An Ode to Poetry

Bringing back the lost art of memorization

“We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.” (Dead Poets Society)

My family remembers my grandfather for many things, but chief among them, particularly for my cousins and I, was his love of and insistence on memorizing great works of poetry and literature.

We would often receive a small piece of paper in the mail or handed one as we were leaving our grandparents’ home with the promise of a few dollars if we could memorize the words it contained and recite them to him.

He, himself, could draw out from his memory the words of the past and could quote them aloud or in his own writing. He’d include them in speeches, in his community newsletter, in his emails, in his toasts. Even today if you would call his house phone, you’d hear him greet you as a beautiful “Child of the Universe” in his rich tones (a reference to American writer Max Ehrmann’s poem “Desiderata” which I no doubt he had hidden amongst his home library).

The words of the past shaped his thoughts and his loves, his mind and heart. His habit of memorization etched the words on his soul and made him who he was—a man who lived a heroic life, who loved well,  and was loved by so many.

Now as I prepare to home-school my children, I’ve come across many educational philosophies that include memorization as a major part of formation and I was not only reminded of my grandfather, but encouraged to follow his example and cultivate this habit for myself.

We need a language to engage with reality in a meaningful way.

With young children, poetry expands their vocabulary and builds up their language store, allowing them to draw from it to have, think about, or express ideas. As adults, while we hopefully have a solid language store from our youth, memorizing poetry gives a new form to our thoughts and contemplation, allowing us to wrestle with and draw deeper into the divine mysteries. How can we love that which we cannot come to know?

One by one I’ve been picking a poem to read, chew over, and commit to memory. I began with short, rhythmic works like Emily Dickenson’s “Hope is a Thing with Feathers” and Edna St. Vincent Milay’s “First Fig” because after three kids my brain isn’t the little sponge it used to be; my memory muscle needs stretching. Then I moved on to Gerard Manley Hopkins “Pied Beauty,” which although short, took some time to have it memorized well enough for recitation. (My friend Alanna sings a beautiful version of this poem that I’ve included for your enjoyment).

I was delightfully surprised by the effect this simple habit immediately had on my life. 

I learned lines instead of scrolling on my phone; I recited verses while washing the dishes or feeding the baby. My day took on a new life as it became more solidly rooted in fertile soil. Little moments became poetry. 

Mothers in particular need to cultivate beautiful habits for themselves. We spend so much time forming our children that we lose sight of the fact that we too need continued formation, a constant turning of our hearts and minds back to what is True, Good, and Beautiful. 

Memorizing poetry does more for you than simply tuning your heart to the transcendentals. Aristotle considered “memory” a function of the soul, not merely of intellect;  committing something to memory then made it a part of your soul. Should we not strive to join our souls to the things that will awaken it from sleep and bring it to new life?

Let me know your favorite poem or if you would like to join me in this little endeavor in the comments below! 

Poetry should at the very least be read regularly, because as Robin William’s beloved Mr. Keating says in the 1989 classic Dead Poets Society, we are members of the human race. 

The practice of memorizing poetry however allows us to honor the past in a particular way with our time and attention, as well as recognizing our place in a larger story and helping us better understand ourselves and the world around us. 

To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” “Answer. That you are here — that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.” That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” (Dead Poets Society)

My grandfather saw the world through the lens of poetry, a view that drew out the beauty that dwells in nature, in others, in love and in suffering; the extraordinary and mundane. And he was all the better for it. 

In that, I would like to follow him.

O Captain my Captain.