Failed Vibes at Speakers Corner
"There is of course a widespread belief that Speakers' Corner is some kind of "nuthouse", where "cranks" and tourists go. This idea is widespead, particularly amongst those who visit it only once." -- from speakerscorner.net.
Walking through Speakers' Corner at Hyde Park the other day I was told by my companion that there was a hippy who frequently spoke there, and indeed used to sing before the Man turned up with his ugly threats and whipping sticks.
“This guy thinks the world can be saved by green,” he said, as I sipped my coffee.
“Green? Some kind of environmental nut?” I said.
“No...green. Just green.”
“The colour green?” I said.
He nodded grimly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think he would sell us some grass?”
Then the guy appeared through the swarms of people...he was a sad and lonely sight in a world dressed in lacklustre Next gear. A slightly hangdog and whiskery face sat upon a wiry body clothed in true LSD-fried sixties casualty gear, and the whole thing was completed by a pair of – what else? – green trainers. But as he began to preach his message the crowd was growing fat and it was increasingly difficult to make out what he was saying. We left him making peace V-signs and we walked on.
The problem of making himself heard was the case for the other speakers, whose voices interwove into one swirling white noise of indignation. You expect a certain level of extremism here, though; so you do expect some crazed gibberish to rise above the noise and lure you in. But the quality of the bellowing was mixed and it was clear that there were winners and losers here.
In one case the speaker appeared to be no more than a taxi driver up a stepladder. Give a tiresome bore an additional two feet of air and you suddenly have an opinion leader... This was not my idea of hell and brimstone rains of verbal fire...this was the jabbering of a foolish blowhard and we soon strode on. Another speaker was an unassuming Oriental gentleman who, in a weedy voice, was saying something about Jesus being the way. There was a circle of damning emptiness surrounding him and I did not want to get close enough to listen in case he bothered me personally with his useless rhetoric.
The whole place felt heavy with failed religious vibes and we soon grew weary. Speakers Corner has an important heritage and will continue to be important, but there are days when the cranks and tourists jibe rings true. The sense of place that day felt thin, all the more so because we live in a country where we are bombarded with opinion from all directions. We are never sheltered from this constant bombast...so when you see a taxi driver on a stepladder the feeling is not “what on earth does he have to say?” Rather, it is “here we go again”.
But the message, perhaps, is the least important part of the experience. Most of these preachers fall at the first hurdle because they either fail to put on a good show, or if they do manage this they forget to include the audience. When you have a hundred people around you, your message means shit if they are simply staring in bewilderment and giggling amongst themselves at your wacky hairdo. Out of the speakers we saw only the taxi driver was engaging with the crowd. So even though the debate was tedious and hackneyed, the audience were lively and receptive to the slanging matches that frequently caught fire.
Ah, but when the audience is more entertaining than the speaker...then can the speaker claim a victory?
Well...neither of us really cared and we walked off to Oxford Street to find something to eat.
Walking through Speakers' Corner at Hyde Park the other day I was told by my companion that there was a hippy who frequently spoke there, and indeed used to sing before the Man turned up with his ugly threats and whipping sticks.
“This guy thinks the world can be saved by green,” he said, as I sipped my coffee.
“Green? Some kind of environmental nut?” I said.
“No...green. Just green.”
“The colour green?” I said.
He nodded grimly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think he would sell us some grass?”
Then the guy appeared through the swarms of people...he was a sad and lonely sight in a world dressed in lacklustre Next gear. A slightly hangdog and whiskery face sat upon a wiry body clothed in true LSD-fried sixties casualty gear, and the whole thing was completed by a pair of – what else? – green trainers. But as he began to preach his message the crowd was growing fat and it was increasingly difficult to make out what he was saying. We left him making peace V-signs and we walked on.
The problem of making himself heard was the case for the other speakers, whose voices interwove into one swirling white noise of indignation. You expect a certain level of extremism here, though; so you do expect some crazed gibberish to rise above the noise and lure you in. But the quality of the bellowing was mixed and it was clear that there were winners and losers here.
In one case the speaker appeared to be no more than a taxi driver up a stepladder. Give a tiresome bore an additional two feet of air and you suddenly have an opinion leader... This was not my idea of hell and brimstone rains of verbal fire...this was the jabbering of a foolish blowhard and we soon strode on. Another speaker was an unassuming Oriental gentleman who, in a weedy voice, was saying something about Jesus being the way. There was a circle of damning emptiness surrounding him and I did not want to get close enough to listen in case he bothered me personally with his useless rhetoric.
The whole place felt heavy with failed religious vibes and we soon grew weary. Speakers Corner has an important heritage and will continue to be important, but there are days when the cranks and tourists jibe rings true. The sense of place that day felt thin, all the more so because we live in a country where we are bombarded with opinion from all directions. We are never sheltered from this constant bombast...so when you see a taxi driver on a stepladder the feeling is not “what on earth does he have to say?” Rather, it is “here we go again”.
But the message, perhaps, is the least important part of the experience. Most of these preachers fall at the first hurdle because they either fail to put on a good show, or if they do manage this they forget to include the audience. When you have a hundred people around you, your message means shit if they are simply staring in bewilderment and giggling amongst themselves at your wacky hairdo. Out of the speakers we saw only the taxi driver was engaging with the crowd. So even though the debate was tedious and hackneyed, the audience were lively and receptive to the slanging matches that frequently caught fire.
Ah, but when the audience is more entertaining than the speaker...then can the speaker claim a victory?
Well...neither of us really cared and we walked off to Oxford Street to find something to eat.
posted by Jamie at 5:08 PM
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