THE FUNCTION OF MEMORY 

 Here is a continuity in learned behavior from one season to the next. 

 These waterfowl "pick up" the routine of their lives in a familiar environ- 

 ment despite an absence long in both time and space. Such continuity is 

 explained in terms of memory. Rowan (1931:81) remarks that "of the many 

 interesting facts brought out by bird banding, none is more striking than 

 the return of given individuals to the same nesting box year after year, in 

 some cases with thousands of miles of travel to their credit during the in- 

 tervening nine or ten months. That topographical memory is involved in a 

 feat of this nature seems more than likely." Lincoln (1950a: 29) speaks of 

 "retentive memories" in migrants; and many others working with bird 

 movements have explained the recognition of old haunts in terms of mem- 

 ory. Seldom, however, is the word defined ; each reader is free to make his 

 own individual judgment of a function he does not thoroughly understand 

 in himself, much less in birds. Gerard (1953:118) points out that "even to 

 identify memory, let alone explain it, is no simple matter. ... Is a film 

 a memory of light in chemicals and a tape recording a memory of sound in 

 magnetism? Is a library a memory of thought in books and a brain a memory 

 of thoughts in protoplasm?" 



In developing this discussion, I feel obliged to digress briefly to consider 

 the function of memory in our own lives. To most of us the word implies 

 conscious recollection, the mental process whereby past experiences are 

 recalled to present awareness. When searching the past to give memory a 

 play, we readily call to mind many segments of personal history, such as 

 the plan of our first schoolroom, the old barn, the corner store. It is pos- 

 sible to recollect hundreds of places, incidents, and companions, retrieving 

 these from the near or distant past. In our doing so, the memory function is 

 accompanied by imagery; our mind's eye "sees" the shape of experiences 

 we recall. In careful examination of our past, however, we realize that the 

 recollective memory has its limitations. The total of our experience is not 

 remembered ; we know that much of the past cannot be brought to present 

 awareness at will. 



This part of the personal life story not to be remembered at command 

 is, nevertheless, brought to awareness by certain related cues. When clean- 

 ing the attic I come across toys of childhood and suddenly remember some- 

 thing that could never have been recalled without my first discovering the 

 playthings. Seven years ago I ate a meal in a neighboring city where I was 

 in a restaurant not longer than thirty minutes. Afterward the place had no 

 importance in my life, never so much as entering my mind until I returned 



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