It was in November of last year that the official broadcasting stations were opened in Britain. In any consideration of what has been achieved there should be borne in mind this fact: that it has been achieved in less than a year. In the first part of that year those who from time to time looked into the progress that was being made frequently found that ╥listening in╙ was a dull occupation and that it was hard to understand the enthusiasm some modern Briton, no less than the old Athenian, is ever seeking some new thing. Indistinct speech, blurring away at times almost to nothingness, gramophone records cast out upon space and recaptured with their already doubtful wings still further clipped ╤ these were some of the reports made, and they were true. But one had to bear in mind the youthfulness of this new candidate for the amusement and service of the public.
Within the last month some important speeches have been broadcasted: there was the presidential address to the British Association, and there was General Smuts╒s speech about foreign policy. The success with which these two speeches were sent to thousands of hearers, sitting in remote back parlours, has stimulated interest in ╥listening in.╙ By their recent efforts the experts have put themselves in a position to claim that, within a year of beginning their work, they have justified themselves on results. These two speeches, of course, are not all that has been done; but they happen to have been important enough to attract attention. The effect was helped by a certain dramatic element in the case of the Smuts speech, because there the broadcasting station may be regarded as assisting to frustrate what was virtually an attempt at suppression.
Seeking, because of these things, to know exactly what the ╥listener-in╙ is getting nowadays for his money, a representative of the ╥Manchester Guardian╙ went during the week-end to a house with a receiving set. There must still (he writes) be millions of people who have never had experience of picking up news out of vacancy, so I will tell exactly what happened. We were sitting in a quiet suburban drawing-room, just one of those ordinary and undisturbed interiors that Mr. Wells used to describe before invading them with the incredible in his earlier romances. The fire was twinkling, and our pipes were going, and the wind was stirring the trees in the garden. In a corner of the room you must imagine a box arrangement.
There are little black indicators on the flat top of it, and in two tall electric bulbs set in it points of light burn. Wires run from it, connected up with telephone receivers that fit over the head, and another wire passes through the window. I put on the head-piece, sat in an easy chair by the fire, and waited. The man sitting front of the little box told me that by moving the levers this way or that one might ╥pick up╙ London or Cardiff, Birmingham, Newcastle or Aberdeen, or Glasgow.
He began to play with the levers. Suddenly there was a violent whooping whistle, sharply repeated several times. It passed, and very distinctly then a voice said; ╥London Metal Exchange: values were maintained by a revival in forward buying╙ We were listening with the greatest clearness and comfort to someone talking in London, unconnected with us by so much as a telephone wire. Wandering about somewhere in the ether under the stars was this prosaic information about the London metal market, and we were gathering it in. And then it was not metal; we went on to vegetables. ╥Bags of Hungarian onions,╙ the wandering voice under the stars was saying; and a little later, ╥English mutton 8s.╙ It was fascinating; and one soon gathered that this huckster of cold commercial pudding was not having it all his own way. Like the traditional ghosts that wander in space, seeking to find a way within human cognisance, the ether was chock-full of voices striving to gain one╒s ear. If it goes on, some angel will have to read the Riot Act. Normally, of course, you pick up what you want and hear it through; but we were just experimenting, and the man at the levers switched us all over the kingdom. ôThe lemur and the baby orang outang,ö some distant lecturer was saying; but we shut him off and picked up: ╥Of course, the Breton peasant╙ And then we were listening to glee singers in Cardiff, who were interrupted by a dogmatic voice, conjured up by a touch of the levers, saying: ╥On the other hand, the anti-cyclone╙ ╤Fairy tales now! ╥And so the Princess╙ The Encyclopaedia Britannica, the works of Hans Andersen, the compositions of Beethoven and Mozart seemed all to have been torn to little unedifying fragments and blown up into the sky, where they were engaged in an unseemly wrestle to gain our ears!
A Familiar Voice.
╥The popularity of ╘The Magic Flute╒╙ This was too much! I took off the headpiece and exclaimed, ╥Why, that╒s Moses Baritz!╙ And so it was. He was talking in Birmingham, and his unforgettable harsh voice, which had addressed me personally the day before, seemed to be coming from a yard away. This was final conviction ╤ to recognise a voice; and for that rest of the evening, weaving in and out of Scotch jokes from Aberdeen and music from Cardiff and a lecture from Newcastle, and this, that, and the other, came disconnected fragments of Mr. Baritz expounding the intention of Mozart. My last impression of the night was of his voice exclaiming out of heaven, tired, raucous, but triumphant, ╥The lovers are now united╙.
Out of a medley of impressions this at least was clear, that ╥listening in╙ is no longer a chance game. Everything is not equally good; I thought speech got through much better than music, and some voices, of course, much better than others. Music picked up from Manchester was good enough to be thoroughly enjoyable; from Cardiff it was rather annoying. But one should remember the best rather than the worst; and if the broadcasting experts can bring their indifferent achievements up to the standard of their best ones they will have done something very remarkable indeed. And in view of their achievements in less than a year, who can doubt that they will?
