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


Wednesday, May 02, 2012
I remember Tirzah. I remember an afternoon at Colette's house. It was nice weather, and we sat outside her front door--Colette in her chair with her back to her entry, the rest of us arranged on the pillowed concrete benches built in to either side of the entryway. I remember Tirzah coming a little before dusk, and telling a troubled dream (which I don't recall). Colette asked Tirzah and then each of us how we felt at the end of the dream (or its retelling). Then someone showed a painting of a severe-looking, dark, long-faced man. I don't remember what I said about the painting, but I do remember what Colette said: You are attracted to what you fear. After Colette died, Tirzah held a salon in her house for the students to share their memories together. Though I was too young to have been a student when I was in Israel, Tirzah welcomed me warmly. Her home was beautiful, and we gathered in her enclosed mirpeset (balcony). I sat on the floor, which was so thick with rich carpets that it felt like sitting on a bed.


posted by Rosasharn 1:31 PM
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