I don't remember

It feels as though I have about a million blogs to write, and nowhere near the time to do so these days. My drafts folder is filled with half-started thoughts that get put to the side when cleaning, *academic* writing, and, okay, Harry Potter, get in the way. It is actually a little frustrating to have one's musings feel a bit backlogged.

This particular stream of consciousness began last night, and then became delayed for a more enjoyable reason- a fascinating, involving conversation on the topic that helped put me back into last year when I was falling for a certain fellow through coffee shop discussions that seemed to span an entire evening. I decided to take my lunch break to finish it off over some of my kick-ass potato salad.

I'm also frustrated at my seeming inability to catch up on all my fellow bloggers- I feel like I need a coffee shop date with all of you to be able to really reimmerse myself!

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As a part of our seemingly new ritual, the Duke and I have just finished watching yet another documentary film in my superb clawfoot bathtub.

Many times, new ideas are sprung from these films that have become my odd little escape from reality (yet, escape into reality...), but I often try to stifle them a little, as I find my mind getting overcome with facts and tangents, which then distract me from immersing myself in the film.

However, this most recent film has stimulated the brain cells so much that I am writing whilst wrapped in a towel.

In a recent post, I talked about my revelation, as Eve so nicely put it, that home isn't necessarily a place, and how reassuring a genuine sense of self can be. I just watched a film that made me question where that sense of self exists, and what would happen if its essence were to suddenly vanish.



Unknown White Male is a documentary film about the experiences of Doug Bruce, a 35-year old living in New York, who mysteriously and with no apparent explanation, found himself on a New York subway one day with no recollection of who he was or any aspects of his past. Although there is some debate to the veracity of his claims, this film documented his reconnection with friends and family members, and his attempts to rediscover and redefine who he is.

Perhaps most intriguing about this character study was the fact that Doug did not seem to have any desire to remember. Outside of some moments of fear and confusion while sitting in a hospital with no identity or knowledge of where home may be or what it may entail, he really engages in little deliberate reflection about what he used to be like. It's especially odd, because everyone else in the film seems to endorse the notion that they would be trying desperately to remember in such a situation, whereas he is content discovering things anew, with apparently no expectations. His sister comments early in the film that he never asked her anything about their childhood. This is what lead people to assume that he might be lying-- the seemingly forced distance between new Doug and old Doug. It is a funny thing that our society that we may not be, in a sense, really permitted to start fresh, and it is only through such a severe turn of events that someone is really allowed to start from scratch and re-create who they want to be. And, by all accounts, he is a very different person- it is even evident to the viewer through comparing the man being interviewed to brief homevideo clips.

Which leads me to thinking about to what extent one's experiences, rather than some vital essence or core, make up who one is. As people, we seem to cling onto the notion of a stable personality, a consistency that remains true no matter what situation we find ourselves in. However, Douglas Bruce went from a man completely consistent with his upper class upbringing- slightly arrogant, cynical, outgoing- to a quiet, reflective, observant individual once concrete evidence of this upbringing erased from his mind. His memories shaped who he was to such an extreme extent.

At contrast with the sense of peace he had with his new self and his gradual rediscovery, with fewer boundaries and expectations, of what his "new" self was to be, was the reactions of people around him. One of the most striking moments was when he had a video camera filming the airport as he was about to be reconnected with his father and sister-- and you realize that you, as a viewer, have as much of a sense as he does which of these masses of people are his core family.
His ex-girlfriend reflects, in one scene, of how him being such a different person challenges her sense of the veracity of their past together-- it is almost akin to his death, how she feels as though because the Doug she loved no longer exists, suddenly their past is less real.

At one point in the film, he returns to London to reunite with friends who've known him for over twenty years. They are all desperately looking for something to link them to the Doug they used to know. One friend just clung to him and wouldn't let go. It all seemed so un-reciprocal, and almost selfish- these people were utter strangers to him, yet they needed so intensely to feel like the connection remained.

His words on these people who loved him with such fervour seemed so hollow. They would be crying their eyes out after seeing him again, and his reaction would be "Well, they seem with very nice fellows. I wouldn't be opposed to visiting with them again." He willingly admitted that he lacked this bond to some of these people who held onto it so strongly, and he knew it was hard for them. The other funny thing about his speech pattern was how concrete and literal it was. He used no metaphors, seemingly because he had nothing to compare his experiences to.

These are only a smidgen of the thoughts that came to mind in watching this film. Although it does occasionally resemble a hodge-podge of art film stock footage, in an attempt of the director to make it creative, I challenge anyone not to watch the film and seriously ponder what they would be like if they, too, suddenly could no longer remember.