Did I think I had spelled it correctly? I no longer know, but I am a little disturbed to find that I have spelled, though in parts, “claustrophobic” as “clausterphobic.” Nothing of much consequence, but worth pointing out lest I cause confusion. Surely the world is full enough of it without those who wish they knew better making more.
Something of a little more consequence: I recently had the chance to visit my favorite place in the progressing city of Willmar. And arriving, I laughed! Amid the muddles of my memory, my description of that certain “Favored Crossing” was grossly mistaken. I remember now–after the truth of my error has had its fun at my expense–that as I wrote it, I was thinking how cleanly each of the four branches from the intersection contrasted with its opposite along the same line, how like to semi-illuminated moons were the perpendicular streets, darkness on one side, light on the other. . . . How wrong I was!
Anyone who has seen the intersection of which I spoke (Litchfield Ave. SW and 4th Street SW, I believe.) knows that it is really very unlike my description. It is so unlike that I am in no small way embarrassed that I had believed for so long that it indeed was like my description. I guess in my case, when fancy and memory compete, fancy wins.
I intended that post to be an approximate–if somewhat romanticized–description of that real place in a real city. I failed, building instead an imaginary picture from collected puzzle-pieces of visual data. And now that picture is shaken again to pieces: The edifices before which I seemed to stand in awe are now a disjointed body of random buildings, their histories, forgotten, their characters, shattered.
But such is the meeting of the imperfect world and an idealistic imagination, is it not? Art in any form sees what is in the world and, instead of showing it “like it is” in all its bleak candidness, beautifies it by painting the perfection it approximates, the real reality it represents.
Now I really should find a copy of a certain book by Roger Scruton. Then I might know what I’m saying . . .
Interesting, isn’t it? Augustine meditates on memory in book X of the Confessions. If you haven’t read it, you’ll probably find that worthwhile.
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How does your widget allow for Greek accents? Did you have to fiddle with it? I can’t seem to do Greek accents on wordpress too well.
And thanks for the second link.
The book now lies open on my desk: I’m eager to read! Thanks for the pointer.
What is most interesting to me is how completely my own memory seemed to have duped me. I wrote that post with firm conviction of the correctness of the image in my mind. Was the mistake a trick peculiar to a singular fault of my faculty? How did I get that impression? I wonder.
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No fiddling necessary. All I did was to copy and paste the text from some site.
And you’re welcome. The collection of stories growing as it is there at Landoreth, I could hardly exclude it. But please keep the stories coming!
Caleb and Unk, thanks for the attention to Augustine. Now I’ll have to go read that when I return home.