What is the sound of crisis? Is it a human voice made inhuman? A whisper, a cry, a moan, a scream? Is it a staggering cacophony or a stunned silence, a static shock or a stutter? And what is its relationship to the listening ear, the trapped ear, the ear whose hearing falters? From Dante's depictions of Maleboge, the grotesque sounds of which defy description, to Adorno's post-Holocaust call for a music that takes on the "odium of dehumanization," seeming failures of audition and vocalization have figured not only as indicators of moments and spaces of catastrophe, but also as means by which "unspeakable" events are instigated, carried forward, embodied in aftermath.