Forgetting Defines Us

If, as is often claimed, Alzheimer’s disease is “the disease of the century,” or at least one of the peculiarly emblematic diseases in America at the turn of the twenty-first century, it is not just because of its rising prevalence and  devastating symptoms, but because it has a  strong  resonance with some of the deepest concerns of contemporary culture. This is one of a series of occasional posts that will explore this  cultural resonance. 

One of the most salient concerns in contemporary culture is memory, and it is clear that the prominence of Alzheimer’s is in large part a result of the prominence of memory failure among its many symptoms. But the authority of medicine in popular discourse on Alzheimer’s has fostered a reductive  approach to memory, regarding it essentially to the ability to store and recall information. In this post, I want to gesture toward the broader meanings of  memory and memory by considering how they are used in two important songs in the oeuvre of   one of my heroes — indie music  goddess Ani Difranco. The songs are the title tracks to Dilate (1996) and Little Plastic Castle (1998).

“Dilate” (complete lyrics)  is essentially a song about love gone wrong, but it is lifted above the banality of countless songs on that theme by its images of  memory failure and confusion that reach toward a characterization of the human condition in late modernity.

Lifted out of the context of the song, the imagery of memory failure and confusion could be taken as  a fairly standard description of  nightmarish memory failure in dementia:

i wake up in the night 
and i don’t know where the bathroom is 
and i don’t know what town i’m in 
or what sky i am under 
and i wake up in the darkness and i 
don’t have the will anymore to wonder 


and i learn every room long enough 
to make it to the door 
and then i hear it click shut behind me 
and every key works differently 
i forget every time 
and the forgetting defines me 
that’s what defines me” 

But in the  context of the song, these images have a quite a different meaning.  Though the song is meticulously evasive about what is actually going on in the narrator’s life, nothing in it  suggests that the forgetting which defines the narrator is a literal inability  to recall information, or that the problem is a defect in her brain. Nor is she simply using memory loss and confusion as a metaphor for the feelings that accompany a bad love affair. Rather, the song suggests that the banality of life has come to defy her ability to render it meaningful, and that this  disruption of meaning has come to define her. The song concludes by embracing this situation, painful as it may be.

“Little Plastic Castle” (complete lyrics) is a celebration of unorthodox sexuality, articulating the joy to be experienced and the social price to be paid for for violating heterosexual norms of femininity, for simply being different.

But the song begins with an evocation of  quotidian memory failure. The problem is not  with the narrator’s mind or brain, but with  a mass culture that replicates experience endlessly so that location and time are blended together into an undifferentiated now.

in a coffee shop in a city
which is every coffee shop in every city
on a day which is every day
i picked up a magazine
which is every magazine
read a story, and then forgot it right away”

The next verse goes further to suggest that this sort of forgetfulness is not an accident, but a structured, imposed feature of  a modern social life that is full of little plastic castles.

they say goldfish have no memory
i guess their lives are much like mine
and the little plastic castle
is a surprise every time
and it’s hard to say if they’re happy
but they don’t seem much to mind”

This is the trap, the false promise of late modern consumer culture that leads the narrator to to forget where she is, to forget the hostility that she will inevitably have to endure and that she describes in the remainder of the song.

In these songs, memory  is not merely the ability to recall information and be oriented in time and place. It is the ability to make meaning, to connect the past, the present and future together into a meaningful life story. And memory failure is not caused only by something gone wrong in an individual body and brain, but also by the oppressive banality and social contradictions of contemporary experience in late modern consumer culture.  Keeping these broader meanings of memory and forgetting in mind can deepen the way we think about the experience of confusion and memory loss in dementia.


One thought on “Forgetting Defines Us

  1. On my holidays I re-read ‘Love in the time of cholera’ by Gabriel García Márquez. It is a lovely book. Apart from the story of love and ageing, this book reminded me (as a doctor) just how reductive the medical take on memory is:

    “He compensated as much as he could for an increasingly disturbing erosion of memory by scribbling hurried notes on scraps of paper that ended in confusion in each of his pockets, as did the instruments, the bottles of medicine, and all the other things jumbled together in his crowded medical bag. He was not only the city’s oldest and most illustrious physician, he was also its most fastidious man. Still, his too obvious display of learning and the disingenuous manner in which he used the power of his name had one him less affection than he deserved.” P3, Dr Juvenal Urbino

    “While he strained to listen through the clatter of covered dishes, he stared at a blushing boy who nodded to him in greeting. He had seen him somewhere, no doubt about that, but he could not remember where. This often happened to him, above all with people’s names, even those he knew well, or with a melody from other times, and it caused him such dreadful anguish that one night he would have preferred to die rather than endure it until dawn. He was on the verge of reaching that state now when a charitable flash illuminated his memory: the boy had been one of his students last year . . . . Dr Jevenal Urbino greeted him with a joyful wave of his hand and the young doctor stood up and responded with a bow. But not then, not ever, did he realize that this was the intern who had been with him that morning in the house of Jeremiah de Saint-Amour.” P43

    “But what disturbed him most was his lack of confidence in his own power of reason: little by little, as in an ineluctable shipwreck, he felt himself losing his good judgment. With no scientific basis except his own experience, Dr Juvenal Urbino knew that most fatal diseases had their own specific odour, but that none was as specific as old age.” P47

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