Poems on the Brain

I definitely respect people who can, and wish I was one of 'em, but at this point in time, I am not the kind of guy who just drop a line of poetry into casual conversation. I'm lucky if I can get halfway through "The Cremation of Sam McGee" around the campfire, before stuttering to a halt.

Thanks, to David Lehman, I feel even worse about my lack of verse committed to memory. In an article on OpinionJournal, Lehman comments on the merits of "owning a poem." Not only did I have to look up who Emma Lazarus was, but I couldn't remember a single line from Bradstreet's "To My Dear and Loving Husband," which I actually had to memorize in high school.

Sigh.

Regardless, while the article focuses on poetry, it did strike a chord with a thought that's been bouncing about in my mostly empty noggin as of late. Accessing information is becoming less and less difficult. That's obvious: look at Google and Wikipedia. But it's going beyond just having the information be out there in discrete units.

Just the other day, I heard an NPR bit on a website called Platial. The premise of the site is simple: it takes Google Maps and then allows you to add places or construct maps, which you can save for personal use or share with others. For example, you could have a map titled, "Top Ten Places Responsible for My Cirrhosis." If someone clicked on the map, it would have the points plotted out, with space for you to add a description for each particular watering hole or, as the case may be, gutter. Here's one of the wackier examples. For a better explanation, see Cnet's roundup last month here.

What, you might ask, is the point of all of this, and how on earth does it relate to reciting poems? Well, in an age where data retrieval is becoming increasingly instantaneous and easy, is there any value for the person who is well-read and cite authors off the cuff or quote verse appropriate to the moment? Besides seeming smart and making yourself the idol of the cocktail party, that is.

Dropping lines of Chesterton (as some of my peers have learned is a newfound snobbish habit of mind) does demonstrate more than just a modicum of wit. Being so familiar with a text that you can quote a line directly applicable to the theme of your conversation, excluding simple waggish commentary, just isn't easy to do. You have to know the author's words inside and out, understand his arguments and themes. Better still if you can quote from a diverse group of writers that all deal with the subject at hand.

Or here's a different example, me and Latin. I made the mistake of discovering a computer-based Latin dictionary. The ease with which I can find definitions has directly reduced my ability to read Latin. That's right, actually reduced. I didn't notice it until I was studying for a recent exam. Tackling the lines for the first time, I'd actually had more success. The second time around, I was anticipating using the dictionary as a substitute for even the simplest acts of recall. My language skills were falling even as I translated hundreds of lines. I had to start from the beginning and use a real dictionary for words I couldn't figure out. The incentives for remembering words, and their disparate meanings and all the different situations influencing nuance and so forth, were dramatically raised and my noggin responded in kind.

I guess what I'm aiming at, in a terribly wordy and roundabout way, is that there is a significant difference between knowledge and wisdom. So many tasks, like memorization of poems or learning dates by heart or knowing concrete biographical information has been ignored. And it's certainly to the detriment of personal wisdom. Consider a rather flippant example. In an improv game the other day, the director restricted the time period of the scene to 1911. No one had the slightest idea what to do.

I don't doubt that most people would be unfamiliar with the major events of 1911. I was in the fog myself. But in the conversation afterwards, I realized that no one had any idea what happened in the 1910s. No one in the group seemed to be aware of a little thing called WWI.

I make that point not to point out the ignorance of my peers, because I imagine they actually know a bit about WWI. But not having a comprehensive understanding of the event, the importance of the chronology, leaves them completely out in the dark.

Well, I'm all over the map at this point. Suffice to say I'm turning into a curmudgeon in my young age and want to bring back rulers on the knuckles, tedious memorization and the good old days of education...however many centuries ago that may have been.