I remember / je me souviens
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For those limbic bursts of nostalgia, invented by Proust, miniaturized by Nicholson Baker, and freeze-dried by Joe Brainard in his I remember and by Georges Perec in his Je me souviens.

But there are no fractions, the world is an integer
Like us, and like us it can neither stand wholly apart nor disappear.
When one is young it seems like a very strange and safe place,
But now that I have changed it feels merely odd, cold
And full of interest.
          --John Ashbery, "A Wave"

Sometimes I sense that to put real confidence in my memory I have to get to the end of all rememberings. That seems to say that I forego remembering. And now that strikes me as an accurate description of what it is to have confidence in one's memory.
          --Stanley Cavell, The Claim of Reason


Monday, February 25, 2002
I remember learning about quicksand. There was something very creepy about it. I think I learned about it in a movie -- I seem to recall King Arthur being chased by some knights. But they and all their gorgeous trappings sink into quicksand, and my father explained to me what it was. Later, in the first Man from Uncle book (United Network Command for Law and Enforcement), I think, Napoleon Solo or maybe Ilya Kuryakin gets stuck in quicksand, and then I learned that you could swim through it if you were very calm and maintained a perfect horizontal. The trick was not to hurry and not to panic. In the same book there's a terrible failure of narrative: Napoleon Solo has a dream that he has to climb an enormous flight of stairs or something, and he climbs and climbs and bursts through a steel door, and by this time the writer has forgotten that this is a dream, and the whole rest of the novel unfolds from there. I spent hours paging back and forth trying to find out where the dream ended. But it didn't.

I remember Bruce Tegner's books on self-defense. And in the same non-fiction section of the bookstore, books on UFOs. And they were non-fiction! And everyone reading Jeanne Dixon's A Gift for Prophecy. I remember trying to read War With the Newts, by Capec, who also wrote about robots. But I could never quite figure out what was going on. I do remember though some alien from a transcendental realm asking one of the heroes "What's the lightest color you can see?" and its disappointed surprise that the lightest color the human can see is white. I was very struck by this, because I knew it was fiction but it seemed such a neat reference to something you couldn't know how to refer to -- that realm of colors lighter than white -- even in novels.


posted by william 8:28 PM
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