Both of them express their feelings indirectly, through images and fragments of memory that the reader is left to interpret.
Any reasonably skilled novelist can evoke on the page the texture of memory, drawing the reader into the half-remembered, the blurred edges, the nervous nostalgia, the meandering associations across time and geography.
Sometimes, they are more distraction than narrative thread and the need to return to them often bogs the author down; there are, after all, only so many ways to describe the feel of carved wood and only so many times such an image can be made to work as a symbol of patinated memory without the reader feeling that a point is being laboured.
In them the narratives move seemingly artlessly back and forth in time, from past to present and back into memory, to give the reader the sense of an entire life.
Revelations that some of the titles' most senior journalists were hacking phones over a decade, from 1999 to 2010, will likely not last long in the memory of readers fatigued by the phone-hacking scandal and its fallout.
Geoffrey Hill's elegy "In Memory of Jane Fraser" moves the reader despite the fact that Fraser never actually existed; Paul Muldoon's "Cuba" makes a subtly potent political statement even though its main character — "my eldest sister" — is a fiction.
RB This one might live long in the memory of Australian readers but few cricket watchers here, whose impressions of Kim Hughes are moulded by his resignation tears and Botham's Ashes, have seen footage of this astonishing knock.
These effects reflect how memory mechanisms (processes and resources) support the tight coupling among word meaning, readers' memory of the text meaning and the referentially-specified meaning of the text.
The story of Mark and Teddy takes up the bulk of the second half of "What I Loved" and its sensationalistic tone and implausible events not only fail to mesh with the finely observed first half of the novel, but also threaten to erase the memories the reader has of that portion -- an unfortunate development for a book that got off to such a promising start.
The editor then thanked James, possibly for adding so much to the cultural memory of the city, and then proudly referred readers to the paper's weekly column "The Durb Watch".
