Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.
As well may be, but the name of Cambridge is not to be taken lightly. There’s an excellent article here from the Cognition and Brain Sciences Unit in Cambridge that identifies this text as a 2003 internet meme, unrelated to any published research carried out in Cambridge. The Brain Sciences people elegantly set out the limits of understanding of scrambled words, and why the words above are easier to decode than, for example:
A dootcr has aimttded the magltheuansr of a tageene ceacnr pintaet who deid aetfr a hatospil durg blendur*
However, the original meme came back to me when I had to think of a few words to say at the book launch for Acts of the Assassins. I wanted to explain how the novel can take place concurrently in the past and the present, yet still be understood and read as a thriller. The device works, I think, because fiction is an elastic medium. As long as certain essential requirements are in place, fiction can be stretched this way and that and the story won’t collapse.
Just as the Cmabrigde rscheearch meme demonstrates that in some cases a reader only needs the first and last letter of individual words, so the equivalent of these anchoring letters can be worked out for the structure of a story. Once those central pillars are in place (which may be easier in a recognisable genre like a police procedural), a novelist can have fun with the seemingly redundant bits of in-betweening narrative.
That’s my theory. I’m going to ask Cambridge to look into it.
*A doctor has admitted the manslaughter of a teenage cancer patient who died after a hospital drug blunder.
Start looking and it’s everywhere. Kate Atkinson is at it, and Jenny Offill and Anne Carson. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is full of it, as is the first season of Homeland, and David Lynch has been working on it for years. Jo Nesbo might be, John le Carre is. The poets, some might say, found their way to it first.
Our ideas about the physical world are changing. Quantum particles exist in multiple states simultaneously, they act on each other at a distance and the road not taken is the road taken. Fiction has always reflected the world we inhabit, and in a quantum story individual narrative components behave outrageously.
But as in physics, the overall solidity of the fiction remains intact.
At its simplest, the quantum concept breaks up a narrative into quanta, short bites of information rather than extended narrative passages. These may resist a single objective view of reality. In Lazarus is Dead the story divides into particles of separate fiction and non-fiction, but in Acts of the Assassins the novel isolates particles of time.
The quantum split in Acts merges the past with the present, creating a fiction that reaches for glimpses of the invisible behind the accepted laws of linear narrative. The novel doesn’t conform to a conventional reading of time, but behaves according to quantum theory. What happened then happens now, and vice versa.
Quantum fiction isn’t entirely new. Like the particles, these fictions existed before they were observed and named, but before now we didn’t know what to call them. The Book of Revelation is, but Will Self probably isn’t. Joyce is, but Beckett isn’t, while detective fiction and spy stories are among the most rewarding places to look. Try your own list – nothing more quantum than starting an argument in an empty room.
Acts of the Assassins, Harvill Secker, March 2015
They used to say Pop Will Eat Itself. The internet missed the stage before that was supposed to happen. The navel of the internet was on the menu right from the start. For the letters G through I it’s the children of the internet all the way. Go online to find out what’s online, and then find out about the online features of the online material. Burrow deeper into the machine. Forget there’s any way out.
This is all I know about gmail: gmail is Google’s version of Hotmail, an online email service provided by Microsoft. I might be wrong, but I’m not going to look it up. I have a vested interested in sustaining the internet’s reputation for being unreliable. If you want the facts, if you really want to know something, to nail it down, go read a book. I once considered setting up a fake email identity, a sock-puppet. This would have helped maintain the anonymity of an anonymous blog. All the experts (online, of course) suggested that gmail was the answer. Now, if I see anyone has a gmail address I think hey, they’re a bit dodgy. Or they’re under the age of twenty.
Whereas Hotmail has different connotations for me. World travellers always used to have hotmail, before it became straightforward to access most email addresses remotely. Travelling around the world? Passport, money, tickets, hotmail account. This must now be out of date, perhaps as much so as when I used to travel for an hour and a half on a Sunday to get to the Hong Kong Cable and Wireless office for my fortnightly international phone call (‘why are you leaving me? I phoned a fortnight ago. What do you ever do for me?’) These days everything Microsoft strikes me as practically Amstrad.
This is something to do with pictures, but I don’t know what. One of those internet companies set up at college and sold for $850 million a few years later. Is it one of those? Sometimes I think the internet is the final battleground of the word against the image. My friend Dru Marland once told me the key to a readable blog is the image (she’s a photographer and illustrator, so she would say that) – the words should be thought of as captions. Bored by a thousand white-on-black blogs I thought she had a point, then came Twitter. Twitter was wordy, and I liked it. Instagram (is this right?) is like Twitter for pictures. It’s a counter-attack, and I’m on the side of the words. I’m in the legions. The fight goes on.
Google Roumania: Google, Horoscop, imdb
Google Morocco: Google, hespress, iam
Google Iceland: Google, Hotmail, Icelandair
something for everyone
After I posted the ABC of my Amazon UK A to Z the ever-alert Dru Marland let me know that her D was Dambusters. This raises the uncomfortable possibility that Amazon single letter search suggestions are tailored for each person. Though that can’t be right. We’re on to DEF and I’ve used Ebay only once and have a perfectly good dictionary on my shelves. So I’ve decided to ignore Dru, or imagine that there’s an exception for any Google user who searches for Dambusters info more than once a day. You know who you are.
It makes me happy that so many people should be using Google to look up a dictionary. Presumably this isn’t to find out what a dictionary actually is, but to use the thing. It’s still a bit of a surprise because I’d have thought that a decent online dictionary would be worth bookmarking so no-one would ever have to Google it more than once. I’m unlikely to do this myself. I have a Collins on the shelf for proper reading and writing. When I’m reading on the internet I don’t pay enough attention to care about a word whose meaning I don’t know. Harsh on the web, maybe, but some of us remember you before you mattered.
I occasionally get emails from eBay explaining that my account has been hijacked or I’ve broken some rules and therefore need to send my bank details and possibly cash in an envelope. Nice try, phish people, but I’ve never bought or sold anything on Ebay. Actually that’s not true. I bought a boy’s size Barcelona 10 replica shirt with Messi on the back. This took some time to find as the blue and maroon ones are absurdly expensive and the 2012/13 away strip was horrific to look at. Eventually I found a greenish away strip from a couple of years ago – seemed to hit the spot, so I don’t know why I wouldn’t rush to use Ebay again. I trust shops more than individuals. I wish that weren’t true, but it would seem that it is.
I have to have an opinion about Facebook. Everyone has an opinion about Facebook.
Google France: Deezer, Ebay, Facebook
Google South Africa: Dstv, Eskom, Facebook
Google Brazil: Detran, Enem, Facebook
Facebook is the winner.
Has to mean something
The first letter of every Google search throws up a top-ten of eager suggestions. This function has a name but I’m not going to look it up. (Yes I am, it’s called Google Instant, so I now know that ‘Using Google Instant can save 2-5 seconds per search’. I didn’t need to know that).
This is ‘search enhancement’ that feeds the herd. Google has no idea what I want, but the Google prediction comes from where other people typing these letters most often ended up.
So a search for ‘Richard Beard’ offers a pathway from Rate My Professor through Ringworm and Ricin before I’ve even arrived at ‘Rich’. From ‘Richa’ onwards all the predictions are for Richards far more searchable than I am (Richard Gere wins the battle of the Dicks over Richard Dawkins). I get the first ‘Richard Beard’ suggestion at Richard Bea, which seems sadly late in the day, but sooner than Richards Beardsworth, Beardsley and Beardsmore. Rubes.
There are days, maybe every day, when we are what we want. If that’s true, then Google Instant tells us who we are. The top ten suggestions for each letter of the alphabet give a snapshot of the collective UK unconscious in the middle of 2013. And if I repeat this process next June, and then again in 2015, the suggested search-words will change with our changing desires.
I’m going to look at Google Instant results from A-Z, and ponder the top three for each letter without clicking through. I don’t want to see what everyone else saw. In the Google information era I want to salvage thoughts and prejudices from facts and figures. Like in the old days.
My 2013 life is full of delusions, of incomplete understanding and false hopes. This is my real world.
Amazon is bad. They don’t pay taxes and they put independent bookshops out of business and there was something with Nazi guards persecuting immigrants in a German warehouse. I still buy from Amazon because sometimes I can’t be bothered to be good, even though I want Stert Street to have a bookshop. If Mostly Books flourishes, I feel my provincial town is less likely to fill with thugs who’ll beat me up at closing time. This is not a scientific correlation, and cannot be internet-checked in any meaningful way. Yet.
Amazon the company will also benefit in the statistics from every search for Amazon the river, which is the longest river in South America and full of piranha fish. Amazon.co.uk should give money to the Amazon river, like Lacoste should give money to crocodiles.
This is a site I genuinely don’t use, unlike Amazon, which I only pretend not to use. I listen to Radio 2 on the school-run (I like Chris Evans, so shoot me, though wish he’d stop recording his kids). I listen to Radio 5 for the moronic 606 programme and to TMS when it’s on, and to Desert Island Discs on iPlayer when I’m ironing. I reckon I get enough BBC. Somehow I don’t want to see BBC content written down, and I have the feeling that written BBC news is never going to match proper journalism. The reports will be worthy and dull, so that newsreaders can understand them.
Never clicked on this one either, but it’s where people go to set-up random sex dates. It may do other things, like recommend plumbers and electricians, but as content goes the sex dates are easier to remember. Personally, I wouldn’t use any service like this which is run by a named person – it gives Craig too much leverage. He might tell someone.
Other than that I know nothing about Craigslist, but you know where to go if you want the facts. There’s a website.
Post-script: the Google Instant suggestions change according to region, and it’s heartening to know that in the Google age of globalisation we’re not all searching for the same answers. Here are ABC searches from three countries other than the UK:
Google USA: Amazon, Bank of America, Craigslist
Google Germany: Amazon, Bild, Chefkoch
Google New Zealand: Anz, Bnz, Countdown