I have often wondered why it is that some slight and unremarkable memories remain strongly embedded in our waking consciousness while others apparently more memorable are quickly buried, if not forgotten. Yet they both come to us unbidden from time to time in our dreams, or are perhaps more often prompted by the discovery of a faded photograph, or a chance meeting with a long-forgotten acquaintance.
While we may think we possess memory, albeit one that fails as we get older, it is perhaps more accurate to say that memory possesses us, and we're constantly beaten, like "boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past" is the last line in "The Great Gatsby", a brilliant evocation of the Roaring Twenties and a satire of a postwar America obsessed with wealth and status, which is often called the "Great American Novel".
These are also Nick Carraway’s last words in the movie as he reflects on how we are all manacled to our past, captive to our own unreliable witness to past events. "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." I think my boat is beginning to leak!
