I don't mean to say that we all have to talk, all of the time, or that speech is pure. We can lie. We can say dreadful, wounding things to each other. Sometimes, silence is a place where we can find peace. But I think it's often hard to find true peace in silence with someone else unless there's been a lot of talking, first. The Dixie Chicks, as with many things, say it wisely: "In the easy silence you create for me / It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me / And the peaceful quiet you create for me / And the way you keep the world at bay." Silence heals us only when it functions as a refuge from talk and from sound. Forced silence can be a terrible wound, one that is difficult for us to contemplate, which I think is why it shows up as a characteristic of sci-fi killers so often. It's inherently frightening.
This Is Not Your Easy Silence
I always have fun with io9's lists, particularly this one on silent and deadly characters. But I wish they'd gone into what makes silence so unsettling. I think it's mostly that silence, particularly permanent silence, is terribly isolating. Of course, voluntary silence can be part of a spiritual discipline, and I think I understand that, even if it's something that's impossible for me to empathize with (my family is, um, chatty.). But choosing not to speak (Duma in Sandman), or removing your own physical reality to speak (Kroenen in Hellboy) is, in certain ways, a deliberate rejection not just of communication, but of trust. How can you be sure of someone who refuses, or is unable to respond to you? How can you trust someone who gives you no verbal clues, ever? It seems like an unfathomable form of cruelty to take the ability to speak and communicate with someone: you deny them the ability to connect, to express love, to reassure, to assert opinions, objections, feelings, basic observations?