Before It Slips Away
On memory, attention, beautiful spaces, and the difference between knowing something and living it.
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Do you know what hypomnēmata are? I first came across the term in an email, and then again in a newsletter article. It refers to ancient Greek notebooks, commonplace books, or personal journals that served as a form of ‘material memory’, collecting quotes, experiences, and thoughts for later meditation and the development of character. The word comes from the verb hypomimnēskō, meaning ‘to remind’.
I’ve been thinking about the idea recently because it feels particularly relevant to the time we’re living in. We already have an enormous version of the notebook in our phones: saved posts, screenshots, bookmarks and Notes apps, most of which become a graveyard of things we once thought were important. The ancient practice was different because you returned to the material. You chose something you needed that day, sat with it, considered it, and brought it back into consciousness before going out into the world. The aim was not simply to remember an idea, but to practise it until information became behaviour, and behaviour became character. The authors use Plutarch’s term ethopoiesis, meaning essentially the making of character: turning truth into something you actually embody.
I like the idea that becoming the person we want to be might have less to do with discovering new truths than with remembering the ones we already know. Perhaps that is one reason I keep collecting things: articles, books, places, ideas, images. The more difficult part, as ever, is returning to them.
This week’s letter includes beautiful rooms and the question of how we want to live in them, a new chapter for a favourite London seafood address, the strange social revival of an old game, a literary house with a remarkable history, and a few things I’ve been thinking about, reading and noticing lately.
LAST TIME
/at hyperreality
We Used to Know What We Wanted
On the things we chase, the things we leave behind, and finding our way back to ourselves.
I read somewhere that in AA, the acronym H.A.L.T. is used as a way of preventing relapse. The letters stand for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired, and the idea is that when these basic needs are unmet, we become more susceptible to self-destructive behaviour. I have always thought that this applies rather well to life in general. Many bad decisions are made when we are hungry, angry, lonely, tired, or some unfortunate combination of the four. Most of my bad decisions have been made while hungry, as this is the one that seems to affect me the most, as P will readily attest.
Inside for paid subscribers: a closer look at one of London’s most interesting new restaurant spaces, interiors that manage to feel both polished and genuinely lived-in, some surprising developments in the world of food and beauty, and a few things worth making room for.
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