(Illustration and snippet, Babacan, 6 September 1928, no. 16, page 4.)
Türkçe:
Mahalle arasındaki gramofonlardan yaka silkmeyen yok
— Hey komşu, sabah demez akşam demez, gece demez bu zırıltıyı öttürür durursun. Gece uykusuz kaldığıma mı bakayım, sabah işe geç kalıp ziyan ettiğime mi? Ya sesi kesersin, yahud bir gramofon da ben alacağım, sen dinlenmeye çekildiğin zaman koyuverip sana rahat yüzü vermeyeceğim. İşte bu.
English:
Everybody is fed up with (all) the gramophones in the neighborhoods
—Hey neighbor, you keep blasting this noise morning, night, and evening alike. Should I be concerned about my sleepless nights or the fact that I am wasting away, becoming late for work in the morning? Either you cut the racket or I’m going to get myself a gramophone and when you withdraw for rest I will turn mine on and not let you relax. That’s it.
Comments
Long before the age of personalized music consumption, headphones, ipods/iphones, mp3 players, the walkman and discman, audio entertainment was enjoyed with phonographs (more popularly known as “gramophones”). While the phonograph brought pre-recorded music into the home, making this form of recreational activity available in the absence of skilled musicians, it also made the same music “available” to an otherwise captive audience—in this case, neighbors.
Unlike sight or even smell, sound is a difficult sense to effectively obstruct without inconveniencing oneself. Frustrations rising from this new gadget are such that they have made it to the pages of popular magazines. In fact, just like real life, upon surveying Turkey’s selection of publications from the 1920s we are faced with an entire spread of different news and attitudes regarding this new, somewhat alien device. Today in 1920s Turkey has covered several examples of phonograph-related materials including an advertisement for His Master’s Voice Gramophones and a news snippet about the arrival of gramophones in Turkey’s villages. These two examples, along with the present one collectively provide the impression that phonographs were ubiquitous at this time: being advertised for, sold, purchased, and certainly “played” to their fullest… and not only in big cities like Istanbul, but nationwide, although, probably to a lesser degree. (Incidentally, the second impression these examples provide is the rather obvious fact that Turks love themselves some music…)
But technology comes at a cost beyond the price tag and journalists are quick to point out the negative side-effect in their publications. Often such complaints appear to be the result of an editor, writer, or cartoonist reacting to their own direct or indirect relationship to said technology. For instance, so intense and realistic is the language of the above “rant” one can’t help but imagine that the person who articulated those words truly felt that way about his neighbor’s music obsession. What could start as a single neighbor’s misfortune (i.e. being kept up all night with second-hand music) can double as an impromptu public service announcement. In the case of the phonograph, one man’s right to listen to music (or party, as the Beastie Boys may argue) may infringe upon another man’s right to peace and quiet.
Modern transportation vehicles such as automobiles and trolleys also proved to bear “hidden costs” such as frequent, violent traffic fatalities. An example of a more formal announcement advising pedestrians to use the sidewalks to avoid getting hit by fast-moving traffic can be viewed here. Whether it's automobiles or gramophones, new technologies have the potential to disrupt life in unexpected and sometimes unfortunate ways. Blurbs such as these serve to raise public awareness of the new and changing boundaries involved in peacefully coexisting with others in a modern society.