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


Thursday, January 02, 2003
I remember how much I hated getting soap under my nails. I always preferred a new bar of soap because it would be firm. Wet soap was slippery and just to hold it was to risk having to grab it if it started slipping out of my hands, and more often than not that would mean soap under my nails. It felt unpleasant in roughly the same way that silk and blackboard scratching did (on which see a former post): as though something were too close to my skin, too invasive, not through but edge-on. (I think maybe this helped me make sense of the odd horror of the combination when my uptown grandmother told me of the concentration camp victims' being turned into lampshades and soap. I didn't quite understand what that could mean, but I understood that the shades must have been skin, and I shuddered to think of the soap getting under my own.)


posted by william 7:10 AM
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