Here’s another round of reviews! As always, these are my opinions. Yours may differ. However, I’ve tried to be fair in my assessments and explain my conclusions.
Books Discussed:
Rhetorica ad Herennium, [Author Unknown]
Datas: The Memory Man, by Himself (William John Morris Bottle)
Memory: A Simple System of Memory Training, “Datas” (William John Morris Bottle)
How to Remember Anything, Mark Channon
The Hermetic Art of Memory, Alexander Dicsone (translated by Paul Ferguson)
The Memory Arts in Renaissance England, Edited by William E. Engel, Rory Loughnane, and Grant Williams
Solomon’s Memory Palace, Bob W. Lingerfelt
Quantum Memory Power, Dominic O’Brien
Rhetorica ad Herennium, [Author Unknown]
It’s possible you’ve already encountered all of the memory content in this book if you’ve read other books on memory already; it is extensively quoted throughout the literature. It is among the oldest known texts that describe memory techniques (written, in Latin, around 85BC), describing the basic principles of a memory palace that continue to be followed today.
This work is about rhetoric, of which memory plays only a small part. In fact, in my edition of the book (Loeb Classic Library, translated by Harry Caplan), the entire memory content accounts for only 11 pages. However, the author’s guidelines are clearly explained, logical, and well worth reading. Given it’s historical value and enduring impact, I believe it’s essential.
Datas: The Memory Man, by Himself (William John Morris Bottle)
Despite the title, this is neither an autobiography nor a memoir. It is instead a series of recollections regarding some of the famous, infamous, and unsung characters Bottle met over the course of his career as an English music-hall and circus performer in the early 1900s.
As “Datas,” Bottle’s memory act primarily involved answering date-related questions from audience members, often pertaining to historical events and the popular sports of his day. Believing that the more detail he had for any given event, the more memorable it would be for him and his audiences, Bottle actively sought out any living participants for personal interviews, which they apparently were happy to provide. As a result, there are many pages given over to boxers recounting the details of their matches, two chapters devoted to executioners discussing the murderers they’ve put to death (back when hanging brought swift justice in England), and assorted tales of gangsters, politicians, fellow performers, etc. The degree to which readers find these recollections entertaining will largely depend on how interested they may be in England and its popular culture at the turn of the twentieth century. (If you’re not well versed in the scandals of that time, this book is guaranteed to send you down multiple Wikipedia rabbit holes!) For me, many sections—particularly the numerous, lengthy blow-by-blow accounts of boxing matches, a sport which holds no personal interest—were entirely skippable. And modern readers may, on occasion, find some of the book’s 100±year-old English slang a bit hard to decipher.
Unfortunately, other than his birthdate and some of the places he’s traveled, you will learn virtually nothing about Bottle himself or his memory work. For that, I recommend his book Memory: A Simple System of Memory Training.
Memory: A Simple System of Memory Training, “Datas” (William John Morris Bottle)
This is a delightful volume, published in 1904, presenting Bottle’s personal story of how he rose from being an uneducated English gasworks laborer to become “Datas,” a stage performer who traveled the world with his memory act.
I recommend this book for anyone interested in learning more about history’s mnemonists. However, despite the title, you will not find any memory techniques described herein. In fact, Bottle’s “simple system” consists of working to consume and remember as much factual information as possible through singleminded focus.
Bottle proudly states that he uses no “artificial” means of memory, by which I assume he means such things as memory palaces, imaginative associations, and any system for representing numbers with images. He does not describe the techniques he considers “artificial,” however, so it’s possible that he did use such techniques but thought them so unremarkable or so common that he took them for granted. If that’s not the case—and he’s not withholding information about his approach—I can only assume that he was naturally gifted with an unusually powerful memory. How else to explain someone whose stage act consisted entirely of answering any off-the-cuff historical-date related question his audiences threw at him?
How to Remember Anything, Mark Channon
Channon, a Grand Master of memory, emphasizes practical applications within a business context, stepping beyond mnemonics to include other learning tools, such as speed reading and, most significantly, mind mapping. Both speed reading and mind maps fall outside of what I consider to be memory techniques/mnemonics, so Channon’s emphasis on such tools didn’t appeal to me as a memory enthusiast. In fact, I started and abandoned this book four different times before I forced myself to finish it.
For me, the book would have benefitted from less repetition (each chapter ends with an unnecessary “here’s what we talked about” list), less content about other learning tools, and more discussion of actual memory techniques—particularly when it comes to applying the Major system and developing memory palaces. I was disappointed that the second half of the book abandons memory techniques almost entirely (or breezes over them) to focus predominantly on mind mapping. However, for readers seeking any tools to aid learning, Channon’s prescription may fit the bill.
At the end of the book, I felt that I had spent the last several hours in the presence of a business consultant rather than someone truly passionate about memory techniques, let alone a memory world champion.
The Hermetic Art of Memory, Alexander Dicsone (translated by Paul Ferguson)
This is a translation of two slender volumes (originally written in Latin and included here in both translation and the original language) by a Scottish student of Giordano Bruno. I will be brief: I found this text utterly impenetrable and devoid of any practical advice or information regarding memory techniques. (Then again, I am not one who believes the reason we cannot make sense of Bruno’s approach—and, by association, Dicsone’s—is because he was a genius who functioned on a higher plane.)
The Memory Arts in Renaissance England, Edited by William E. Engel, Rory Loughnane, and Grant Williams
I went into this book expecting the editors to deliver a comprehensive survey of historical writings on memory techniques akin to what Mary Carruthers has done, but with the emphasis on England rather than continental Europe. This is not that.
Apparently, there were significant differences in how “the art of memory” was taught and practiced in England versus the rest of Europe. England was much more skeptical of its methods and benefits. Perhaps it was too aligned with Roman Catholicism and/or mysticism for English tastes during the Renaissance. Or maybe they just didn’t get it.
Whatever the case, this book is less about “the art of memory” vis-à-vis memory techniques as it is about making a case for the idea that memory, recollection, remembrance, and forgetting were mentioned at all in England during this period. The editors go to great lengths to justify all of their selections, to the point of often overselling some very tenuous “memory” connections. (There are numerous selections where memory or the act of remembering and recalling information is never mentioned.) Selections sometimes feature only off-hand rejections of memory techniques or passing allusions to forgetfulness. I may be overstating things, but I would estimate that perhaps five pages out of the book’s 350 or so actually present any specific descriptions of a memory technique being practiced in Renaissance England.
Solomon’s Memory Palace, Bob W. Lingerfelt
This is an introductory, though fairly comprehensive, exploration of memory palaces, specifically targeted at those wanting to remember text verbatim. It assumes no prior knowledge of memory techniques; in fact, the author is so skittish about assuming anything about his readers’ intelligence that he introduces the word mnemonic, then refuses to use it again, saying, “I think it causes English readers to stumble”!
This level of handholding is present throughout the book. Lingerfelt goes to such lengths to explain memory concepts that he often over-explains, repeating the same idea in multiple ways and in unnecessary detail. The tone never felt condescending to me; I just got the impression that Lingerfelt doesn’t think his target readers are very well educated and need all the help they can get.
Those target readers are Freemasons. Lingerfelt, a Master Mason (whatever that may be), is writing for members of his fraternity who are required to memorize a great deal of information verbatim, much of which is considered “secret” and cannot be written down—or, in some cases, even spoken aloud when one is alone! (I came to this book as a memory enthusiast; I have no connections to or interest in Freemasonry.)
Although the book’s subtitle, “A Freemason’s Guide to the Ancient Art of Memoria Verborum,” emphasizes the Freemason connection, Lingerfelt is happy to draw from a number of non-Mason memory sources—especially Rhetorica ad Herennium and Frances Yates’s The Art of Memory—and almost all of the content will be useful for anyone wanting to memorize text word for word.
If I were to pick on anything—and it’s a small thing—some of the suggested images for memorizing syllables and words seemed unnecessarily complicated. For example, for recalling the words Amiable Conduct, Lingerfelt suggests imagining “a convict in a striped prisoner’s uniform. He stands facing you, his arms raised in the air, as if surrendering. In his right hand, he holds a rifle with a powerful scope. In his left hand, he holds a duck. His head isn’t a normal head—in fact, it’s the head of a bull! For some reason a giant ‘E’ has been stitched on to the front of his uniform.” For Lingerfelt, the rifle with a scope suggests “aim,” followed by a stitched “E” on a convict with a bull’s head, holding a duck: “Aim-e, a bull, con-duck.” To me this seems overly complex for an image representing just two words. (Here’s how I’d recall amiable conduct: actress Amy Adams roping a bull on whose back is standing a small orchestra conductor wildly waving his arms.) I would guess that most readers would be better off coming up with their own images rather than relying on the author’s suggestions.
There are typos and formatting issues throughout the book, par for the course with most self-published, print-on-demand titles (which this is). For the most part, the errors weren’t a problem. I was willing to overlook them because the sentences otherwise were strong. (As a former proofreader and book editor, they just hurt my soul.)
But why is this called Solomon’s Memory Palace? Solomon is never mentioned in the text. The name appears just once, in the caption for an illustration.
Quantum Memory Power, Dominic O’Brien
At its heart, this is the printed version of O’Brien’s “Quantum Memory” audiobook, a presentation I’ve enjoyed listening to multiple times. I appreciate having this as an easily accessible record of the audiobook’s content, which I believe is strong. But it doesn’t fare so well as a standalone book, due to some carelessness on the part of the publisher.
First, this is essentially a transcription of the audiobook—not a thorough adaptation—and one that has been handled by either a poorly supervised speech-to-text app or a disinterested human transcriptionist. As a result, readers will occasionally stumble across sentences that make no sense…until you realize that some of the words were “misheard” and, thus, mistakenly transcribed.
Here is one of the worst examples. On the audio version, O’Brien is explaining how memory techniques can help when giving speeches or making presentations. Playing the role of an earnest employee, he begins a presentation by saying, “The reason I have called this meeting today is that I wish to be promoted from tea boy and general dogsbody to managing director of XYZ Holdings.” Whoever or whatever was responsible for transcribing that sentence for this book was, apparently, unfamiliar with the words tea boy, one who makes tea, and dogsbody, someone who does menial drudge work. And so the book gives us this: “…I wish to be promoted from T-boy and general dog’s potty to managing director of XYZ Holdings”! I wouldn’t want to be a dog’s potty either. (How could any editor have read that sentence and thought it made sense?)
Also, because it’s essentially a transcription of a 2003 audiotape, some of the pop culture content—and the complete disregard for the rise of smartphones—feels oddly outdated for a book released in 2020.
While the how-to-memorize content remains strong and of great value—particularly if you are still finding your way with memory techniques—and O’Brien is a gifted guide, I would recommend the audiobook version, delivered in O’Brien’s own warm and welcoming voice, over this book.
Bob