do with that. She makes me hear what I mumble to myself in my endless interior monologues.
My right ear is mysterious. Distant. Vague. Self-involved. She doesnât really like it when I clean inside her. She shies away. She gives the impression that she would like to close upon herself. Like a clam. To invaginate herself, if I may borrow a word from Derrida. One of his better inventions: Lâinvagination du texte . She resists when I penetrate her with my Q-tip. So usually I donât stay in very long.
My left ear, on the contrary, loves when I clean her inside. She gives herself completely to my Q-tip. She abandons herself to it. And so my Q-tip rubs her inside gently, caresses her in slow circular motions, but being very careful not to go too deep and burst the tympan.
Some people have commented that my ears were well placed on my head. Symmetrically placed. Squarely in line with my eyes.
One person, a musician, even compared the placement of my ears on each side of my face with the perfect placement of speakers in a living room in order to obtain the best sound from the pick-up.
Others have noted that I have nice ears because the lobes are not too big and not overly twisted, and do not stick out too much on either side of my head.
And itâs true that my ears do not extend beyond a reasonable distance from my face, and as such make my face more harmonious than it really is.
My ears bring a certain balance to the incongruous other parts that make up my face, whose story I have already told.
Though lately, with age, and the efforts one makes to hear more clearly, it seems that my ears have gotten bigger. Almost as large as my nose, and thatâs saying a lot.
Yet, a few people even told me that I had sexy ears. Well, mostly women told me that when the envy takes them to kiss one of my ears, and even lick it. Which I sort of like, but not when the tongue of the one who is kissing my ear makes it all wet. My ears donât like to be wet inside. Especially the right ear. The insensitive one.
The other thing I also noticed about my ears, besides their difference of character, is that my left ear is much more sensitive to music than the right one. Much more responsive too.
I didnât notice this the same day I noticed how different my ears were one from the other. I discovered that sensitivity to music after I became conscious of their different personalities.
Erica and I had gone to our first concert together. So that goes way back. Just before we were married. It was a Mahler concert. The Fifth Symphony. That day, during the concert, I noticed that I heard music better, more distinctly, more clearly from my left side.
From my right side the music sounded more distant, more faint, indistinct, even when the percussion blasted.
This is how I found out. At one point during the concert, in the middle of the second movement, when the music reaches a sublime moment that crescendos to a bombastic percussion roll, I turned my head toward Erica who was sitting on my right, in very good seats by the way, ninth row center, a great view of Boulez conducting, I turned my head towards Erica to see if she too was enjoying that musical moment as much as I was, and thatâs when I noticed that I was hearing the music better with my left ear facing the orchestra, than when listening facing the orchestra. This was confirmed when I turned my head all the way to the other side to listen to the music with my right ear. From that side, the music was not as clear, the notes not as precise. The sound was fuzzy.
Now, you are going to tell me that perhaps I was going deaf in one ear and thatâs the reason why I heard the music better with the other ear which was still normal. To this I will answer, that the day I heard Mahlerâs Fifth more clearly with my left ear than with my right, I was still too young to be losing my sense of hearing, and besides, I had just had my ears checked a couple of days before the
Sloan Wilson
Mia Caldwell
Norman Rush
Isabel Morin
Sherwood Smith
Riley Adams
Barbara J. Hancock
Jack J. Lee
Ishmael Reed
Jayne Ann Krentz