That’s Faulkner, right? I think?
Anyway, here are some things you can do with The Past.
erasure of past
rewriting the past
explaining the past
accepting the past
reconciling the past
paying for the past
burying the past
denying the past
hiding the past
exposing the past
scoffing at the past
dismissing the past
loving the past
hating the past
disguising the past
making up the past
glorifying the past
denigrating the past
attacking the past
celebrating the past
spitting on the past
defending the past
apologizing for the past
refusing to apologize for the past
enamored of the past
obsessed with the past
repulsed by the past
terrified of the past
intimidated by the past
worried about the past
amused by the past
trapped in the past
freed from the past
moved by the past
indifferent to the past
hostile to the past
the past is the past is the past.
I just audibled Carlo Rovelli’s THE ORDER OF TIME, as read by Dr. Steven Strange, B. Cumberpatch.
It turns out there’s no such thing as Time’s Arrow. The past isn’t fundamentally different from the future, and the present is only a local phenomena. (There’s no such thing as a Universal Present–to ask ‘what is happening now on Alpha Centauri’ literally means nothing, and it’s not just a question of knowledge.) The only reason we perceive the past as ‘different’ is because some low entropy events leave traces in our mind, whereas high entropy events do not, because the way heat and cold work.
And that’s just on the gross entropic level. On the quanta level, time is particulate and consists only of events, not things. Things literally do not exist on the quanta level.
But listen to me. I’m on my third listen and my second read of the book. Maybe I’ll actually know something by next year.
My point is, a lot more is known about Time than when writing or Story was invented. What kind of responsibility do we as writers have to present an accurate and up to date view of Time? And how do we do it? If we don’t, aren’t we just promulgating a bric-a-brac antique-y idea of Time, when, if our educations were up to snuff, we’d know better than to believe in it? Time isn’t your grandfather’s Time anymore.
Sometimes I think Time is the only thing I have time to worry about.
Yeah, it’s that kind of morning.