Back in August, Dr. Grossblatt asked if anyone was interested in reading a relevant book on E-Publishing and blogging about it afterwards. I offered to do it for The Shallows-What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains.
I volunteered to read The Shallows and lead the online discussion basically because I really do want to know—is the Internet destroying the way I read and taking away my joy in reading? I’m not sure this book will answer that question but maybe it will help preserve the excitement of reading by showing a new way to appreciate the written word.
Each week I’ll be posting on a chapter—Carr’s main points and then my personal takeaways from the reading. (All quotes are taken from The Shallows by Nicholas Carr, Copyright 2010).
Prologue-The Watchdog and the Thief
• The Medium is the Message—“in the long run a medium’s content matters less than the medium itself in influencing how we act and think.” Carr states that over the years critics have become so overwhelming focused on content that they have completely overlooked what the actual media platform itself is doing to the way people think and interact. He asks the question: are we in control of the medium or is the medium in control of us?
It is an intriguing thought to begin the book—when we take content out of the equation (and all of its various polarizing viewpoints) does the way we get that content influence the way we think and act. If we apply this question to digital publishing directly, how does a book or article impact us differently by reading it on different platforms?
I was thinking about this very question when we were discussing the books that influenced us during our first class. One of the books that influenced me most was called Where the Red Fern Grows. It was the first book I read that elicited a strong emotional response from me. I suddenly “got” why reading was such an amazing thing and became a life-long reader because of that book. I don’t think, at least with the way e-books are produced right now, reading this book on the Kindle or iPad would have caused as great as a response emotionally from me as it did in hard-copy form. Does a digital devise turn something off in my brain so that I'm not as emotionally involved in the stories that I'm reading on it? Hard to know but interesting to think about.
Next week: Chapter One- Hal and Me (If you've never seen 2001: A Space Odyssey this chapter may not make complete sense....)
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I’m looking forward to following your weekly recaps of the book! I can also think back to several of the books that have influenced me, and wonder whether having read them in an e-reader format would have affected their level of influence. In my case, I don’t think the format would have made a difference, since it was the content itself that so profoundly affected me. Plus, if using an e-reader had been the default method of reading that I was used to, as will likely be the experience of many children growing up today, that format would in no way have minimized these books’ impact. Will today’s generation someday comment that reading a book in paperback format would not have had the same impact as reading it on an e-reader? I guess only time will tell.
ReplyDelete-- Heather Walrath
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ReplyDeleteI posted this comment earlier but it was from the wrong account, and for some reason I care. Anyway...
ReplyDeleteI'm looking forward to following this as well! It's cool that you're doing it chapter-by-chapter and giving us all a chance to chime in (hmm, I think I inadvertently hit on an e-publishing theme there...)
Like Heather, I'm wondering if our mistrust or wariness of e-books are simply a matter of conditioning. I'll bring up the example of records again - back when the phonograph first appeared, many musicians, including John Philip Sousa, predicted that it would lead to the death of music. His complaints sound pretty similar to some of the complaints bibliophiles have against e-readers: that the ear's "finer instincts" would degrade, that amateurs would take over the field leaving no room for the truly talented pros, that no one would be able to make a living as a musician anymore, that some intangible but crucial 'something' was left out when you listened to recorded music. (check out this article if you're interested: http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/06/06/050606crat_atlarge)
Now, I realize that some people might argue that Sousa was right, but no one can argue that listening to recorded music can't be a deeply evocative and emotional experience. Maybe the same goes for books - maybe in the future kids will curl up on the couch with their iPad and read "Bridge to Terebithia" (big one for me) or "Where the Red Fern Goes" and begin a lifelong addiction to learning. Only difference is that when the kid finishes "Bridge to Terebithia," she could be directed to check out "The Great Gilly Hopkins," also by Katherine Paterson, buy it, and start in on it, without ever leaving her couch.