October the Twenty Eighth Post

What Triggers Increased Cognitive Awareness, Represented Through Time?

"In the year one thousand seven hundred and eighteen, when this happened, it was extremely difficult; so that when my uncle Toby discovered the transverse zig-zaggery of my father's approaches towards it, it instantly brought into his mind those he had done duty in, before the gate of St. Nicolas;—the idea of which drew off his attention so intirely from the subject in debate, that he had got his right hand to the bell to ring up Trim to go and fetch his map of Namur, and his compasses and sector along with it, to measure the returning angles of the traverses of that attack,—but particularly of that one, where he received his wound upon his groin. . . .
Any man, I say, Madam, but my uncle Toby, the benignity of whose heart interpreted every motion of the body in the kindest sense the motion would admit of, would have concluded my father angry, and blamed him too. My uncle Toby blamed nothing but the taylor who cut the pocket-hole;—so sitting still till my father had got his handkerchief out of it, and looking all the time up in his face with inexpressible good-will—my father, at length, went on as follows." -- Sterne, Tristram Shandy, pages 114 and 116

"Time, with all its celerity, moves slowly to him whose whole employment is to watch its flight." -- Johnson, The Idler No. 21

The amount of time that is spent describing how Walter Shandy reaches into his jacket pocket, and how much time is said to pass while Toby is observing it, recalled this quote of Samuel Johnson's. It's interesting how one specific act so captures the attention of Tristram's uncle, and leads him to a completely unrelated association. Of course, any question of attention, whether divided or not, and related distractions are interesting in the context of this . . . novel. Thing. Especially when Tristram acknowledges how long it is taking him to write his autobiography, and how the pacing will quickly overwhelm him, he advertises the celerity of time when a man is anticipating something, which is intriguing when contrasted to how slowly time is said to move when one is completely engrossed in something. It's a mess of contradictions. The central question that this raises, for me, is the question of perception. How did people perceive time? Were they like me, and they simply cannot fit everything they wish to accomplish in a day, a week, a lifetime? The Idler was particularly enlightening with this, especially since I identified with it. For how much I stress over being so busy, I can't imagine being idle. Stagnation is to deteriorate. 

October the Twenty First Post

What Constitutes "Memory"?

"And who, of all mean in the world, troubled his brain the least with abstruse thinking;  ---the ideas of time and space, --- or how we came by those ideas, --- or of what stuff they were made, --- or whether they were born with us, --- or we pick'd them up afterwards as we went along, -- or whether we did it in frocks, --- or not till we had got into breeches, ---- with a thousand other inquiries and disputes about infinity, presence, liberty, necessity, and so forth . . ." -- Sterne, Tristram Shandy, page 138

"One accomplishment which seems always to have been greatly admired by both ancient and medieval writers was the ability to recite a text backwards as well as forwards, or to skip around in it in a systematic way, without becoming lost or confused. The ability to do this marked the difference between merely being able to imitate something (to reproduce it by rote) and really knowing it, being able to recall it in various ways." -- Carruthers, The Book of Memory, page 21

The historical reading for this week was exceptionally interesting, mostly because I am most fascinated by memory, as well as the distinction between memory and reminiscence. Immediately when I read my quote from that piece, I thought of Tristram Shandy and how he skips around his narrative, yet always brings his tale back full circle to continue the story. In general, it is just an interesting read with its ideas on Locke, the progression of time, and of course the distraction of the mind. It's difficult to read it without becoming distracted one's self, though one can usually just settle into a skimming mode. How that affects retention of the book remains to be seen. 

October the Fourteenth Post

Does a Link Exist Between Distraction and Following Curiosity?

"I find it necessary to consult every one a little in his turn; and therefore must beg pardon for going on a little further in the same way: For which cause, right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself in the way I have done; and that I am able to go on tracing every thing in it, as Horace says, ab Ovo. . . . To such, however, as do not choose to go so far back into these things, I can give no better advice, than that they skip over the remaining part of this Chapter; for I declare beforehand, 'tis wrote only for the curious and inquisitive." -- Tristam Shandy, page 4

"Cavendish never really fitted into polite society. In Worlds Olio (1655), a broadly philosophical work, she explored a wide-ranging number of topics, but a tendency to veer off at bizarre tangents clouded her message. . . .  Like the Duchess of Newcastle, Tryon found it hard to stay focused in his writing, and his asides sometimes confuse his arguments." -- Cockayne, "The City in a Hubbub," pages 3 and 4

The "City in a Hubbub" piece was a particularly interesting read, focusing on the viewpoints of others to gain a sense of life from a specific period. The piece exhibited thirteen amusing people of note, all complete with entertaining biographies. One in particular stuck out to me, as she has been referenced already in class: Margaret Cavendish. She wrote a brilliant poem that we talked about in class, yet this description of her alluded to a more scattered author than I would have supposed from that work. This tendency to "veer off at bizarre tangents" reminded me of how Sterne began Shandy's narration in Tristam Shandy, and how confused I was myself at the narrative. This seemed like a point of pride to Shandy, and a good thing: to follow each line of inquiry was written for "the curious and inquisitive." From earlier discussions and investigations into the origin of the word "curious," this was especially striking. Had the transition already occurred, then, from a otherworldly thing to a noble quest for knowledge? Had it shaken its negative connotation? Or was this suggesting that to be distracted was to be curious and thus unnatural?
I'm curious to follow this line of inquiry, and to see how exactly distraction fit in with being curious, if a link exists at all. And how does attention, our other state of mind for this week, factor in? Is being attentive to particular things like being curious? And how dimensional are these states? It seems to me that to be singularly attentive to something is like being obsessed, and as the previous weeks suggest, that also alludes to being absorbed by the thought of something. Everything is connected.

October the Seventh Post

Quality Over Quantity: How Could the Quality of Books Read Affect Impressionable Readers?

"Oh! Oh! their History! interrupted the Knight! What, I warrant you, they are to be found in the Fairy Tales, and those sort of Books! Well, I never could like such Romances, not I; for they only spoil Youth, and put strange Notions into their Heads. . . 
Upon my Word, resumed Arabella, all the Respect I owe you cannot hinder me from telling you, that I take it extremely ill you should, in my Presence, rail at the finest Productions in the World: I think, we are infinitely obliged to these Authors, who have, in so sublime a Style, delivered down to Posterity the heroic Actions of the bravest Men, and most virtuous of Women: But for the inimitable Pen of the famous Scudery, we had been ignorant of the Lives of many great and illustrious Persons." -- The Female Quixote, pages 61-2

"But the fear of not being approved as just copyers of human manners, is not the most important concern that an author of this sort ought to have before him. These books are written chiefly to the young, the ignorant, and the idle, to whom they serve as lectures of conduct, and introductions into life. They are the entertainment of minds unfurnished with ideas, and therefore easily susceptible of impressions; not fixed by principles, and therefore easily following the current of fancy; not informed by experiences, and consequently open to every false suggestion and partial account." -- Johnson, The Rambler  

From Arabella's upbringing, it's clear how she came to idolize the romance novels as she does, and incorporate them so completely into her everyday life. With her sequestered upbringing, it's commendable that she still became so intelligent, yet that makes it all the more unfortunate that her life was so corrupted by her false ideals. Her devotion and addiction to her subpar romance novels is interesting in the context of our class readings this week on the neuroscience and history of reading, in relation to absorption. We discussed this in class, as well: is it because Arabella so absorbed by her romance novels that they have permeated her thoughts? Or is she past the absorption stage, and obsessed with projecting the situations that she read about onto her own life? I believe that it is the latter, and it is because they were the only reading material available to her for pleasure, as opposed to the mandated coursework readings that her father may have given her for her instruction, that she came to form such a positive association with them, and wanted to model her own lackluster life after such illustrious examples. Johnson's The Rambler is correct here when he asserts that these works of fiction "with which the present generation seems particularly delighted" were written "to the young, the ignorant, and the idle," although Arabella is only socially ignorant; her father removed her from society, and any hope of interaction that would embellish her blank slate with accurate archetypal experiences. Even though Arabella is extremely well read, she made the mistake of accepting her favorite genre as factual. As Johnson suggests, and the Female Quixote sets to prove, this is extremely hazardous to societal life, as it renders her extremely susceptible to such flights of fancy that we have already seen endanger her and embarrass her tenacious admirer.
It's striking that a satire from 1750 about the danger of the impracticability of romance novels through exploiting the "clash between literary illusion and mundane reality" still seems a relevant issue today, with such fodder as Twilight or Fifty Shades of Grey. However, like Johnson admits, "while readers could be procured, the authors were willing to continue it."