Had kind of an epiphany while reading one of this week's articles;  previously, I had been thinking of literature as something which was about human minds, which made it worthy of study in this class.  Of course, this literature is also a product of human minds, which I fully realized today.  Literature is worthy of study in a neurobiological context because it is a unique behavior produced by the human nervous system - no other animal writes prose.  It's interesting to think about the cognitive mechanisms that interact to produce such a complex institution - writing is a fairly recent development, so it's unlikely that it is an adaptive trait itself.  Maybe a small realization, but I find the subject much more interesting from that perspective.

The 'neuro-turn' piece was rather buzzwordy, but from what I could gather the authors think that the arts and humanities, along with popular culture, are beginning to turn more toward neurological explanations for things.  It also doesn't seem like they're happy about it.  I can see where they're coming from, but I think such a transition is only natural.  Yes, neuroscience is still in it's infancy with regard to what we can explain about the brain, but our knowledge of the mind will only increase with time.  Soon, I think neurobiology and it's implications may be the best way to explain nearly anything that humans do, including the arts and humanities.  After all, these things are products of the human mind (as explained above).

I thought the Brown article about the multiple characteristics and symptoms of ADHD was great - I feel like often people think of ADD as being something characterized only by hyperactivity and high distractability, but there are obviously other facets which the article explained well.  It would have been nice if the article had gone a bit more into the biological basis of ADHD, however.  It's characterization of executive functions was also highly useful to me, as I had not previously fully grasped what this suite of operations was when we talked about it during the memory section (I think that was what we talked about... I may well be wrong.)

I also thought the article about the recent prevalence of hyper attention as opposed to deep attention was interesting, especially the part about how human brains are very plastic in their development.  It's kind of disturbing to think about how media has shaped the new generation of children in western nations - possibly for the worse (as many seem to think), although the article describes the change as something that is only different from the norm rather than objectively worse.  It's hard to tell, but we may find out in the future when the generations of developing nations who grew up without media begin to compete with our own media-raised children.  Such observations in the future may lead to a new set of parental guidelines.  (although the article did caution against using neurobiological findings to shape educational strategies, this is different in that it would be relying upon behavioural observations.)

A Curious Case of  a Dog in the Night Time  is an interesting book because it gives us a chance to perceive the world from the vantage point of an autistic person.  One thing that I noticed was that Christopher's lack of social skills and the problems stemming from his disability all came about as a result of interacting with people without autism; I wonder if perhaps autistic people would get along with each other with far less incident.  Christopher also seemed to be a very productive and intelligent individual outside of the social realm.  It was actually very calming to read this book...  Generally my mind is filled with all sorts of distractions but reading from the Christopher's linear perspective seemed to clean things up a bit.  As a thought experiment, I think if you compared two separate populations - one composed solely of autistic individuals, and one composed solely of normal individuals, over time, the autistic population would outpace the other in terms of technological advancement.  Of course, this is purely hypothetical and based solely upon the description of one high-functioning autist as given by a man who does not suffer from the condition.  However, if we run with this assumption, the conclusion we reach is that social skills, although necessary at some point during our ancestry, have now outlived their usefulness and only serve to hold us back as a species.  Even if this was true, I could never see social aptitudes being eliminated from humanity - they are too important in the process of finding a mate.

On an unrelated note, one problem I did have with this book was that it wasn't written by someone with autism - the description of an autistic mind given by Mark Haddon can therefore not be completely accurate.  He did work with autistic people earlier in his career which does give him some insight, but I'm not sure how much he can know, considering the difficulty autistic people have with communication.

The notion that humans have a genetically determined preference for grammar is an interesting one.  A specific sequence of molecules present in the DNA of every human determines the structure of all man's language, which ultimately influences the way we communicate with each other and perceive the world.  The implications of such a notion are intriguing.  If there's a genetic basis for the structure of language (and reality), then it was shaped by natural selection.  If it was shaped by natural selection, it can be further altered through natural or artificial selection.  Although it would be highly interesting to see what the effects of such selection would be on human populations (entire new ways of seeing the world?) such experiments would have problems with feasibility and ethics.  Maybe, even without direct intervention, such changes have been occurring over the course of human history, gradually changing the way humans interact with each other and the universe at large.  This idea could possibly be tested through some sort of wide analysis of modern texts with more ancient ones (or at least it could in a hundred thousand more years, if we're still around).

 Another interesting area of investigation would be the more rudimentary languages of animals such as whales, who some say have dialects and cultures (http://www.physorg.com/news/2011-12-evidence-sperm-whale-culture.html).  Do whales have common and inherent rules of language, similar to humans?  Do we even share some of these rules?  It would be fascinating to see how far back the structure of human language began to emerge, and what creatures we share this structure with.

A genetically determined skeleton of language also spells bad news for anyone who hopes to make contact alien species at any point.  Ignoring glaring biological differences that are likely to get in the way of any interaction between human and extraterrestrial, and the vast unlikelihood of running across anything with the sort of intelligence needed to communicate with humans, if they had a language it would likely be so fundamentally different from our own that we would have no chance of translating to or from it.

Damsio's distinction between emotion and feeling is an interesting one because it wouldn't have made any sense to say such a thing before we could measure the physiological aspect of feeling in the brain (or other internal organs).  The outward manifestation of feeling and the inward experience of feeling are the same thing if you can't verify the inward experience of anyone else.  This causes me to wonder what other aspects of the human experience may be further dissected and clarified in the future when technology gives us the capability; the relationship between subconscious and conscious thought comes to mind.

In the same vein, I thought Damiso's explanation of the way emotion precedes thought to be very interesting.  As he states, most people think of this relationship as going in the other direction.  However, Damiso's explanation makes sense when considered from the evolutionary framework he provides.  In fact, I thought all of his evolutionary and physical explanations of feeling were great.  It's amusing to think about how all of human culture is built upon evolutionary traits and developed responses that may not even be valid in our current state of technological advanceent.  Persuasion is just the result of a few misused (according to their original functions) mechanisms and structures present in the brain of Jane Austen, along with any other novel or work of art.  Some of these behaviors may even be harmful, as Damsio brings up (racism; anger; etc.).  He even states at one point "We can learn to disregard such reactions and persuade others to do the same".  The implication of what he's saying is that feelings are really only holding us back as a species.  This is interesting for two reasons:  it's probably true, which is funny given that feelings were obviously something that helped humans succeed in the first place, and it brings up the question of whether feelings or reaching humanity's full potential is more important.  There's nearly nobody (apart from a few abnormal individuals) who would give up all of their unreasonable and unproductive feelings in order to be a more productive member of society.  Of course, humans only have an affection for human feeling because we have feelings, in an odd self-fulfilling way.  If aliens came by with a massive feeling-amputation ray and immediately rendered all humans incapable of feeling, nobody would miss it (by definition).  We'd probably develop teleportation and begin to colonize other planets within the year.  The question is, without emotion, would anything people did even matter anymore?  Without feeling, the answer is no, at least under the current definition of meaning.  It should be noted that bacteria do just fine operating strictly according to biological tenets with no feelings or even nervous systems to get in the way.

Perhaps I'm missing something, but I fail to see the value in Jane Austen.  Her novels are often touted as  pieces of classic literature (as evidence by our "Penguin Classics" editions), but the plot seems like a Victorian soap opera and from what I hear all of Austen's plots are pretty much the same.   You could find droves of similar romance novels at any library, although Austen's writing is probably better.  Locution, not message.  Austen may be able to write eloquently, and this may be one of the reasons why she's highly regarded.  It just doesn't seem like there's any new ideas to be found in her writing, any underlying social commentary, or any sort of deeper message.  Just some woman pining after a prince charming who eventually comes round.   Maybe I'm not reading deep enough into her prose - but maybe others are reading too deeply into her prose.  This is one of the main problems I have with literary analysis in general.  Of course it's possible to read into Austen's writing and find a deeper meaning, but it's possible to read almost any meaning into any piece of prose if you try hard enough.  Of course, since Austen is dead, it's impossible to verify any deeper reading of her work (unless the message is obvious), but it's safe to assume that most deep interpretations of her prose will not have been her intent.

In relation to the other readings we did on empathy and consumption of fiction, I think Austen's work may even be a little harmful.  Assuming that reading fiction improves empathy (I know that it wasn't proven since there was only correlation), the 'empathy practice' you get from a novel would be dependent on the minds of the characters.  Of course, since these are only simulated minds, they do not reflect the way real people would act, but only how the author thinks such people would act.  If you are gaining your notions of how to interact with others and how they feel about things from Austen, you're probably going to be incorrect in some areas.

I find myself echoing the sentiments of the kind of person who thinks that violent media makes you more aggressive, or that watching porn makes you sexist.  As far as I know, these things haven't been proven...  So maybe I'm wrong about Austen.  Possibly, just seeing how Austen thinks the minds of other people work is beneficial - even if it's a bit flawed.  Obviously everyone's empathy is going to be a bit off, so there really is no objective standard of empathy to compare hers to, meaning there's value in reading any fiction - gaining insight into anyone's view of how other people work.

Effects on society brought about by literacy

Humanity’s greatest natural asset, the one that has allowed us to succeed in a way that no other animal can surpass, is our intelligence and capacity for cooperation.  It is then only logical that a human technology which amplifies both of these traits would drive us to even greater success, as did the invention and subsequent spread of written language.  However, before it was near-universally adopted, literary technology had its critics –- as will anything that causes change in human societies.  Ultimately, however, reading and writing became a fundamental part of civilization as we know it, and new forms of communications technology will continue to do so as they appear.  

One fundamental building block of modern society is the sort of displaced memory provided by written language. 

 Of course, the changes brought about by literacy did not come without trade-offs.

Others have launched criticisms against reading based more upon the fear of change than biology.

Despite the fact that written language deviates our brains from their natural capabilities, our technology-augmented minds have allowed us to build a subjectively successful global society; Whether or not these augmentations have been objectively beneficial does not matter, as they have become a vital part of every modern sophisticated society.  From this, we can posit that new technologies of communication, such as the internet, will become a vital part of future societies, despite current criticisms and fears of the changes they bring about in our brains.

I kind of felt like I had wandered into an alternate universe upon reading Scarry's bit about flowers.  I haven't noticed that flowers are oft-used examples of imagination.  Nobody I know talks to excess about flowers or can describe them in great detail.  I can't imagine any flowers better than I can imagine horses.  It seems to me that she cherry-picked literary examples pertaining to flowers and wrote based upon her own imaginative preferences.

Scarry's statement that imaginings can be moved to anywhere and are not just limited to the forehead was somewhat of a revelation to me.  I suppose I've just never thought of doing that; every time I imagine things it's either up in my head, or superimposed on the inside of my eyes (so to speak).  Trying her method seemed to work, though, meaning that my idea of  imagination was based upon society's picture, rather than reality.  This has some interesting implications about the rest of the supposed structure of my mind, though it's impossible to tell what's accurate and what isn't.  It seems that this sort of thing would make study of cognition difficult; it's hard to tell which processes are biologically defined and which are shaped by outside factors, although perhaps this could be controlled for by testing across various different cultures.

Regarding the Schooler and Small article, the notion of "mind wandering" occurring against one's will is interesting to me.  They specifically say "Mind wandering may occur as a consequence of trying to avoid it".  Why does this happen?  It seems strange that our brains are capable of acting in ways that we don't wish them to, but everyone experiences this(Don't think of a pink rhinoceros).  Our limbs don't spastically flail without our express will (under normal circumstances in a healthy human); why does our brain seemingly act without our permission?  I think part of the answer to this lies in the fact that a lot of the decision making in our brain may happen on a subconscious level; there have been studies where researchers can predict a subject's decision based on subconscious activity before the subject themself is aware of deciding. (http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/04/080414145705.htm)

Conjecture - This, to me, implies that our brains are biological organs, and that our notions of conscious control are mainly illusory.  Consciousness as humans know it is a fairly recent evolutionary development; however, for millions of years, our ancestors were making decisions without any consciousness required.  It's likely that these unconscious decision-making processes are still in place and dictate more of our choices that we'd like to think.

The criticisms of literature and reading as portrayed by Lamb and Johnson interested me because in modern times one never sees such things; books are pretty much always seen as something that will improve your mental faculties.  Lamb states that one of his acquaintances had stopped reading and shortly improved in originality; he also portrays books as a substitute for thinking.  This is interesting to me, because I've always thought that books had the opposite effect.  The main thing I look to glean from books is new concepts; I think I would be a lot less 'original' if I didn't read (I don't think anybody is really original - original in my book is the ability to combine ideas of others in novel ways).  Books as a substitute for thinking I can see, because it's difficult to think deeply and read at the same time.  Once again, though, my thoughts would be a lot more limited without the influence of books, so I don't think it would be a good thing to sacrifice reading for more thinking-time.

Johnson talks about his contemporaries who think books have a negative effect on reasoning ability or who say that reading too many books will have an adverse effect on one's own ability to communicate.  The first point I completely disagree with, but the latter I can find some merit in.  It's something that I've seen others mention here and there as well as noticed in myself; if I read or otherwise consume too much of some form of entertainment in a day, my social skills decline.

The main thing that interested me about these criticisms of reading was how they compared to current criticisms of the internet; it's a pretty common idea that the internet rots your brain/attention span/memory.  Both books and the internet have been seen as something that decreases the natural function of the brain.  I'd say that reading books are considered to have a positive effect in modern times, but the internet hasn't been around long enough to enjoy similar opinions.  Maybe, because both books and the internet are something 'unnatural' (something our brains didn't originally evolve to cope with), the changes they wrought that deviated from natural functioning were seen as negative, simply because they were changes.  The changes that books wrought are mostly seen as positive now, and I wonder if the same might be true of the internet some day.  Maybe the changes the internet are causing aren't negative so much as they are simply different for us.  Of course, the flip side to this is that maybe the changes books wrought were negative, but we've gotten so used to that sort of intelligence now that we consider it better.

Reading Proust for the first time, I was amazed and incredulous that this man claimed to remember such trivial events of his life in such amazing detail.  I then read the Lerer article which relieved my suspicions by saying that Proust himself knew that his memories were inaccurate.  The article then goes on to describe Freud and his possibly lying patients, who may have created memories simply by imagining them.  I think the ideas of planted and false memories are different from what Proust is doing; he probably knows a vague account of what he has done, he is simply filling in the gaps, fleshing out an outline.  Since Proust writes mainly about himself, he only has to fill in gaps that pertain to what he was thinking; and since Proust knows himself, maybe he can fill in these gaps fairly accurately by imagining what he would do in certain situations.  Of course, this is all conjecture.


On a different tack, I disagree with Bergson's (and Proust's) idea of intuition, or the idea that you can discover truths about yourself simply by thinking for long enough.  Proust did indeed describe many truths that are now known to modern neuroscientists (memories are inaccurate; odor and taste have strong links to memory in mammals) but he had no way of knowing that they were indeed true.  It's likely that Proust also described many aspects of himself and his memory that were simply due to his own idiosyncrasies and misperceptions.  It is for this reason that I think intuition is a faulty way of discovering significant truths about human consciousness.


Regarding Tristram Shandy, I think the author's method of making Tristram's recollections a scattered and dissociated affair is perhaps a more accurate depiction of memory than Proust's; when I remember things, I do not remember them in great detail and so linearly (this also relates to the issue brought up in class where literature is linear but thought isn't necessarily).  Instead, I remember things more like Tristram.  I will remember one thing for a while, then it will remind of of another thing and I will start to think about that.  

One thing that stood out to me was the difference in the method of explanation between Practical Attention  and the more modern Attention:  Theory and Practice.  Practical Attention lays out an explanation of attention and educational methods which is not well cited or supported by anything except anecdotes, but it makes sense and seems logical, regardless of whether or not it is correct in its assumptions.  When Attention: Theory and Practice talks about modern theories of attention, the knowledge presented is perhaps less intuitive, but is always supported by citation to (hopefully) sound research.  Practical Attention may be wrong in some of its assumptions, but all of them made sense to me as I was reading.  Sometimes I find myself wondering how ancient peoples managed to believe things that we know today to be obviously false (such as the animal-spirit theory, for one), but things like Practical Attention are the answer.  Explanations for certain things that make sense seem to be correct; it is easy to accept them.  The problem is that many explanations which make sense can be conceived and not all of them are going to be correct.  This is why the scientific method of testing logical assumptions to see if they hold up is important.

Another thing I found interesting in Practical Attention was the relationship discussed between unknown language and attention; I had never really thought about it before, but I think it's valid.  Tristram Shandy is hard for me to focus on for any prolonged period of time, but I can read more modern texts easily.  It also gives me some hope that slogging through Tristram Shandy as well as the other centuries-old texts in class will become easier over time.

Tristram Shandy is written in a different dialect of English than people speak today, and this makes it hard to understand for the unaccustomed.  Older texts are yet more deviant from modern language.  Because thought is so closely tied to language for most people, this leads me to wonder if the evolution of language has also caused an evolution in structure of thought over the centuries, faster than genetic evolution.  It is possible that people today think in completely different ways than people two hundred years ago, but of course it is impossible to know for sure.  Literature from different periods tells us some things, but literature is only the output of a mind, not the inner workings.  Studies of differences in thinking in native speakers of different languages could perhaps shed some light on the study of this subject.

Reading response 1; "Consciousness and the Novel" and "When I have fears that I may cease to be"

In the selection from Consciousness and the Novel, Lodge defines phenomena called qualia as the subjective perceptions experienced by everyone with a human consciousness.  He also portrays qualia as difficult to describe with language.  He sets it up as one of the main arguments for a dualistic view of the mind/soul and the brain.  However, as a person who personally thinks brains are naught but a collection of neurons, I fail to see the problem with qualia.  I just don't see the connection between the premise that people have subjective experiences and the conclusion that there must be some kind of separate and non-corporeal mind.  People's neurons become connected in different ways due to both development and experience, this is enough to explain these differences.

Maybe I'm not quite grasping the concept, but it also seems to me that qualia would be more of a challenge than a support to a dualistic view of humans.  Qualia, as I understand them, are basically pure sensory input with the tinge of emotion you've attached to the stimulus, independent of language.  Under this definition, nearly any mammal would be capable of experiencing qualia.  Do cows have souls as well?  (I suppose that some would say they do...)

Either way, Lodge's discussion of qualia is relevant because he also goes on to describe poetry as man's most successful attempt to describe qualia, which fits in with our primary readings of Keats' poetry.  I find Lodge' s characterization of poetry and qualia amusing when paired with Keats' "When I have fears that I may cease to be".  I interpret the poem as Keats' acceptance of the fact that there is no afterlife, and no therefore no separate soul.  He sends this message using mainly sensory perceptions, qualia, which are supposed to be proofs of a soul of some sort.

In the poem, Keats basically says that he fears the day his existence will end, though he may be surrounded by and currently experiencing all of the things which seem to matter during our lives - but no matter our capacity for reflection on this, we will still cease to be when we die, and so too will all of the things that we previously cherised.  The last two lines of the poem state that

"Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink."

This is Keats stating that he can worry about his inevitable demise, but ultimately it will happen anyway.  This is the end of the poem - his solace is not an afterlife, but the fact that after a while he won't be able to worry about such things anyway.