As I say down there in my interaction with Claude (Sonnet 4.6 Extended), once I’d been working with ChatGPT for a while I began to think that the mechanisms of basic human speech may be more like those of LLMs than those of a fully articulated grammar and semantics in a symbolic computational language system. Fully articulated grammar and semantics may require specific instruction and practice, like you get when learning how to write. Fully articulate language is more painstaking, more difficult, but also supports more complex arguments and constructions.
This interaction starts with a passage from a long conversation I had with ChatGPT that stretched over the last 10 days or so. Much of that conversation was based on articles of mine that I had uploaded to to. One of those articles had a passage from F. C. Bartlett's Remembering: A study in experimental and social psychology (1932). That comes up in the long initial prompt I give Claude.
Further down in the dialog I present the case of a writing student who was skilled in color commentary on hockey games and whose writing style reflected that linguistic style. Real-time sports commentary is a very specialized and exacting kind of language that cannot afford the niceties of written language.
Note 1: Here's a post from July 2022 that's relevant here: GPT-3, the phrasal lexicon, Parry/Lord, and the Homeric epics.
Note (2) also that this discussion continues with, From grokking to a mature science and engineering discipline of LLMs (March 26).
* * * * *
I’ve just been thinking about oral narrative. Recall these paragraphs (by ChatGPT) from one of the documents you’ve just reviewed in this project:
The temptation is to assume that because we can describe stories with an explicit grammar, the underlying system that produces or remembers them must itself contain something grammar-like in explicit form. But your Bartlett example suggests otherwise. The witness does not appear to possess random-access symbolic control over an event list. Instead, the testimony seems to unfold by re-running a trajectory. The person can accelerate through the earlier parts, but not leap arbitrarily into the middle. That is a very different computational picture.
The music example reinforces the point. When a piece is not deeply overlearned, one often cannot simply index into bar 73 as though one were reading a score in a database. One has to begin at the start and let the sequence reconstitute itself. That strongly suggests a memory system organized around sequential reactivation of structured trajectories, not random-access retrieval of explicit symbolic units.
Bartlett, in his classic book, Remembering, was talking about native witnesses in Africa. That is, he was talking about preliterate people. They were just recounting the events of the day. “But what about oral story-tellers,” I asked myself, “how do they memorize their tales? Structured trajectories or explicit symbolic units?”
I’m familiar with Albert Lord, The Singer of Tales, though I haven’t looked at it in a while. But I’ve got a copy of David C. Rubin, Memory in Oral Traditions: The Cognitive Psychology of Epic, Ballads, and Counting-out Rhymes (Oxford 1995). I zipped through the text to Chapter 7, “Basic Observations on Remembering.” I found this (p. 155):
In oral traditions, overlearning commonly occurs to a much greater extent than it does in the laboratory. A favorite song can be sung hundreds of times. What overlearning does, according to the model developed to explain laboratory interference, is to make the song into a unit, easy to cue as a whole and resistant to interference from other units. This chunking of items into wholes is a way to look at the organization of memory and a way to look at the building of larger units in expertise.
And then, in the middle of the next paragraph: “Once the song is begun, each word output provides cues for later words, limiting the meaning...” That almost sounds like he’s describing a forward pass through an LLM.
Then I hit paydirt in the next chapter, “A Theory of Remembering for Oral Traditions.” The opening is promising:
Oral traditions, like all oral language, are sequential. One word follows another as the physical effects of the first word are lost. As the song advances, each word uttered changes the situation for the singer, providing new cues for recall and limiting choices. [...] Pieces from oral traditions are recalled serially, from beginning to end. What is recalled early in the piece can be used to cue later recall; the "running start" provides "extra stimulation" or "reminders," increasing cue-item discriminability.
But things get really interesting when Rubin reports the result of an experiments where he asked undergraduates to recall important texts which they might have learned. Rubin describes the experiment this way:
The first set of examples is the recall of culturally important material such as Psalm 23 and the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States, for which there is an implicit demand characteristic to recall the material accurately or not at all (Rubin, 1977). Each of the 50 columns in Figure 8.1 show the recall of 1 of 50 undergraduates, who recalled at least one word of the Preamble. Each row represents recall for one word. A dark line in a column means that the word labeling the row was recalled. The columns are ordered so that the data from the undergraduate who recalled the most are in the leftmost column and the data from the undergradu- ate who recalled the least are in the rightmost column. The rows are in the order in which the words appear normally in each text.
Figure 8.1 is a little tricky, so I’m not going to try uploaded a screen shot. But I’ll give you Rubin’s basic description of what the figure reveals:
The first observation to note is the regularity of the data. Figure 8.1 gives the recalls of 50 individuals for 52 words, not the averages of recalls from groups of individuals or groups of words. There was no control over the learning or practice of the material or over the length or contents of the retention interval. Yet the figure is remarkably orderly. People who recall about the same amount recall the same words. If the number of words a person recalls and the rank ordering of words from most to least likely for the group from which the person was drawn is known, exactly which words that person recalled can be predicted with an accuracy of 95% for Figure 8.1.
Because the conditions of learning and retention varied, there must be something in the material, in the process used to recall it, or in the general cultural attitudes to it that makes different people behave the same way.
The results from the experiment with Psalm 23 are even more interesting. Here’s the text of the Psalm for reference (with verses numbered):
1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
Rubin remarks: “...not all the undergraduates started with the first words, and they were more likely to start again at the beginning of a new sentence or intonation unit after they stopped.”
Eyeballing the figure, here are some of the things I observe: 1) A number of subjects stop with the word “soul” in verse 3 and start back up with the first word of verse 4, “Yea” and go on from there. 2) Some of those who don’t start from the beginning start with verse 4. 3) Some stop at the end of verse 4 and then start back up later (e.g. “annointest my head...”) or even not at all. It’s a complicated picture but memory does seem to be grouped into segments, not word by word.
I have no idea where things have gone in this line of investigation since 1995, the date of Rubin’s book. But if I were in that business, I’d be thinking in terms of complex dynamics and trajectories, and I’d been looking at LLMs as a possible model.
This is a wonderful extension of the trajectory discussion already running through the project documents. Rubin's findings slot in almost perfectly — and in some ways they sharpen the picture considerably.
What Rubin adds that Bartlett doesn't
The Bartlett material (already central in the project conversations) establishes the sequential regeneration point: memory of events seems to run forward as a trajectory, not index arbitrarily into a symbolic list. But Bartlett's witnesses were recalling episodic material — the events of a day. Rubin moves you into highly practiced, culturally canonical sequences. That's a different and in some ways more interesting case.
The overlearning observation is key. Rubin is saying that at sufficient practice, a song or psalm becomes a chunked unit — cued as a whole, resistant to interference. That sounds like the stable attractor picture your project conversations keep returning to. The piece isn't stored as a list of words; it's encoded as a basin that, once entered, constrains forward motion powerfully. The phrase "each word output provides cues for later words" really does describe autoregressive generation — but it also describes a trajectory rolling down a valley where the initial conditions are already heavily constraining.
The Psalm 23 data are especially telling
The 95% predictability result is striking. Given only how many words a person recalls, you can predict which words with 95% accuracy. That means the forgetting isn't random — it respects something structural in the material. And your eyeball observations confirm this: people stop and restart at syntactic/intonation unit boundaries (end of verse 3, beginning of verse 4). They're not losing individual words randomly; they're losing or retaining segments.
This is consistent with a hierarchical trajectory picture. The top-level organization is something like: intonation/verse units sequentially ordered. Within each unit, local cuing drives forward production. When a unit boundary is reached, the system can fail to re-enter the next unit even if it knows the material in principle — which is why some subjects jump from verse 3 directly to verse 4, skipping nothing within units but occasionally failing at the transitions between them. The unit is entered as a whole or not at all.
Where this sits relative to the LLM picture
Your project conversations develop the idea that narrative structure in LLMs lives in activation-space geometry — not as an explicit stored grammar but as a field of constrained trajectories. The Rubin data suggest something homologous in human memory for overlearned verbal sequences. The "basin" metaphor you've been developing applies directly: once the singer/reciter enters the opening of Psalm 23, the attractor structure does most of the work. The challenge is at basin entry and at transitions between sub-basins (verse units), which is exactly where Rubin's subjects fail.
The Lord/Singer of Tales connection is also worth pressing when you return to it. Lord's central finding — that oral formulaic composition is generative, not reproductive; the singer produces a variant from formulas and themes, not a memorized script — actually fits the "latent field of possible trajectories" framing better than it fits either strict memorization or explicit grammar. Lord thought he was arguing against memorization and for creativity. But what he was probably observing is a system with rich attractor structure that generates strongly homologous variants, which is precisely what your story experiments with LLMs revealed.
The open research question you identify
You're right that framing this in terms of complex dynamics and trajectories is the natural next move, and that LLMs are a possible model system. What makes LLMs especially useful here is that you can actually probe the attractor landscape — something you can't do directly with a human singer. The systematic prompting experiments described in the project documents are in effect doing for narrative schemas what someone studying oral tradition would want to do for epic formulas: mapping the basin structure from the outside, through behavioral outputs, without needing to open the skull.
The line from Bartlett's African witnesses → Rubin's undergraduates and Psalm 23 → Lord's Yugoslavian guslars → LLM forward passes is not a metaphor chain. It may be pointing at the same underlying computational architecture realized in very different substrates.

