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


Saturday, January 04, 2003
I remember cigarette machines, with their dingy glass or plastic fronts and the cigarette packs piled up in slots. I forget when they went out, in some consent agreement between the manufacturers and the government. You put in your 55 cents (back then!) and pulled out a knob that was like the spring loaded pull start on a pinball machine. With the cigarette machine, if you didn't pull the knob out far enough it would spring back without dropping the pack and you were out your money. The knobs were of a translucent, semi-opaque plastic on a metal rod. I suppose they were vaguely phallic, comfortably so. There were always dead flies in the machines, and the brand names, in front of the stacks of cigarettes, cut out of cartons I think, were always faded. The technology seemed absurdly more primitive than that of soda machines or even juke boxes. I think they calmed you down about smoking: it was all so old and had been around for such a long time that it had to be benign. The general feeling was one of staleness. How could that be dangerous?

I remember that The New Yorker doesn't accept cigarette ads.


posted by william 12:47 AM
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