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


Wednesday, February 23, 2005
I remember finding silkworms and some kind of golden larvae on the plants by the driveway, in the days after the rains. Morning glory grew on the balcony right overhead, facing the east and the sun. So there was something special about the driveway region, quaint even while being so utilitarian, and its beauty so dependent on dawn and daylight.


posted by sravana 7:25 PM
. . .
0 comments
Comments:

Post a Comment





. . .