loud in a populous, compact neighborhood, their parents never intervened, doubtless delighted to let this energy be burned up on the street rather than in their close-quartered apartments. The “control” also seemed on thin ice when intoxicated young men would shout, sing, and carouse their way through the neighborhood at 1:30 a.m. We lived in a ground-level flat, and once or twice I thought they were coming through the door. But they didn’t, and went harmlessly on their way.

And the voices of these people seem giftedly large and operatic, as if they have superior vocal cords and enjoy using them. They would burst into resonant song in the middle of a thoroughfare or in a busy restaurant. And there is great tolerance for youthful enthusiasm and excesses. Big boys and little boys, but all playful and...

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