Why does the sound of an almost out of tune bell conjure up feelings of devotion?

Question

You have probably heard at least recordings of the Temple bells of many Eastern Religions as well as those Medieval sounding Church bells. They are never quite on key. But they seem to conjure up a devoted mood. Why is that? Is it because of what we associate that sound with? Or is there something more to it?

Good point Will!

But I think there is something to that dissonance.

Answer 1

What a wonderful question! And it has gifted me with the memory of something I have not thought about for years. In my teens, I went through a rebellious phase, as do many young people, and I decided that I didn't want to attend church services with my family anymore. My mother gave up arguing with me and let me go my way.

One winter morning I woke to a glorious sound with the odd jangle to it, here and there. I rushed to my window and opened it for better hearing. It was winter, still very dark, but a small slice of moon in the sky gave a wonderful luminescence to a few fine snowflakes just beginning to drift down. The sound was coming from the bell tower of a little church down the street. The bell ringer was not in sync with the rhythm, every so often a little late or a little fast at pulling on the ropes, but the discord didn't lessen the effect. The snow, the moonlight, and the joyful ringing of the bells, produced in me an indescribable feeling of exultation. Suddenly for the first time in months, I wanted to attend church. My family was surprised to find me at the breakfast table, but not a word was said. Later in church, the solemnity of the service, the small, jingling hand bells, used throughout as reminders for worshippers, and the words of the sermon, all blended together to produce for me a feeling that I can only call "Oneness" with something much bigger than I, or indeed the whole human race. For the first time in my life I truly understood the words, "spiritually uplifted."

But it was the bells that drew me first. Without their cheerful cacaphony, I would have slept peacefully through the early morning. Oh! What I would have missed!

Answer 2

My goodness, you DO ask great questions. (And since I complimented you, you should NOT give me any points - principles and all that.)

I've always thought of it as the power of gentle dissonance, and it shows up in other interactions, but to the point.

First let's agree that the proper realm of music is human emotions - they are evoked by music and music plays, moves them. One of the great devices used by composers to create "tension" in the listener is a small "off-ness," which we are then forced to "consider" or "resolve." And we resolve it feelingly.

But only dissonance of a certain easy size can enter into the domain of our emotions - and it is rarely voluntary. Once there, however, we cannot prevent its effects. In this sense it's a stealthy break-in into our heart. And there it finds and awakens our own, but larger dissonance, feelings of loss, of possibilities not achieved, of a better self unknown and unobserved. Once this tugging starts, it can rapidly transcends your petty sense of individuality, taking you to a place the bells' communality implies - a place of many, and all somehow so alike.

At this point I am crying over a Beethoven "Cavatina," which is quite unbecoming for an old man, so I bid you a good day.

Answer 3

Could be a past life memory of your life being around a church that had bells and were very devoted to God.

Answer 4

Were they out of tune when first cast, or did the bells get whacked out of tune after a few thousand ringings?

Answer 5

the bells they of course give us a devoted mood just something like the pavlof's law.

Answer 6

How can a single bell be out of tune?

Answer 7

I don't know, but I absolutely love the sound! Perhaps it is association.

Answer 8

Maybe some sort of Pavlovian response.