Living in a dream world

30 March 2020 (Day 11) – I was thinking about the dream I wrote about the other day, and about dreams in general. Dreams and their meanings is a subject that deeply interested me about half a century ago. (I’m entering my second early-adulthood apparently; second childhood not far behind.) I still have Carl Jung’s Memories, Dreams and Reflections, and a few other obscure texts about dreams, on my book shelf.

One fairly recent theory about dreams, if I understand correctly, is that they’re not weird, revelatory “movies” created in the “unconscious,” as Jung thought. They’re just random, sense impressions and memory fragments flashing around our brains while we sleep, part of sleep’s neuro-housecleaning work. Our re-awakening conscious minds cobble the remembered fragments together into a kind of narrative to try and make sense of them – just as our fully-awake minds do with real sense impressions.

I think this theory has been used to refute the idea that dreams have meaning. It doesn’t, it really just changes where the making of meaning happens – from a speculative “unconscious” to our half-awake brains. I think the narratives in our dreams do have meaning. Sometimes it may not be immediately clear – may be coded in a sense, relying on symbolism, allegory, etc. But that’s also true of narratives created by novelists, poets and playwrights. They often have “hidden” meanings too, sometimes hidden even from the authors.

Heavy, eh?

So what did my dream mean? No feckin’ clue.

Seriously: it can’t be coincidence at a time like this that the narrative juxtaposes wide open spaces with very cramped, claustrophobic spaces. Or that the risks of riding on elevators figures prominently. Also, there is anxiety about being in the wrong place and not being able to get to the right place, which is probably an expression of the anxiety I feel – that I’m sure many of us feel – about being separated from family,

My ruminations about dreams and dreaming also dredged up the memory of a book I read – half a century ago – about an anthropologist exploring remote parts of Malaysia in the 1930s. He comes into contact with a then little known indigenous group called the Senoi. An interesting aspect of their culture is that they claim to be able to control the outcomes of their dreams, control their “avatars” in the dream, to learn how to overcome obstacles, meet challenges and promote personal growth in waking life.

Sort of like playing a role-playing video game while sleeping.

It’s an idea that still has currency in the west. It’s referred to as “lucid dreaming” and has been studied fairly extensively. I had no difficulty finding information online about both the Senoi and lucid dreaming – and the book I had read. The book, published in 1954, was Pygmies and Dream Giants by Kilton Stewart. You can still buy it online.

Maybe if I master Senoi-like lucid dreaming, I can figure out how to operate that elevator.

Finally, I had forgotten that one of the reasons the Senoi use dream control is to enhance sexual pleasure. Cue music..."dream a little dream of me."

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Desert Island: Every time I listen to Handel's Water Music, I wonder, why don’t I listen to it more often? It’s so great.

Handel, a Hanoverian living and working in England in the first half of the 18th century, was hugely prolific and hugely popular. He wrote orchestral pieces, operas, oratorios – and everything he did went gold. Water Music was written for King George I who wanted new music to be played while he was floating down the Thames on his opulent royal barge. I think I had this same performance of it by The Academy of St.-Martin-in-the-Fields on LP back in the 1970s.

Dirty Hippy: I’m stretching the definition of “dirty hippy period” a bit with this one – but I was still a dirty hippy at heart when it came out in 1980.

I’m a huge Emmylou fan. I must have bought this when it was first released because I remember inflicting it on anybody who came into our house in Stratford, from which we moved in 1980. It’s from a period when Harris was doing traditional country and bluegrass, on this one with guitarist Ricky Skaggs. It includes cameos by Johnny Cash, Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson.

The Cryptic Corner

Nobody as far as I know got my last cryptic clue: “Fish with forthcoming marriage announcement get away in all the confusion (7)” No?

Non-cryptic clue is “get away” – I know, it’s not at the end or beginning of the clue text. “All the confusion” is a cue that it’s an anagram as well as a word-builder. The answer: “fish” (COD) “with” “forthcoming marriage announcement” (BANS), those letters “in confusion,” yielding: ABSCOND.

Getting a little more gnarly now, but still within rules.

In word-builder clues, setters often include words that need to be translated into their common abbreviation or short-form. For example, if “mother” or “father” appears in the clue, it usually means the letters M-A or P-A, or M-U-M or D-A-D appear somewhere in the answer. If “doctor” is in the clue, it could be D-R or M-O (apparently readily recognized as “medical officer” in the UK.)

When you’re stumped by a clue, one strategy is to assume it’s a word-builder and examine each clue word. Think if there’s an instantly recognizable short form for it. “Small,” “medium” or “large” in the clue could mean S, M or L in the answer; “hot” or “cold” could mean H or C. And so on. “That is” – I-E. “About or “regarding” – R-E. Etc. 

And then there are a couple of special cases. Sometimes the word “point” in a clue translates as “point of the compass” and you’re meant to use one of N, S, E or W to build the answer. “Number” could mean you have to use I, V, X, L, C, D or M (Roman numerals). Or the word representing the number or direction appears and you have to abbreviate – “north” or “ten.” “Note” could mean you’re supposed to include A, B, C, D, E, F or G (the primary notes of the western musical scale.)

Here’s another sample clue to chew on: “Support eastern Vikings with five hundred (7).” Hint: there are two abbreviation/substitution tricks in this one.

Photo of the day

One of Karen's projects, completed under quarantine - an embroidered owl in honour of our owl-obsessed grandson. Owl, which he initially pronounced "ah-yul," was one of Louis's first word. He knows I have owl pictures on my tablet and frequently demands to see them.