Monday, November 5, 2012

A comment on memorization/ my poem.

Last weekend, I started reading a book for my thesis/ for fun called "How to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child" by Anthony Esolen. It's a fantastic read, and it goes well with Stevens' "How to Live and What to Do."

I was particularly struck with the passage on memory.
The author claims that in order to do away with imagination, we have to get rid of "Facts"-- and the

"first thing is to keep the memory weak and empty. . .that is because a developed memory is a wondrous and terrible storehouse of things seen and heard and done.  It can do what no mere search engine on the internet can do.  It can call up apparently unrelated things at once, molding them into a whole impression, or a new thought. . . Without the library of the memory-- which the Renaissance poet Edmund Spenser compared to a dusty room full of wonders in the attic of the mind, where a wise old man pores over his books, and a little boy called Anamnesis, "Reminder," sometimes has to climb a ladder to go fetch them-- the imagination simply does not have much to think about, or to play with" or in my view, the imagination doesn't have enough of the "real" base it needs.

We have been charged with memorizing a poem, and for some weeks, we've heard people give examples, reciting poems for us and showing us why we memorize things and words; and at the time, I always felt I understood, but explaining it has been difficult.  

I like Esolen's explanation above, but I hope when I get into a classroom, I can do a better job, but the whole thing reminds me of an organization I heard about called, Poetry Out Loud-- it's a national recitation contest for high school kids.  They have to memorize three poems and they get judged based on the difficulty, the length and performance.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SvNPQUeiHs This is one from a girl reciting "The Emperor of Ice Cream"- just to give a taste of what they do. it definitely goes against Esolen's "How to."

Moving on-
My poem is Disillusionment of Ten O' Clock, and I memorized it at work (I seem to do a lot of Wallace Stevens work at the library), and my co-worker tested me.  I recited it and then waited.  He didn't say anything and didn't say anything, and I was wondering if I did something wrong- his eyes are darting around the page, and he finally says, "What?" He rereads it.  "What??!" This is the same guy, who discovered the "Well Dressed Man with a Beard" with me weeks ago.  He asked, "You have to memorize this? It doesn't mean anything." And then I had to laugh and tell him that was Wallace Stevens.  I don't have much else there.  I just thought it was funny.