LEND ME YOUR EAR: THE PRINTED PAGE IS STILL OUR THINKING TOOL

The title of a small collection of essays proved so irresistible to me, I succumbed to Quality Paperback's offer without considering that books on language are already stacked three-deep behind a chair in a corner of my living room.

THE GUTENBERG ELEGIES, subtitled "The Fate Of Reading In An Electronic Age," consists of brief but cogent essays by Sven Birkerts. Born and bred in Latvia, Birkerts came late to our language, but his fascination with English soon became an obsession. To improve his grasp of phraseology and usage, he began writing essays in English. By coincidence, he discovered that he was pursuing the path taken by Johann Gutenberg centuries earlier.

Some time before Gutenberg invented the printing press, his knowledge of movable type inspired him to print his Elegies by hand. Following which, he made a number of copies to demonstrate to a select group of interested friends that reading is actually a process of translation. Seeing his essays in print showed him that it was really the reader who moves forward, not the print.

Electronics, explains Birkerts, referring to visual media, is the opposite of print. Knowledge gained from TV is shared by millions who have no opportunity to relate individually, and hence no exchange of ideas and attitudes. The printed page, on the other hand, is a private arrangement between reader and writer, rendering them so dependent on each other, they become one another. The reader without the writer is lost; the writer without the reader is bereft. Together, they learn to think.

Some of our forward-looking educators have finally realized the need for children to learn to think. To be taught to focus on academic as well as fundamental moral values: honesty, responsibility and respect for learning in addition to respect for themselves and their teachers and classmates. How to coordinate all these basics has yet to be resolved. Too many of today's young people seem to Wanna Be without Wanting to Do. Unfortunately, respect in general has been on the decline among them for some time.

Several weeks ago, a group of carefully-chosen students were contestants on Wheel of Fortune. The only one who mentioned her high SAT scores chewed gum offensively throughout the game. I also had to wonder about her academic standing when she asked, "Can I buy a `e'? Can I buy a `o'?" So much for these high achievers.

On Wall Street Week, Louis Rukeyser has defined English as "a language not spoken in Washington for years." For that matter, few speakers or writers the country over qualify as Blue Ribbon linguists. A playwright of some repute boasts that he "has been casted" for a role in a play he wrote. A Beatles fan writes of his "affection to the Beatles' legendary status." "Writers and airborne journalists report on offenders guilty to murder", convicted from shoplifting, or "arrested to stealing."

Of Lizzie Borden's haunted house, a Wire Service informs us that "doors close by themselves that haven't been open for years." Anyone out there itching to re-wire this statement?

Writers for commercials seem similarly afflicted, but this is hardly news, and alert readers can add to our examples. But note the almost-right word in a ploy for Ovaltine. An alleged consumer seems so elated to find her favorite drink back on the market, she exclaims fervently, "Ovaltine! Why, I've not had any forever!" Is "forever" limited to the past?

On an insurance commercial, a housewife credits the company with saving her husband's life. "He could of died real easy," she explains gratefully. To die real easy is nonetheless preferable to dying tediously. But does substandard language promote the cause of any business?

Computer literacy is one thing. Literacy in speaking and writing is quite another. An advocate for a Home Alone program suggests that children need to learn how to solve the problems they could face when left alone. To solve problems requires the ability to think. "Children must be individualized," the advocate points out.

Precisely so. A discovery made by the inventor of the printing press centuries ago.

~Aileen Lorberg is a language columnist for the Southeast Missourian.