1% Compression
A summary is maybe 1% of the original, but notably it loses all of the source—this is what defines the flat blurb, the just-in-time factoid. A functional interpretation.
A compression is different in that it can only draw from the source. I’m finding that 40-70% compressions reduce length but increase information density.
What would a 1% compression look like? In a 10,000 word essay, which 100 words might contain the smallest fractal of the whole, both in terms of substance and style? This doesn’t amount to selecting your favorite paragraph, but finding your favorite 5-10 sentences from across a piece, and stitching them together, so that the kernel of the idea, the thing that’s likely to remain after the brutal compression of memory, is right there in front of you.
For every essay I read, what if I required myself to make that 1% compression? What if I returned to that list often, quickly refreshing the way a piece moved me. Would I actually remember them over time? Would I actually enact those lessons and change my life?
I wonder if there’s both an expansion and compression arc that’s required to fully get something: XS>S>M>L>XL>L>M>S>XS. You start small to even build intrigue to enter a text (ie: a recommendation from a friend); maybe you read smaller compressions, and gradually build up to the XL full version, with all the footnotes, annotations, and liner notes. But then there’s an equally necessary process of unwinding, of distilling and compressing what you uniquely take away from something—perhaps an aphorism; a souvenir on your shelf that is lodging into your working memory each morning.