This
Journal

October
1999

I bet this is a short one because I'm feeling pretty uninspired tonight. Comfy, cozy, and uninspired. Most of the guys are out of the house or out of town. So I'm master of the place for a little while. The Cat and I run it.

I think I've hit a roadblock with the freshmen. It seems that none of my writing projects are succeeding very well with them. As I plan them they seem very straight-forward and potentially interesting, but as I present them in class things get complicated. I guess I'm still learning about what I can and can't assume about their interests and skills.

A couple books arrived today. One of them is Sven Birkerts' The Gutenberg Elegies: The Fate of Reading in an Electronic Age. I've heard good things about it. In some circles when Birkerts' name is mentioned, the term "neo-luddite" (which is certainly one of my favorites since reading a piece on the Luddites by Wendell Berry) is not far behind. I haven't read this book, but remember stumbling upon his thought-provoking, early criticism in the wonderful, defunct magazine Wig Wag (valuable back issues of which I abandoned to my classroom back in Joliet). I'm anxious to read the book and find out about the fate of reading in an electronic age. I may be a case in point as I jabber away here before the glowing screen, wishing I had the time to read a book. Fool. Watch this space for evidence of that reading (once it begins). I think it's a book full of ideas.

Why haven't I been reading much lately? Time is always an issue. The time sucked up by the computer is another issue. But I think the physical condition of my eyes figures into it as well. I just had them checked over the summer, but I fear they have changed again. I'm noticing a problem with middle distances and sensing tri-focals in my future. At any rate, I don't seem to have the stamina for the kind of marathon reading sessions that I used to love. Old Age.

Nothing too profound this evening. But who says I gotta be profound all the time? That gets old, don't it?

If work and leisure are soon to be subordinated to this one utopian principle-absolute busyness-then utopia and melancholy will come to coincide: an age without conflict will dawn, perpetually busy-and without consciousness.
Günther Grass