• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

The control of memory. Remembering, like dreaming, seems not to be a process under volitional control of the self—we cannot bring into consciousness information that refuses to be called up. But just as with dreaming—except even more so—if one is willing to invest energy in it, memory can be greatly improved. With a little method and discipline, it is possible to build a whole set of mnemonic devices to help remember material that otherwise would be forgotten. For a recent review of how some of these methods were used in antiquity and the Renaissance, see Spence (1984).

The reference to Archytas and his thought experiments is from de Santillana (1961 [1970], p. 63).

The evolution of arithmetic and geometry. Wittfogel (1957) gives a brilliant materialist account of the development of the sciences (as well as political forms) on the basis of the prior development of irrigational techniques.

That new cultural products are developed more for the sake of enjoyment than out of necessity is argued in Csikszentmihalyi (1988). This seems to be true even in the introduction of such basic techniques as the use of metals: “In several areas of the world it has been noted, in the case of metallurgical innovation in particular, that the development of bronze and other metals as useful commodities was a much later phenomenon than their first utilization as new and attractive materials, employed in contexts of display…. In most cases early metallurgy appears to have been practiced primarily because products have novel properties that made them attractive to use as symbols and as personal adornments and ornaments, in a manner that, by focusing attention, could attract or enhance prestige” (Renfrew 1986, pp. 144, 146).

Huizinga (1939 [1970]) argued that institutions such as religion, law, government, and the armed forces originally started as play-forms, or games, and only gradually did they become rigid and serious. Similarly Max Weber (1930 [1958]) pointed out that capitalism started as an adventurous game of entrepreneurs, and only later, when its practices became rigidified in laws and conventions, did it become an “iron cage.”

For the anecdotes concerning Democritus, see de Santillana (1961 [1970], pp. 142ff.)

For an introduction to the sagas of Iceland, see Skuli Johnson’s (1930) collection.

The argument about how conversation helps maintain the symbolic universe is in Berger & Luckmann (1967).

How poetry can be taught to ghetto children and to old people in retirement homes without formal education is beautifully told by Koch (1970, 1977).

Writing and depression. At least since the Romantic era, artists of all types have been held to be “tortured” or “demonically impelled.” There is reasonably good evidence that many modern artists and writers in fact show a variety of depressive and obsessive symptoms (see, e.g., Alvarez 1973, Berman 1988, Csikszentmihalyi 1988, and Matson 1980). Recently much has been written also about the relationship of manic depression and literary creativity (Andreasen 1987, Richards et al. 1988). It is very likely, however, that this relationship between psychic entropy and artistic creativity is the result of specific cultural expectations, and of the awkward structure of the artistic role, rather than anything necessarily inherent in art or in creativity. In other words, if to survive as an artist in a given social environment a person has to put up with insecurity, neglect, ridicule, and a lack of commonly shared expressive symbols, he or she is likely to show the psychic effects of these adverse conditions. Vasari in 1550 was one of the first to express concern that the personality of the young Italian artists of the time, already influenced by Mannerism, a precursor of Baroque and Romantic styles, displayed a “certain element of savagery and madness” which made them appear “strange and eccentric” in a way that previous artists were not (Vasari 1550 [1959], p. 232). In earlier periods, such as the thousands of years of Egyptian civilization,