BLUE CATS AND CHARTREUSE KITTENS: How Synesthetes Color Their Worlds

Synesthesia, the phenomenon whereby one sense is stimulated and another also responds—i.e., when words have colors or tastes have shapes—is not newly discovered (Rimbaud, Liszt and Nabokov were famously synesthetic), but the condition has hardly been discussed, much less systematically researched. Scientists think it may occur when language centers in the brain mingle among some of the visual processing sites in the cerebral cortex. Duffy, a synesthete herself, endeavors to bring attention to this fascinating type of perception and raises some questions. Is it, for instance, genetically transmitted? The Nabokov family would make it seem so. Why do many children (one half to one third of whom are synesthetic) lose the facility once abstract language takes over? Will knowing more about synesthesia improve the human condition? Instead of attempting to answer these questions through scientific knowledge, Duffy is intent on describing the experiences of famous synesthetes: chapters on lesser-known composers and artists whose creativity is fueled by synesthesia are less compelling than, say, the passage on David Hockney's peculiarly striking relationship to color. Feel-good spiels are kept to a minimum, although Duffy occasionally lapses into reverence for her subjects' profundity, creativity or spirituality. (Nov. 6)