The Proust effect is the effect that smells have on memory; appraently the writer Marcel Proust's works including "In Search of Lost Time" theorized that smells can help people access their childhood memories. I agree on a certain level; certainly the first things people think of when accessing memories is a visual memory of seeing someone's face, or a particular color, or seeing an event take place, but smell definitely plays a big part when I go back to childhood places like going into a school, my parents' closet with the same smell of old clothes, the aroma of dumplings and other Chinese goodies being cooked. Sometimes I crave the smell of chocolate that permeated downtown Chicago when I worked there oh so many years ago now because there was a chocolate factory nearby; everytime I drive down to Camarillo and pass the fertilized fields the familar smell of manure and whatever else is in the fertilizer reminds me that I'm back in Camarillo (It's not all bad; I do like the green grass, abundant flowers, and fresh air smells of Camarillo as opposed to the smog and urban city of L.A.). Not to be hentai (perverted) but I also like the smell of new books, and often crack open a new book partly for the scent.
However, I think at least for me sounds are more memorable than any other non-vision senses; probably has to do with my good sense of hearing. Even with earwax constantly stuck in my ears most of my life, I hear pretty well; my mom used to marvel that I could hear her conversation with my dad despite being several rooms away and upstairs. (Chinese people call it having "sharp ears.") I don't actively think about it when I go back somewhere I've been before, but I do get a jolt of recognition of familiarity every time I start heading towards a dodgeball gym and hear the balls thudding against the wall, or turn on a baseball game and hear the dim murmur of a buzzing crowd; there are a lot of sounds I appreciate, which is probably why TV shows all employ a catch theme song at the beginning of each episode, or commercials create musical jingles to be memorable like Kit Kat Song or the State Farm ad. There's a ton of sounds from my youth I just don't hear anymore, like ring tones from a non-smart cell phone; old radio shows, the dismissal bell signaling the end of class; echoic memory is important.
Which is why America has to improve some of the sounds that its country represents. When I went to Japan, getting on the subway was a joy a.) because the trains run on time, b.) because the subway stations and cars themselves were clean and organized, c.) the people riding the subway were generally disciplined except maybe during rush hour traffic, and d.) the spectacular chime that Japanese trains lead off with before their announcement. It's a very soothing sound that is just what you need when being in a high-stress environment like a train where you're worried about your surroundings, you're surrounded by strangers, you might be late for an appointment and in a hurry to get somewhere......the little jingle just makes everything OK. Contrast that with any metro system I've ever been in the U.S., from L.A. to Chicago to NYC to DC.....not very welcome at all, just announcing the next stop and if there are any delays; and "beware of the closing doors...." I know subways are for mid-to-lower-class society people, but at least act like you actually want people to use the service (we did actually pay for it!) Without that magical chime that Japan and some other Asian countries have, the lasting impression of the American trains are just garbage, the smell of marijuana (constant on L.A. trains), the sound of train rushing by, and people talking loudly (MJ got annoyed the other day on the subway listening to a fellow passenger carry on about her personal life while the rest of the car had to listen in). Even arriving at the airport in American cities, I don't really feel welcomed, just a bunch of corporate signs and PA announcements about Flight so-and-so departing in 5 minutes or final call looking for a passenger who hadn't shown up at the gate yet, or "This is Mayor Karen Bass. Welcome to L.A." Give us some tunes! Something to welcome us to the city!
MJ and I crashed a wedding on Saturday night; not really crashed but witnessed a boathouse wedding from a public bridge that we were passing by; a perfect way to see joy and harmony as well as listening to piano music as the bridesmaids, groom, and finally bride walked down the aisle. A perfect harmony of memories ranging from visual (great sunset after a rainy morning that cleared up), smells of autumn and falling leaves in an urban park, (relatively) fresh air filling our lungs, the sounds of a wedding going on nearby reaching our ears even through the occasional gusts of wind blowing through, and of course the collective wonder and celebration of the wedding guests at the boathouse but also other uninvited guests who had stopped on the bridge to witness the occasion. An unforgettable scene.
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