The Aspiring Polymath's Society discussion

This topic is about
Musicophilia
Group Reads
>
Musicophilia
date
newest »

message 1:
by
Chrissy
(new)
-
rated it 4 stars
Nov 01, 2011 07:07PM

reply
|
flag

So: I've just finished Part 1: Haunted By The Music. This chapter's largely about relationships between the brain and music that are abnormal and spontaneous - nonmusical people who become composers right after a head injury, music-induced epilepsy and seizures - about half of Part 1 is a long chapter on musical hallucinations, where Sacks seems dedicated to sharing every case he can find.
If anyone wants to cherry-pick chapters, the one I found fascinating was Chapter 5, which goes into the unique way memory interacts with music. Most memories are an act of reconstruction - you have a series of sense-memories (how the air smelled that day, how someone's voice sounds) and the imagination reconstructs the actual scene (and if I remember my Radiolab, the more you remember something, the more your imagination erodes the actual memory). But music isn't reconstructed. Every aspect of a song - pitch, timbre, tonality, rhythm, even the singer's tone of voice - is remember with surprising accuracy, and the imagination doesn't seem involved at all.
The fact that the brain remembers music in a fundamentally different way from all other memory is my favorite tidbit in the book so far. What do you think of that?

On the other hand, songs or facts are things that we generally encode to memory, through sensation, more than once. We have more traces in memory for them than we do for any given life event. My educated guess is that music itself isn't remembered in any special way, but rather that our traces for it are just (generally) more numerous. Not to mention that songs generally contain repeated melodies, rhythms, and choruses, so each listen is reinforcing the memory for that rhythm multiple times over.
I doubt that memory for music would be particularly more accurate than for an episode, given a single listen of a single bar of melody (which would more closely liken it to how we experience episodes).
Likewise, you can consider that your memory for a face you see often is much more accurate than for a face you see once. Remembering a face you saw few times will introduce confabulation into the memory. Remembering your mother's face probably won't.
tl;dr: Music is sharply memorable because it is a highly repeated sensory experience and does not rely on a single trace as most episodic memories do.
Glad you're enjoying it! I really, really liked this book. Sacks always has insanely fascinating case studies ready for any given subject.

Sacks says as much toward the end of chapter 5, though it seems he still finds it remarkable just how clearly humans can remember a song from very little exposure - we can sometimes remember a song very clearly from a single listen. There are definitely movies I've watched a dozen times, but I can't recall any individual shot from them as clearly as I can recall a song I've heard a dozen times, but that's anecdotal evidence from a non-scientist.
I mentioned this ease-of-reconstruction to a friend, and she had to throw a monkey wrench into the machinery: apparently, whenever she remembers a song, she hears it with her own voice singing it, and all the instruments are her voice making sound effects. She has to listen to the song again to hear it the way it actually sounds. But I've long suspected her brain isn't normal.
tl;dr: Science!

Memory traces lie more in the field of memory theory than they do neuroscience; it's a theoretical placeholder for what we think might be happening on a conceptual level in the brain, based on observation. There are a lot of memory theories that don't involve traces as well.
Re your friend's anecdote.... I actually saw a talk at a conference this past month that brought forward that very finding: most people remember songs in their own voices. The researcher's name was Ira Hyman if you wanted to look him up, but I'm not sure how much of this work is published yet.

Chapter 10, on cochlear amusia, got me thinking: in this chapter, a man's ears go out of whack and higher notes distort, to the point where the top octave on a piano can sound up to an entire note sharp. He lives with this worsening condition for several years, trying to compose music in spite of it (by writing in lower registers and transposing it up), and training himself to, on occasion, focus on what a note is supposed to sound like and train his ears to hear it properly - which works for a few hours before things start to distort again.
But when he takes a commission to write a lengthy piece, the constant exposure to lots of music in that register, the constant training, is like boot camp, and by the end of the writing and recording session his amusia is almost completely sured - after something like 5 years unable to hear music properly.
Whenever I suffer from insomnia, or other problems I just have to put up with for a while, some part of my brain always looks for that "magic bullet," the secret technique that will make my problem just go away. And, of course, I always just have to live with it til it passes. Or, with other weird foibles of slowly getting older, get used to them staying forever.
I'm jealous as SHIT that this guy found a magic bullet, is what I'm saying.
More thoughts soon! Chapter 10 is worth reading, cherry-pickers.


Not that these things aren't interesting! Just not quite what I was looking for when picking up a book on music and the brain. Part 4 looks like it'll have more to do with cognition, so I'm looking forward to it.
Cherry-pickers: Chapter 19, Keeping Time: Rhythm And Movement, was, if I recall, fairly interesting, talking a bit about where our innate sense of rhythm might come from, how it may have been evolutionarily advantageous. Worth a look.

In the end, I think I do like Oliver Sacks, but as it wore on Musicophilia became a slog. It doesn't amount to much but a string of facts and anecdotes, often only tangentially related to music. I appreciate his writing, and learned a lot of interesting things about music and cognition, I will say that. But it did not really cohere. I haven't read any entire books by Sacks before, and even I could tell that much of the book was rehashing previous case studies.
Overall, a good writer with some keen insights, but if I read him again I'll be sure to pick something more focused.
But out of curiosity: Chrissy, in your review of Musicophilia (which popped up on my feed) you were critical of Sacks for being very autobiographical. That's definitely something that can be taken too far, and I think Sacks crosses the line into too much storytelling, not enough hard data, but much of the time I actually appreciate it. It's a stance I usually take with journalism: admitting that there is a writer, that all this is getting filtered through a single lens. Sort of admits to the inherent fallibility of science, that it all has to come from people.
I think there's a good middle ground between too much autobiography and too much objectivity, and I do think Sacks crosses into the memoir end too much. Mostly I'm curious as to where the sweet spot is. What do you think is the right amount to put the writer into the work?

That said, and I believe I said it in my review, I felt he did a decent job of this one as compared to some others of his I've read. I have another of his I haven't read yet, I wonder what that will be like-- whether his writing has improved over the years or whether this one was an outlier.
