The art of being bored in Notes from a Small Island, by Bill Bryson
Two weeks ago, Quebec was without electricity for days. There were some lucky ones who didn't see anything of course, but I was worse; I was in the dark for three days. (Note the good pun.) I couldn't charge my phone, watch TV, cool my food, heat my food, or even make myself a coffee. After the first exciting day where I felt a bit like I was camping, I became fed up. I was cold, I wanted artificial light. And most of all, I was bored.
I was bored, because all my entertainment had been cut off, except reading. And you know I love to read, but after a few hours, one still wants to do something else. But there was nothing else to do. So I would get under the blanket on the sofa, and stare into space. I would take long walks with nothing plugged in my ears. I'd go to bed early and get up early.
Meditating in the ice rain
And I think I could hardly have chosen a better time to read Notes from a Small Island, the story of an American (the author, Bill Bryson) who travels across England. It was published in 1995, and we sometimes forget it, but cell phones didn't really exist in those days. There is a scene where the narrator makes fun of a tiresome man on the train who, proud of his cell phone that he carries everywhere with him in his briefcase, calls everyone just because he can. "Hi honey, just to let you know I'm going to be two minutes late." And that little fact shows up throughout the book:
- To find out how to get to a certain city, he must consult the brochure with the bus schedules.
- To choose a hotel, he walks down the street, picks one that looks adequate and asks the front desk how much a room costs.
- To choose his next destination, he consults an old book that sometimes talks about attractions that no longer exist.
- On the train, he looks out the window, sleeps or talks to his neighbors.
- When he arrives in a city that is further away and more boring than he expected, he sits and stares at the sea for hours while waiting for the next transport.
- In bars, he reads his book.
- To pass the time, he visits museums.
- Sometimes he shows up at a museum or some other attraction only to find that it is closed for the day.
- He goes out to explore even if it's raining and cold, because there's literally nothing to do in his hotel room.
- It's a good thing he travels to England, because if people didn't speak English he would be pretty screwed.
Et moi qui lisais ce livre à la chandelle, qui sortais parler aux employés d’Hydro-Québec pour savoir ce qui se passait, qui commentais sur les gens qui passaient devant ma fenêtre et qui parlais de la météo à mon chum tout aussi désoeuvré que moi, je me sentais une étrange familiarité avec ce vieil homme au sens de l’humour extraordinaire qui devait travailler pas mal plus fort que moi pour se distraire, et qui avait pas mal plus de temps que moi pour penser, tout simplement.
See also:
We’re Already in the Metaverse, a particularly well written article by The Atlantic which talks about the fact that nobody is never bored anymore.
In English only :
