Showing posts with label Memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Memory. Show all posts

Monday, November 30, 2009

"In the Fourth Year of the War" by Harlan Ellison

I've said this before here, but let me reiterate: I pity every single person that has ever pissed off Harlan Ellison (I believe that they are legion). "In the Fourth Year of the War" is another sort of revenge story in which the main character, now in the fourth year of a war with the homicidal split personality in his head, is driven to murder every person who has done him or his loved ones wrong, including an old neighbour from his childhood that had his dog put down, and even his ex-wife.

The story itself seems to hinge on the idea that we are made up of our memories, including the bad ones, and that, as human beings, we never really let things go (quite disturbingly, Ellison mentions in the introduction from the Shatterday anthology that one of the inspirations for this story was a woman who had his dog put down when he was young, whom he never forgave). Of course, he's not condoning the main characters murderous actions in the story, rather that this is what not properly dealing with the memories we carry with us can lead to, and that, in some way, all people have a similar problem to the protagonist, which only serves to make the story that much creepier.

Monday, November 9, 2009

"Snow" by John Crowley

John Crowley's "Snow" is a commentary on how human memory works and, more specifically, a reasoning against the idea that human memory is somehow imperfect. This is not, of course, to say that Crowley is arguing that people are capable of remembering everything perfectly. That would be absurd. Instead, he's arguing that our inability, over time, to remember every detail of every moment of our lives is, in a sense, a good thing. This is because, instead of the minutiae of our lives, we are instead left with broad impressions of things. Perhaps the occasional, semi-conscious remembrance of a single person or event that affected us greatly. In the end, Crowley argues, and I wholeheartedly agree, that this second type of non-rational memory, the kind of memory that is composed of impressions and not "facts" or "details," is far more important to us.

Of course, there's a lot more going on here than this thesis on the nature of human memory. This just composes the backbone of a story the explores how people might try to overcome what is generally viewed as "imperfect" memory, and how their attempts, ultimately, fail. It's an intriguing idea, and very well fleshed out, although I still feel it's entirely secondary to the exploration of memory in general.

Friday, September 11, 2009

"The Edge of Nowhere" by James Patrick Kelly

It's not that I didn't enjoy this story. I did enjoy it quite a bit. I just feel like I've sort of read it before. Kelly's story is set in the small town of Nowhere, which is populated by people forcibly taken from various time periods by the myterious "cognisphere." No one living in Nowhere knows why they're there, or what the cognisphere is. Appropriately, they also don't know exactly where Nowhere is (It appears to be set on top of a giant cliff surrounded by a vaguely abstract green and yellow grid). Also, somehow connected to all this if the MemEx system, a system which tracks the stories the residents of Nowhere tell to each other about their pasts. Strangely, the residents of Nowhere carry currency through this MemEx system, acquiring credit through hearing stories and spending credit by telling. What's interesting though is that none of the stories appear to be new.

That is until the main character, Lorraine Carraway, operator of the Nowhere Very Memorial Library, encourages her boyfriend, Will, to try his hand at writing The Great American Novel. This act sets something new into place, and seems to bring a sort of personal focus to Will, who we find out early on is a bit of a restless dilettente. Almost inevitably, Will's work on his novel seems to lead him to think about what is really going on in Nowhere, and whether there is something beyond its borders. By creating something new in a world that is simply a rehasing of everything that has come before, Will (who I don't think is named Will by conincidence) is, not to give too much away, set free. Of course, the cognisphere also tries to stop this freeing by sending three of its agents (three very well-dressed dogs, but that's another post altogether) to retrieve the manuscript.

When I say that I feel that I've read this before, it's because it often seems to closely mirror other major stories about the idea that there is something beyond what we see or what we know. I was reminded of "The Truman Show" throughout this story, and it also seems to share some pedigree with "The Matrix," although I think this story does a much better job of dealing with things like reality and perception than "The Matrix" ever did. I guess, ultimately, the difference between this story and the movies I've mentioned above, is that Kelly seems to be more concerned with the idea of creation as a way of escape. That the new can be a way out of the repetitiveness of life, maybe? I'm not sure.

In the end, I did enjoy this story, and, the more I think about it here, the more willing I am to say that it was truly quite good. It still echoes some very familiar themes in places, but I'm not sure that's as bad as I origninally thought.