Memory and Memoirists Part II: Constellations of Self

If you’re writing a memoir, you’re working with memory.

But what is memory? Humans have used every possible discipline—from philosophy to computer science—to answer this question, and we can use that work to understand better how to use memory when we write. 

In Part I, I talked about Aristotle. Now let’s jump ahead a couple thousand years or so to the present and think about how neuroscience understands memory and what that means for memoirists.

As defined in a 2018 article in Frontiers in Systems Neuroscience, memory is “a series of processes involving molecular, biochemical, cellular and circuit level changes in widespread constellations of neurons throughout the brain” (Langille and Brown). Our lived experience is transformed by multiple physical processes into cells, chemicals, and electricity. Our brains are literally changed when we form a memory.

The primary structures involved in creating and storing memories are neurons and the synapses that connect those neurons. As we move through our lives, our brain forms constellations made from neurons and synapses—networks that contain our experiences and learning. Because a key feature of these structures is their plasticity (their ability to change), additional experiences and learning can strengthen these constellations, weaken them, alter them, and connect them to other constellations (Langille and Brown).

When we write about a memory, we are simultaneously using an existing neural network, changing that network, and creating new networks. We are igniting an electrical and chemical extravaganza—stimulating neurons, calling chemicals to jump across those synapses, changing our brain again.

If our very brain is changing as we make memories and as we write about them, then our sense of who we are is likely changing too. We are attempting to tell a story of our self, but that sense of self is in flux. How, then, can we write any kind of coherent story about who we are, or who we were? How can we rely on any memory if memories themselves can change?

The answer is to lean into the dynamic nature of memory, self, and the brain. Take pleasure in exploring and noticing the changes, and don’t worry about getting down the one single, definitive story of your life—just get down the one that makes sense for you right now.

For instance, as you think back to a past self, consider who you thought yourself to be then, and think about how you see that past self now. Your present self may draw different conclusions about your younger self—why you made the choices you made, how significant your successes and failures were, how alone or loved or unusual or flawed or beautiful you were. Acknowledging and thinking about your different perspectives can make for insightful and engaging writing.

Understanding the way your brain forms and reforms those neural constellations can also help you find the story you most want to tell. In The Art of Memoir, Mary Karr describes the process of writing about your life as often disorientating: “You think you know the story so well. It's a mansion inside your head, each room just waiting to be described, but pretty much every memoirist I've ever talked to finds the walls of such rooms changing shape around her.” Those shifting rooms are like our brain as it forms new connections and reconfigures old ones. But those changes aren’t random, and if you can keep going, keep writing, you can end up in a structure that works better than the old one ever did.

The goal, then, is not to start out with a series of separate, clear, and definite memories that translate into a predictable story of your self.  Instead, try to keep your brain sparking and crackling with new connections and new ways of looking at memories and who you were and are. Our ever-shifting sense of self is part of the energy of memoir, for the writer and for the reader.

In my next post, I’ll talk about how some writers have explained the nature of memory.  

****

Works CIted

Karr, Mary. The Art of Memoir. New York, Harper Perennial, 2015.

Langille, Jesse J. and Richard E. Brown. “The Synaptic Theory of Memory: A Historical Survey and Reconciliation of Recent Opposition.” Frontiers in Systems Neuroscience, vol. 1, 26 Oct. 2018, doi.org/10.3389/fnsys.2018.00052.