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


Thursday, September 25, 2003
I remember Karen K, who was in P.S. 166 with me, and lived in my building. She was a tom boy, the first in a series of tom boys (does that term still exist? I remember we also used the inverse tom girl, just for the symmetry, but I doubt that was ever a real term) whom I used to hang out with, wrestle, and otherwise engage in faintly protosexual activity. Karen and I used to wrestle each other into positions where we could tie each other up to her bedpost; then whoever was tied up would escape and we'd do it again. In fact this may be the only specific memory of Karen that I have -- the rest being the general facts of how she looked, where she lived, and also that we went to school together. That wrestling match, that bedpost, stands for everything I remember about her, which seems to be a lot more. I think my memory of Cathy Yerzley is only barely more diversified. And yet they were among the most important populators of my childhood.


posted by william 10:52 PM
. . .
0 comments
Comments:




. . .