Throughout his life, maps have been a source of imagination and wonder for Christopher Norment. Mesmerized by them since the age of eight or nine, he found himself courted and seduced by maps, which served functional and allegorical roles in showing him worlds that he might come to know and helping him understand worlds that he had already explored.
Maps may have been the stuff of his dreams, but they sometimes drew him away from places where he should have remained firmly rooted. In the Memory of the Map explores the complex relationship among maps, memory, and experience—what might be called a “cartographical psychology” or “cartographical history.” Interweaving a personal narrative structured around a variety of maps, with stories about maps as told by scholars, poets, and fiction writers, this book provides a dazzlingly rich personal and intellectual account of what many of us take for granted.
A dialog between desire and the maps of his life, an exploration of the pleasures, utilitarian purposes, benefits, and character of maps, this rich and powerful personal narrative is the matrix in which Norment embeds an exploration of how maps function in all our lives. Page by page, readers will confront the aesthetics, mystery, function, power, and shortcomings of maps, causing them to reconsider the role that maps play in their lives.
A cover I couldn't resist: first, the hand; then the topographic map overlaying the hand; then the title on the palm of the hand. The only thing that could be added to make it more appealing to me would be an eye.
Which is why I go to the library: would this book ever have crossed my path otherwise?
Norment calls it "a cartographic memoir", but he talks as much about space and time and finding one's location in life as he does about the particulars of his own journey. He is excellent at creating a landscape with words, maybe because he has spent so much time studying and making maps and moving through the places they represent. I was easily able to create my own inner pictures and maps as I read his descriptions.
Norment's comfortable place is mostly a wild one, but I felt that his observations applied equally to one who lives in, and moves through, mostly the landscape of the city. Google Maps are my friend, and I study them and take them along if I am unfamiliar with my destination.
But, as Norment notes, "Although the map is a form of knowing, it also retains a certain mystery..."; even the best of maps requires reciprocity, input and effort from the map reader. As do, like this memoir, the best of books.
In the Memory of the Map by Christopher Norment is two thirds memoir and one third essay on how the mind processes and remembers space.
The first chapter opens with Norment describing his home, it's large yard and the surrounding neighborhood. He lived in a farming area roughly halfway between the present day Applied Materials Santa Clara campus and the San Jose airport. He includes two maps: one he drew and one his sister drew. This chapter was riveting, and I hoped a preview of what the rest of the book would be like.
Sadly, I was mistaken. Once Norment was old enough to be free to explore beyond the confines of his childhood home, he took to hiking. Following trails requires a compass and of course a good map. So rather than being about how access to maps and learning to use maps affects a person's perceptions of the world, it's a long, love letter to all those hiking trips. In a word: YAWN.
I purchased this book for my oldest grandson, partially because he loved hiking, the wilderness and biology at the time, and partially because the author was known to me, and this book had stared at me on the new book shelf for months. I am sure that part of my enjoyment of the book was a result of knowing the author, and reading the book made me see him in a new light.
The book follows Chris' life from young childhood through his circuitous journey to become a professor, after exploring other careers. Along the way, maps play an important part, both documenting and guiding. As his family grows to include a wife and two children, so too, does the part that maps play - whether in preserving neighborhood memories or wilderness hikes. Finally, the book closes with a wilderness trip of two weeks, taken with a longtime friend, without a map to guide them. The book is both a physical journey through time and place, and is one man's attempt to understand how we chart our own lives.
It was a good book and had gave me some insights, but in the end the topic was not so interesting to me and probably it was too long.
Il libro non mi è dispiaciuto, anche se l'argomento non è mai stato uno dei miei prefetiti e quindi alla fine è stato troppo lungo e ho impiegato molto tempo a leggerlo.
Though I found the topic interesting, I couldn't read it all. It was worth it just for the first few chapters, to get a handle on the author's thinking and memories of childhood. Those memories were fascinating - and the shared memory with his sister was amazing!
I would argue that this book is a companion to 'Walden'. In my reading and assessment; I would connect Chris Norment with Norman MacLean in being able to weave his story into the very earth with which they observe and travel through.