“Where there’s music there is”...: Manipulating Sonic Expectations in Don Quijote

Abstract

THE refrain, Where there's music, there can be no evil, has become so engrained in contemporary society that it is used as a mantra for music festivals, has several conversation threads on twitter and is referenced in countless novels and books. However, for the character that spoke these memorable words, it would seem that the opposite is true. During their stay as guests of the Duke and Duchess, Sancho Panza and Don Quijote have quite the adventure one evening in the forest that lies just outside the palace. First, the pair is terror-stricken and immobilized by the overwhelming sounds of battle cries, metal clashing and war instruments. When those awful noises finally end, Sancho rejoices at the sound of music, proclaiming that it can only mean something good awaits them. And yet, what follows is the apparition of fantastical, though ugly, figures followed by a sentence of voluntary lashings for the faithful escudero. This example is just one of the many instances in the novel, Don Quijote, (1) in which the pair is accompanied and directed by auditory experiences. Throughout their travels, sonic stimuli (encompassing noise, sound and music) is an important factor in orienting the duo within their geographical surroundings, establishing social relationships and eliciting emotional responses. What makes this particular adventure notable is precisely the separation between the protagonists' beliefs about what sounds should mean and what actually happens to them. This has direct implications for appreciating aural expressions as sites of meaning and knowledge that extend beyond the written word. Hence, the detailed accounts of sounds and their use in manipulating expectations point to how Miguel de Cervantes uses his writing to become the purposeful creator of aural environments, and as such, is not just an author, but also a sound designer. CERVANTES: FROM EARWITNESS TO SOUND DESIGNER The scholarship on the topic of sonic references in Cervantes's writing is not only a fairly recent phenomenon of the twentieth century, but also struggles with the lack of historical evidence to substantiate claims regarding the novelist's past. While some historians believe that during his military service, Cervantes became acquainted with a variety of music and instruments as well as met some of the most esteemed musicians and composers of his time, there is no concrete evidence to support these claims. Hence, the specific case of Cervantes poses difficulties in ascertaining the author's experience and knowledge of music. According to Chad Gasta, if the author acquired training, there is no way to know how advanced it was. In short, nothing in the biographical record sheds light on Cervantes's attraction to particular forms; nor do these sources explain his insightful and vast knowledge of music as evidence in the novel (Senora 357). Yet, many scholars suggest that, in spite of non-existent records, the author possessed remarkable insight (Haywood 2) or even that he had ideas claras de lo que hoy dia llamamos principios generales de teoria musical (Querol Galvada 37). It is not my intention to enter into the conversation about the extent of Cervantes's training and knowledge, but rather, to suggest that the way he weaves sounds into his writing may be more broadly reflective of his personal listening practices. In his exhaustive study of the author's references, Juan Jose Pastor states that the author possessed an oido excepcional para las manifestaciones musicales de su tiempo and that the attention Cervantes gives to describing the sound of characters' voices, the music used for dance numbers and naming instruments suggests that the author absorbed the aural world around him (Por asperos caminos 8). Hence, I propose that more than just having a good ear, the novelist experienced his surroundings by becoming what environmental music scholar R. Murray schafer calls an earwitness. …