The Extraordinary Relation Between Our Senses and Our Memories
And how a familiar scent can trigger childhood memories
It’s a cloudy day in Edinburgh and I’m in a bookshop browsing the hundreds of books carefully stacked on the shelves. I catch a glimpse of the book I’m looking for and I extend my hand to reach for it.
I flick through the pages and, unconsciously, I bring the tip of my nose close to them. I close my eyes while I’m breathing in that crisp, ethereal scent of ink and paper — my favorite ritual since I was a child.
I’m immediately transported to another moment, another place.
It’s a sunny, chilly Saturday morning in my hometown. I have just finished my choir lesson and I’m in my favorite bookshop for the established Saturday shopping. My grandmother is chatting with the bookseller about the latest releases, while a seven-year-old girl, me, is browsing the big children’s library for her next favorite book. I’ll get one, or maybe two new books, and I’ll read them on the comfortable armchair near the fire, sipping a hot mug of chocolate.
I always welcome this memory and I’m happy I can still recall it but I can’t help wondering how this can happen.
How can a smell, image, sound, or taste, take us back in time and bring in front of our eyes memories that would otherwise be forgotten?
Smell acts as a trigger in recalling a long-forgotten experience
Has a whiff of butter, eggs and sugar by a nearby bakery ever evoked the memory of your favorite cookies your mother used to bake at Christmas?
Have you ever been somewhere and felt a déjà vu, the sensation of being there before?
Our senses don’t only help us to experience the world but remind us of significant moments in our lives.
When you try to fall asleep while it’s raining outside, you might recall the times you were safely tucked in your bed as a child, listening to the raindrops on the rooftop.
Each time you listen to a specific love song, you might recall a particular person in your life and experience an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia.
However, while all our senses can revive memories, smell is one of the most powerful.
“Of the five senses, smell is the one with the best memory.” Rebecca McClanahan
A study called “Smells and Emotions” by psychologist Silvia Alava shows some impressive results. Dr Alava studied 1000 participants and found that people remember 35% of what they smell and only 5% of what they see. Moreover, 85% of the participants said that certain smells bring back happy memories.
All this makes sense if we see our brain as the complex structure it is. The fantastic anatomy of our brain allows us to recall things long forgotten.
One of the most interesting structures of our brain is the Olfactory bulb, which receives sensations of smell. It’s responsible for sending information to the hippocampus, a structure that is responsible for processing smells.
But why does smell surpass all the other senses?
Hearing and vision start at the sense organs (ears and eyes) and move to a relay station called the thalamus, before passing on to the rest of the brain. On the other hand, smell goes directly to the olfactory bulb with nothing in between.
According to Tom Stafford, senior lecturer in Psychology and Cognitive science at the University of Sheffield, smell is the oldest and most complex sense. Our ancestors lived in a world where chemicals could be found in the air and water, so they used their smell to sniff them out and protect themselves. Before sight, hearing, or even touch, creatures evolved to respond to the chemicals around them. It was a matter of survival.
The Proustian Effect
Marcel Proust, in his novel in seven volumes, “In search of lost time” or “Remembrance of things past,” as it’s best known, nails the phenomenon of involuntary memory.
“No soon had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin.”
In this famous passage from the novel, the narrator sips on tea with crumbs from a madeleine cake and childhood memories are flooding back.
Proust defines involuntary memory as “cues encountered in everyday life that evoke recollections of the past without conscious effort.” It is widely known as “The Proustian effect” because Proust managed to share his narrator’s emotions accurately with the reader. He describes the frustration the narrator feels when familiar flavors touch his palate and he’s overcome by a feeling of nostalgia.
The Takeaway
So, that sunny day in a bookshop somewhere in Greece, my young nose picked up that characteristic scent emanating from the books and my brain has registered that smell as part of a loving memory ever since.
There’s something extraordinary in this and I can’t help but admire the way our complex brain works.
References: How Smells Trigger Memories, by SciShow
