#32: White Noise by Don DeLillo

Tags

100 books, book review, books, literature, philosophy, technology

I have made no secret of my strained relationship with technology (see this rant for proof).  As much as I enjoy the ability to procure endless entertainment with minimal effort, I worry about the effect such ease has on our lives.  The old man hiding inside of me looks back to the halcyon days of childhood, when being friends meant more than accepting a request on Facebook.  Playing football meant going out in the front yard and cracking skulls with the neighborhood kids, not turning on the Xbox 360 and pressing buttons.  This wasn’t because technology didn’t exist.  It was because the generations responsible for raising my own recognized the value of actual experience over virtual accomplishments.  My mother limited the amount of Nintendo we could play.  My brothers and I were required to go outside for a certain amount of time each day.  TV was a last resort, saved for family movie nights and rainy days.  The sensibility that limited the impact of technology on my childhood seems to have disappeared at some point in the past ten or fifteen years.  For many people, I suspect it disappeared long before that.  I shudder to think what impact this fundamental shift in our relationship with technology will have on the future.  Apparently I am not alone in my concern. (For the record, I recognize the irony of making such a rant via internet blog post)

Don DeLillo’s White Noise is the story of Jack Gladney, a professor of Hitler Studies at the College-on-the-Hill somewhere in middle America.  Jack’s life with his fourth wife, Babette, and their children is permeated by the omnipresent whine of technology.  The TV and the radio constantly offer commentary and commercials, uniting the family with the rest of America in a great quilt of consumerism.  Jack is happy, only vaguely haunted by the fear of his own eventual death.  This changes when a nearby chemical spill releases a black cloud of insecticide byproduct.  The airborne toxic event forces Jack and his family to evacuate their home.  Although they are allowed to return after little more than a week, the peaceful life the family knew is hopelessly disrupted.  Jack’s possible exposure to the cloud has him focused relentlessly on the possibility of his imminent demise.  Babette is also consumed by her fear of death.  A potential cure for their dread arrives in the form of Dylar, a medication that promises to eradicate the fear of death.  When Dylar fails, Jack resorts to extreme measures to ease his pain.  Through it all the hum of technology continues to surround him.

White Noise is more than a meditation on death.  It is an indictment of the influence of technology and commercialism on our everyday lives.  Jack does not fear his natural death.  It is only when exposed to a manmade disaster that he fears his unnatural demise.  The black cloud seems to rob him of the joy of living.  What DeLillo manages to express is that the white noise surrounding him had already cheapened Jack’s existence.  The black cloud simply makes him aware of that fact.  Jack’s relationships are defined by technology.  The comfort and ease offered by all of the devices surrounding him is enticing but ultimately dulling.  It blurs the line between what is real and what is merely projected.  It is a shame that the internet and social media did not exist in 1985 when DeLillo wrote this book.  I am sure he would have a great deal to say about these developments.

I was immediately captivated by White Noise.  It seems to say so many of the things I have often thought about technology.  What is the price we pay for so much convenience?  Have we given up some part of real pleasure for the appearance of comfort?  These are questions worth considering, and this is a book worth reading. White Noise is like the bastard offspring of Kurt Vonnegut and Marshall McLuhan, full of both dark humor and substantial social criticism.  Turn off the TV and read this book!

The Current Count

32 Read, 68 To Go

Old Man Practice: Dagnab Newfangled Technology!

Tags

books, rant, reading, technology

I was born to be an old man.  Some people dread getting older, getting wrinkled, and getting cranky.  Not me.  I understand why they are called the golden years.  In order to make the most of my old-manhood, I have decided to practice.  This rant is the result.

Future Me is old and doesn't care what you think. Future My Wife is slightly embarassed.

I recently started in a new teaching position, and on the first day of the new semester (and my first day on the job), my students were required to fill out “Student Data Sheets.”  These were pretty basic, asking for both student and parent contact info.  I couldn’t believe the number of students who asked permission to take out their cell phones to get the necessary data.  I understand not knowing your parent’s cell phone number when you are 15 and have your own phone with your folks programmed into it, but not knowing your own home phone number?!    It seems trivial, but I think this is indicative of a dangerous trend. 

Technology has made the storage and retrieval of information so easy that there is no need for any basic memorization anymore.  Why read a book when there is Wikipedia or Sparknotes online for free?  Why memorize a poem or a passage when you can just search for it on your iPhone?

Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to find just about anything on the internet.  What worries me is that we are producing generations of young people who have no conception of what it means to analyze, memorize, and synthesize information because they simply don’t have to.  These blasted kids absolutely refuse to read assigned literature.  It makes much more sense to them to read a summary that tells them the gist of whatever the assignment is, and finding such a summary is now a piece of cake.  That serves them well for the present.  Someday they will need the ability to think without internet assistance.  What happens then?  I’ll tell you what happens: they will hold me up in line at Luby’s because they won’t have the mental capacity to choose between lemon meringue and key lime pie (the answer is both).

I don’t know how to combat this problem.  I might even be overreacting.  I just can’t help but think that the technologies of convenience in schools today will become the technologies of dependence in all parts of society tomorrow.

Here’s what we’re going to do.  First, you kids get off my lawn.  Then, turn off the devil music.  Next, pull up your pants.  Finally, go read a book.

Rant over.

Anyone who comments gets an imaginary butterscotch.