Worse than death...

In class on Tuesday, we talked about the importance of remembering.

This was a culture with low literacy rates, so most stories were told orally. The stories sounded repetitive, like music, to ensure they were remembered. Arabia needed ways to remember what was important to them.

Today, we have planners, calendars, reminders to help us remember dates and appointments. Many of us are literate, and can write things down. We have photos of friends from birthdays and special occasions. For our friends whom we've lost, we create collages and tell stories of the good old times.

In Arabia, they had little to no external means of remembrance. If someone died, their memory only lived as long as those remaining still remembered.  Remembering was so important, and to be forgotten was a terrible thing to be.

In Karen Armstrong's book, she notes that hell is not like the angry fires of hell in Christian beliefs. This place is full of sorrow. In this place, the fierce licks of the flames of anger are as equally painful as being forgotten.

This conversation reminded me of one of my favorite characters, Freya (of final fantasy IX). Freya is a dragoon of Burmecia searching for her loved one. When she finds him, she is heartbroken to realize he remembers nothing about her. She falls to her knees, and says "to be forgotten is worse than death." 

Imagine a world without photos to cherish. A world without a way to recall advice or words of a loved one. A place where we only have our memories. When we no longer have those, what do we have left?