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 06, 2013
I remember reading a science fiction novel -- maybe Asimov, Fantastic Voyage even, though possibly Robert Silverberg, or Ray Bradbury? -- where some very skillful professional, perhaps a surgeon, is being described to a young, ambitious up-and-comer as having "forgotten more than you'll ever know."  And I wondered why that would be a good thing, since the young person was learning the essentials.  Had the wise professional forgotten them?  That didn't sound good.  And yet I knew this was praise of his skill.


posted by William 8:25 AM
. . .
0 comments
Comments:

Post a Comment





. . .