It does not matter in what era a person lives or who that person is, most people experience a desire and longing for the past that keeps it alive. Through the rememory of an event, that event is kept alive. As a person ages, what once might have seems troublesome is forgotten of the past, and only the good parts remain alive. Because of this, the past appears luring and attractive, unlike the present situations which always entail some sort of hardships. Usually, the past and the present are marked by some event or moment, not included in one catagory or the other. In Vladek's situation in Maus, the division between the past and the present at times was World War II; at other times, it was the death of his first wife Anja. He longs for the way things used to be, but like most people, he does not remember the difficulties that were: "Why, Artie? Why I ever remarried? Oy, Anja! Anja! Anja!" (Spiegelman I,127).

Although the past cannot be retrieved, it can be revisited. Many individuals long for what used to be and have a hard time accepting what is. Spiegelman tells how "after the war my parents traced down the vaguest rumors, and went to orphanages all over Europe. They couldn't believe [Richieu, their young son] was dead" (Spiegelman II,15). Similarly,the Indians portrayed in Silko's Ceremony attempted to revisit the past: "They repeated the stories about good times in Oakland and San Diego; they repeated them like long medicine chants" (Silko 43). Since they could no longer live in their past, the time during the war, they related to it and remembered it through their songs and stories. Because the memory is selective and will only remember the good in the past, even little children will long for the past. A young boy in Ceremony, living in terrible conditions with his mother remembers and longs for the past: "Once they had lived somewhere else,... He dreamed about that place in the past..." (Silko 110). Once a moment has passed, a person cannot relive it, only remember it and revisit it. It can remain alive in the mind and heart, and continue to give a person strength to hope for the future. I remember a quote my sister had on her wall that summarized this:

Still, sometimes the memories of the past that we do not want to remember and try not to remember are what come back to us in our rememory. In a response (response #2) to Beloved, written by Dan Cohen, Tomoko Yamazaki, and Rachel Luttio, the idea of memories not wanted to be retrieved is explored. They examine, not only the painful memories in Beloved, but also memories of the Atomic Bombing in Nagasaki and the Holocaust. It is stated that Sethe, too, is "hesitant to 'go inside.'" Not remembering the past is a defense mechanism employed by many to protect those around them from the remomry of the event. However, it is also a protection of themselves from the event. If the factuality and greatest of the event are recounted, the event will exist in that magnanimity; whereas, if the bombing at Nagasaki is remembered only in the terms of a "minor car accident," then that is all the power that the event will have in the present. In Beloved, Toni Morrison delves into this notion of memory and rememory. Although it is a painful process, memories must come out and the past must reveal its true self eventually, no matter how hard one tries to repress is. John McGowan, Meghan Cunningham and I wrote a response (Response #9) about this exact idea. Although it can be painful, yesterday is always a dream, but if the good parts are not what is remembered, then yesterday can also be a nightmare.