How to memorize a poem, speech, or script

Approaching something from a different direction gives you new perspective. (Image by David Mark)

For learning written music effectively and efficiently, there’s nothing better than backchaining.

However, its usefulness extends to many other areas, from training an animal to learning a sequence of dance moves.

Backchaining is so powerful that I want to show you exactly how it works. I’ve built a process around this basic technique that will allow you to learn easily — and possibly more rapidly than you ever have before. However, demonstrating this practice method using, say, a piano piece is a bit abstract for those who don’t read music fluently. So today, I’ll be showing you how to use my practice method to learn a piece of classic oratory: specifically, Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address.

I’m choosing this speech because of its precise word choice and economy of language — both of these will make our job easier. However, you could use this same process to memorize a favorite prayer, poem, or Shakespearean soliloquy.

You can do this even if you’re terrible at memorizing. If you’re already good, this will make you even better. Ready? Let’s go!

We begin, perversely, at the end. The last sentence reads:

It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

That is too long for most of us to hold in our brains. Memorization is a process of facilitating the transfer from our short-term memory to long-term. I don’t know about you, but by the time I finish reading through this sentence, I’ve already forgotten the beginning. Therefore, we need to grab ahold of something much smaller. We must take a tiny bite from the end of the end, small enough that we can hold it comfortably in our short-term memory.

This is where there is much variation between individuals. Some of us might be able to hang onto “and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” Others can do “from the earth.” How can you tell what will suit you? Read the tiny section of your choice, and then look away from the text and say the words aloud. If you were not successful, choose a smaller bite.

Once you have a bite that you can say aloud correctly, repeat it until it’s an 8 out of 10 on the Comfort Scale. Then, add a few more words — again, not so many that you overwhelm your short-term memory.

I started with “and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth,” repeating it twice. Next, I added, “shall have a new birth of freedom.” A bit nonsensical on its own, but more would have been too much. Now I look away from the screen and put it together:

shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

I noticed, when I looked back at the text, that I had added an extra “and” in there. Sorry, Mr. Lincoln! I repeated it a second time and got it right, scoring 9 on the Comfort Scale.

Then, I was ready to add “that this nation, under God.” However, it’s okay if you are doing smaller chunks and your third step is adding “of the people” to “for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” It’s also okay if you require more repetitions in order to score 8 on the Comfort Scale. It’s always better to err on the side of shorter phrases and more repetition in order to make your learning experience as relaxed and easeful as possible.

Now, when I went to add “that these dead shall not have died in vain,” it fell apart. I couldn’t remember the following phrase — the one I had just learned. It vanished out of my short term memory. No problem — I simply took out the new part and retraced my steps: “that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…”

So far, we’ve discussed two aspects of this process that are highly individualized: How many words you can handle at once and how much repetition you need in order to be comfortable. The third highly individualized and highly variable aspect is your fatigue point: when have you had enough for now?

For my first session, I was able to learn the entire last sentence of the speech. When I looked back at the sentence appearing before that one, I had a feeling akin to that of being offered a plate of raw broccoli when I sought a chocolate chip cookie. It looked unappetizing (sorry, Mr. Lincoln!). So I would need to take a break before learning any more of the speech.

The “unappetizing” feeling is one sign of fatigue. Others include stumbling over your words and drawing mental blanks on previously learned phrases. Quit before you experience frustration; take a break.

Your break may be anywhere from ten minutes to a day. When you return, pretend you have never seen the speech before and start exactly as you did the first time with “shall not perish from the earth.” We call this The Undertow. You may notice that the process goes more smoothly the second time around; you may be able to take larger chunks, and get away with fewer repetitions to reach 8 on the Comfort Scale. It will take you less time and effort to reach the point where you left off in your previous session.

Do not, I urge you, do not simply try to pick up where you left off, adding more phrases from the speech. It will not be there for you. But if you use the Undertow and build it little by little, working from the end, you will be amazed at how these words roll off your tongue.

You may wonder what’s wrong with memorizing from the beginning. The problem with doing that is it builds in that horrible feeling of not knowing what’s coming next. Working from the start, you will inevitably choke, draw a blank, hit a wall — you’re always moving into material you don’t know, making the process stilted and uncomfortable. That’s the opposite of what we want. When we work from the end, the words will always flow; we’re always moving into material we know well, rounding third and heading for home.

I enjoy the depth of this process of memorization and how it allows me to get inside the head of the writer. In memorizing just one sentence of the Gettysburg Address, I have a new appreciation for the structure of this sentence and the choice of words within it, as well as the themes of the speech itself. I see things I wouldn’t have picked up from simply reading. It’s good exercise for my brain on many levels.

You may be at a stage of life where you don’t have to memorize anything for anyone else. But perhaps you might like to memorize something for your own enjoyment. What words would you love to know “by heart,” making them part of you? The process I’ve outlined here can help you do this more easily than you might have imagined.

If you get a chance to try it, let me know how it goes!