forgetting to remember the reminders of old
The experience of a new sense of paranoia, about our intellectual capacities, our attention spans, our abilities to concentrate, to retain. “I simply don’t seem to have the wherewithal to make it through a long book anymore – twitter’s ruined it all.” “I can remember when I’d simply sit at my desk and will my way to finishing an essay, as an undergraduate, more than a decade ago. But now, there are all of these sites to check, and emails and texts pinging their way into my awareness all of the time, and so…”
And so… one lays in bed at night worrying that the game really is up, what one could once do one can do no more, lost now in the funhouse of the always-on mediasphere. “In or around June 1995 human character changed again,” a recent essay tells us. Another, by a self-proclaimed saint of seriousness, warns us of a coming apocalypse. Reading in bed, yes, it’s true – why can’t I remember what happened in the previous chapter of this history of Byzantium? Why, furthermore, am I still not finished with this history, months after my trip to Istanbul? In the early morning, more panic to ring in the day with worry: will today be like yesterday, and the yesterday before that, where despite my best intentions I still don’t get anything done, instead always taking “five more minutes” to scan the social media screens, to surf around in the flotsam of trivial news?
Between the articles and the personal sense of guilt, then, a creeping sense of despair. Perhaps it’s the personal and intellectual version of what the ancient Romans must have felt about their Greek predecessors. Despite all these resources, all of this wealth and power and worldly awareness, why can’t we get the statues to stand up without props? Why can’t we write an Odyssey or an Oedipus Rex? Where are our Aristotles, our Platos?
But then this morning a second thought about all of this: Undoubtedly, undoubtedly, all of these new screens and devices, fora and threads, have a major impact on my – and all of our – mental and psychological ecosystems. There’s no doubt either that having the world’s body of information searchable on my desk has made me lazy about retaining information, and the ease of electronic contact has made me less willing and able to do the quiet, self-circumscribed work that I used to do when there simply weren’t many options for finding continual, causal contact with friends and strangers. But…
I am wondering this morning when, exactly, was my worklife not organised around long periods of apathy and distraction, punctuated by sudden rushes of illumination, focus, and productivity? Long before I had a working web browser and wifi setup, that’s for sure. I can’t remember what happens in novels or histories now, sure – but then look back and the notebook after notebook I filled with notes during my undergraduate and graduate years? How much of War and Peace did I really have in hand, despite just having read it, back in 1996? And further, when was it that I didn’t blow off reading interminable critical monographs to read the newspaper, magazines, or whatever was at hand? In short, when wasn’t my internal intellectual life organised in a manner resembling a factory with lazy workers, constantly off for a smoke break or getting distracted in conversation, and with a manager staring down at it all in despair, occasionally shouting at the shiftless individuals to get the hell back to work?
Not sure there’s a wider point to all of this, except perhaps to offer a slight rejoinder to the prophets of social media apocalypse who would tell us that we’re screwed… and who often succeed, as with my night time worries, to convince us of this. More than that, I guess I’m trying to remind myself – to remind myself that I’ve always needed reminders, and that if ADHD or dementia there is growing in my brain and mind, it’s been growing there from the very start.