In the concluding chapter of 'The Five Senses,' Michel Serres reflects on his childhood, suggesting that few experiences rival the joy of bouncing on a sturdy mattress with resilient springs, until those springs yield and the fun abruptly ends. In mid-air, the body experiences a fleeting detachment from everything, even from itself, only to rebound once more. Up and down. The trampoline serves as a repository of memories, where our earliest somersaults and tumbles are stored: forward somersaults, backward somersaults, pike jumps, pancake rolls, standing, sitting, standing again, and the playful “cockroach.” Handstand forward rolls and backward rolls. Whether alone or with companions, the experience is heightened by bouncing in unison or in deliberate opposition, on this rhythmic apparatus that magnifies upward motion manifold. The body is propelled skyward, launched into the air, while the soul seems to be torpedoed, leaving behind any burdens on the ground. The landing is brief; before the feet can regain solid footing, the body springs upward once more. It is not the ground but the air that serves as the trampoline's dance partner.
In his memoir 'Reasonable People: A Memoir of Autism and Adoption,' Ralph Savarese recounts adopting his autistic son at the age of six. He constructed an indoor trampoline in their home, where his son, previously non-verbal, began to speak. The trampoline evolved into a rhythmic conduit linking language and movement. By elongating the natural floating sensation — essentially increasing the space between — his son could associate movement with language. Through rhythmic repetition (jumping, floating, landing, and repeating), language became ingrained within his body.
In an email, he writes:
When I adopted my son from foster care at the age of six (he had been sadistically abused), I built an indoor trampoline house where the trampoline was level with the floor. My wife and I strung words around the netted enclosure and quickly found that the trampoline acted as a kind of rhythmic taxi, delivering a regular beat and lots of proprioceptive feedback. Stationary, my son could not learn much of anything, but on the move…well, it made all the difference.
Movement is the catalyst for activating the language system. In the aforementioned example, the trampoline not only prolongs the sensation of floating but also introduces repetition and rhythm, both vital elements for initiating communication, including language acquisition. The underlying concept is that rhythmic patterns establish connections through motor skills to various brain regions housing perception, language, and emotion. Rhythm stimulates language and facilitates communication with others. As one speaks, the other listens. When one pauses, the other responds. These intervals of silence, akin to pauses in a musical composition, serve to connect and distinguish. There is significant meaning embedded within those moments of quiet contemplation.
Young children can still bring their bodies to ecstasy on their own: by running wildly, rolling down hills, by simply running. However, soon we need tools to achieve that dizziness. Trampolines, swings, slides, merry-go-rounds, inflatable cushions, and later on, roller coasters appear. These ingenious devices propel us forcefully into the air, cleverly utilizing the natural movement vocabulary of the bipedal creature: swinging, sliding, spinning, jumping, running, and falling. “Civilization sometimes makes little progress,” Serres asserts (p.318) because, according to him, the trampoline is a brilliant invention; he has found nothing that was more divine.