So, clearly some little part of my brain has been holding onto that name for over 25 years, just in case I might need it for something. No wonder I sometimes have trouble remembering important things — my brain cells are full of the head of Judah Zachary and the hand of Count Petofi and Quentin’s stairway through time and the I Ching wands.
I thought about this a couple of weeks ago, when I listened to Bob Dylan’s album Planet Waves for the first time in years.
There was a song I’d forgotten about, called “Dirge.” It was long and wordy (you know, Dylanesque), but I found that I could remember all the lyrics. Every word. Now, I don’t have an extraordinary memory, so it would seem that at some point I had been really into this song, listening to it a lot, though as I say when I had started to play the album I hadn’t even remembered its existence.
(As far as I can tell from a quick search, by the way, it must be the version from Planet Waves that I’m remembering, or not remembering, because apparently the song hasn’t been covered and Dylan has never performed it live.)
Even now I have no memory of any fascination with the song. But all those lyrics must be filed away in my brain for some reason.
At least with Dark Shadows I remember having the obsession.
In fiction, if a character suddenly remembers something from the past, you can pretty much guarantee it will turn out to be significant later on in the story. In the real world, apparently, not so much.