Posted by Sterling on 8/7/2009, 16:02:02, in reply to "Re: The Sea"
65.15.157.74
-
: "I experienced a sense almost of panic as the
: real, the crassly complacent real, took hold of the
: things I thought I remembered and shook them into its
: own shape. Something precious was dissolving and
: pouring away between my fingers. Yet how easily, in
: the end, I let it go. The past, I mean the real past,
: matters less than we pretend." (pp. 116-17)
:
: I'm not sure what to make of this passage. He easily
: lets his memories go in this instance, but the whole
: story is about how he can't do just that on the larger
: scale.
:
:
I'd like to present my thoughts on this. Memory is, in my opinion, a story we tell ourselves about ourselves. It is definitely a reconstruction, and it is therefore bound to contain inaccuracies. However, after a period of some plasticity, memories tend to become stereotyped, and our memory of a given incident or event becomes stable. This does not mean that this stable memory is an exact copy of reality. Often it is far different.
I have observed this phenomenon myself by watching old movies that I recall fondly but that I have not seen for several years. Almost invariably, I'll recall a scene differently than it actually plays.
If we are confronted with a reality that does not conform to our memory, we are forced to abandon the memory and adjust our thinking to conform to the observed reality. The loss of the treasured memory may be painful, but we will not preserve it when we know that it is not true. On the other hand, we do not usually go to any length to establish the objective reality of our recalled past. If left alone, we are content with our "stories."
Since our memory, our personal narrative, is the basis for our sense of identity, this reconstructive process can become even more interesting.
Message Thread:
« Back to thread