I remember / je me souviens
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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, September 08, 2003
I remember how good my father was at getting pillows into pillow-cases. (He still is, probably.) I remember how crazy the business drove me. My father would hold the pillow under his chin, and then pull the case straight up. But when I tried to do that, my chin wasn't big enough to hold it securely, and I couldn't see down to the bottom of the pillow, and my arms weren't long enough to get the case adroitly around it and then to pull it up. It was one of those experiences of paralyzing frustration that just drive you crazy. The pillow never slid smoothly into the case either, once you got it in, and often I'd drop the whole thing and have to start over. Beckett in Molloy has a sex scene in which Molloy's experience of copulation is like trying to get a pillow into a pillow case, but in Molloy it's an adult problem and an adult fiasco, not the sheer pointless difficulty that I experienced as a child.


posted by william 10:31 PM
. . .
0 comments
Comments:

Post a Comment





. . .