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


Friday, October 24, 2003
I remember a particular kid whose hair grew really fast, so that in a flash he seemed my age and not the full two-year-generation younger that he had been -- Peter Obstler. And I remember one day (this was on the basketball courts south of the Promenade, on 80th street or so, in Riverside Park) Peter said that he was trying to savor the years before he graduated high school (I think he was in seventh grade and I was in ninth), because he knew that once he graduated, he'd just suddenly accelerate and find himself eighty years old. This seemed amazing, a thought that had never occured to me but that was strikingly, vividly right. Well, it isn't happening as fast as Peter predicted, but I must say it is happening a whole lot faster than I anticipated before he made that quirkily charming, melancholy remark, grinning with a kind of lopsided punkish authority as he stood with his back to the bench that we were tying our sneakers on that day.

(If I was in ninth grade, I was fourteen, and my uptown grandfather would have been eighty-one. So this made plausible how he got to be that old too. After he died, years later, my grandmother would also lament: "It is easy to grow old, but hard to be old.")


posted by william 12:32 AM
. . .
0 comments
Comments:

Post a Comment





. . .