Book review: HAMLET'S BLACKBERRY by William Powers

HAMLET'S BLACKBERRY: Building a Good Life in the Digital Age
by William Powers

I've been feeling overwhelmed lately by the demands of the various online communities and social networking sites to which I belong. Well, not just lately; a few months ago, I actually did a major purge of Facebook, 'unfriending' everyone to whom I didn't feel I had a real connection. It was over 200 people, which boggles the mind. Two hundred people I had 'friended' just to, what? I wasn't sure. Which is why I cut them loose. I haven't missed a single one.

But still, my digital, online life has been taking up far too much of my time, so when I saw this book offered for review by Harper Perennial, I jumped at it. And I'm really glad I did. I was recommending this book before I'd even finished it.

The first part of the book is about how connected we are, and how this is causing stress and other problems in our lives. Powers uses personal anecdotes as well as general stories to illustrate his points, using himself and his family as examples to bring home the impact of all the screens in our lives, as he puts it. Being connected is a good thing, he says, but it's taking over our existence.

In part II, he explores seven thinkers and philosophers from history, from Plato to McLuhan, and how they dealt with changing technologies in their times. Being overwhelmed by the crowd, as new technologies bring them into our homes and lives, is nothing new. What's interesting is how they managed to integrate these technologies into their daily lives without letting them take over, and how that pertains to us now. Then, as now, there was often a backlash against new tech. An example Powers uses is the recent resurgence of the popularity of Moleskine notebooks (of which I am also a fan: I love carrying around a little notebook to write snippets in as I think of them). Something that would have been high tech a few hundred years ago is now retro cool, and that's a good thing.

The last part of the book is about putting into practice ways to break away from the addiction to screens, both computers and smartphones. As an experiment, he and his family declare weekends to be Digital Sabbaths (something the Rowdy Kittens website calls Digital Sabbaticals), when the modem is unplugged and mobile phones turned off. It takes them a while to get used to it, but eventually it's something they all look forward to, and it makes them closer as a family.

This is something I'd like to put into practice myself: make at least one day per week a connection-free day, and not go online at all. I spend far too much time checking Facebook, Twitter, LiveJournal, and now Google+ multiple times per day. And I don't even have a smartphone! It would be ten times worse, I'm sure, if I did. And yet, I still want one. I find it annoying when people I'm with keep checking their phones, yet would I be like that if I had one? Probably.

I do make a conscious effort to step away from the computer when I'm at home, going out for walks or into the living room to read or write (on paper, with a pen, even!). But as soon as I get home, or finish a chapter, I'm back at the screen, checking email or what have you. It truly is an addiction. I feel like this book has given me the tools to break that addiction, or at least manage it.

What I liked best about this book is its emphasis on creating and maintaining human interactions, with depth and connection you can't get in the small, quick world of the screens. You can make deep and lasting connections with people online, but don't forget the flesh-and-blood humans in your life as well. And don't forget to stop and smell the roses.

DEVOTION a memoir by Dani Shapiro

I don't remember what initially attracted me to this book, but when it was offered by Harper Perennial for review, it somehow intrigued me and I requested it. I had not read any of Shapiro's other books, and memoirs are not my usual fare, but the spiritual quest has always been something that I've identified with, and I guess I was curious to read about another person's personal quest.

The funny thing is, I got two or three chapters in before I remembered that this was not fiction. The short chapters, which jumped around in time and place, initially put me off until I remembered that that's how my mind works, too: jumping from place to place, as thoughts lead to other thoughts, memories lead to other memories. It's how the story of life is told; not in a linear fashion, but in snippets of pertinent information that, in the end, form a whole story.

Even though I don't have much in common with the author (she's married, with a child, privileged, and Jewish), her journey is a universal one, and her questions are ones we all ask at some point in our lives. Her quest begins with a query from her son: What do we believe? She seeks answers through her yoga practice, through exploring her Judaism, from a Buddhist teacher, and from her extended family.

I found Shapiro's exploration of her relationship with her parents interesting, as well as her disconnect from her relatives and their unquestioning faith. I identified with her connection to the rituals of her youth, and how they strengthened her connection to her family despite her lack of belief.

I also identified with her initial dismissal of people who use the smorgasbord approach to spirituality as dabblers with commitment issues, but ultimately embraced the idea as valid because, for many people, it works. What brings you inner peace is what works for you.

If you are a spiritual seeker (of any stripe), I recommend this book for its honesty and insight into the psyche of a seeker.

This new trade paperback edition includes an interview with the author from ELLE magazine, and an essay about its creation by Shapiro.

$14.99 from Harper Perennial.