Memories

After discussion about the "good, but not that good" Purple Hibiscus petered out at book club last week, we turned to the topic of memory. One attendee asserted that people were getting lazier about what they remembered. As proof, she cited the memory palaces that medieval monks used to construct to remember information -- a memory-based act of will that allowed the transmission of culture through the ages. I don't really see this as evidence that we aren't trying hard enough to remember things; medieval monks just didn't have to contend with TV or the Internet and had a simple filter on what they learnt and thus remembered. We don't. We're constantly bombarded with information, most of it unwanted. If monks had had to contend with pictures of cats in sinks and the the various conspiracy theories about Tom Cruise, their memory palaces would have filled up in days, not years.

My belief is that our brains are designed to hold only a certain amount of information. Once you've reached that limit, some stuff drops out -- and you have very little control over what stays and what goes. For example, I cannot remember the mobile phone number I've had for the past four years, but I can, unfortunately, recall the theme tune to Terry and June. I can't remember the names of people I've lived with in the past, but do know the results and key incidents of the first football match I went to see.* OK, so the latter does have special meaning for me, but the theme tune to Terry & June has no emotional resonance -- I hope.

I don't think anyone really wants to admit that there's a limit on what you can know. And there's always the argument that there are a lot of people -- usually academics -- who know an awful lot more than other people. But I don't think that's true. They normally know a lot about a subject that you know very little about, which is why you hold their knowledge in high regard, but you'll know equally much about topics that they like to disdain -- such as the plot lines of Friends or who shot JR.** Different topics, but not different amounts.

I don't think my fellow attendee was convinced by my argument, but I'm pretty sure I dropped in her estimation. Having the past 15 years of celebrity gossip at my fingertips does not, apparently, equate to knowing some stuff about medieval history. Shame.

* Norwich vs Tottenham, December 27, 1980. It was a 2:2 draw, a keeper was stretchered off, a black dog ran onto the pitch, and Fashanu (Justin) scored from a penalty.

** Sue-Ellen's sister, Kristin.