There's a really wonderful article by Oliver Sacks in the New Yorker this week, excerpted from his forthcoming Musicophilia. I've got a profile of Sacks in the next issue of Seed (hitting newsstands soon), which was a real thrill to write, since he's always been one of my intellectual heroes. Here's how I describe Clive Wearing, the amnesiac subject of the article, in my profile:
One of the final stories in Musicophilia is that of Clive Wearing, an English musician and musicologist who was struck by a severe brain infection that decimated his memory. As a result, Clive lives inside brief parentheses of time, just a few seconds long. "Desperate to hold on to something," Sacks writes, "Clive started to keep a journal. But his journal entries consisted, essentially, of the statements 'I am awake' or 'I am conscious,' entered again and again every few minutes. He would write: '2:10 pm: this time properly awake...2:14 pm: this time finally awake...2:35 pm: this time completely awake.'"The only thing that comforts Clive is music. When he is playing the piano, Clive is suddenly "himself again". The Bach Prelude can't recover his past - that is lost forever - but it does allow him to be fully immersed in the present tense. He can share, if only for a moment, the emotions of the melody. The music is a "bridge across the abyss," a temporary relief from the terrifying loneliness of his amnesia.
Also be sure to check out Deborah Wearing's memoir. And there are a bunch of Clive documentaries on You Tube:
Comments
It seems as though the internet is getting smaller. I posted those videos!
PS. Looking forward to your book.
Posted by: Mark | September 19, 2007 11:43 AM
Could you fix that link to the memoir? Right now, it's linked to the Sacks book again. thanks!
Posted by: Lisa | September 20, 2007 6:43 PM
what others (and Lehrer) perceive as Sack's connection with the humanity of others, I see as a none too subtle fascination with and display of freaks. Sacks is like the kid at the circus pointing at the Bearded Lady. because he maintains a faux innocence, he gets away with it. but just because you cry along with the freak doesn't mean that your stance is any less inhumane. and just because you don't actually call him or her a freak doesn't mean that that is not your focus. indeed, his fascination with his own incipient blindness is an admission that there is a freak inside of him, inside of all of us. true empathy is not only non-judgmental, it is also non-exploitative.
Posted by: tennischick | January 21, 2008 7:09 PM