Story-telling

This is an excerpt from page 165 of Tristram Shandy on the nature of story-telling:

"Oh ye Powers! (for powers ye are, and great ones too)--which enable mortal man to tell a story worth the hearing--that kindly shew him, where he is to begin it--and where he is to end it--what he is to put into it--and what he is to leave out--how much of it he is to cast into a shade--and whereabouts he is to throw his light!--Ye, who preside over this vast empire of biographical freebooters, and see how many scrapes and plunges your subjects hourly fall into;--will you do one thing?

"I beg and beseech you (in case you will do nothing better for us) that wherever in any part of your dominions it so falls out, that three several roads meet in one point, as they have done just there--that at least you set up a guide-post in the centre of them, in mere charity, to direct an uncertain devil which if the three he is to take."

Term Paper

For my term paper, I'm considering writing about how the development of writing has intensified humanity's sense of self, and how it's become evident over time with the rise of post-modern literature. I'm reading Tristram Shandy now (it's not post-modern literature, as far as the time period, but it has a lot of similarities), and it's hard for me not to see a complete lack of community, or really anything besides the author. It's almost like a diary; Ong says on page 101, "The kind of verbalized solipsistic reveries [the diary] implies are a product of consciousness as shaped by print culture." In chapter 7, under the heading "The Inward Turn: Consciousness and the Text," he says, "the stages of consciousness described in a Jungian framework move toward a selfconscious, articulate, highly personal, interiority." 

It's circular in my head at this point: consciousness brings rise to the word, the word heightens consciousness, which in turn produces print, heightening consciousness even more. 

Memory theater tour

For my presentation, I memorized 50 important works of architecture. I used the house I grew up in, now the house my parents live in. I'll go through the beginning, but not the whole thing because it's so personal it might be tedious for the normal reader. 

--Crystal Palace: I started in the garage for this one, which I just pictured as a crystal palace

--Paddington Station: This was the key rack in the entryway. The station is a place of transportation and the keys facilitate transportation

--Statue of Liberty: A decorative cutting board that is hung on the wall. I pictured the cutting board having a picture of the statue

--Eiffel Tower: A wine rack next to the sink. It's made mostly of wires so it reminds me of the tower

--Galerie Des Machines: The sink, because it's a machine

--Reliance Building: The stovetop. It was designed by a guy named Burnham, so I thought of the burning stove

--Glascow School of Art: A print by Escher in the living room

--Larkin Building and Unity Temple: The bookshelf in the living room. Both of the buildings are by Wright, and we have a lot of books about him in the bookshelf

--Ponthieu Garage: The TV nook, because it's like a little garage for the television

--Palais Stoclet: My dad's office, because it's like his own little home

Now I'm just going to do the interesting ones...

--Turbine Factory: A sculpture my brother made for my mom that's dedicated to my grandpa. It's made completely of recycled farm machinery and reminds me of turbines that might be on a farm

--Schroder House: Our China cabinet. My grandma's maiden name is Schroeder, and we have all of her China on display here

--Fallingwater: The staircase, because it descends like a waterfall

--Kaufmann Desert House: My old room in the basement. The first time I visited my house after moving out, my parents had already converted my bedroom into a workout room. I thought the word "deserted" fit well here 

Forgetting

I am making it a goal to blog every day from here on out...hopefully I'll be able to stick to it. This entry has been a long time coming, but I just haven't gotten around to writing it all down.

In Ong's chapter "You know what you can recall: mnemonics and formulas," he says, "Putting experience into any words (which mean transforming it at least a little bit--not the same as falsifying it) can implement its recall." (page 36) This struck a personal chord for me because, for starters, I have always had a terrible memory. I can't remember any specific events from most of my childhood up until I was probably fifteen. Every now and then I'll get fleeting glimpses but I don't have any real recollection of many events early on. I've come up with a few different theories as to why this happened to me. Maybe something traumatic happened to me when I was young that I don't remember, so I've blocked it out, along with everything else. I'm really good at blocking things out and forgetting about them all together. Sometimes my mom will remember a story about when I was younger and I will tell her that I hadn't thought about that for twelve years and probably would have forgotten it forever if she hadn't brought it up. But as I was reading Ong's chapter on recollection, something different occurred to me. Ever since I learned to write when I was four, I have been writing everything down. (I know this because I still have the written things, not because I can remember it--ironic, I know.) Ong says that putting experience into words can implement its recall; maybe I have written so much down on paper that I have written very little down in my memory. Words have always been so important to me--perhaps everything that happened to me has been transformed in my twisted head from experience to word, and therefore forgotten forever.