Two Things Charles Dickens Can Teach Us About Successful Presentations
From Nick Morgan
Charles Dickens is 200 today, and in his honor, this blog will explore a little-known side of the great novelist: his public speaking, and in particular 2 lessons the great Boz still can teach us today.
Dickens, a keen amateur actor, carried out several speaking tours of England and the United States during his later life, partly to indulge his love of theatrics, partly to raise money, and partly because he had more energy than a half-dozen ordinary people. In addition, he gave many speeches at the meetings and dinners a popular public figure of the day was expected to attend.
He was phenomenally successful at his public readings, though some say the stresses of his last speaking tour hastened his death at 58. Tickets for his American performances were set at $2.00, but sold on the black market for as much as $26.00 each, a large sum in those days.
One of his most popular readings was a shortened version of A Christmas Carol, and I’m looking at a facsimile of the prompt copy now that he used for these performances. It yields some interesting Dickensian secrets.
First of all, he cut ruthlessly. What’s left is the bones of the narrative, with the occasional bit kept in because it was pure fun. At the same time, Dickens adds direction to himself, to remind him of the emotional note he’s supposed to be striking at each point in the story. So, he starts out “cheerful” when Scrooge’s nephew enters the scene, transitioning to “mystery” for Marley’s Ghost, and “melted” when Scrooge begins his transformation to kindly old man. And he gives himself stage directions too, noting when he’s supposed to sit, stand, and move.
This shows Dickens’ keen understanding of the importance of conveying not just the words, but also the emotion, of the story he is performing – while concentrating on the essentials of the narrative. The same advice holds for speakers today, and raises the question, why don’t more speakers imitate Dickens and put directions for their performances in the margins of their speeches, as well as keeping ruthlessly focused on the point they’re trying to make?
The second Dickensian tip comes from his after-dinner speeches. Attendees often marveled at his prodigious memory, as he always spoke without notes, sometimes for an hour or more. How did he do it?
Dickens broke his speeches down into sections, and then used an Ancient Greek trick to remember the sections. He would associate a section with a room in his house, linking them in his mind, so that all he had to do was “walk” through the house room by room to remember what he was supposed to say.
At 200, Dickens can still teach us a thing or two about speaking, performance, and memory.
From Nick Morgan
Charles Dickens is 200 today, and in his honor, this blog will explore a little-known side of the great novelist: his public speaking, and in particular 2 lessons the great Boz still can teach us today.
Dickens, a keen amateur actor, carried out several speaking tours of England and the United States during his later life, partly to indulge his love of theatrics, partly to raise money, and partly because he had more energy than a half-dozen ordinary people. In addition, he gave many speeches at the meetings and dinners a popular public figure of the day was expected to attend.
He was phenomenally successful at his public readings, though some say the stresses of his last speaking tour hastened his death at 58. Tickets for his American performances were set at $2.00, but sold on the black market for as much as $26.00 each, a large sum in those days.
One of his most popular readings was a shortened version of A Christmas Carol, and I’m looking at a facsimile of the prompt copy now that he used for these performances. It yields some interesting Dickensian secrets.
First of all, he cut ruthlessly. What’s left is the bones of the narrative, with the occasional bit kept in because it was pure fun. At the same time, Dickens adds direction to himself, to remind him of the emotional note he’s supposed to be striking at each point in the story. So, he starts out “cheerful” when Scrooge’s nephew enters the scene, transitioning to “mystery” for Marley’s Ghost, and “melted” when Scrooge begins his transformation to kindly old man. And he gives himself stage directions too, noting when he’s supposed to sit, stand, and move.
This shows Dickens’ keen understanding of the importance of conveying not just the words, but also the emotion, of the story he is performing – while concentrating on the essentials of the narrative. The same advice holds for speakers today, and raises the question, why don’t more speakers imitate Dickens and put directions for their performances in the margins of their speeches, as well as keeping ruthlessly focused on the point they’re trying to make?
The second Dickensian tip comes from his after-dinner speeches. Attendees often marveled at his prodigious memory, as he always spoke without notes, sometimes for an hour or more. How did he do it?
Dickens broke his speeches down into sections, and then used an Ancient Greek trick to remember the sections. He would associate a section with a room in his house, linking them in his mind, so that all he had to do was “walk” through the house room by room to remember what he was supposed to say.
At 200, Dickens can still teach us a thing or two about speaking, performance, and memory.
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