What was that you said? I wasn't paying attention.

I was reading an article in the Atlantic today regarding the shrinking attention span of the average American. What's causing that phenomenon? Why, the internet of course. We're getting so used to reading everything online, and that "everything" is written in short, pithy prose. Longer articles make us impatient; we either skim through them quickly or lose interest and drift away to something else.

Then there's the added issue of Instant Messaging. As my 14-year old informed me, "Only old people use email anymore, mom. God!"

I am so uncool. I use email everyday; several times a day, actually. I prefer it to other means of communication because it can be read whenever, replied to whenever, and with email I can go back and rephrase things - and make corrections - that may come off sounding rude or stupid before I hit "send." Which isn't to say I don't sometimes miss a few stupid things. I do, but not as often as they're capable of flying out of my mouth. My mouth lacks both a "delete" and a "backspace" key.

I'll admit I don't speak IM. I know a couple IMisms, things like OMG!, mostly because my teenager uses them constantly. But I don't. I DESPISE TEXT TALK. I'm a language buff. I like speaking in complete sentences, using words that can be found in the Oxford English Dictionary. Again, another sign I am old, but I'd rather use the king's English than speak in acronyms. Period.

Unfortunately, in other ways I have noticed a lapse in my attention span. I have trouble concentrating on books that aren't contemporary. Ironic, considering I used to read nothing written after the 1940s, preferring a good Victorian novel to anything written lately. Patience was my virtue. I could read through the most dense descriptions - the most antiquated language - without batting an eye. I reveled in it, preferring it to the more sparse prose of contemporary books.

But now? Just this week I picked up one of my books written around the 1900s. I won't name it, mostly because I've already forgotten the title (sad, I know). I didn't last more than two pages. The roundabout way of saying things annoyed me. Working as hard as I have on my own writing - taking out unnecessary words and trying my damndest to drop most of my adverbs - I couldn't take it.

This worries me. I'm concerned I've lost the part of me that can get lost in a Victorian novel. I'm not as patient anymore. When I look at long descriptions I can't help editing out extraneous words, thinking, "You could have written your major points in less than two pages, and it took you twenty to say the same thing!"

My favorite writer, or I should say my sentimental favorite writer - since I cut my teeth on him - has always been Charles Dickens. I shared a love of Dickens with a very close friend, a friend I lost four years ago. Before he died it was his goal to finish all of Dickens, and he accomplished that goal. After his passing I thought, this is important to me, too. I'm going to read all of Dickens. But have I yet? No.

Part of me is afraid to approach a book by Dickens. What if I'm as impatient with him as I was with the later novel I couldn't get into because the descriptions went on far too long? I'd be devastated. I want to keep that vow, but will I be able to?

It's easy losing one's attention span. In this information age I doubt anyone - save a confirmed Luddite - hasn't found him or herself impatient with having to wait for information, having to wade through overly long articles in order to get to the facts. The scary thing is I can't see this getting any better anytime soon. Rather the reverse, I imagine we'll become less and less patient as time goes on.

As an illustration, at my library we have a drive-up window. It's there for convenience, so mothers with small children, elderly people and those pressed for time can come pick up or return materials. Shockingly, there have been altercations at the drive-up from people impatient with the person in front of them. They've honked their horns and even leaned out the window to swear at patrons they feel are taking up too much valuable time receiving service. It isn't as though the staff isn't efficient. They are, but sometimes things are misplaced, signals are crossed, etc. It can take a few minutes to serve a customer. But even these few minutes are too many for some. They feel entitled to instant service, and they boil over quickly when it isn't given to them RIGHT NOW.

How much worse will all this get? In reading, in waiting in line, in having to delay any gratification our society is only becoming more spoiled. As I wrote not that long ago, it's times we aren't busy we really use our creativity. That's when our brains start working, when we're forced to come up with something to occupy our time. But these days we're only a few keystrokes away from information overload. It's there, and it's instantaneous. It's what we've come to expect. But is it good for us? Will it be good for future generations, or will it, as Nicholas Carr wonders in his article "lead to intellectual laziness"?

I'm afraid I already know the answer. Those of us who fight against that face an uphill battle. It's the good fight, and a cause worth saving, but ultimately I fear we've already gone to far to turn back. Still, we have some ammunition. We have libraries and librarians, critics and experts in the fields of art, literature and the benefits of slow and repeated reading, and a few other stragglers who've resisted the wave.

Maybe we should follow the idea of Ray Bradbury in his Fahrenheit 451, each memorizing a passage of a great novel so they'll never be lost. Then at least we few could get together and reminisce about life before the world started moving so quickly it nearly outran itself in its hurry to get nowhere fast, remembering how it used to be when life moved at a reasonable pace.

Comments

[Persephone]

I'm totally with you on the email; it buys me time to respond (actually to research and give the illusion of being somewhat well-informed). IM and other texting just stresses me out; I can't even talk that fast.

As for tackling Dickens, he's really meant to be heard, isn't he? My mum and I read The Pickwick Papers out loud to each other when I was in my early teens. If you should fail to enlist your fourteen-year-old in this endeavour (God knows I've failed to browbeat my sixteen-year-old into this activity), might I suggest audio-books? I've found many titles readily available at the library and now much prefer an audio-book over music to take the sting out of much loathed tasks such as vegetable-chopping...

[stu]

I've always rather enjoyed nineteenth century writing, mostly because of the slow, relaxing pace. Even so, I'm hardly surprised that you're finding it annoying.

[Julie]

I love your blog! It's got so much information that is really helpful and well-balanced. I'll be back often to learn and enjoy!

[Julie]

I love your blog! It's got so much information that is really helpful and well-balanced. I'll be back often to learn and enjoy!

[Julie]

I love your blog! It's got so much information that is really helpful and well-balanced. I'll be back often to learn and enjoy!