"Make an effort to exhaust the subject, even if that seems grotesque, or pointless, or stupid. You still haven’t looked at anything, you’ve merely picked out what you’ve long ago picked out." Georges Perec, Species of Spaces, 1974
The psychologist and philosopher William James noted that what we pay attention to shapes our minds and experiences. George Perec’s words challenge me to break from well-worn grooves of habitual listening and noticing, to pay attention to what I might have overlooked, undermining my lazy presumptions about the world and enabling me to experience life more fully. In the introduction to Perec's 'An attempt at exhausting a place in Paris,' he writes...
"There are many things in place Saint-Sulpice; for instance: a district council building, a financial building a police station, three cafés, one of which sells tobacco and stamps, a movie theatre, a church on which Le Vau, Gittard, Oppenord, Servandoni, and Chalgrin have all worked, and which is dedicated to a chaplain of Clotair II, who was Bishop from 624 to 644 and whom we celebrate on 17 January, a publisher, a funeral parlor, a travel agency, a bus stop, a tailor, a hotel, a fountain decorated with statues of four great Christian orators (Bossuet, Fénelon, Fléchier, and Massilon), a newsstand, a seller of pious objects, a parking lot, a beauty parlor, and many other things as well.
A great number, if not the majority, of these things have been described, inventoried, photographed, talked about, or registered. My intention in the pages that follow was to describe the rest instead: that which is generally not taken note of, that which is not noticed, that which has no importance: what happens when nothing happens other than the weather, people, cars, and clouds." Georges Perec, Tentative d'épuisement d'un lieu parisien (An attempt at exhausting a place in Paris), 1974
Finding myself in Paris exactly 50 years after Perec wrote this piece, it felt timely to follow in his footsteps. So, like Perec, I made myself comfortable at a café in the corner of Place Saint-Sulpice, ordered a coffee and set about noticing "...what happens when nothing happens."
A man wandering past selling Le Monde newspapers.
The constant cascade of water from the fountain in the middle of the square.
Bistro chairs, battered and weather-beaten, with a small makers plaque on the back:
Maison Gatti
Fabricant depuis 1920
Tel: 01.64.29.11.84 - Fax : 01.64.29.75.59
Pigeons, scattered by cyclists and mopeds.
Bus number 96 to Gare Montparnasse.
A lady confused by the ticket system on bus 63 to Pte de La Muette, It disappears down Rue Du Vieux Colombier.
Another electric bus 96.
An elderly lady with red trousers and matching walking stick, looks both determined and lost.
The gentle babble of two gentlemen talking on an adjacent table.
The tram-like ‘dong dong’ of the 86 bus, it’s diesel engine idling for 30 secs before disappearing.
A man speaking into the end of his phone like he is about to eat it.
A lady finding it difficult to mount the pavement from the road, ear buds in, nearly dropping her Carrefour tote bag.
The slow turning of an advertising board: Luis de Matos Impossible, Au Boulot film
Cars: Toyota, Toyota, Honda, Volkswagen, Hyundai, Toyota, Citroen, Renault, Renault, Land Rover, Mercedes, Peugeot, Tesla.
A woman taking a smartphone image of her book open in front of her, accompanied by glass of rosé with the church of Saint Sulpice as a backdrop.
A lady in a long, beige trench coat, hobbling past on crutches.
French rap music blaring from a barely-marked white van, waiting at the traffic lights.
A waft of cigarette smoke from one of the two gentleman sitting next to me.
A young lady on a hire bike, bright pink hair trailing in the breeze.
The gently flashing green ‘24 / 24’ sign beneath the Indigo parking board.
Children running up to the fountain in the square excited by the sight and sound of the water.
Visitor after visitor taking selfies with the fountain as a backdrop.
Patches of grass growing through the cobbles outside of L’eglise Saint Sulpice, strips well worn mark popular pedestrian routes.
A dapper looking gentleman at the back of a bus, flicking through his phone, ear buds in, lost intently in his screen.
A traditionally dressed waiter, key fob dangling from his apron.
Another Véhicule 100% Électrique number 86 bus, silently sidles up in front of the café, doors squeaking, pneumatic bursts making its presence known.
Bird-netting above the entrance to the church.
A modern rickshaw, with two Tricolore flags flying from its handlebars.
‘Lime’ hire bicycles passing every minute or more.
Taking time out of a romantic weekend in Paris to notice how few cars were French or how Parisian bistro chairs have one of only three maker’s marks, takes a special kind of love! Engaging in George Perec’s practice of ‘noticing that which goes unnoticed’ was satisfying and stilling, anchoring my attention while the city buzzed about me. The result may not be a poetic masterpiece, but the immediacy of the practice allowed me to bypass decision-making, mind-wandering and the kind of self-conscious reflection involved in writing poetry, prose or in other creative endeavours. The practice quickly and easily got my attention ‘out-there,’ exploring the mundane and underappreciated. Particularly after spending a lot of the short break reading and translating artwork labels on gallery walls, I found the practice simple, engaging and grounding.
Getting out of thinking-mode and in to sensing-mode reminded me of a book I read recently by neuroscientist Norman Farb and clinical psychologist Zindel Segal titled ‘Better in Every Sense.’
“We all know intuitively that a blast of sensation can lift our mood. Stepping away from thinking and striving, stepping into our body’s ability to sense the world - watching waves crashing on a beach at sunset, smelling lilacs-can momentarily ease stress and clear the mind.
What we don't appreciate is how this natural, restorative response has in each of us been suppressed by a lifetime of counter-programming. We are told as children to “stop dawdling and focus”; as teenagers to “take responsibility and focus on your schoolwork”; as adults to “put in your time and grind until you are successful.” Even if each of these admonishments is well-intentioned, together they carry the consistent message: sensation is a waste of time unless it helps you do something useful. When we're growing up, nobody tells us that sensation is a capacity that withers in the face of stress. If that capacity is left neglected, we may be putting our mental health at risk. And after a lifetime of such neglect, it is far less likely that we will avail ourselves of the benefits of sensory awareness, especially when we need them most.” pp. 22 Farb, N. and Segal, Z., Better in Every Sense: How the new science of sensation can help you reclaim your life, Hodder and Stoughton Ltd., 2024
A little ironically, the book sells the benefits of ‘sense foraging’ (as Farb and Segal package it) for its own sake, while justifying the practice in terms of doing something useful for our mental health and wellbeing. We could bemoan the fact that noticing “…what happens when nothing happens” should have to be justified as a constructive use of time which supports our wellbeing. However, in fairness, people not used to playing or art-making for its own sake, often find it easier to use ‘wellbeing’ and its associated body of research as justification for doing something that might otherwise seem pointless or useless (acknowledging that the reference point for ‘usefulness’ is often set by societal norms such as our contribution to the wealth, health and security of the family and society). There is certainly a growing pool of evidence underpinning the claim that 'sense foraging' has personal and pro-social benefits.
More anecdotally, in exploring Perec’s work and influence, I stumbled across the work of Sheffield-based poet and postman Kevin Boniface and found a lovely BBC radio programme ‘Between the Ears: Species of Spaces’ that explores his practice and the influence of Perec. In it, Boniface noted the way listening and documenting his experience helped him through a difficult period in his life:
“After finishing art school, funnily enough I didn't become a huge star of the international art scene, I just found myself back at the Royal Mail where I actually began life after leaving school. My financial situation wasn't great at the time, I had a young family to support as well, and I think it all got a bit on top of me. I did think I was starting to lose it. Documenting as much about my experience of the spaces and places I was visiting in the course of my work, I think it just helped me to make sense of things. It's a way of really looking at the world and when you really look at the world it's endlessly fascinating.” BBC Radio 4 programme ‘Between the Ears: Species of Spaces’
Perhaps in other cultures, at other points in history the pressure to be constantly productive and useful was less ingrained. But we are where we are and rediscovering Perec’s practice of noticing "what happens when nothing happens" is a creatively safe and accessible first step for anyone wishing to connect with their senses and challenge the patterning that divorces us from a richer experience of life.
Take good care,
Richard.
Whatever brought you here, you are very welcome.
Thank you for listening and do consider sharing your experiences, reflections and wisdom in the comments below
or by emailing me at: richard@anoisysilence.com
Resources
Georges Perec, Species of Spaces and Other Pieces, Penguin Classics, 1997
Georges Perec, Tentative d'épuisement d'un lieu parisien (An attempt at exhausting a place in Paris), 1974
Hazel Smith, Did You Know? The History of Paris’ Bistro Chairs (https://francetoday.com/culture/did-you-know-the-history-of-paris-bistro-chairs/), 2024
Kevin Boniface, Between the Ears: Species of Spaces (www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m000x04n)
Norman Farb and Zindel Segal, Better in Every Sense, Yellow Kite Books, 2024
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