White Noise by Don DeLillo is a Great American Novel in my opinion. Even though it was released in the 1980’s, it is still quite relevant to our post-postmodern world. The novel has three distinct parts, and is almost symmetrically laid out, with the middle part being just one long chapter titled The Airborne Toxic Event, and the first and third parts consisting of about 20 chapters each. Theme wise, White Noise is about the fear of death. The fear of death is natural in all humans, so while it isn’t a specifically American thing, the steps the characters take to cope and distract themselves from it are American.
The main character and narrator, Jack Gladney, teaches Hitler Studies at a generic college in a generic Midwestern town. He, and his 5th wife Babette, have crippling fears of death, and talk about it quite a lot. The first part, while not moving the plot that much, is a satirical take on academia. The white noise that the novel talks about is a little hum in the background, always there, but not screaming at you. Only one passage talks explicitly of the white noise, a conversation between Jack and Babette:
“What if death is nothing but sound?”
“Electrical noise.”
“You hear it forever. Sound all around. How awful.”
“Uniform, white.”
Jack constantly notes the eclectic symphony of sounds around him like highway traffic, coffee makers, and the TV. This racket is what makes up his life; it is the white noise. Jack is so immobilized by the fear of death that he is practically already dead and surrounded by nothing but the white noise. This is what really confused me along with the fact that I think it would be impossible for someone to read this book and not lose their spot because they zoned out attempting to understand how people go about their days not succumbing to depressing thoughts of death. But in reality, America goes about unfazed, or at least that’s how it’s presented.
What is life if not just big lead up to death. It’s almost funny to talk
about our lives being a cruel joke. No real point. No end goals other than to die. Don DeLillo uses humor like how a lot of America uses humor, to cover-up the depressing truth underneath. Hitler studies, wheat germ, and trying to find too much meaning in the supermarket are just blankets we put over our heads, because maybe if we can’t see the grim reaper approaching, he won’t come and peel back the ineffective covers supposed to shield and protect our fragile lives.
As someone with tinnitus, I really like the idea of death/the fear of death as white noise. The ringing is usually nonexistent during the day, but at night I feel like I’m about to go crazy and have to turn on a fan. The fan helps but tinnitus doesn’t have a cure and I know that next time it gets quiet and I’m alone with my thoughts, the white noise will creep back in, starting as a soft buzz that eventually grows into a deafening screech, like it’s preparing for a crescendo that has yet to come.
Great American Novels 