Wondermentalist

This kind of follows on from the previous post (Magic memories, Tricks of the Mind). It’s another memory poem. One that I was reminded of. And feel nostalgic for. There was a feature about a woman who’d gone back to live in the place she’d grown up in, a place of which she had magical memories, only to find the real place and the place of magical memories were not the same. We could all have warned her, I’m sure.

Which isn’t to say we won’t need someone to warn us, too, when it comes to it.

This is the place. But not how I remember.

Nothing looks or sounds as luscious now as then
Except the opening chords of News at Ten…

I love the way it starts off vaguely reflective and half-way clever, then just goes off on one. I admit that I changed the last line because the original was too site-specific. And the line “the self-abuse was excellent” is in parentheses because it deserves to be. It’s an after-thought. Like this.

PS I admit the Argos link is misleading, but I oculdn’t bring myself to do a ‘proper’ one. Anyway it all becoomes clear if you click on the Green Shields link. If you only click on one link, however, make it the tardis link. Treat yourself to a true nostalgic frisson…

The mind can play strange tricks. It’s possible to go to sleep and dream of winning a raffle, then wake up in the morning next to the chairperson of the church fête committee. It’s possible to think of a person then later to meet them in a shop. Freaky.

Memory is particularly vulnerable to muddle and manipulation. Who among us hasn’t at some time been quite sure that something had happened, only to find, later, that it had just been a stick cartoon drawn by your uncle. A really vivid one.

Happens to the best of us. Who among us hasn’t forgotten something, sometime, and thought, Tch! I wish I had a better memory!!!

Anyway, this isn’t really to do with that. I wanted a nice intro, and I honestly think that was one. Weird, eh?

There was a memory man on Saturday Live, a really nice man called Ben Pridmore. Ben has won the World Memory Championship and is currently number two in the world in the memory sports ranking. Not bad for an unassuming man in a black felt hat with a surprisingly soft voice, a bit like Jon Ronson’s. I just googled him and it turns out he had his own blog. He doesn’t mention me, of course. He’s not that sort of memory man.

Anyway, I wrote a poem inspired by his presence. I thought I’d try to tease out the difference between the memory as a muscle and the tricks it can perform, alongside the kind of memories we tend to value and cherish. I did this with limited success, nevertheless I like the poem, though I say it as shouldn’t.

Magical Memories – a regrettably forgettable yet unforgetful love poem

You said, Hey do you seriously think that kind of thing can impress me?
And I closed the book, and my eyes, and said, Test me.

There you have it. What do you reckon? I was glad/relieved/ that they all laughed at the end. [They being Ben, Muriel Gray (on stand-in duty for Fi Glover) and Bettany Hughes, historian, broadcaster, author of Helen of Troy: Goddess, Princess, Whore. I put this in because for some reason I feel we all have a duty to read it, and her next book, which is a biography of Socrates.]

But the highest praise came from Maria, executive producer, who told me the poem was timed at 1.01 mins. A record for Saturday Live poets, she said. There’s management skill for you. I’m bound to be in under the minute next time. (Next time is December 1st, thanks for wondering.)