Last month—to little fanfare beyond the scientific community—a study appeared in the journal Science. It detailed the 1999 discovery of an ancient slab of green stone inscribed by the Olmecs and its subsequent analysis by, among others, anthropologists Stephen Houston and William Saturno. The stone was originally found by villagers in the Mexican state of Veracruz.
What is so remarkable about it is that it has been tentatively dated to around 900 B.C., and it therefore contains the earliest known writing, so far, in the entire Western hemisphere. The text is currently indecipherable and perhaps likely to remain so.
Probably, its contents were a mystery even to the majority of the Olmecs, too, since in millennia past, it was not uncommon for the general populace of most cultures to be unable to read and write. Literacy, if it existed at all, was reserved for a select few, and those not numbered among them relied on oral communication to preserve the past and for information and entertainment. People gathered around campfires and in great halls to hear bards tell epic stories of adventure, danger, heroism, and romance.
Eventually, however, with the spread of literacy, these tales based on oral tradition began to be written down, giving birth to works like the Epic of Gilgamesh, The Illiad and The Odyssey, Beowulf, and the Scandinavian eddas and sagas. In the twelfth century, a Welsh nobleman, Geoffrey of Monmouth, wrote a wild “history” of the kings of Britain (Historia Regum Britanniae), a portion of which captured the public’s imagination and spawned an entire field of literature devoted to King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table; and with his own Arthurian romances, Chrétien de Troyes introduced us to Sir Lancelot and popularized the notion of courtly love.
At some point, the modern novel was born. Just exactly when that happened is open to debate. But most scholars do agree that one of the earliest known novels is The Tale of Genji, a romantic story penned by a Japanese noblewoman, Murasaki Shikibu, in the eleventh century. With the advent of the modern novel, writers were no longer simply recording oral tradition (however they embellished or redacted it). Instead, they were creating fiction for an increasingly literate society to read and enjoy. No longer needed, bards were largely relegated to centuries gone by.
But all things do indeed come full circle, and in today’s hectic society, despite the fact that literacy is no longer the province of scribes and that bards are principally associated with the past, we are once again relying more and more on oral communication for both information and entertainment.
Audiobooks are a growing segment of that process, and an array of burgeoning technology allows us to hear their stories anytime, anywhere.
Last month, PWDaily reported that:
“Total spending on spokenword audio rose 4.7% in 2005, to an estimated $871 million. As expected, sales of downloadable audio are showing steady gains. Downloads represented 9% of total audio sales last year, up from 6% in 2004.”
This month’s RWR reports that:
“The portability, flexibility, and high storage capacity of iPods and other digital media devices, combined with the convenience of on-line delivery, has made listening to audiobooks easier than ever. Digital technology is driving new listeners to audiobooks—many of whom had never considered ‘listening’ to a book before….With more than 58 million iPods sold to date (and a growing array of competing devices also racking up sales), it’s easy to see why digital is the fastest-growing segment of not only the audio industry, but the entire publishing industry.”
But although the technology is new, the concept is ancient. Far older than books and their writers, stories and their storytellers have existed since time’s beginning, and today’s audiobooks are merely a modern twist on the bards of millennia past. For those who can read, audiobooks serve to make long commutes or exercise routines interesting and entertaining. For those who can’t read, they open doors to worlds that would otherwise remain unknown and unexplored.
Our ancestors wrote to preserve oral tradition. Nowadays, audiobooks are not only following in the footsteps of yesteryear’s bards, but also blazing new ground in the process by preserving the written word. Ultimately, storytelling, literacy, and technology have combined to offer us the best of all worlds. Wouldn’t it be fascinating if we could not only read the ancient Olmecs’ stone slab, but also hear one of the Olmecs themselves reading it aloud?
That’s not possible for us, of course. But someday, historians will be able not only to read the literature of the twenty-first century, but also to hear it. What else do you suppose the future might hold in store? Holographic books? Programmable books? Do you think that perhaps one day, you will be able to open a book and have a 3-D projection of your favorite author sit down beside you and tell you a story, just like the bards of old?































Great post! What I find interesting how by gaining something in technology, we’re losing some our physical skills. For instance, now that we all have computers, most people are losing the art of writing with a pen and paper, that ability our kindergarten teachers fought so hard to teach us. Then there’s the audiobooks. If this keeps growing, then there will be no need to learn how to write. All you have to do is pop the book in a listening device and hear it. Why do I find that scary? Another interesting part is that writing and reading develops certain parts of the brain that eventually we won’t use anymore.
by Tempest Knight October 5th, 2006 at 9:38 amOh, Rebecca, I can’t tell you how much I love being read to at night. Since my DH won’t do it, I put an audiobook on as I fall asleep. I love it! I don’t get much “reading” done, though. I’m not good at comprehending things with my ears; I’m a visual learner.
Interesting, Tempest. I bet you’re right, but for the next generation or so, I think we’re safe. The majority of humans are still visual learners, thanks to the tv!
by spyscribbler October 5th, 2006 at 10:50 pmI truly love audiobooks — it’s about the only way I can “read” these days — what with a daughter, a dayjob and now a fledglingly writing career. It took me some getting used to, making that shift from the printed word to the audio, and a bad reader will jerk me out of the story every time.
But I find that I interact with the story in a completely different way when it’s audio as opposed to print — for me, it’s not an either/or. I like both. Print will never be replaced by audio. It’s the sometimes-I-like-vanilla-sometimes-I-like-coffee -icecream phenomenon.
And some books are just made to be listened to — take for instance GODS IN ALABAMA. If you are wavering about reading this book (now a year or so old, but a great read), listen to the audio version — it’s great! I checked it out of the library and liked it so much that I had to have my own copy, so I went and bought the TPO.
by Cynthia Reese October 5th, 2006 at 10:59 pmTempest…you’re right about the fact that things that aren’t consistently taught and practiced soon become lost arts. Literacy has waxed and waned over the centuries, and I suspect it will continue to do so.
Spyscribbler…I used to enjoy being read to, as well, but nowadays, it mostly puts me to sleep! *g*
Cynthia…I think you’re right and that audiobooks won’t replace bound books, but, rather, will become one of many choices for readers when it comes to method of delivery.
by Rebecca Brandewyne October 6th, 2006 at 10:27 am