I'm stuck on the question of what would I want people to remember me for 200 years from now. (see Jonathan Edwards post below). The usual answers keep popping up, like a beauty queen contestant (I hope for world peace). I hope I'm remembered for being generous, kind, patient, kind of funny, a follower of Jesus. But those things don't get you remembered. Some kid in 2206 won't open his history book and find my biography--Robyn Martins: she was a woman in Ohio who was really nice. She liked to knit hats, and she kept a blog. See section 46B for the definition and history of blogs.
People who accomplish things that we hold in high or low regard are remembered. People who write good novels, are elected president, invent telephones, kill entire villages with an axe--those people make the books.
So, I'm thinking the question should really be "do I expect to be remembered 200 years from now" or "do I even want to be remembered 200 years from now." First answer: I do not expect to be remembered. Second answer: not if I have to kill an entire village with an axe.
I'm not sure it's all that important that I as an individual be remembered. I'd rather be part of a larger group that is studied and hopefully emulated by future generations. I'd rather be part of a humanitarian community, some kind of benevolent club--the Society for People Who Share. Lately, I've been thinking the individual isn't as important as we like to think anyway.
There is a part of me that hopes I do write that good novel that is read by high school students in 2206, even if they don't like it. What do they know, those punk, snotty kids? But I've got decades to do that, hopefully. And maybe I have decades to found that benevolent club, or join one.
So, now I'm thinking that my answer will be different when I'm 80-something than it is when I'm 40-something. Come back in 40 years and ask how I want to be remembered by future generations, and we'll see how my answer changes.
I'd be interested to read your answers. Post 'em, baby.
People who accomplish things that we hold in high or low regard are remembered. People who write good novels, are elected president, invent telephones, kill entire villages with an axe--those people make the books.
So, I'm thinking the question should really be "do I expect to be remembered 200 years from now" or "do I even want to be remembered 200 years from now." First answer: I do not expect to be remembered. Second answer: not if I have to kill an entire village with an axe.
I'm not sure it's all that important that I as an individual be remembered. I'd rather be part of a larger group that is studied and hopefully emulated by future generations. I'd rather be part of a humanitarian community, some kind of benevolent club--the Society for People Who Share. Lately, I've been thinking the individual isn't as important as we like to think anyway.
There is a part of me that hopes I do write that good novel that is read by high school students in 2206, even if they don't like it. What do they know, those punk, snotty kids? But I've got decades to do that, hopefully. And maybe I have decades to found that benevolent club, or join one.
So, now I'm thinking that my answer will be different when I'm 80-something than it is when I'm 40-something. Come back in 40 years and ask how I want to be remembered by future generations, and we'll see how my answer changes.
I'd be interested to read your answers. Post 'em, baby.
Comments
This is one woman is has not been forgotten...
Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks.
And when she saw what she had done,
She gave her father forty-one.
-Rich
I would dearly love to be remembered for having written the greatest novel ever read. It's not very likely to happen so I suppose I'll probably just end up being remembered by the next couple of generation as someone who took far too many photographs and did not enough housework.
Talking of which, must be off.
in 2206, high school students may very well be reading "books" on tablet computers or holograms. they won't have the feel of the paper beneath their fingers, a strong binding to grip, or the scent of fresh or familiar pages depending on how many times the tome has been cracked open.
rather sad to think about that, but we won't be here then, and as long as we can have all the books we can stand in this age, add your classic to the mix. :) i'll be saving room on my bookshelf for it.
~ a.