Prosopagnosia. Let me repeat that. Prosopagnosia. Rolls off the tongue doesn’t it? Rhymes with ambrosia, the food of the gods though without the divine effects. It is in fact face blindness or the inability to recognise people’s faces and is suffered among others by Joanna Lumley, Stephen Fry and Brad Pitt.
Lumley recounts a story where she was at a party, asked someone if they wanted another glass of wine and went off to get it. She then came back and forgot who she was talking to as the face had not registered. Maybe she should focus like men on other parts of the body such as breasts. Men, as women know, often use this trick. The next time a woman accuses you of looking at her breasts just claim Prosopagnosia. It’s a bit of mouthful but it could prevent a slap in the face. I once had a colleague who swore he could remember a woman’s tits (yes, that was the word he used) better than her face. Not sure what that condition is called but I am open to suggestions.
In extreme Prosopagnosia people cannot even recognise themselves in a picture, which suggests they cannot recognise themselves in a mirror. There are definitely days when I suffer that. My children look at pictures of me as a young man and cannot believe it is me but then again I am not the man I was 30 years ago. Funny that.
I, on the other hand, do not seem to suffer this problem. I remember faces but not the names. I have all sorts of women saying hello to me and I think ‘yes, seen you before but who the hell are you? You are not family so you must be one of my wife’s friends.’ They proceed to kiss me so mustn’t grumble. It’s not often a woman kisses me. In this situation it helps that my wife is on the other extreme of Prosopagnosia: a Super Recogniser. After 33 years together I no longer have to prompt my wife for the name. As she sees me socially groping in the dark with a stunned look on my face, she waits for the woman to look away and quickly just whispers her name in my ear.
This of course makes me very popular among my male friends as I then pass on the name. There is a veritable conger-line of my male friends waiting for the name. It is why at parties there is so much furtive whispering among men. I am told by my daughters this not an age thing as they have to do the same with their boyfriends. ’Tis but one of many male afflictions or deficiencies depending on your gender disposition. Am I allowed to mention gender anymore?