“Funes the Memorious” has long been one of my favorite short stories by Argentine author Jorge Luis Borges. In it, Borges describes a fictional character who has an accident and becomes unable to forget anything:
Funes…reveals that, since his fall from the horse, he perceives everything in full detail and remembers it all. He remembers, for example, the shape of clouds at all given moments, as well as the associated perceptions (muscular, thermal, etc.) of each moment. Funes has an immediate intuition of the mane of a horse or the form of a constantly changing flame that is comparable to our (normal people’s) intuition of a simple geometric shape such as a triangle or square.
In order to pass the time, Funes has engaged in projects such as reconstructing a full day’s worth of past memories (an effort which, he finds, takes him another full day), and constructing a “system of enumeration” that gives each number a different, arbitrary name. Borges correctly points out to him that this is precisely the opposite of a system of enumeration, but Funes is incapable of such understanding.
Funes is an extreme example of memory run amok to the point of being dysfunctional. But there are real people who are only a bit less memorious than Funes, although they seem to keep their abilities compartmentalized so that they don’t take over their lives. “60 Minutes” had a fascinating piece on them that aired last night, featuring five people who have Rainman-like capabilities but are not autistic (one is a well-known actress).
Here’s a bit about them and the genesis of the show [NOTE: That video seems to have disappeared, so I’m linking to one of the show itself]:
A personal note: I exhibit a small area of strangely enhanced memory myself, although nothing remotely as impressive as theirs. I often remember what I wore, especially if it was during emotional or important situations. I sometimes remember what others around me wore, too.
This ability goes back to early childhood. It is mostly a visual thing, although I also recall parts of the conversation pretty clearly, especially if it was upsetting (the “60 Minutes” piece said that adrenalin enhances memory, and I believe it). For me the memory of the event often includes the setting in which it took place, where I was standing, where the other person was standing, what I was wearing, and sometimes what they were wearing.
For example, I have a memory of an argument with my mother when I was about two. I was objecting to something she wanted me to do, much in the way of the typical two-year-old. We were standing on the porch in the summertime, and I had on a yellow skirt decorated with red rickrack.
There is no photo of the scene to jog my memory, nor even a photo of the skirt, but I remember it well. Plus, there’s no one around who can correct me or tell me I’m wrong. My mother was the only witness, and she’s almost 97. What’s more, she hardly remembered it in the first place—it just wasn’t significant to her, and she doesn’t have that sort of visual memory.
I also remember—or believe I remember—every article of clothing I ever owned. One would think that I place extraordinary emphasis on clothes and am exceptionally interested in them. But no, not in the least; I’m about average in the respect.
[NOTE: Here’s a Wiki article on the type of memory exhibited by the people in the “60 Minutes” piece. It’s considered exceedingly rare.]
