can we translate the memory?
what is the language of the memory? to answer this question, maybe we should start by hinting at what exactly is the memory. it might be a "collective" memory, the history of a nation, for example. it might also be an individual memory, the images of our very own past that we keep inside of us - sometimes on the surface of our conscient mind, sometimes too out of reach even for ourselves. and what about its language? is it a common, universal language? or do each memory of each individual has a code of its own, a language of its own, understandable only by its owners and perhaps not all the time?
and could we translate it, the memory? sometimes people write their memories. a diary, a journal, can be considered a transcript of its writer's memory. but is it true to the original source, or merely an interpretation? when we read a journal - our own journal, if you want -, are we reading what happened exactly, or our own view of those events? so maybe the memory is intelligible, in the philosophical meaning of the word: it can only be perceived and read by our mind.
no matter. all this philosophical yada yada is meant only to congratulate alice for the first year of her blog, a tradução da memória. congratulations!
1 Comments:
you're being so lovely to me, im going to tell you a secret. the reason why i call it the translation of the memory is because ive got a very special person on my life, a pretty girl, she’s disabled, when she was born, the nurse mistreated her, her head bent down somewhere, her brain was seriously damaged, never learned to read or write, not even her own name, but all the time she’s sitting at her desk with a pen or a pencil putting her feelings to the paper. no doctor knows what her symbols and drawings means. she keeps sending “letters” to her loved ones and no one understands what she “writes”. she’s my sister. i believe it’s her memory and try hard to translate it. never told this anyone. that's what this post meant to me :)
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