On the Idea of Neural Networks

Have you ever stopped to think about your existence. To think about your conscious mind and the fact that it exists when it more easily could have not. Each of us is here by chance. We were the lucky egg. And what does it mean to even have a conscience? This is the question that troubles both scientists and psychologists today. It revolves around the idea of cognitive science. But what even is cognitive science? One comprehensive definition is that cognitive science is the study of the mind and its interdisciplinary processes. But as we have started to notice in our class and discussions, the mind can be a confusing topic of conversation. “Handy Guide”, by Dean Young, puts an interesting twist on the idea of cognitive science, and I believe the poem successfully embodies one of the reasons the mind is so difficult to understand. This is because the world looks different to each beholder.

            In “Handy Guide” Young stresses the theme that what we see in the world is based completely on the viewer’s perspective and mind.

“My dragon may be your neurotoxin

Your electrocardiogram may be my fortune cookie.”

What does it even mean, to compare a dragon to a neurotoxin?! Dragons symbolize strength and power, and a neurotoxin is something that has the ability to infect the mind. Not only does this image outline the idea that people see the world differently, but it also plays on the idea that the mind is easily tainted. This serves to tie the idea of cognitive science to neuroscience. If the mind is truly a manifestation created by the brain, then one would think that altering that part of the brain responsible for creating the mind would indeed affect our cognitive abilities. We saw this in Jane Austen’s “Persuasion”, where damage to Louisa’s brain led to a personality shift, thus making her seem like an entirely different person. So where does the connect between the neurological part of the brain start? This is a questions that has puzzled researchers for decades, and solving this mystery would bridge the gap needed to make advances in terms of understanding of cognitive science, theory of mind, and development of AI.

            Furthermore, my favorite line from the poem is, “The minor adjustments in our equations/ still indicate the universe is insane.” The idea that the universe can even be “insane” suggests that it has a mind. Whoa. There’s a thought. Can the universe think? Or does this, perhaps, suggest that there is a universal train of thought? I’m not suggesting that people all think the same. In fact, if anything, Young shows us how individual differences cause us all to see the world in our own unique way. But there are some things that are indeed universal. People believe that they are mortal. People believe that the Earth is real, and that they are not the only person here. There are universal, seemingly natural, thoughts that we all share. But what does this mean for cognitive science? It seems to suggest that maybe there is a possible model for the mind that can be created. While we are not there yet, several advances have been made in this area in recent years.  

            One of these models involves the idea of neural networks. Neural networks are thought to essentially “map” human thought. Here is an example of a connectionist model, which is a theory about how human thoughts may be mapped in the brain: http://itee.uq.edu.au/~cogs2010/cmc/home.html. Specific pieces of information have connections in the brain, which overlap and connect to other pieces of information. The idea is that this would basically create a giant web of thoughts, which our mind can navigate in the blink of an eye when retrieving information.

            But what becomes complicated is when these networks are not the same for everyone. One person may connect the idea of skydiving with joy, while another connects it with the death of a family member – “My dragon may be your neurotoxin.” This relationship could lead to different mappings. Brain plasticity may allow for changes in neural maps as well. This makes it extremely difficult to come up with models that work for all human cognition, which leaves much room for discussion and exploration.

What Came First, Emotion or the Mind?

Emotion is universal. You can travel to any inhabited land across the world and find that people all experience sadness, happiness, anger, jealousy, love, etc., regardless of their culture, education, or social status. In fact, emotion is often one of the easiest ways to connect with another individual. But what creates emotion? According to Damasio in “Of Appetites and Emotion”, we like to think that “the hidden is the source of the expressed” (P. 29). The term hidden refers to feelings. Damasio claims, in his article, that feelings are the source of emotion. My favorite statement by Damasio is “Emotions play out in the theater of the body. Feelings play out in the theater of the mind” (p. 28). This statement puts the ideas of feelings and emotions into perspective and the visual brain. First of all, it seems very logical that feelings are more internal and emotions are more external. Feelings seem much more like thoughts than emotions do, and they are therefore much easier to keep hidden, within the theater of the mind. Emotions, on the other hand, have the connotation of making themselves known much more easily and being much more difficult to hide. This is where the phrase “wearing your emotions on your sleeve” came from. However, which came first, feelings or emotions? Most people think of them as being connected, but does this mean that they are the same thing? Well, this can’t be true; we have established that feelings are more internal and emotions are more external. Damasio argues, in his article, that emotions came before feelings. The reason he gives for this is evolution. This seems to touch also on theory of mind. If emotion came first and feelings second, then this seems to suggest to the brain came before the mind, and the mind developed later. But wait…haven’t we discussed that the mind is part of the brain? If it developed later, then where were our thoughts before the mind? Did we still have them?

            In relation to the article by Damasio discussing the ideas of feeling and emotion, the primary article of this week that included three poems also revolved around the topics of feeling and emotion. The first one, “Want me”, by Melissa Stein encompasses the idea of desire. Desire is a much easier feeling to feel than it is an emotion to express. This is seen even in the poem itself. Stein uses jumbled diction, and each idea seems unfinished, thrown together almost as if a running stream of thoughts. For example, the line “A duet for cello

and woodsmoke, violin and icicle” seems extremely jumbled. In fact, it seems as if it should read ‘A duet for cello and violin, woodsmoke and icicle.” This mixing of ideas creates not only a confused feeling, but it also helps express the idea of desire. Desire, as an emotion and a feeling, it often thought to be overwhelming and overpowering. The jumbling of words seems to almost suggest that the desire itself is overpowering the writer’s ability to keep words straight. This again stresses the idea that desire itself is more a thought-based feeling, rather than an expressed emotion.

            In the second poem, “Dreamsong”, by John Berryman, the author expresses the idea of boredom. In this case, boredom serves to be more of a lack of emotion and feeling than anything else. The author uses extreme sarcasm and several examples of instances in which he believes other people generally find amusement, in which he does not. He even mentions his mother speaking of boredom, telling his as a boy that “Ever to confess you're bored means you have no Inner Resources.” The author’s mother seems to be referring to feelings with the term “Inner Resources”. The author, admitting to being bored, also admits that he is lacking these inner thoughts, or feelings. Therefore, since emotion and feeling are attached, it can be concluded that he lacks both. He stresses this idea at the end of the poem when speaking of a dog, which is generally a happy or joyful experience for most people. He speaks of the dog leaving, stating it “has taken itself & its tail considerably away into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving behind: me, wag.” The term “wag” seems to poke fun at the dog for its happiness, and by pairing this word along with the reference to himself, he stresses even more the fact that he lacks this happiness or joy, and thus emotion.

            These two poems address a few of the many feelings and emotions that are known to mankind. In fact, some would say that these are limitless. It is interesting to think about these feelings and emotions, especially with the idea of the mind at hand. How do things such as boredom and desire originate, and where does the mind play a role in comparison to the body and brain. This, I think, is a very intriguing idea, especially when it comes to theory of mind. It touches on one of the most difficult challenges that exists in science currently with fully understanding the mind, and that is the idea of emotion and feeling, which have yet to be completely understood. Doing so would allow us to make further advances not only with things such as Artificial Intelligence and brain modeling, but also with understanding why people’s mind are so different from one another.

Bookworms: Nerds or Social Butterflies?

            As an active reader, I am fully aware of the stereotypes that are generally associated with people who read for fun. In general, people tend to picture people like me as quiet, timid hermits who would rather sit in a room alone buried in countless boring pages rather than enjoy the real world and the people in it. However, those who share my enjoyment for reading understand that reading is much more than a pass-time; it allows to you explore another world. However, what few tend to consider when judging those who read is the fact that, in general, most reader’s book of choice is not a textbook. I personally have found few non-fiction books that I enjoy reading with the same vigor as I do a fictional story involving dragons and princesses. While I do not doubt there are a select few who choose history books over Harry Potter, I can safely say that this is not true of me. But what does this tell us about all the bookworms then? In fact, research has been done within the past few years that actually shows that readers of fiction actually tend to have high social abilities.

This week I opted to read the paper, “Bookworms versus nerds: Exposure to fiction

versus non-fiction, divergent associations with social ability, and the simulation of fictional

social worlds”, by Mar et al. (2005). I found this study to not only be very intuitive and easy to relate to, but also strikingly similar to several observations that I have made regarding “Persuasion” by Jane Austen. Not only does it pinpoint several things that have been mentioned in class discussion, but it also can be related to the concluding events of the book as well. In my blog this week I plan to explore the results and implications of this study as well as the implications that can be made about “Persuasion”.

            In “Bookworms versus nerds”, Mar et al. (2005) examine the correlation between social abilities and readers of fiction compared to non-fiction. In order to do this, participants completed a series of surveys, where they were asked to indicate from a list which authors they had heard of before. They were strongly discouraged from guessing, and were told that there were some people listed who were not, in fact, authors. It was accepted that exposure to authors generally accompanies activities that relate to the act of reading itself, so this was taken to be a reliable measure. Results found that familiarity with fiction authors was correlated with social ability, which familiarity with non-fiction authors showed no correlation. “Thus, frequent readers of narrative fiction, individuals who could be considered ‘bookworms,’ may bolster or

maintain social-processing skills whilst reading stories, although they are removed

from actual social contact during this activity” (Mar et al, 2005). Unlike the usual stereotype, it turns out that book worms are not socially inept after all. However, what does this mean about the fictional stories found in books? Does this mean that experience with social situations found in fictional tales better prepare readers to deal with real-life social situations? In “Persuasion”, there are countless instances that could very well be considered support for this exact idea.

            First of all, several of the events from the first half of the book arguably deal with very stressful situations that many readers can surely relate to. The main character, Anne, faces oppression from both society based on her financial situation as well as family manipulation that ultimately leads her to breaking off engagement with her lover. These conflicts are easily to relate to, making “Persuasion” and extremely relatable book for readers. Mar and colleagues would surely argue that situations such as these are high stress, and by reading about the mistakes and accomplishments of characters in fictional tales, readers may very well be better prepared to face their own social dilemmas in the real world. Reading is an experience, and every experience is a chance to learn. Therefore, it is very possible that  by experiencing Anne’s hardships with her through reading, the audience learns more about different social situations, thus increasing their social ability.

            Furthermore, as the book proceeds, Anne’s situation becomes very real for readers. She experiences one of the most relatable social situations for readers: falling in love. Love is a natural and evolutionary human emotion. The fact that “Persuasion” introduces such a realistic social situation (especially for the social expectations of the time when Jane Austen wrote the book) makes it incredibly powerful in the eyes of the reader, and it seems to be a logical argument that this exposure to this type of situation would, in fact, influence the reader’s perception of social situations.

Paper Outline (Version 1)

Hey guys,

So as you may have seen in my email, I have been pretty sick. This outline is from my original draft. I am skyping with Dr. Phillips in the morning regarding my paper, and plan to post another outline sometime tomorrow when I hopefully feel better and have a chance to work on my paper more. If you read this and want to make comments, feel free, but I won't be offended if you don't (especially since this is super late). Thanks all, and drink your Vitamin C!!!

1. Title: The Maze of the Mind
2. Introduction: What a mind-spinning task it is, to think about the brain. The brain, believed by most to be connected to our mind, controls every aspect of human function, including our mental processes. Yet, when one thinks about thinking, it does not seem like a detailed or calculated function of human survival; thinking is freedom. Many would argue that thinking knows no bounds. If this is accepted as true, then it can be concluded that thinking about the brain, and thus the mind, can be done in a limitless number of ways. But even more mind-spinning than the concept of thinking, is how we are able to convert these thoughts into words. Thoughts do not occur as if there is a typewriter in the brain, with words that can be spoken or written on command. The person doing the thinking must decide which symbols to use to create the words that will best convey the precise ideas that are being calculated and manipulated by the mind. This is the beauty of written language. It is an admirable feat to create writing that is both engaging and thought-provoking. Combining these two facets, the idea of thinking about the brain and the idea of transferring thoughts from mind to paper, is no easy task. The brain has yet to be fully understood by humans, and the mystery of the brain will arguably never be completely solved. For this reason, perspectives on the brain and its existence as a whole are sure to vary and even clash for the rest of time. This is what makes it fascinating to look at literature from earlier times regarding the brain and the mind. Many literary artists have attempted this difficult task over the years, and one of the most interesting places to look at this feat is poetry. Like the mind, poetry is free. Two poets, in particular, captured this idea remarkably well. John Keats and Margaret Cavendish both display eloquent use of language and creative manipulation of words to convey precisely what they perceived the brain to be, and how it functions. By using poetry as a vice, these two authors successfully conveyed to the audience not only their thoughts on the mind, but also the very idea that the mind is a free body of thought, unable to be contained by the physicality of the human body.
3.

Margaret Cavendish’s view of the brain differed tremendously from other people studying science during her time.

Knowledge of the brain during this time was quite trivial. In fact, the mind was a relatively new concept during the 15^th century.

Cavendish drives her point home with the wittiness of her persona throughout the poem.

Through both the comparison of the brain to the ‘squaring a circle’ quandary and the use of clever diction to poke fun at scientists of the time, Margaret Cavendish successfully portrays the image of the brain as a circular mystery.

John Keats poem has quite a different message from that of Cavendish. In “When I have fears that I may cease to be”, Keats conveys the idea that thinking about the mind is a terrifying endeavor.

Keats discusses the idea of the mind being limitless, and his fear seems to stem from the idea that he will run out of time to transfer all of his thoughts from his brain to paper before he dies.

Keats becomes reflective as he discusses the idea of emotion.

Keats ends “When I have fears that I may cease to be” with inarguably one of the greatest fears for mankind: losing your mind.

Much different from Cavendish, Keats followed the traditional Shakespearean sonnet form.

4. Conclusion: The two authors would surely agree that the mind is an unsolvable mystery. More importantly, Cavendish and Keats address two facets of the human mind that amazingly were regarded as valid centuries ago as well as in present day. Cavendish, in revolutionary insight for her time, remarks on the fact that the mind is a mysterious manifestation that should and will remain so, and Keats expresses the fear that results from this very fact. Together the poems of these two authors encompass the undefined and the unknown that is the mind. Through clever diction, vivid imagery, wittiness from Cavendish, and emotional connection to the audience from Keats, the combined efforts of these poets demonstrates the freeness and unbound nature of mind and thought and, most significantly, the fact that it will forever remain this way.

A Dreaming Sensation

            Dreams are one of the most fascinating and extraordinary experiences know to man. Regardless of how many people may claim to be able to read dreams, or people who claim that their dreams make the psychic, dreams have remained a complete mystery, despite research in the field. Advancements have been made using sleep studies, which can predict when a person is dreaming while it is happening relatively well. We know that dreaming occurs during REM sleep, and that the majority of dreaming occurs in early morning, right toward the end of a person’s sleeping. However, we still have yet to understand much about what the content of dreams actually mean. This is what makes it extremely interesting that people can, when asked, generally give a fairly detailed account of many dreams that they have (at least the ones they remember). Even more intriguing is the fact that these details often involve a lot of sensory and emotional information. Yet when you observe someone who is sleeping, there is no physical sign of what they may be dreaming, if they are dreaming at all. This is what makes it so extraordinary that we can experience such strong sensory events through dreams, without actually experiencing any of these things physically with our bodies. And, considering the majority of the population can recall dreaming at one point or another, it is no surprise that science and literature alike have examined this phenomenon for years.

            In Darwin’s Zoonomia, he discusses several of the characteristics of the experience of dreaming that make it truly exceptional. One that I found particularly intriguing was the idea of mental imagery in dreaming affecting the way our eyes adjust to light after we open our eyes. Darwin gives a very interesting example, where he tells the reader to close their eyes and play through their favorite tune or song in their head, and then open their eyes. He describes the very familiar experience of our iris adjusting to the light. Even though it only takes about one second, most people have experienced this sensation and can relate. In a second task, Darwin instructs readers to close their eyes and think about a #D object, namely a white cube, and as you examine the sides with your mind, he talks about having the shape change colors from red, to blue, to green. Surprisingly, when you open your eyes, your iris takes no noticeable amount of time to adjust to the light. I actually tried this myself and was amazed. More importantly, this really got my mind spinning about the idea of sensation and the mind. It would seem that sensation does not 100% rely on sensory input from the outside world. According to Darwin, “it has been shewn, that those motions, which are perpetually excited, as those of the arterial system by the stimulus of the blood, are attended by a great accumulation of sensorial power” (p. 2). We are able to change what we see simply by using the power of our minds and controlling what we focus our attention on mentally! This has extreme implications for writing.

            If one can stimulate sensation simply by focusing attention on a particular thought, this would fuel the idea that one could cause readers to sense something while reading without having them actually see or experience anything. Now, I know this does not seem like a novel idea; after all, writers of the 18^th century were figuring this out, and were beginning to gear their writing toward this idea. However, the specific idea that such sensations can be felt through dreams is still remarkable. Now I realize there are people who claim to have never had a dream before (what a shame). But I believe that taking in to consideration the powerful effect that dreaming can have on the senses could be very useful for a writer, especially in such a case as, for example, for Brown when he wrote Edgar Huntly. Having this knowledge could potentially allow Brown to convey even more through his tale of sleepwalking. If the reader puts themselves in the shoes of the sleepwalker, they may even be able to experience the harshness of fear that can occur when one wakes up from a dream-like experience such as sleepwalking. This could allow a writer to convey even more about what a character is experiencing and, more importantly, could allow readers to put themselves into the dreams of the character.

            One experience that even those who claim to never have experienced a dream while sleeping can relate to is mind wandering, or daydreaming. This can occur at any point from when you’re watching a movie, to when you’re sitting in class, to when you’re at work. It is a mental escape. My first thoughts on mind wandering are that, from what we have read from Darwin about sensations felt when sleeping through dreaming, it could be possible that the attractiveness of the idea of mind wandering to the human consciousness is the fact that it can be stimulating to the senses. In fact, I have even found myself daydreaming just for the simple need to experience some emotion. When in class, daydreaming about the birthday party you are going to attend later could cause happiness. Daydreaming about your significant other could cause elation. Daydreaming could even relieve stress, by letting you take a moment aside to think about all of the things you need to do, and the things you have already accomplished, on your do-to list. I personally find daydreaming to be extremely helpful in this sense, and according to Schooler and Smallwood in “The Restless Mind”, mind wandering can serve this exact purpose. They claim that “mind wandering is a situation in which executive control shifts away from a primary

task to the processing of personal goals” (p. 946). Essentially, the paper discusses mind wandering as a means of problem solving. This is an excellent tool to not only use  as a writer, but to also be aware of as a reader. Mind wandering as an event in a piece of literature can creatively convey the thoughts of a character without explicitly saying “he thought” or “she thinks”. This not only gives the reader more information about the story, but it allows them to put themselves in the character’s shoes. This can come in as an essential vice, and it is important to be able to recognize this type of situation. As an analytical reader, we can look at characters such as Edgar Huntly, who tends to let him mind wander a lot, and examine him both from the outside in terms of the plotline, and the inside in terms of what he reveals about his thoughts.

            Dreaming and Reverie are incredibly useful in literature. These experiences have proven thus far to be, and are most likely destined to forevermore be, experiences of sheer mystery and fascination. Because of this, they will always be an intriguing vice to both write about and read about. The sensory information that  is miraculously conveyed through these experiences make dreaming and reverie the perfect tools for engaging the reader. 

Aer You Srue Yuo're Raeidng Tihs?

Language is one of the most necessary possessions of mankind. Where would we be if we could not communicate with each other? First thought that comes to mind is the biblical story of the Tower of Babel. Mankind was thriving and was drifting from virtue, so God created several languages, and no one could understand each other. Not only did they stop building their “stairway to heaven”, but they scattered all over the world, unable to continue to work together and driven crazy from frustration. Language is a powerful tool; without it, I wouldn’t be writing this blog post.

            In reading Practical Education, “Of Tasks”, I was very bothered by the author’s criticism of the way we learn language. I too find it fascinating that we are able to learn such a complex form of communication, especially when doing so relies on beginning at such an early age as a child. However, the miracle of it is diminished when you simply look around: we can all do it. Yes, there are rare cases of people who cannot learn to read, or people who simply are never exposed to reading. It is clearly not as innate as speech, but definitely is related. There are many words I know only because I was taught them at one point or another, but would never have learned had someone not taken the time to explain the meaning to me. People with a greater vocabulary generally tend to be bigger readers, in my experience.

            I should probably clarify and say that I find language absolutely fascinating. I am not opposed at all to learning more about the way we learn languages. In fact, I think it’s amazing to look deeper in to this topic, especially at brain functions involved in learning to read. However, would I go as far to say that the way we teach children language is “dreadful”, as is proclaimed by Edgeworth? Of course not. Now I suppose I can’t speak from experience; I have never helped a child learn to read. However, I do know that all of these additional symbols suggested by Edgeworth to help children learn to read have never been necessary in the past. In fact, multiple “masters of language” have become who they learning language with simply the letters in the alphabet and lots of experience. Edgeworth undoubtedly learned to read without such symbols. And what research does Edgeworth have to support this claim that additional symbols would serve as an effective teaching tool for reading? As far as I can tell, none (although I believe it would be a fascinating experiment to conduct). I believe it is safe to say that, whether you teach with these additional symbols, or the old-fashioned way, the pupil will have to maintain the same amount of knowledge in their long-term memory, whether it is multiple sounds for the same letter/symbol or multiple markings for the same letter/symbol. Personally, I prefer to marvel over the fact that children have, in general, been taught to read the same way for centuries, and somehow, despite all of the complexities that accompany language (like those pointed out by Edgeworth), we manage to become masters. Not only do we learn the words that we see and hear every day, but we have the capacity to understand words we have never seen before. We even learn to manipulate language using irony, humor, poetry, and many other tools that are truly extraordinary, considering what they are able to accomplish. From the impact of a state of the union speech, to winning the heart of a romantic interest, language has the ability to do phenomenal things. Those who master language above and beyond the level of those around them hold great power. And remembering that we all began with the letter a, is something of wonder.

            On the other hand, this insight by Edgeworth was quite prolific for a children’s novelist of the 1800s. She was able to recognize several aspects of reading 150 years ago that we are still milling over today in our understanding of how the brain works. In Reading in the Brain, “How we Read”, Dehaene discusses how there are two informational pathways for when we read. In one pathway, our eyes take in the words we see and process them, using both rules we know of writing and, more importantly, our experience with those words. Words that we are unfamiliar with are sent down the other pathway, where rules for the alphabet, pronunciation, and general meaning of groupings of letters are processed. This idea is also touched on by Edgeworth when she notes that “The sound of three or four letters together, will immediately become familiar to him; and when any of the less common sounds of the vowels, such as are contained in the second table, and the terminating sounds, tion, ly, &c. occur, they should be read to the child, and should be added to what he has got by rote from time to time” (p. 7). Edgeworth was unknowingly touching on a scientific claim that would still be supported over a century later by Dehaene. This further supports the idea that language is not only essential for survival, but one of the most timeless traits possessed by mankind. Is it innate? I am not equipped to say, although my guess is not even halfway.

            Take the case of Genie, a young girl who was locked in a room with a toilet and minimal human interaction by her parents until she was thirteen years old. She was never taught to speak, never taught to read, and by the time someone finally came to her rescue, it was too late. Genie was never able to come even close to fluently speaking. She learned to speak many words, but could not understand sentence structure, and while she seemed to be making progress for a while, she was never able to fully grasp the concept of language. Eventually she gave up on speaking entirely, and became mute. http://abcnews.go.com/Health/story?id=4804490&page=1#.Tyo3ylw7WAg

            So what exactly does it take to master language? Clearly it cannot be self-taught. However, is there truly a better way to teach your kids to read? Edgeworth would argue so. Yet child development studies have also shown that devices such as “Baby Einstein” have no significant effect on when a child learns such things as language. So the next question seems to be, to what extent is a child’s ability to learn language innate? Hereditary? Nurtured? Edgeworth also hints at the idea that many children are “turned off” from the idea of reading based on the way it is presented to them. Is this true, or do some kids simply not like reading? I personally love to read, and always have. My parents never forced me to read; I did so because I wanted to. I began reading Lord of the Rings in 3^rd grade, and haven’t been able to put books down for as long as I can remember. My brother, on the other hand, has never been much of a reader. He went to all the same schools as me, and received the same parenting, yet hasn’t even read Harry Potter (I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with the kid…). My opinion is that a good chunk of reading ability comes simply from personality and general individuality. Some kids like it, and some don’t. Now there’s an interesting study for you: Do kids who claim to enjoy reading display more brain activation when reading than those who do not enjoy it as much? fMRI anyone?

If You Give Proust a Cookie...

In this blog post I am going to attempt to delve into the life of Marcel Proust. I found the story of The Cookie from “Remembrance of Things Past” to be not just engaging, but intriguing from a literary standpoint. I found it easy to tell that Proust was talking more than about the memory of the “petite madeleines”, which he slowly recalls throughout the section. The most obvious message is that the cookie itself rekindled a sense of joy in Proust. It is clear that when Proust initially sits down at the table, he is in a sour mood. He begins the section stating that “many years had elapsed during which nothing of Combray…had any existence for me.” To say that he feels like the place in which he resides hardly is even real, scream disconnection and unhappiness, perhaps even depression. Then, upon eating the medaleine that his mother gave him, his mood is vastly changed. He compares the experience to the “effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence.” Love is inarguably one of the most powerful emotions and experiences in both the real world and the literary world, so to make such a comparison in regards to eating a cookie with some tea, must have a stronger meaning than simply that he was happy. No, Proust is telling us something more here. I have an idea of what it is, but let’s delve further first.

            As he attempts to discover what exactly the sensation is that he had just experienced, Proust takes a second and then a third drink of his tea and states “the potion is losing its magic.” This reference to what is no doubt a love potion, suggests that perhaps there is something going on with Proust that is greater than disconnection. Love is a powerful force, and the word “magic” itself implies that it is a hard force to combat. The fact that it is dwindling suggests that whatever Proust’s internal battle is, it is one of great magnitude. And, within the next few lines, Proust even states that “the truth I am seeking lies not in the cup by in myself.” He is aware of this internal struggle, which makes it all the worse. Denial is commonly the hardest thing to overcome when one suffers from feelings of depression, and being aware of the depression can have a self-inducing effect. This is, in fact, supported by many of the things Proust says about himself throughout the novel.

            I’d like to take a moment to step aside and address the paper by Jonah Lerer, “Proust: The Method of Memory”, which analyzes many literary aspects of Proust’s writing, including specifically that of “Remembrance of Things Past.” It is clear that Lerer sees Proust as a little self-involved and, for lack of better words, stuck-up. He makes the comment that “the cookie is merely a convenient excuse for Proust to explore his favorite subject: himself” (p. 79). Lerer’s critical attitude toward this aspect of Proust’s writing is clear, and supported later by his sarcastic comment, “luckily for literature, Proust decided to put the cookie in his mouth” (p.81). Albeit his slightly cynical attitude, Lerer also admits that Proust was on to something. At first it does indeed seem like Proust is simply going on and on about how delicious this tea is…or at least he thinks it was the tea. Toward the end of the story Proust realizes that this equal-to-the-essence-of-love experience was actually evoked by the cookie. This can be guessed by the reader before Proust reaches this realization, from the title of the section, The Cookie. The point is, he seems so in to this tasty experience that the story seems to serve no purpose really, to the casual reader. Why does Proust focus so much of his attention on this cookie? He even admits that his mind was “tiring itself without any success to report”, and over a simple cookie! No, there must be more to the story. And, in fact, there is. Lerer points out that during the same year of the Madeleine, 1911, “psychologists had no idea how the senses connected inside the skull” (p. 79-80). But Proust, a boy who grew up in a rich family as a shy and sheepish boy, who was eventually forced to stay in his room for days due to the extremity of his asthma, had stumbled upon a notable neuroscience breakthrough! He had found the connection between the senses of smell and taste and a person’s memory. In fact, the area of the brain in charge of these things has been found, in more recent years, to be connected. You may have had a similar sensory experience in your life. I personally cannot each pot pies anymore, because when I was very little I had one right before getting the flu and, well, we all know what happens when you get a bad case of the flu. Proust was a neurological genius! However, let’s not celebrate too quickly. Proust’s achievement was much greater than I am sure he realized. But there is more to discuss than his extraordinary revelations about the mind and memory. I am still curious about Proust’s background and what else may be going on, so let’s find our way back to the previous story.

            Anyway, so Proust was clearly in a sour mood, and it seems like this wasn’t just a “bad day” or even a “bad week”. There was definitely an emotional battle going on within. Proust makes references to a darkness within himself, mentioning things such as the fact that the memory was “palpitating in the depths of my being”, or that it had “sunk back into its darkness”. He even makes the comment that he must “lean down over the abyss.” These comments are very disturbing because it is very evident that Proust is very aware of his problem, and up until now, has done nothing to remedy it. What a sad, dismal life to lead.

            After a little bit of research, I discovered something very interesting. Proust’s parents passed away within two years of each other. His father passed in 1903, followed by his mother two years later. This actually ended up sending him to a sanatorium, where he resided for two months. Then, a few years later, “A Remembrance of Things Past” was published. If you recall, the cookie that Proust was so stimulated by was given to him by his mother. He is clearly portraying her as not only loving, but also the source essentially of his happiness, and love. Furthermore, when he finally is able to retrieve the long-lost memory of the Madeleine, he remembers that it came from his Aunt Leonie, whom he used to visit every Sunday morning. It is implied that he had a somewhat significant relationship with this family member. His comment soon after retrieving the memory states that “when from a long-distant path nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell along…remain poised a long time.” Proust is remembering more than the fact that his aunt used to give him cookies when he was younger. This memory is representative for him of the familial love he has lost in the past. From the sounds of things, Proust at this point is a very lonely human being, speaking of himself as being filled with darkness and depth. And yet, he is writing it all down. He is disguising it, but I believe he was actually coming to terms with many of the losses he has had to experience, in this way.

What seemed to be a sad, unresolved story, may not actually be so. It is hard to tell. Proust is not a man of many joys, that is for certain. However, in The Cookie I believe that he was expressing how he was finally able to come to terms with what he had lost: through the memory of a sweet treat. Memories are curious in that way, often connected to the littlest, most insignificant of things. And what a feat it is, to portray this through a simple memory of tea and a cookie. Yet, that is why we write, isn’t it? To tell stories. And to tell them the way we want to tell them. I may not be right in all of this. But that’s the fun of the game.