“A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hmãn, as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing.”1 This line, from C. S. Lewis’s Out of the Silent Planet, recently struck me as quite profound, having some deeper meaning than what appeared on the surface. So, I dog-eared the page for later consideration.
In Out of the Silent Planet, the main character, Ransom, is abducted and taken to another world to seemingly be offered as a sacrifice to an unknown deity. After escaping his captors, Ransom befriends the Hyoi, a member of an indigenous species known as the hross. Later, as the two work on Hyoi’s boat, the subject of pleasure comes up. Ransom describes how, on his world, if something brings pleasure, members of his species will work to have the experience again and again. This idea befuddles Hyoi, who schools Ransom beginning with the line I quoted above.
“A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered,” Hyoi said to Ransom. I think what Hyoi was saying is that there is more to pleasure than the experience. Yes, the experience causes chemicals in our brain to be released, synapses fire, and our brain lights up like a Christmas tree. We like the feelings that we get from such an event. We are enraptured by the way that our bodies react. But such things are fleeting and disappear soon after the experience ends, which drives us to have more experiences.
So, the experience itself may make us feel good, but I think that we all too often confuse the rush we get during the experience with real pleasure. This runs counter to the classic definitions for pleasure, I am sure. But the idea that real pleasure stems not from the experience alone but from the experience coupled with the memory opened a door for me. Many say that true happiness comes from being content with what we have, which implies that, rather than seeking to repeat past experiences, we cherish the memories. This, then, allows us to experience pleasure in all circumstances; we are pleased with all things.
Remembering the event that brought me such immense joy is the key, then, to lasting pleasure. There are many ways to remember something; for me, writing a poem is one of those ways. Poetry allows me to mull the experience over, delving into my true feelings, and expressing those feelings in a way that is meaningful to me. The mental process involved in composing solidifies the memory in my mind, linking it to other memories in associative web that enhances recall and meaning. This web, I think, is important from a mental wellness perspective. When times are not so good, as I find myself falling in despair, it is this web that catches me like a safety net, preventing me from free fall to my demise.
1 Lewis, C. S. Out of the Silent Planet, (New York: Scribner, 1996). Page 74.
2 Responses to Pleasure, Memory, & Poetry