It has been some time since I’ve posted an update to my memory-related reading. Here is a handful of additional reviews. (I don’t think I’ve duplicated anything from previous posts, but apologies if that occurred. And, as always, your opinions may not match my own!)
BOOKS DISCUSSED:
Master Your Memory, Tony Buzan
Speed Memory, Tony Buzan
Use Your Perfect Memory, Tony Buzan
The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture, Mary Carruthers
The Medieval Craft of Memory, Mary Carruthers and Jan M. Ziolkowski
Mnemonic Methods, Robert Fludd (translated by Paul Ferguson)
Memory Craft, Dr. Lynne Kelly
The Mind of a Mnemonist, A.R. Luria
Pick on Memory Culture, Edward Pick
Aristotle on Memory, Richard Sorabji
The Memory Palace of Matteo Ricci, Jonathan D. Spence
Master Your Memory, Tony Buzan
This is more focused than many memory books, highlighting linking/peg systems along with the Major System but mostly emphasizing something Buzan calls SEM3—or, the “Self-Enhancing Master Memory Matrix.” (Why do so many memory authors come up with such ridiculous-sounding systems?) Essentially, SEM3 is a way to expand one’s 1,000-image peg/link system by adding various layers of sensory data to the original images: smell, taste, touch, animals, birds, colors, “sensations,” and more. So, 0-999 would focus on visual cues. You could then give those same pegs/links new life by going back and adding, say, birds to every image, giving you another 1,000 linking images, and so on. This gets us to page 35.
Pages 35-193 are devoted to material that Buzan believes is worth memorizing, including famous artists, composers, writers, countries/capitals, the red wines of Bordeaux, the plays of Shakespeare (complete with lists of the characters), and the kings and queens of England. How useful these lists will be for the reader will depend entirely on how interested they are in the subjects being featured and how willing they are to make allowances for some outdated information—the book was published in 1988, when Pluto still was a planet, for example—and cultural biases. (For example, the writers are nearly all white, male, western Europeans. But even then some choices are baffling: Benjamin Franklin, one of the few Americans, makes the cut, even though no one is likely to think of him as a “writer.” Tolstoy, Chekhov, and Dostoyevsky, however, do not make the cut.)
The book concludes—weakly, in my opinion—with a short story by Jorge Luis Borges, “Funes, the Memorious,” which Buzan teases may be a true account and not fiction after all. It doesn’t really matter. The story, which to my tastes is a rather uninteresting and rambling slice-of-life portrait, contributes little to the value of this book.
Unlike Dominic O’Brien’s books, I never get the sense from Buzan’s books that he has actually tested and used the techniques he promotes. There are never any personal examples, never any anecdotes. For that reason, I don’t really buy the whole premise behind SEM3, that you can easily add all of these various shadings to existing images to automatically multiply them. When I have attempted something similar, it only caused confusion when trying to decipher which “layer” I was seeing. Perhaps that’s just me. If this kind of system works for you, this may be an inspiring resource. If so, you also may want to pick up Memory Vision, a supplemental workbook intended to accompany Master Your Memory. There is almost no actual narrative text in the book; it’s a collection of fill-in-the-blank lists for coming up with thousands of peg words.
Speed Memory, Tony Buzan
True to its title, Speed Memory jumps right in without introduction. After outlining the current (circa 1977) understanding of learning and recall, Buzan offers several short memory tests, so readers can gauge their own natural memory. Then follows a series of mnemonic “systems,” ranging from the basic peg, link, and story methods to shape and rhyme systems for numbers, and the Major System. He provides Major suggestions for 1-1000 and a system for memorizing a deck of playing cards. Unless I overlooked it, there is no mention of memory palaces at all.
In keeping with the author’s penchant for promoting challenging and unwieldy-named systems, he actually features something called the Skipnum system more prominently than the Major System. (Despite the spelling, “Skipnum” is supposed to stand for Self-Coding Instant Phonetic Number Memory.) Your mileage may vary, but I cannot imagine many people choosing this system over Major or Dominic when it comes to numbers.
Here’s how it works, in Buzan’s words:
“1. The initial letter of the memory word”—that is, the word you picture that represents the number you wish to recall—“is the same as the initial letter of the number which is attached to that word. For example the numbers from 60-69 all begin with an ‘s,’ and therefore so do the memory words for the numbers from 60-69.
“2. The vowel sound of the memory word is the same as the vowel sound of the unit digit in the number for which we are making the word.”
By way of example, Buzan describes the process for remembering the number 91. “The first letter is ‘n.’ The digit number in 91 is 1, and its vowel sound is ‘uh.’ To complete our memory word for 91 we simply have to complete ‘nuh.’ A ‘t’ or an ‘n’ completes this most satisfactorily giving us ‘nut’ or ‘nun.’”
If that sounds like speed memory to you, then you’re much more capable than I.
There may be nuggets of useful information here, but if you’ve read any other comprehensive book of memory techniques, it will likely be redundant.
Use Your Perfect Memory, Tony Buzan
This is a comprehensive guide to basic memory techniques, along with a brief (and not well-documented) look at the science of memory and the brain, including some statements that have since been questioned or disproved. But that’s hardly the fault of the text, which was published in 1984 and updated in 1990.
In my opinion, there are two weaknesses, one minor and one major. The less-troublesome is an over-reliance on the “power” of mind maps for memory (this is Buzan’s pet tool). I’m not a fan; perhaps they remind me too much of diagramming sentences in school or the “brainstorming” white-board diagrams that typified some long meetings. The second issue is a nearly complete refusal to explore memory palaces. Buzan devotes a page and a half to describing a “Roman Room,” but he defines this as a wholly imaginary space, not something known intimately in the real world. And he never suggests the power of storing information in such a place; all future memory work discussed in the book is based on linking/peg systems and the Major system.
It’s safe to say, in fact, that linking/peg systems are at the heart of this book, with Buzan mentioning shapes, rhymes, and an alphabet system. These are fine systems, albeit basic and introductory. But I found his approach to the alphabet baffling: He recommends associations that start with the sound of the letter, not the letter itself. So, the association for L doesn’t start with an L; it starts with an el. To me, that’s bizarre and not at all intuitive. Buzan never explains why he’s recommending this approach.
There are some useful tips here, even though some of them don’t feel fully “lived-in” by the author’s own experience, feeling more like ideas that maybe should work but haven’t actually been tested in the real world. For readers of the iPhone age, there’s too much space devoted to outdated needs: memorizing phone numbers, keeping a mental calendar, knowing the day of any date in the 20th century. And there’s some easily skipped filler. What there isn’t much of at all: Tony Buzan himself. He offers no personal insight into his own memorizing and shares nothing about himself, short of the obligatory “I had a terrible memory as a child” lines. Reading it about 35 years after it was published, it hasn’t aged well in light of the books that have come since. Skimmable.
The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture, Mary Carruthers
Building upon the legacy of Frances Yates’s groundbreaking The Art of Memory (while occasionally challenging some of Yates’s conclusions and emphases), Carruthers presents an academic study of memory in medieval culture that ranges from the medieval understanding of memory’s neuropsychology to memory’s relationship to books and reading. She is occasionally corrective, addressing the differences between a medieval mindset and a modern understanding of the world that might skew a contemporary interpretation of the original texts. She also tries to bring clarity to texts that have been particularly challenging for earlier translators.
Not all of this content will appeal to all memory enthusiasts, of course. This is a deep and, again, academic dive into the topic that often sent me to my dictionary and forced me to come to terms with the author’s frequent use of untranslated Latin. That said, I found Carruthers’s tone enjoyable, sometimes even playful, and the text overall much more reader friendly than Yates’s. (I cannot imagine The Art of Memory spending a paragraph comparing the digestion of information in memory to the farting and belching of monks.)
Chapters three and four—“Elementary Memory Design” and “The Arts of Memory”—were particular standouts for me in terms of their background information and potential for modern memory application. They are highly recommended for anyone interested in the history and use of memory techniques.
The Medieval Craft of Memory, Mary Carruthers and Jan M. Ziolkowski
This is an anthology of memory writings (and associated drawings) primarily from 1000-1500, almost exclusively the work of religious teachers, scholar-preachers, and clergy. So virtually every piece here is focused on memorizing for religious teaching/preaching or moral edification, with the Bible and church teachings as the foundation.
While there are some interesting ideas here—and the introductions to each section are themselves worth the price of the book—I found many of the selections largely skimmable due to the writers’ fondness for delivering overwhelming amounts of text featuring superstitious beliefs, grossly outdated world views, primitive medical knowledge, and redundant philosophical digressions more than actual memory techniques. Practical advice regarding memorization is rare. (Having said that, the focus on medieval art as it relates to memorizing sermons may be of interest to some modern readers, providing examples for creating one’s own “memory art” for triggering images.)
I am grateful for the scholarship and academic passion that led to these writings being translated into English, preserved, and collected. I’m glad to have been introduced to them and to their respective authors. But, if I’m being honest, overall I enjoyed the introductions more than the selections themselves (with only a few exceptions). They are very well-written and feature extensive citations and bibliographic information for further study.
Recommended only if you have a serious interest in medieval church history and/or medieval mnemonic approaches within a religious context.
Mnemonic Methods, Robert Fludd (translated by Paul Ferguson)
This slender book brings into English Fludd’s two very short treatises on memory from his large and unfinished work Metaphysical, Physical, and Technical History of the Two Worlds, Namely the Greater and the Lesser,” which was composed in Latin and published in the early 1600s.
The fact that Fludd, a classically educated Englishman, was writing in Latin around the time of Shakespeare—when the English language was flourishing—hints at the man behind this work: He seems dedicated to making everything much more cumbersome than it needs to be. In part because of this, Mnemonic Methods ends up being little more than a historical curiosity.
There is practical information here for experienced mnemonists, but readers will have to dig through bafflingly unexplained images, an approach to memory-palace creation that struck me as patently absurd, and what seems like willful obfuscation to find it. And while some might take inspiration from his method for adding layer upon layer to a memory palace—using, in turn, a series of different colors, men, women, animals, and birds to identify loci—I suspect many will find Fludd’s methods unnecessary and his examples unhelpful and too focused on the ancient past to be useful guides today (based as they are on his emphasis on biblical and mystical imagery and mythology).
Ferguson seems to be of the mind that Fludd operated on a higher mystical plane and that’s why so much of his work seems obscure or even nonsensical to those who do not share his perspective. Based on these pages, I remain a skeptic.
Memory Craft, Dr. Lynne Kelly
This is, perhaps, the most wide-ranging exploration of memory techniques I’ve yet seen, combining all of the more common approaches with a new emphasis on the techniques used by indigenous peoples, as well as insights into the memory-palace potential of illuminated manuscripts, artworks, and architecture. Kelly also dives into the science of memory as well as some of the current research being done in terms of memory techniques/practice and their possible ameliorative effect on dementia. While I do wish, occasionally, that she would go into more depth and explanation in some areas (how she is storing information in her own massive, city-wide memory palaces; how, specifically, a lukasa is used to store memories), this is an extremely well-written and thought-provoking book on the many memory techniques available to memorizers today. It definitely rewards rereading. Essential.
The Mind of a Mnemonist, A.R. Luria
The subtitle—“A little book about a vast memory”—is quite accurate: This is easily digested within just a few hours, yet it presents some valuable insight of use to all memorizers.
The book is a psychologist’s summary of his work with an extraordinary patient whom he refers to only as “S” (despite the fact that the man refers to himself by name in the book and he was well-known in his native Russia).
S was born with what seems to be an extreme case of synesthesia, associating words and sounds with colors and tastes, all of which triggered detailed and highly realistic mental images that heightened his natural ability to remember. But he also was familiar with traditional memory techniques and did in fact rely on them in some situations (particularly when he was working as a stage mnemonist, in situations where the distractions and demands negatively affected his natural abilities).
S’s behind-the-scenes explanations of how he created extensive memory journeys—and how he memorized complex (and sometimes nonsensical) mathematical equations—provide valuable insight for all who want to improve their skills with memory palaces and with developing memorable images. (One deficiency: Luria describes S’s various uses of mnemonics as if S invented them, apparently ignorant of common memory techniques such as memory journeys. This is confirmed in Richard Sorabji’s introduction to Aristotle on Memory, where the author mentions writing to Luria and asking if he was aware that S’s approach was based on ancient memory techniques; Luria replied that he had no idea—an admission I find truly shocking in someone who is purportedly researching memory.)
Despite his use of memory techniques, there is no doubt that S’s innate abilities were special, with results beyond those possible with mnemonics alone. For example, he could recall memory journeys years later, without knowing he might need to when he created the journeys and with no review occurring during the intervening years. Tests that he took only once were recalled perfectly 15, 16, even 20 years later. (Ultimately, his unique facility for memory proved as much curse as blessing, as his synesthesia affected his ability to establish a career, understand and appreciate literature and music, and communicate easily with others.) Recommended.
Pick on Memory Culture, Edward Pick
Published in 1899 from a series of lectures, there is some entertainment value to the first third of this small book. However, after an historical review of some approaches to memorizing, along with a humorous newspaper reprint that drives home how ludicrous some of these ideas were, the content becomes largely skippable. For anyone who has learned either the Major or Dominic system for numbers, Pick’s approach will feel cumbersome. It gets worse when he shows how to remember facts and words. Nearly the entire second half of the book focuses entirely on languages, which gets mired in pointless minutiae that doesn’t have anything to do with memory techniques, with brief side trips into poetry and the Bible. While the first third is interesting and lighthearted, the rest will likely be of historical interest only. I don’t think I came away with a single piece of useful, practical advice.
Aristotle on Memory, Richard Sorabji
This is a useful but somewhat confounding book. Out of the 144 pages, Aristotle’s actual writing on memory and recollection account for, perhaps, 10 pages. The rest of the book is devoted to in-depth, multi-part introductions and—representing about half of the total page count—extensive and some might say exhaustive footnotes.
I found Aristotle’s very brief text far more philosophical than practical. Because I was searching for nuggets of practical memory advice, it was pretty much a bust.
That said, the introductory chapter that focuses on memory techniques is quite interesting, well written, and definitely worth reading. I can’t say it’s worth the cost of the book, though—which, currently, is $26.95 on Amazon—since the basic information will be well known to anyone who has read Rhetorica ad Herennium or the many books that cite its advice for creating memory palaces/journeys. But Sorabji brings a wide-ranging overview to the topic that is informed by Luria’s twentieth-century research (detailed in The Mind of a Mnemonist) as much as ancient Greek mnemonic techniques and medieval mnemonists. That was refreshing. And while deeply academic, his writing is also a pleasure to read—and that’s a rare combination in my experience.
The Memory Palace of Matteo Ricci, Jonathan D. Spence
This is a biography of Italian Jesuit missionary Matteo Ricci (1552-1610) rather than a book about memory. However, memory does play a part. Spence presents the story of Ricci’s life and work in China over the course of four topical sections echoing the arrangement Ricci used in his own memory palace for memorizing Chinese. In this way, the memory palace functions as an organizational framework for the biographical story rather than being a subject in itself.
Perhaps it goes without saying that this is an unusual way to write a biography. And, having no idea what I was getting into, I was surprised and, initially, disappointed in this approach. (The title didn’t quite feel like a bait-and-switch, but it was close.) However, in the end I found Ricci to be a fascinating character and Spence’s presentation to be entertaining, richly detailed, and exhaustively researched.
A sustained discussion of memory techniques and their application really only appears in two chapters, though. Chapter One, “Building the Palace,” offers an insightful discussion of Ricci’s memory palace as well as his memory-technique influences (a number of which seem to be largely unknown today). Chapter Five, “The Second Picture: The Road to Emmaus,” spends some time exploring Ricci’s use of memory techniques in his missionary work and his approach (not always successful) for introducing those techniques to a Chinese audience. Although they represented only a small fraction of the book, those sections—along with Spence’s extensive endnotes and bibliography—justified the cover price for me and earned the book a place on my memory-book shelf.