Mnemosyne was one of the Titans, daughter of Uranus and Gaea, and goddess of memory. She was also occassionally referred to as Mneme; however, this was the name of another goddess. She was the oracular goddess of the underground oracle of Trophonios in the region of Boeotia.
Zeus slept with Mnemosyne for nine consecutive days, eventually leading to the birth of the nine Muses. In Hesiod's Theogony, the kings and poets were inspired by Mnemosyne and the Muses, thus getting their extraordinary abilities in speech and using powerful words.
The name Mnemosyne was also used for a river in the Underworld, Hades, which flowed parallel to the river of Lethe (which means forgetfulness). Usually, the souls of the dead would drink water from Lethe, so that they would forget their past lives when they would be reincarnated. However, the souls of the novices were told to drink water from Mnemosyne. This myth may have been part of a small mystic religion or be tied to Orphic poetry.
Artists portray Mnemosyne but rarely seem to convey her character or attributes in a convincing way, failing to re-create the "person" as far as i can see ... some just use her name as a kind of coathanger for their own fantasy, which is perfectly legitimate ... but this is why she no longer inhabits the modern imagination
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mnemosyne
https://warburg.library.cornell.edu/about/aby-warburg
https://zkm.de/en/event/2016/09/aby-warburg-mnemosyne-bilderatlas
https://zkm.de/en/publication/aby-warburg-mnemosyne-bilderatlas-english
https://owlcation.com/humanities/The-Muses-The-Nine-Muses-Goddesses-of-Greek-Mythology
i first came across her name in this poem by the sweet sylvia kantaris ...
The Tenth Muse
My muse is not one of the nine nubile
daughters of Mnemosyne
in diaphanous nightshifts
with names that linger in the air
like scent of jasmine or magnolia
on Mediterranean nights.
Nor was any supple son of Zeus appointed
to pollinate my ear with poppy dust
or whispers of sea-spray.
My muse lands with a thud
like a sack of potatoes.
He has no aura.
The things he grunts are things
I’d rather not hear.
His attitude is ‘Take it or leave it, that’s
the way it is’, drumming his fingers
on an empty pan by way of music.
If I were a man I would enjoy
such grace and favour,
tuning my fork to Terpsichore’s lyre,
instead of having to cope with this dense
late-invented eunuch
with no more pedigree than the Incredible Hulk,
who can’t play a note
and keeps repeating ‘Women
haven’t got the knack’
in my most delicately strung and scented ear.
in japan's modern culture of assimilating and then transforming european myth, we get this gothic sadistic creation ...
i don't know if the surrealists identified her as their own in a deliberate way although surely paul delvaux, giorgio di chirico, and remedios varo, must have stopped to think about her attributes
the lamp ?
the wax tablet ?
moonlight ?
someone else points up the relationship between memory and architecture ...
https://newprairiepress.org/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=https://www.google.com/&httpsredir=1&article=1190&context=oz
mnemosyne and lethe were also mythical rivers, drink from one for remembering, or from the other for forgetting