08 February 2012
Fanny Price, in Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park says “If any one faculty of our nature may be called
more wonderful than the rest I do
think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in
the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other our
intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable so
obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again so
tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way—but our powers of recollecting
and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.” Of course, Freud did a
great deal to explain the workings and misworkings of memory, and Spinoza might
suggest that memory always starts in the body, that the mind is, in fact, the
idea of the body. Neurophysiologists like Antonio Damasio give scientific
credence to Spinoza’s position.
My memory this morning started in
the body. I was driving home from an early morning run with Gary. Today he
celebrates his 62nd birthday. Tomorrow he enters his 63rd year. I rounded a slight bend in the
road and there, just to my East, was the local elementary school and the
parking lot was filled with the cars of school personnel—teachers, administrators, maintenance and custodial
staff. And I suddenly experienced a great pressure localized mostly throughout
my stomach and chest, a pressure such as I might feel when I arrive too late at
the station only to watch the train pull away, or when I watch my child go
through the security gate at the airport. And then I attached some idea to the
feeling, and I recalled all of the mornings that I had arrived at the school
parking lot in the early morning hour, before any students had yet arrived, and
added my warmth and movement to the awakening life of the building. In my
memory I experienced what the cliché refers to as a flood of emotions, but in
fact it wasn’t emotion at all—the sensations were all visceral and I searched
about quickly to locate the source and then I remembered. I have in my life
learned so much about school: all those cars and all those years. Like just
missing the train.
To have a good mind, Spinoza
reminds us, we need a good body; the more complex the body, then the more complex
the mind. So it must be that the memory demands an active life. This morning
the source of memory appeared clear: it started in the body and soon consumed
the mind. And though the memory faded the feeling of the body remains. And I
can call up my life at school at the provocation of the body.
Fanny is correct that memory is
most wonderful, and I think she would be amazed what we have found out about
memory.
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