18 pages • 36 minutes read
Billy CollinsA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“Forgetfulness” examines the effect of aging upon the “you” figure and, by extension, the reader. Collins plays off of the forgetfulness that accompanies aging; the “you” figure’s memories have “retire[d] to the southern hemisphere of the brain / to a little fishing village where there are no phones” (Lines 6-7). The poem approaches aging with a playful tone, suggesting a certain degree of humor in this loss. The speaker treats aging as inevitable, noting that even as the “you” tries to cling to memories and knowledge, life moves on, the body ages, and “Whatever it is you are struggling to remember […] has floated away down a dark mythological river” (Lines 13, 16). The allusion to the Lethe and the underworld re-emphasizes the idea of oblivion (one translation of the Greek lethe) and introduces an element of uneasiness and fear of the unknown.
The speaker is sympathetic to the “you” figure’s attempt to avoid aging, as the “you” attempts to once again memorize the order of the planets (Line 10) and gets up in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle (Lines 20-21). Although aging is inescapable, the speaker acknowledges the inherent loss and the ways in which it can unmoor a person. He points out that the “you” is “well on your way to oblivion where you will join those / who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle” (Lines 18-19). The tone is cheeky, yet sad. The tone undercuts the melancholy that comes with aging, but the lines make a straightforward claim: Aging will take away the physical abilities and activities that once gave the “you” figure joy.
As with the poem’s other themes, Collins approaches the theme of death and loss with simultaneous humor and seriousness. The “you” figure goes through a series of forgotten items that reflect a loss of intellectual power before eventually floating “well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those / who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle” (Lines 18-19). One of the final losses is physical—the loss of the ability to move and exercise—and the speaker feels the imminent threat, knowing that the step after this is death, the eventual destination of the “dark mythological river” (Line 16) upon which the “you” figure floats. This realization is enough to bring the “you” out of bed in the middle of the night “to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war” (Line 21)—a seemingly meaningless datum, but one he is willing to lose sleep over in an effort to forestall what all the aging and forgetfulness leads to: death.
Even as Collins introduces heavy themes like aging and loss, he mitigates their gravity with a lighthearted, humorous tone. By weaving wit and cheekiness into the fabric of “Forgetfulness,” Collins shows that humor can provide an antidote to fear, and it can help the “you” figure ease into an acceptance of aging and ultimately death. By casting the lost memories as retirees who have gone “to the southern hemisphere of the brain, / to a little fishing village where there are no phones” (Lines 6-7), Collins creates a funny, warm-hearted image that undercuts the “you” figure’s desperation. He writes about the struggle to grasp the memory that “has floated away down a dark mythological river / whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall” (Lines 16-17), creating a complicated image that simultaneously evokes death, peace (through the verb “float”), and some dark humor, as “those” (Line 18) whom the speaker joins are both retirees (as portrayed in Line 6) and, following the allusion of the Lethe, dead souls. The implicit counterintuitive parallel between a quaint “little fishing village” (Line 7) and the underworld is more comical than somber. Humor undercuts the fear in “Forgetfulness,” allowing the “you,” and thus the reader, to more readily accept the inevitability of aging.
By Billy Collins