memory

While reading the scenes within the university buildings and corridors, I found myself imagining the scenes in my head. That isn’t unusual in and of itself, but similarly to how I dream at night, the settings of my imagination varied between buildings here at UBC, my high schools in Canada and the UK, and the primary school I left 10 years ago. It was as though different rooms fit different scenes more than others. Or that a particular corridor from my school 6 years ago just fit the bill more than the most recent one. Not to get too on-theme with the novels we’ve read this term, but it’s funny how memory works, isn’t it?

The scene where she rips up the toilet paper that she has been writing on caught my attention. Mainly because I like to preserve practically everything I’ve ever written, so the idea of destroying the thoughts and musings I might have had if I were in her situation feels like a strange loss for me. At first, it also felt like a bit of a waste; my first thought was that if you’re going to destroy it, then why write it down in the first place? But then I caught myself fairly quickly. It can be quite limiting to assume that something is only worth writing if it’s worth keeping, and that’s an idea I think I learnt unintentionally, and am nowadays trying to unlearn. That said, it’s not even very accurate because I often find myself in a situation where I need to write something in order to make my own thoughts coherent. Sure, perhaps in another situation she may have spoken these words aloud where they could then disappear without a trace, but that’s not an ideal method when you’re trying to hide in a bathroom for days on end.

My question this week is: what is the significance of the fact that neither the author nor the protagonist are from the city in which the story is set?