To dream is to coordinate the objects we viewed while awake and to weave a story, or a series of stories, out of them. We see the image of a sphinx and the image of a drugstore, and then we invent a drugstore that is changed into a sphinx.
—Jorge Luis Borges, Other inquisitions 1937–1952 (Reference Borges and Sims1964b, p. 21)
A king's mouth gapes monstrously wide as he prepares to bite off another man's head, despite remonstrations from a scholarly winged onlooker. In an otherwise-deserted courtyard, beside a blazing hearth, a Roman legionary raises his sword against a giant egg. Another scholar points over-sized compasses towards a geometrical figure inscribed on an external wall where the plaster is crumbling from the brickwork. Despite the grotesquerie, these images are neither dreams nor Surrealist collages, coming instead from the Baroque alchemy tradition (Klossowski de Rola Reference Klossowski de Rola1997). No resource of engraving has been spared to lend each scene an illusory realism and bolster it with circumstantial detail of stage set and costume. Schematic outlines would convey the same concepts but would not imprint the reader's psyche.
Alchemy illustrations were not mnemonic per se but represented an elaboration or repurposing of the ancient art of memory (AAOM). They exemplify a proto-scientific conviction that the hidden rules governing the operations of the universe are knowable, and to understand and internalise these rules is to control them. To Hermetic/Cabalistic thinkers such as Bruno and Camillo, the AAOM provided precisely the tools they sought for internalising the principles they had discerned (Yates Reference Yates1966). Thus the techniques for translating information into memorable imagery flourished through the 1600s.
One manifestation of this conviction was the humanist enthusiasm for Egyptian hieroglyphs (Iverson Reference Iverson1993). We meet them, for instance, filtered through the AAOM, in the dream-narrative Hypnerotomachia Poliphilia (Colonna Reference Colonna and Godwin1499/2005). The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo acquired oneiric illustrations in which disembodied eyeballs and hands drift like hot-air balloons above Northern Renaissance landscapes (Anon. 1543/1551/1993). Unconstrained by mundane translations, scholars could regard hieroglyphs as a cosmic source code, with esoteric symbols that mirror the key constructs of reality.
Alchemical diagrams were part of a broader “emblemata” tradition of imprinting the mind with moral precepts allegorised into memorable pictorial terms. The results have been compared to “flashcards for the insane.” The intention, broadly didactic, became explicitly mnemonic in the Ars Memoranda and Rationarium Evangelistarum (Anon. ca. Reference Carruthers and Ziolkowski1470/2002). Here the Evangelistic gospels were compressed into 15 images with details designed to evoke episodes from the narrative. A flying lion, an awl piercing its leg, might juggle hieroglyphs and brandish a small donkey while a goat bursts, Alien-style, from its chest.
The classical AAOM emphasises the structuring of knowledge into manageable bundles. Each “bundle” is encoded as a striking tableau in which memorable characters engage in activities or display attributes that simultaneously store the information and enhance the heraldic vividness of the scene. Llewellyn proposes that the parallels with the imagery encountered in dream are the product of convergent evolution rather than coincidence. In dream, to ensure wide linkage and avoid new memories from merging with older ones, the hyper-associative “indexing” process avoids the most obvious associations while it weaves links between recent experience and earlier memories. In the AAOM, incongruities and bizarrerie are a strategy for memorability. The difference is that dream incongruities are seldom apparent at the time. The juxtapositions and indeterminacy may be not just impossible but unrepresentable – purely verbal combinations that cannot translate into visual terms – yet we blithely accept them. House and bridge co-exist as in quantum mechanics. Bats eat cats as easily as the converse; ants conjoin with elephants (Colonna Reference Colonna and Godwin1499/2005). Dreams may bring the conviction that we are experiencing visual percepts, but instead they seem to be a spread of activation across neural networks through which abstract, ungrounded symbols interact.
A second key element of the AAOM is the Method of Loci. Each tableau is associated with one specific location along a familiar route – one niche within a cathedral, perhaps, internalised by repeated visits – both distinguishing the tableaux and enumerating them so that bundles can be recalled without omissions. Retrieval becomes a kinaesthetic metaphor of mentally retracing the route through embodied experience. This mental/architectural filing system has parallels with the collective external memory of information technology, instantiated as the cyberspace of science fiction. It is not surprising, then, that contemporary literary uses of the AAOM focus on the Method of Loci. In Watson (Reference Watson1990), the titular aliens are mnemonic adepts whose abilities reshape reality: one by one, as they commit the details of Earth's architectural highlights to memory, buildings disappear.
To provide a framework or armature for organising later material, loci must be rote-learned. Fiction often abandons this necessity as a tribute to the power of creative imagination. The Memory Palace employed by Hannibal Lecter to organise his lifetime of learning has no counterpart in the tangible world (in which “it would rival the Topkapi Palace in Istanbul for size and complexity”; Harris Reference Harris1999). The Bureaucrat's palace (Stanwick Reference Stanwick1991) is mobile, fractal, telescopic: Stanwick is using the tropes of the AAOM to describe a virtual-reality software interface and see it anew in the reflection of antiquity. One might invoke Borges (Reference Borges, Yates and Irby1964a). What are the Garden of Forking Paths, the labyrinth of Ibn Hakkan al-Bokhari, and the Library of Babel, if not Memory Palaces? The House of Asterion has 14 pools, 14 mangers, 14 courtyard loci.
Conversely, the role of the grotesque tableau has dwindled. It may be that drama, absurdity, emotional arousal, and the extremes of beauty and rank have lost their impact for a modern audience. Again, there are precedents in the Baroque AAOM. In Camillo's Memory Theatre and Bruno's mnemonic wheels, the fusions were latent rather than overt. These were attempts to systematise and personify the neo-Platonic principles of reality in an exhaustive, combinatorial generation of juxtapositions. Bruno has now attained a literary apotheosis: in one reviewer's estimate, he “probably appears in more science fiction novels than anyone else.” As for the Memory Theatre, in Fuentes (Reference Fuentes and Peden1977) it became a metaphor for culture itself.
You have
Access
To dream is to coordinate the objects we viewed while awake and to weave a story, or a series of stories, out of them. We see the image of a sphinx and the image of a drugstore, and then we invent a drugstore that is changed into a sphinx.
—Jorge Luis Borges, Other inquisitions 1937–1952 (Reference Borges and Sims1964b, p. 21)A king's mouth gapes monstrously wide as he prepares to bite off another man's head, despite remonstrations from a scholarly winged onlooker. In an otherwise-deserted courtyard, beside a blazing hearth, a Roman legionary raises his sword against a giant egg. Another scholar points over-sized compasses towards a geometrical figure inscribed on an external wall where the plaster is crumbling from the brickwork. Despite the grotesquerie, these images are neither dreams nor Surrealist collages, coming instead from the Baroque alchemy tradition (Klossowski de Rola Reference Klossowski de Rola1997). No resource of engraving has been spared to lend each scene an illusory realism and bolster it with circumstantial detail of stage set and costume. Schematic outlines would convey the same concepts but would not imprint the reader's psyche.
Alchemy illustrations were not mnemonic per se but represented an elaboration or repurposing of the ancient art of memory (AAOM). They exemplify a proto-scientific conviction that the hidden rules governing the operations of the universe are knowable, and to understand and internalise these rules is to control them. To Hermetic/Cabalistic thinkers such as Bruno and Camillo, the AAOM provided precisely the tools they sought for internalising the principles they had discerned (Yates Reference Yates1966). Thus the techniques for translating information into memorable imagery flourished through the 1600s.
One manifestation of this conviction was the humanist enthusiasm for Egyptian hieroglyphs (Iverson Reference Iverson1993). We meet them, for instance, filtered through the AAOM, in the dream-narrative Hypnerotomachia Poliphilia (Colonna Reference Colonna and Godwin1499/2005). The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo acquired oneiric illustrations in which disembodied eyeballs and hands drift like hot-air balloons above Northern Renaissance landscapes (Anon. 1543/1551/1993). Unconstrained by mundane translations, scholars could regard hieroglyphs as a cosmic source code, with esoteric symbols that mirror the key constructs of reality.
Alchemical diagrams were part of a broader “emblemata” tradition of imprinting the mind with moral precepts allegorised into memorable pictorial terms. The results have been compared to “flashcards for the insane.” The intention, broadly didactic, became explicitly mnemonic in the Ars Memoranda and Rationarium Evangelistarum (Anon. ca. Reference Carruthers and Ziolkowski1470/2002). Here the Evangelistic gospels were compressed into 15 images with details designed to evoke episodes from the narrative. A flying lion, an awl piercing its leg, might juggle hieroglyphs and brandish a small donkey while a goat bursts, Alien-style, from its chest.
The classical AAOM emphasises the structuring of knowledge into manageable bundles. Each “bundle” is encoded as a striking tableau in which memorable characters engage in activities or display attributes that simultaneously store the information and enhance the heraldic vividness of the scene. Llewellyn proposes that the parallels with the imagery encountered in dream are the product of convergent evolution rather than coincidence. In dream, to ensure wide linkage and avoid new memories from merging with older ones, the hyper-associative “indexing” process avoids the most obvious associations while it weaves links between recent experience and earlier memories. In the AAOM, incongruities and bizarrerie are a strategy for memorability. The difference is that dream incongruities are seldom apparent at the time. The juxtapositions and indeterminacy may be not just impossible but unrepresentable – purely verbal combinations that cannot translate into visual terms – yet we blithely accept them. House and bridge co-exist as in quantum mechanics. Bats eat cats as easily as the converse; ants conjoin with elephants (Colonna Reference Colonna and Godwin1499/2005). Dreams may bring the conviction that we are experiencing visual percepts, but instead they seem to be a spread of activation across neural networks through which abstract, ungrounded symbols interact.
A second key element of the AAOM is the Method of Loci. Each tableau is associated with one specific location along a familiar route – one niche within a cathedral, perhaps, internalised by repeated visits – both distinguishing the tableaux and enumerating them so that bundles can be recalled without omissions. Retrieval becomes a kinaesthetic metaphor of mentally retracing the route through embodied experience. This mental/architectural filing system has parallels with the collective external memory of information technology, instantiated as the cyberspace of science fiction. It is not surprising, then, that contemporary literary uses of the AAOM focus on the Method of Loci. In Watson (Reference Watson1990), the titular aliens are mnemonic adepts whose abilities reshape reality: one by one, as they commit the details of Earth's architectural highlights to memory, buildings disappear.
To provide a framework or armature for organising later material, loci must be rote-learned. Fiction often abandons this necessity as a tribute to the power of creative imagination. The Memory Palace employed by Hannibal Lecter to organise his lifetime of learning has no counterpart in the tangible world (in which “it would rival the Topkapi Palace in Istanbul for size and complexity”; Harris Reference Harris1999). The Bureaucrat's palace (Stanwick Reference Stanwick1991) is mobile, fractal, telescopic: Stanwick is using the tropes of the AAOM to describe a virtual-reality software interface and see it anew in the reflection of antiquity. One might invoke Borges (Reference Borges, Yates and Irby1964a). What are the Garden of Forking Paths, the labyrinth of Ibn Hakkan al-Bokhari, and the Library of Babel, if not Memory Palaces? The House of Asterion has 14 pools, 14 mangers, 14 courtyard loci.
Conversely, the role of the grotesque tableau has dwindled. It may be that drama, absurdity, emotional arousal, and the extremes of beauty and rank have lost their impact for a modern audience. Again, there are precedents in the Baroque AAOM. In Camillo's Memory Theatre and Bruno's mnemonic wheels, the fusions were latent rather than overt. These were attempts to systematise and personify the neo-Platonic principles of reality in an exhaustive, combinatorial generation of juxtapositions. Bruno has now attained a literary apotheosis: in one reviewer's estimate, he “probably appears in more science fiction novels than anyone else.” As for the Memory Theatre, in Fuentes (Reference Fuentes and Peden1977) it became a metaphor for culture itself.