Is Quiet the Same as Calm? Four Places in Europe

It suggests that quiet can be a kind of manners, not an empty space.

By Neil Solomon · 2 min read

Picture a couple named Helen and Marcus. They have lived in a large house for thirty years. It has a lawn, a garage and a long list of things to fix. They are tired of the noise of owning it. When they talk about retiring abroad, the word they use most is "peace."

But peace has more than one face. Reading what people say about four places in Europe, I noticed that the same word covers very different days.

Four kinds of quiet

Andorra. One writer describes a calm life, cold winters and Catalan heard everywhere. Another says she worried about boredom and found peace instead. I find those two together useful. A worry about boredom is common, and in her case it went away. The cold and the language are the price of the calm.

Switzerland. One person describes peaceful countryside, but a thin community. I would call that a mixed report, and I think it is honest. The calm was real. The company was harder to find. Quiet and lonely can sit very close together.

Romania. A couple left a big house for peace and quiet in a Romanian city. Their story is one many of us can feel. The big house had become a weight, and the new place gave them room to breathe. I read it as quiet that comes from having less to look after.

Finland. A writer describes silence becoming a form of respect. People do not fill every pause. Space is allowed. I think this is the most interesting of the four. It suggests that quiet can be a kind of manners, not an empty space.

What I make of it

There are at least two quiets. One is the quiet of a place: few cars, few people, soft evenings. The other is the quiet of a culture, where people leave you alone because that is what care looks like.

The first can be calming or lonely, depending on how much company you bring with you. The second can feel cold at first and kind later. I think it helps to know which one you are walking into.

Back to Helen and Marcus. On their second evening in a quiet town, Helen sits on the step.

"It is so still," she says.

"Is that good?" Marcus asks.

"I do not know yet. Ask me in a month."

That seems a sensible answer to me. Stillness is easy to love for a weekend. A month tells you more.