Davide Sisto

Remember Me


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along with photographs, and even a whole house. The house represents ‘a deposit, that exists both physically and within us, of memories that are still shared’, it is ‘the final bulwark of a time painstakingly removed […] from the unrelenting progression of loss, from the painful dissipation of living worlds’.3 Morris follows this rule: if you leave me, I’ll erase you.

      Theodore Twombly in cinematic fiction, and Desmond Morris in real life, share the same fate: the end of the world in its totality, to borrow a famous expression from Jacques Derrida. Both the end of a sentimental relationship and the death of a loved one suddenly erase the physical presence to which we are bound, along with everything that had been shared both materially and emotionally up until that moment. Twombly and Morris suddenly find themselves at the starting point of their own lives, as if every experience up to that moment had been erased. The only thing posing any opposition to the end of the world in its totality is the spectral presence of the person who is no longer physically there, the transparent copy that proliferates in material and mental memories, remaining alive and kicking in their scattered remains. That copy, which according to Umberto Eco is relied upon by every human being who, aware of both their physical (‘I’m going to die sooner or later’) and mental weakness (‘I’m sorry that I’m going to have to die’), finds proof of that soul’s survival in the memory that remains of it.4 In other words, both the death of a loved one and the end of a loving relationship determine the passage from identity to the images of identity that transform the absent into a collector’s item, the bulwark against the memory’s fragility at which one can direct their own enduring regrets.

      Morris, however, has to reckon with a greater problem than Twombly: he is obliged to walk the fine line between his own sacrosanct need to forget and his dead wife’s equally legitimate desire to be remembered.

      So what happens when the past becomes a story that we not only tell ourselves but also our followers, recording it on social media profiles and online more generally?

      So, while it is relatively easy to ‘empty’ material deposits once mourning has taken place, placing a protective barrier between the world that has come to an end and the world that must now be built, it is much more difficult (if not impossible) to do the same thing with digital deposits. Like the ‘invisible cascade of skin cells’11 that we leave in the streets of our cities, the collection of data, digital footprints and information recorded online that is constantly photocopied and to which we delegate our memories with increasing frequency, makes those ghosts that assail Twombly’s mind at night increasingly pervasive and permanent, and render Morris’ attempts to chase them out entirely in vain.

      Today’s world seems struck by an epidemic of memory that provides the past with the opportunity to free itself from the present’s control. As it slowly becomes autonomous as an objective reality in its own right, the past overlaps with the present, imposing itself from one moment to the next. As a consequence, it is liberated from the spectrality attributed by those who, until now, have always thought of it as either nothing more than a story we tell ourselves or a mere simulation produced by the mind. And it is preparing to subvert the very rules that govern the way in which we remember and forget.