Notes on Note-taking

Ann Blair’s article “Note-taking As an Art of Transmission”, has finally kicked me in the direction of explicitly formulating my own method. My method has been developing over the past two years; now, I have finally achieved a level of technical proficiency such that I no longer look back on books and lectures with regret because I failed to record what was valuable in them. What follows are several of the more important insights in the long personal note-taking methodology I just finished writing:

Kinds of Notes
There are basically two kinds of notes: (1. summaries; (2. excerpts/indices.

Summaries are by far the more valuable,—especially for me, given the partiality of my memory to recall arguments, stories, and lists over specific formulations. Summaries force one to make sure that what was read was comprehended—in this way sleepiness, for example, can be overcome. Moreover, summaries can enhance re-reading if one glances through them before picking up the book again—they provide an interpretation to contest in the excellent process of self-subversion. Basic skills for summary: identification and definition of an author’s key terms; the ability to note the beginning and ending of an argument; basic short-term memory.

Excerpting is necessary for academic writing—and it can be fun to record real zingers when they come along. But in general, unless something is breathtakingly good—something worth memorizing—excerpting is best replaced by indexing. I keep a list of topics—a pretty large list of about a hundred topics—to which I add citations of relevant material (with only the briefest descriptive comments) whenever I come across it. After my summaries of whole arguments, essays, and books, this kind of note-taking is the most valuable,—certainly of all kinds it has the greatest pay-off for the least amount of effort.

The Significance of the Topic List
I believe the topic list of my citation index is probably the truest gauge of my real interests. I purposefully try to keep it relatively short—about a hundred topics—so I can bear them all readily in mind whenever I read any book. These are the topics I am always on the look-out for, the sorts of things I am likely to drift into contemplating whenever I begin to day-dream.

Of course as the months pass, since I am an undergraduate with a very malleable set of academic interests—I am still tasting, prior to becoming inebriate on my intellectual mixed-drink of choice—the topics that merit the top 100 list gradually shift. Some certainly remain—like Calvin, Prayer, Walter Benjamin, Techniques of Reading, etc.—but others at length become re-assigned to vast lists of sub-topics, which I add to as they reoccur to me but without any deep sense of urgency.

The 100 topics, especially the permanent ones, gradually come to provide in their substructure a skeleton outline of my understanding of that topic. For example, among others I have under Calvin the following sub-topics: His Humanism, Union with God, the Holy Spirit, Communion, His Letter-writing, His Politics, His Philosophy of Education, etc… I can get a spat of ideas for essays just by glancing over the sub-headings of my topic list.

Remembering To Take Notes
The trick is neither to read in order to take notes nor to take notes in order to read. Either dependency can  lead to dissatisfaction with a process that should be full of joy. Over the years as I developed my note-taking techniques, several abortive attempts resulted in (brief) hiatuses of reading altogether. At one point I committed myself to summarizing every paragraph of every book that I read. I read an average of five books a week—but that commitment put me down to two. The process actually succeeded in making me avoid reading for a while (an almost impossible feat).

I think the solution to this double danger is a matter of planning and perspective:

What books/articles to read should be carefully planned. I don’t mean that one should develop a lifetime reading plan or some such nonsense. Instead, I mean that developing ones book-intentions should resemble developing a nutritious diet. Certain essential food groups should be balanced to maintain the vigor of one’s mind, while the diet should also be tailored to the specific kinds of strenuous activity that one habitually engages. For me, this means a good mix of philosophical/theological/historical non-fiction, fiction, and poetry; also, the special tailoring occurs chiefly in the non-fiction, where I try to read in patterns that enhance my overall comprehension of various subjects or that relate to the various research and writing projects on hand.

Meanwhile, good (non-tedious but still useful) note-taking is a matter of perspective. One can’t take notes on everything. Instead, one’s notes should reflect one’s intentions for the book. General reading for enlarging general knowledge of various subjects should inspire fairly telescoped summaries—while on the other hand special reading for a paper should inspire detailed indices and detailed summaries of specific and relevant arguments and events.

Preserving Notes
The most important notes to have in electronic format are indices. Ideally, these should be accessible from various locations. I use google docs.

Summaries are also handy to have in electronic format, but I find that they are not as urgent and I tend to let them build up in manuscript form until I settle down for a few hours to type a bunch of them up. (Someday: a secretary…)

The Purpose of Note-taking
I believe that note-taking is analogous to socializing. Just as one wouldn’t dream of passing through the world without forming bonds, without developing historical relationships that give one a surer past and future than any calculation of time, one shouldn’t dream of passing through books without bothering to develop a community of ideas, a cacophonous democracy of voices in one’s head. Nothing aids the latter practice more than careful note-taking.