Memory

 First Published in Column 8, 2^nd October, 1991

Every so often I have a burst of enthusiasm about improving my memory.

Especially when someone named Andrew walks into my shop, someone I know reasonably well, and I call him Grahame.

To sidetrack for a moment. There must be something mystical about the name Grahame. When I worked at the DCC a few years ago, two staff members confidently called me Grahame at every meeting. Do I look like a Grahame? Perhaps. I have the sort of face that prevents me being called by my right name, since two other acquaintances call me David.

Enough of other people’s problems with memory, and back to my own.

I’ve several times got enthusiastic about those books that teach you how to remember peoples’ names by associating their faces with something absurd. I once read a Reader’s Digest which had condensed a whole book about memorisation into a three-page article. This snippet inspired me, though on inquiring at the library for a copy of the book, I was surprised to discover that some former borrower had ‘forgotten’ to bring it back.

Not to worry, there were plenty of other books available on the subject. Most agree that the basis for remembering people’s names is, as I said, to link a feature of their face with something absurd.

This is all very well. The difficulty is trying to manage this in the company of someone new. Conversing with a stranger is often difficult enough without simultaneously performing the mental juggling act of trying to find some oddity about their face.

Suppose you meet a Mrs Burton. You may note that her furrowed brow resembles Richard Burton in his later days. This may connect up in your brain cells to Welsh mountains or coalminer’s lanterned hats or How Green Was My Valley.

While you’re doing all this thinking, Mrs Burton is likely to suspect you’re either a rather distant conversationalist who hasn’t quite got it altogether – or that perhaps you’re on medication.

And six weeks later you may wonder why she looks started when you greet her as Mrs Green – or even Mrs Taylor.

Suppose when you meet Mr Brown he hasn’t a single outstanding feature about him? What will he think when you worriedly scan his features while failing to answer his questions? Or Mrs Schweigenhauser, whose name is not even re-pronounceable and produces a mental blank.

When you meet someone briefly at a gathering it can be well nigh impossible, unless you have the quick wit of a Goon Show scriptwriter, to pinpoint some feature quickly enough to help you out.

You know how it is: the host introduces you to someone, throws in a word or two about them, and then drags you off to meet someone else. Or else you’re introduced to a roomful of faces and the host says, ‘I’ll tell you all these people’s names.’ Then he helpfully adds, ‘Though you’ll forget them all, anyway.’

That’s really encouraging. Since people often don’t even introduce others by their first and last names any more, how do you hang hooks on to a succession of Georges, Bills and Freds, or even Angelas, Mays and Marys?

I know the system works, but my brain doesn’t seem fast enough to make it work when I need it. I know it works on memorising other things, because I’ve used it successfully. (I think I’ve used it successful...?)

Perhaps I’ll have to concentrate on the technique that was tried out on me recently. We met a new couple at church and the husband threw my name into every phrase he spoke.

However, I hope he’s better at this game than I am, and next time we meet he doesn’t say, ‘Hello, Grahame.’

 

Courtesy Predatorix

In recent years I’ve abandoned this involved technique and have spent a moment or two jotting down a new name in a specific list on my phone, with some short note about them. Sometimes I tell them what I’m doing. If I missed remembering the name straight off, I just ask them again. What’s the problem? They often fail to catch my name either, but at least one of us is trying to ensure that the next time we meet, their name is intact. And for the most part it works. And people respond well when they’re addressed by name. So many of us don’t bother once the initial meeting is over.