Remembering
I remembered to set last night's Horizon to record. It was a programme about memory. I watched it about an hour ago and I've already forgotten most of what it was about, because it was one of those programmes that was far more form than content.
Lots of music and lots of visual effects of flashy and wibbly things to convey the effect of - - well, I'm not sure, really. To convey the effect that it was a kind of scientific programme.
There was a French-Canadian girl who'd been sexually abused and they gave her a drug to make the memory fade, and it seemed to be working. There was a man with Alzheimer's: he'd had it diagnosed at the age of fifty-three, and now, seven years later, he could talk about how he could still run. But he couldn't, say, get himself a glass of water.
One of the key points it made - actually, one of the only points, as far as I can remember - was that memory doesn't just help you to reminisce about the past, it helps you to plan the future. So if one day you were on your way home and a lion rushed from its den and tried to eat you, but you escaped, you would have a bad memory of the event and would also know not to go past the lion's den the next day: you'd go the long way round instead.
This kind of autobiographical memory, it explained (see, I'm beginning to remember more about it now) is different from the kind of memory that remembers FACTS. The autobiographical memory doesn't really kick in until the age of five, apparently.
Hmm, I'm not so sure about that. I remember lots of things from before I was five, and so does Emily. But we were both early talkers and late walkers (you can cut out those exclamations of mock-surprise right now). Emily started to talk at ten months old. I'm convinced that early language acquisition helps with early memory, because language gives you a framework to remember things with.
But perhaps that's just me, because I'm so words-orientated. Certainly, at school, I always reckoned I could remember just about anything if it was put into words: give me a mnemonic and I'd remember it for ever. And they gave us plenty.
Let us consider adjectives in Latin that keep the e, shall we? Here's a little rhyme we were given:
A tener slave with an asper ring
His legs were lacer, poor miser thing
If I were liber ac prosper, he said
I'd have frugifer hands and a plumiger head.
Okay, I haven't considered adjectives in Latin that keep the e since before my sixteenth birthday, since I'd done the O-level by then. So I decided to look in my head and see if they were still there. And up they popped immediately. Here's the meaning:
A TENDER slave with a ROUGH ring
His legs were LACERATED, poor WRETCHED thing
If I were FREE and PROSPEROUS, he said
I'd have FRUITFUL hands and a FEATHERY head.
The keeping the e bit - since I know this fascinates you - was that when you decline the word (oh, don't ask), instead of going tener, tener, tenrum, and missing the e out, it goes tener, tener, tenerum, and keeps the e, and there are only a few adjectives that do that, and these are they.
Memory, eh? Wonderful, and so very useful.
Lots of music and lots of visual effects of flashy and wibbly things to convey the effect of - - well, I'm not sure, really. To convey the effect that it was a kind of scientific programme.
There was a French-Canadian girl who'd been sexually abused and they gave her a drug to make the memory fade, and it seemed to be working. There was a man with Alzheimer's: he'd had it diagnosed at the age of fifty-three, and now, seven years later, he could talk about how he could still run. But he couldn't, say, get himself a glass of water.
One of the key points it made - actually, one of the only points, as far as I can remember - was that memory doesn't just help you to reminisce about the past, it helps you to plan the future. So if one day you were on your way home and a lion rushed from its den and tried to eat you, but you escaped, you would have a bad memory of the event and would also know not to go past the lion's den the next day: you'd go the long way round instead.
This kind of autobiographical memory, it explained (see, I'm beginning to remember more about it now) is different from the kind of memory that remembers FACTS. The autobiographical memory doesn't really kick in until the age of five, apparently.
Hmm, I'm not so sure about that. I remember lots of things from before I was five, and so does Emily. But we were both early talkers and late walkers (you can cut out those exclamations of mock-surprise right now). Emily started to talk at ten months old. I'm convinced that early language acquisition helps with early memory, because language gives you a framework to remember things with.
But perhaps that's just me, because I'm so words-orientated. Certainly, at school, I always reckoned I could remember just about anything if it was put into words: give me a mnemonic and I'd remember it for ever. And they gave us plenty.
Let us consider adjectives in Latin that keep the e, shall we? Here's a little rhyme we were given:
A tener slave with an asper ring
His legs were lacer, poor miser thing
If I were liber ac prosper, he said
I'd have frugifer hands and a plumiger head.
Okay, I haven't considered adjectives in Latin that keep the e since before my sixteenth birthday, since I'd done the O-level by then. So I decided to look in my head and see if they were still there. And up they popped immediately. Here's the meaning:
A TENDER slave with a ROUGH ring
His legs were LACERATED, poor WRETCHED thing
If I were FREE and PROSPEROUS, he said
I'd have FRUITFUL hands and a FEATHERY head.
The keeping the e bit - since I know this fascinates you - was that when you decline the word (oh, don't ask), instead of going tener, tener, tenrum, and missing the e out, it goes tener, tener, tenerum, and keeps the e, and there are only a few adjectives that do that, and these are they.
Memory, eh? Wonderful, and so very useful.
posted by Daphne at 8:52 pm
5 Comments:
My 3rd grade teacher taught us times tables in song. I still hum quietly to myself when trying to work out a math problem, bless her. Thank you Mrs Chappell!!
"I'm convinced that early language acquisition helps with early memory, because language gives you a framework to remember things with."
You know, this is the area I wish I was researching, as opposed to what I am actually researching. Surely the conceptual framework comes first, otherwise how would we know what a given word actually describes. If you have no concept of tree, then surely you cannot attach a word to that concept.
And, certainly, I know that when I set ideas in writing, I frequently surprise myself at the conclusions I reach. One of the reasons I'm looking forward to finishing my thesis is that I really want to know what I think about the Cossack revival. I don't believe I am at all unusual in this.
All of which suggests that there is a lot going on at a level that is deeper than language, which is merely a tool to express those processes.
In retrospect, I might have been better posting all this at mine rather than clogging up your comments, sorry.
My nephew used his earliest language to describe events in his life prior to his ability to speak. He understood spoken language at a fairly normal age but spoke and walked quite late. He was ahead of the average verbal curve by 3 years old though.
My mother is still astonished by his describing events that happened before his first birthday though. He was well over two when he first spoke of them.
Interesting! Amy, I can still sing the countries of South America, should anyone ever need me to.
Ian, please leave a comment whenever you like, thank you!
Ailbhe, I think this is a fascinating area. Is it that children with early language remember things better - or is it just that they can talk about the things that they remember? I tend to think that the ones who acquire speech early also acquire knowledge of what things are - like Ian's tree - early, and I think that's what helps them to remember. But that's just my theory - -
Well, it's also possible that my nephew understood spoken language from other people to a more complex degree than average for his age long, long before he spoke it himself. We can't tell.
Rob has an almost entirely visual memory. His Special Gifted Child areas were maths and mathematical sciences, though he was ahead of average on language too. But he has very little in the way of verbal memory. Almost all visual.
Post a Comment
<< Home