Bereavement and the Sentimental Object

Andi Harriman

MTJW 724 – Spring 2011

Ownership of a sentimental object is not about materiality or consumerism,

nor does it imply presumptuous or ostentatious representations of wealth. It

involves the potency of an object within the realm of the self, a bond quite

unfathomable to those outside of the interior sphere of the owner. Personal value of

the sentimental object is embedded in the structure of nostalgia and memory –

when elevated in the course of mourning for a loved one the object becomes a

component to the process of healing. Souvenirs, keepsakes and heirlooms envelop

private narratives, ones that can only be signified those intimately involved with the

object. Because the owner defines the personal value of the object from experiences

and memories, others are unaware of its psychological foundation, which creates a

sequestrated shield to those unbeknownst. This structure of intimacy within the

sentimental is built from the discourse of public and private space. Through this, the

practice of private isolation as a reaction to mourning can be concealed internally

even though the object retains its outward appearance of public display. Mourning

of the deceased is not only imbued within the object itself – the act of making the

object creates opportunity for the survivor to lament, temporarily allowing the hand

to react instead of the brain. Progressive steps towards healing are fulfilled upon

the memorializing of the absent through the creation of an object – it signifies the

intimate time spent during the release of working. Grief and renewal, mourning and

memorialization, along with the separation of public and private realms are all

factors within the sentimental object; from the relationship of the present and

absent, stories are transferred through the sentimental by building complex layers

of meaning.

Intimacy implies isolation, a solitary moment or a contained experience with

few components involved. Suzanne Ramljak explores the intimate object in her

essay “Intimate Matters: Objects and Subjectivity”, writing that objects or events of

the intimate form assist in strengthening bonds within the self; this empowerment

wills the psyche to fortify the inner body from outside influence (190). Secretive

objects, Ramljak says, “[represent] an extreme form of privacy, and, as such, can

engender a powerful sense of knowingness and self sufficiency” (190). The

engagement with the sentimental object is increased by the tactile quality it beholds

and the ability to embrace and to interact with the item recollects remote memories

of the absent. Isolatory interaction strengthen the private intimacy and sacredness

of an object and in return, the self builds fortitude against lingering sorrow.

The practice of mourning within society seems to mirror certain aspects of

the intimate object. As a reaction to death, there are three categories the survived

must attain as a societal standard. J. Todd DuBose, author of “The Phenomenology

of Bereavement, Grief and Mourning”, says the first stage is bereavement, which is

simply the moment of the death of a loved one (368). Grief follows as the emotional

response to the precedence of bereavement, while mourning is the more public

expression of loss; it is the act of endurance and the ability to carry on one way or

another (Dubose 368). “The body is seen as a container to be emptied and filled.

Moreover, the body is viewed as a self-contained capsule, or better yet, a self

inhabited capsule. Bereavement takes place outside the body, grief takes place

inside the body, and mourning takes place inside the body as it reacts to the outside

world” (Dubose 369). Quite similarly, an object, such as a pair of eyeglasses once

belonging to the deceased, become a container of memories upon the instant of

bereavement. The collected moments involving the object are encapsulated

signifiers of an irreplaceable history that the eyeglasses now embody. The

eyeglasses, though once belonging to a loved one, have changed its identity. They

now become a precious object of meaning that project memories onto those who

remember the absent individual who once interacted with the glasses by wearing

them, folding them into their shirt pocket or placing them on top of the daily

newspaper. Those unfamiliar with the eyeglasses’ psychological properties might

perceive the item as simply an orphaned object stripped of its functionality. This

change represents the rationalization of the human mind, the interpersonal

significance of inward grief and an outward display – both containing separate

meanings.

The personal narrative of an object defines its value; none is more exemplary

than the souvenir in order to express this conundrum of human instinct to transport

memories. Susan Stewart, author of On Longing, believes that the souvenir, like all

intimate objects, cannot function without an imbued narrative constructed by

adjoining participants (136). Significance of the object is created and without this

interplay, meaningfulness of a souvenir is lost (Stewart 136). The significance of

Stewart’s statement resonates in the souvenir of the deceased – the objects that

carry on their former owner’s remnants of life. Stewart says the heirloom becomes

the souvenir of the dead in which “the mere material remains of what had possessed

human significance” is portrayed (Stewart 140). The transformation of the

heirloom converts meaning into materiality while the souvenir marks materiality to

meaning (Stewart 140). Thus, the heirloom contains meaning before the materiality

of the object is considered while the souvenir is an empty container that is required

to be filled with personal significance.

Valued possessions are items we keep close and hold dear; they are the items

we relate to our individuality and personal being. Eyeglasses, for example, though

functional to the owner, are indicators of personality through its color, shape and

size. E.H. Cameron calls the desire to own an object an “instinctive human trait, a

universal and hereditary characteristic of mankind” (156). The accumulation of

certain objects influences a person’s feeling of worth and is in a real sense the inner

workings of our selves (Cameron 163). And it is no surprise that people bond closely

to objects that remind them of past experiences. Objects, like a coffee cup inscripted

with the words “Graceland” can have a surfaced, superficial meaning to the public

viewer: it’s Elvis’ former home and burial site. But to the owner of the object, the

intimate importance of the mug provides psychological stimulation through its

inherited memory – it could represent a gift from an individual now deceased. This

interplay of the public versus private value of a cherished possession draws on the

inconspicuous nature of a sentimental object’s worth.

The old 1960’s Singer sewing machine that sits in the corner of my room

with its wobbly legs and nicked wooden table has become an object of such value.

My grandmother bequeathed it to me when she bought a new sewing machine

because, maybe only subconsciously, she knew how important it was for me to own

the old Singer. On that machine, she taught me how to follow a pattern, how to

backstitch, and how to master the speed of the needle by controlling the

temperamental pedal. Those experiences heightened any formal definition of the

sewing machine from its intended function as an object. With its dings and

scratches, the old Singer would probably have little value to those outside of my

private life. But personally, the monetary worth of the sewing machine is almost

priceless. Marsha Richins in her article, “Public and Private Meanings,” believes that

these special objects are sacred memories and experiences that can no longer be

lived and are encapsulated in the irreplaceable object (505). Even with an exact

replica, the replacement could never sustain the memory of the former object

(Grayson 17). The dents in the wood and the patinaed surface of the brass handle on

the sewing machine are scars from lived moments surrounding it. I am reminded of

its functionality through memory – the physical interaction of the object from the

past as well as the psychological intimate interaction of the present.

Many individuals from my family have experienced a moment set around the

old Singer and perhaps the sight of the sewing machine would catapult stories from

each person’s childhood involving my grandmother. A shared experience can arise

within objects – the involvement of multiple persons creates additional

sentimentality of an object through the communal and individual experiences with

the object. The collected narrative, for example a memory quilt, is created from

signifiers of memories passed. The impact of storytelling instilled in each remnant

square begins to evolve into a mythical artifact within the family. This

transcendence from object to artifact develops “psychic energy” which is otherwise

known as the directed efforts of energy put forth upon an object (Belk 144). The

layering of meaning, like fabric squares used within a memory quilt, invokes the

psychic energy to thrive. Through this process, the object becomes detached from

its historic origins and is “replaced by supernatural powers legitimated through

family stories and myths” (Curasi, Price and Arnould 610). Repetition of storytelling

in relation to the object is essential in the longevity of psychic energy; the rehearsal

of these stories help to assure the sentimental endorses a social order

acknowledged from generation to generation (Curasi, Price and Arnould 616). The

more psychic energy a person invests into an object, a more sacred build up of

nostalgia occurs which assists in heightening the overall importance of the object

(Grayson 23). Therefore, unlike an heirloom, which is historically centralized, the

ability of the object to possess such an abundant psychic energy allows the item to

become a family artifact.

It is by no accident that certain heirlooms, souvenirs and keepsakes are

passed down to the survived – family and personal relics, photographs and objects

of particular importance are offered to loved ones. The items bequeathed to the

survived are symbolic to the past life of the deceased, becoming objects of the

extended self (Belk 150). The narrations of the deceased’s life are retained in such

objects of value that help to contribute in the development of character. This is

primarily done because objects are the only remaining symbols of how a person

wants to be perceived and remembered. Artifacts that portray idealized identities of

ones self is known as an “identity kit” which is a strategical performance in

collecting objects that are symbolic to his or her legacy (Unruh 340). The careful

planning of an identity kit reveal how the dying desires to be remembered: as a

nurturer, businessman, or spiritual person, for example.

When the dying, who are individuals usually in the later stages of life,

consider their legacy and the completion of a collection that integrates personal

achievements and experiences. The preservation of personal identity becomes

accepted by the survived and is defined through the objects bequeathed to them

(Unruh 340). Heather Whitmore studied extensively on elders’ route of identity

preservation through their possessions in the essay “Value That Marketing Cannot

Manufacture: Cherished Possessions as Links to Identity and Wisdom.” Within her

research she found that possessions of older generations remain concrete

representations of their achievements and social relationships (Whitmore 59).

These connections are lost social and personal objects that link to their identity –

mainly items of greatest importance are ones that support their legacy of life

experiences (Whitmore 59). Elders, in their quest to preserve identity, keep

mementos of events that retain “feelings of self-continuity” through objects such as

colanders, diplomas or even hand-made shelves (Whitmore 60). Within the active

collecting of symbolic objects, the elderly are forced to believe that their keepsakes

will become sacred for many subsequent generations to follow.

The potency of memory preservation in owning a sentimental object can be

reinforced by the act of creating an object during the mourning process. By

distilling memories, the handmade object is no longer a “thing” – it possesses

psychological significance. These indicators can be represented through the

importance of familial heritage. Russell W. Belk in the essay, “Possessions of the

Extended Self”, believes that “possessions are a convenient means of storing the

memories and feelings that attach our sense of past” (148). For example, an

heirloom recalls family heritage much like a national monument that memorializes

the nation’s history (Belk 148). Heirlooms are objects that become relics to

symbolize former generations that are now gone from the physical world. Similar to

a monument, an heirloom commemorates heritage and ancestry. Objects that are

handcrafted by the deceased are extremely relevant in the heirloom as sacred

object. The creator retains identity to the object as long as it remains associated to

the maker (Belk 150). With the time taken to construct a quilt, a stool or a

dollhouse, intimacy and dedication of the self involvement in the completion of the

object becomes attached to an individual’s self and identity.

A sense of family history is enriched by the continuation of a skill particular

to generations past – the inheritance of a lifestyle or career path is a sacred process.

By accrediting ancestry through the act of making, the craft learned becomes a

bridge between the veil of life and death, bringing those survived much closer to the

deceased with the participation of in the skill-set taught or valued by the absent.

Similar to the sentimental, the act of making can bring about memories of loved

ones, like a keepsake that transports the owner to an experience that has become

sacred. Sonya Clark, a fibers artist, acknowledges her ancestors as the igniters of

her passion for craft. Clark treats her skill much like an heirloom – a cherished

possession that connects her to her childhood memories. The wisdom of the hands

that once wrought tools of a craftsperson motivate her desire to continue in the

intimate conversation between the hand and the medium (Halper 39). She says, “it

is to this notion and legacy that I dedicate my own making: the hands that preceded

me, those of my ancestors known and unknown, wise and knowledgeable hands, the

hands that imbued objects with their stories” (Halper 39). Again, the empowerment

and psychic energy of mythical storytelling accelerates interest from the survived to

infuse meanings into the object, or in this case, the act. Most importantly, Clark’s

craft memorializes her grandmother who inspired her to become the craftsperson

she has excelled in today. “Yet every time I thread a needle, the memory of her is

conjured. For a moment, I am ten again, at her knee, hearing her voice. Once the

medium is engaged, the stories rush in and her presence is felt” (Halper 39). Clark’s

hands, through the act of making, become the capsule and conjure ghostly memories

of cherished experiences during her youth.

The craftsperson, as a maker of objects, understands the relationship of the

hand to the head and heart. Immanuel Kant said, “The hand is the visible part of the

brain” (Clark 39). Making as a response to the mourning of a loved one helps in

coping with the trauma of loss while promoting the ability to accept death. A fibers

artist, Lois Bryant, began to focus solely on her weaving during the mourning

process of her deceased daughter as a “way of getting on with life without

abandoning the past” (42). While keeping the hands busy, the mind is allowed to

become numb or to sift through memories of the deceased. During the experience of

making, the self has composed its own being of presence and absence – the body

chooses what is present for the activity and what is free of emotional weight

(DuBose 370). Bryant claims this repetition and continuance of her weaving “helped

to get her through the darkest of days” (43). In the case of making as healing, the

craftsperson’s head can be absent from the process and is able to simply trust the

wisdom of their own hands.

The effort of distracting the grief that occupies the mind during the healing

process can be numbed by disrupting the harshness of reality through the outlet of

creativity. In the essay “The Work of Mourning”, the French author Georges Perec is

discussed as a writer who found consolation from working through his own grief.

His mother died in Auschwitz while his father was killed as a soldier in the war,

leaving him an orphan and left with a burden of sorrow that remained with him for

the rest of his life (Motte 56). Perec’s sustained mourning was evident in his

writings, which provided a source of emotional healing if only as a means to carry

on with his own life. Perec undertook in work as a tool to cope (Motte 58). “It

presents itself as effort, as labor, as toil, and as behavior that is above all purposeful.

Perec seeks an active engagement with his grief, recognizing that, if left unattended

and undirected, it would threaten to cripple him” (Motte 58). In text from Perec’s W

Ou le Souvenir D’enfance, his necessity for writing as a means of survival is

projected:

I write: I write because we lived together, because I was one amongst

them, a shadow amongst their shadows, a body close to their bodies. I

write because they left me in their indelible mark, whose trace is

writing. Their memory is dead in writing; writing is the memory of

their death and the assertion of my life (Motte 61-2).

Fortitude against sadness comes from the act of erecting pieces of work; the ability

to prevail in the battle of grief exists as a solitary exercise of the self.

However, the actions of the survived are supplemented in order to continue

daily life. The response to bereavement, both inward grief and outward mourning,

are treated differently – both within the private sphere and societal structures.

None the more ostentatious and dramatic is the Victorian era; death and grief

became romanticized by the mourning process and had cultivated into a public

necessity. Outside of the house where death had occurred, the blinds were drawn,

black crepe was tied in great bows on the doors’ brass knockers and the

processional routes were lined with the crepe as well (Curl 7). Such display of

mourning became a ritual within the Victorian age – if families did not participate,

no matter the class, it was disrespectful to the dead as well as the community (Curl

7). It was during this time that mourning jewelry became in vogue, as a way of

representing the deceased through adornment.

Though decorative and indicative of mourning to others, the personal

implications the jewelry held evolved into deeply private symbols that addressed

the survivor’s loss and memorialized the deceased. The miniature portrait,

specifically, became the purveyor of such ideas. These small-scale works of art

embodied the intimacy of jewelry by its outward public display that was also

embedded with private meaning, immortalizing a loved one. In the book Love and

Loss, Robin Jaffee Frank says the portrait replaced the public language that was

missed in order to express an individual’s loss (123). “Mourning miniatures express

a private grief in a public language that was understood by the mourner’s family,

friends and neighbors” (Frank 123). Even though such grandiose symbols of

mourning are no longer practiced, the necessity of the object remains constant

through history. Mourning jewelry encompassed nostalgia for moments preceded

as they also encompassed a private yearning for what has been lost – similar to the

role of the heirloom or keepsake.

The advent of mourning jewelry in the mid-19th century enhanced the

psychological value of a pendant or locket, protecting what wished to be hidden

while exposing the fact that the wearer was performing the outward display of

mourning. Marcia Pointon, in the article “Surrounded by Brilliants: Miniature

Portraits in Eighteenth-Century England”, attests to the fact that the psychological

functionality of the portrait miniature oscillated between the self and the absent; it

refined the immediacy of memory and fashioned a longing for the person depicted

within the portrait (63). In order to complete the function of the portrait miniature,

the implication of distance between the owner and the embodied image is essential

in its sacred narrative (Pointon 63). The object, being held and gazed at, sets up the

fluctuation “between affirmative self recognition and the frustration of the

disunified body” (Pointon 63). The gaze of the owner can only be temporarily

satisfied by the depiction of the absent presented on the miniature and its comfort

facilitates the pain of disconnect. Jewelry’s ability to be held increases the intimacy

of the miniature – whether worn on the body for public display or held in the palm

of the hand to caress. Even though adornment of the body focalizes in attracting the

attention of others, sentimental jewelry shields the viewer from complete

understanding, thus recognizing the intimate psychological interaction between the

deceased and the survived.

Within the contemporary jewelry realm, the concept of mourning jewelry has

almost completely faded into the pages of historical jewelry books, leaving the

outward emotion and significance of mourning to be a concealed and internal

practice completed by the individual. The modern standards of mourning have

completely shunned the communal practices of the Victorian era, allowing

unsatisfactory time for the heart to heal. As an artist or maker, the time spent at the

bench, in the studio, and within a sketchbook become a time of solitude and inner

peace. Jewelry artist, Constanze Schrieber, elevated the act of making one step

further. By appropriating the functionality of mourning jewelry in the Victorian era,

Schreiber translated the power that resonated from the mourning jewelry of past

and began to challenge the lack of outward grief in contemporary society. The result

of the concept was fleshed out in Abschiedsfest, where she included symbols of

mortality, such as skulls, in addition to applying symbolic value to her process.

Schreiber’s intensely personal pendant, Portrait I, exemplifies this progression (Fig.

1). The porcelain pendant was constructed with two cast silver horns attached on

either side. When the piece was fired, the silver melted into the cracks of the

porcelain pendant, dissolving the silver that once existed and filled in errors of the

porcelain’s surface (Schreiber). Conceptually, when knowing the process in her

creation of the necklace, the viewer can understand her need to dissipate her pain

and fill in the indentations from the void once filled by a loved one. A personal

memory creates preciousness in the act and the finalization of creating an object

(Schreiber). The memory of the pre-fired horns became a private narrative shared

intimately with the self. The outward symbolic worth of Portrait I provides

symbolic imagery for the viewer while fulfilling Schreiber’s private conversation as

means to mourn.

Jewelry is an intimate object on its own – its scale, small in nature, is easily

carried with the body. It provides a direct form of bodily contact, concealed or

revealed, its meanings differentiating between public and private conversations.

Jewelry makers understand the idea of intimacy in relation to the body, enhancing

its isolated symbol of private functionality. In “Sentimental Cuts,” this idea is

exposed in saying “the ambiguous structure of revealed function and hidden story is

condensed in the jewelry because it exposes the value of the object and connects it

to the intimate sphere of the body” (Holm 140). The participants within this private

conversation conduct a secretive form of seclusion from others (Holm 140). The

sentimental value of jewelry seems to be a unique object of sacredness; jewelry

provides both private isolatory moments with displaying public adornment.

Finding the balance of psychological comfort through such objects while still

maintaining the public mourning ritual all belong in the process of healing.

Bereavement cuts deep into the soul, but the object is the bandage on the

incision of grief – it comforts and partakes in storytelling as a means to heal. The

value, condition or age of an object is irrelevant when considering its preciousness

and inherited sacredness. As triggers of memory, a certain few sentimentals stitch

together time – the past and present are once again reunited after the loss of a loved

one. The sewing machine not only reminds me of my grandmother, but of her love

for making things which, in turn, confirms my decision to be a maker as well. From

making objects, I am memorializing her memory and by keeping bits of her

extended self within my private sphere, I feel that she is close by, snipping off loose

threads and winding her bobbin.

Fig 1. “Portrait I by Constanze Schreiber.” Constanze Schreiber. Web. 20 May 2011. < http://www.constanzeschreiber.com/site/en/2/18/5>.

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