I am a great admirer of Paul Fussell’s ‘The Great War in Modern Memory’. Fussell writes eloquently and persuasively about the relationship between language, literature, action and cognition. Interviewees, he found, often recalled incidents from the war precisely because they were ironic: the irony of a man being ‘comforted’ by a friend, oblivious to the terrible injuries sustained by the friend; the stumbling across of a corpse of a family member; and so on, and so on.
This resonates with ironies about how gratitude is received and remembered. Many of the anecdotes told to me by doctors involve irony. The irony of a mental health patient railing against being sectioned by a doctor who feels dreadful about the situation, only to be profusely thanked for ‘saving my life’ by the patient some months later. The irony of doctors being sincerely thanked when their efforts have proved futile and the patient has died. I can’t think of other situations in which failure prompts gratitude in an analogous way.
Fussell argues that, ‘the art of memory organizes into little ironic vignettes, satires of circumstance’ (p. 32 of ‘The Great War and Modern Memory’, OUP, 2000, f.p. 1975). I have a feeling that this is true of instances of gratitude that come foremost to mind for doctors and other healthcare professionals.
Could this also, perhaps, have memories of pain with medical process. Or of organisation-wide poor treatment.
Little things that stick in (and form) the memory…