Writing Bibliography
 
Queneau, R. – Exercises in Style, Gaberbocchus Press, London, 1958 (originally publ. Librairie Gallimard,Paris, 1947)
 
Autobiography
 
Sartre, J.P. - Words (trans. Irene Clephane) London, Penguin, 1967
 
Woolf, V. - Moments of Being, (ed. Schulkind) Sussex University Press, 1978
 
Woolf, V. – Orlando: a biography, Granada Publishing, London, 1977.
 
 
Fiction
 
De La Mare, W. – Early One Morning, Faber and Faber, London, 1935
 
Elliot, G. - The Mill on The Floss, Oxford Paperbacks, Oxford, 1860/1992
 
Joyce, J. – A Portrait of the Artists as a Young Man, Penguin, London, 1944/2000
 
Joyce, J. – Ulysees, Penguin, London, 1922/2000
 
Melville, H. – The Confidence Man, Random House, London, 2003
 
Michaels, Anne – Fugitive Pieces, Bloomsbury, London, 1997
 
Nabokov, V. – Speak Memory, Vintage Books, New York, 1989 (7th ed.)
 
Proust, M. – In Search of Lost Time, (trans. Scott-Moncrieff & Kilmartin) Vintage Books, New York, 1982 (originally publ. 1954, Editions Gallimard, Paris, 1954)
 
Sebald, W. – Austerlitz, (trans. Bell) Penguin, London, 2001 (originally publ. Carl Hanser Verlag, Germany, 2001)
 
Swift, G. Waterland, Picador, London, 1992
 
Commentary on Writing
 
Davies, W. (ed.) – William Wordsworth: selected poems, J.M. Dent & Sons, London, 1975
 
Fussell, P. – The Great War and Modern Memory, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1975/2000 2nd ed.
 
King, N. – Memory, Narrative, Identity, Edinburgh University Press, 2000
 
Rosen, M. (ed.) – The Penguin Book of Childhood, Penguin, London, 1994
 
de Selincourt, E. (ed). The Letters of William and Dorothy Wordsworth, 2d ed. rev. by Chester L. Shaver Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1967
 
Wertsch, J. - Voices of Collective Remembering, Cambridge Univ. Press 2002
 
Poetry
 
Heaney, S. – Death of a Naturalist, Faber & Faber, London, 1966/19912nd ed.
 
Poems
 
Heaney, S. – Digging, 1966
 
Wordsworth, W. – Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, 1798Wordsworth, W. – I wandered lonely as a Cloud, 1804
 
Wordsworth, W. – The Prelude, Book First, 1799 - 1805
 
Wordsworth, W. – Memory, 1823
 
 
References
 
Heaney, lines from: Digging – 1966
 
“Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun
 
Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down
 
Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rythmn through potato drills
Where he was digging”
 
Michaels:
Here writing about the guardian of the young Jewish holocaust survivor: “Athos had a special affection for limestone -  that crushed reef of memory, that living stone, organic history squeezed into massive mountain tombs.  As a student, he wrote a paper on the karst fields of Yougoslavia. Limestone that develops slowly under pressure into marble” (Michaels, p.32, 1997)
 
Nabokov:
We must accept two “black voids” – before and after.  He wants to break through “the walls of time separating me and my bruised fists from the free world of timelessness……I groped for some secret only to discover that the prison of time is spherical and without exits” (Nabokov, p.20, 1951)
 
Images were a very Important source of recollection of the past: “judging by the strong sunlight that, when I think of that revelation, immediately invades my memory with lobed flecks through over-lapping patterns of greenery” (ibid, p.21,)
 
Strongly associated specific places, which his Mother had used as mnemonic aids and which Nabokov said she “cherished”, with his recollections of her; named them as “time marks” (ibid, p.40,)
 
Nabokov’s recollection had a deliberateness to it and involved temporally bound “patches”: “I particularly remember the cool and sonorous quality of the place, the checkerboard flagstones of the hall, ten porcelain cats on a shelf, a sarcophagus and an organ, the skylights and the upper galleries….etc.” (ibid, p.65)
 
and
 
“the act of vividly recalling a patch of the past is something that I seem to have been performing with the utmost zest all my life” (ibid, p.75)
 
Proust:
Describes “waking dreams” and “gusts of memory” – he would re-visit all the bedrooms he had slept in from the perspective of the time of writing. (Proust, p.7, 1954)
 
Describes seeing someone and imbuing them with all that we know from previous acquaintance: “we pack the physical outline of the person we see with all the notions we have already formed” (ibid, p.20)
 
“as though one’s life were a picture gallery in which all the portraits of any one period had a marked family likeness (ibid, p.21)
 
Proust dismisses “voluntary memory” as showing “nothing of the past itself” ie. it is only in spontaneous memory that genuine connection with the past was possible. (ibid, p.47)
 
Recovering the past is: “outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect” (ibid, p.47)
 
On eating a “petite madeleine” – or rather a section of it in a teaspoon full of tea – the taste “filled me with a precious essence” an “all powerful joy” and a vision “palpitating in the depths of my being must be the image, the visual memory  which, being linked to that taste, is trying to follow it into my conscious mind” (ibid, p.49)
 
Woolf.: "Memory is the seamstress, and a capricious one at that. Memory runs her needle in and out, up and down, hither and thither. We know not what comes next, or what follows after. Thus the most ordinary movement in the world, such as sitting down at a table and pulling the inkstand towards one, may agitate a thousand odd, disconnected fragments, now bright, now dim, hanging and bobbing and dipping and flaunting, like the underlinen of a family of fourteen on a line in a gale of wind." (Woolf, V. p.49 1977)
 
Wordsworth, during his tour of the alps: "Ten thousand times in the course of this tour have I regretted the inability of my memory to retain a more strong impression of the beautiful forms before me, and again and again in quitting a fortunate station have I returned to it with the most eager avidity, with the hope of bearing away a more lively picture. At this moment, when many of these landscapes are floating before my mind, I feel a high [enjoyment] in reflecting that perhaps scarce a day in my life will pass [in which] I shall not derive some happiness from these images." (de Selincourt, p.35/6, 1967)
 
Wordsworth, lines from: Memory – 1823
 
A PEN--to register; a key--
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
 
……..
 
Oh! that our lives, which flee so fast,
In purity were such,
That not an image of the past
Should fear that pencil's touch!
 
Retirement then might hourly look
Upon a soothing scene,
Age steal to his allotted nook
Contented and serene;
 
………
 
Wordsworth, lines from: I wandered lonely as a Cloud – 1804
 
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
 
Wordsworth, lines from: The Prelude, Book First – 1799 - 1805
 
Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up
Fostered alike by beauty and by fear:
Much favoured in my birth-place, and no less
In that beloved Vale to which erelong
We were transplanted;
 
Wordsworth, lines from: Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey – 1798
 
Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!