In his essay "Into the Electronic Millenium," critic Sven Birkerts contemplates the bleak future awaiting literature and literacy in the wake of the computer age. Birkerts begins the essay with a story about an ex-professor who decides to sell his library and replace it with his computer. The man tells the author, "I'm going to change my life. . . This is definitely where it's all going to happen" (390). Using this story as his springboard, Birkerts goes on to express his anxieties over how the growth of technology may affect life, writing, and the printed word.

Birkerts points back to oral tradition, showing how it was overtaken slowly by early print and writing technology. Recognizing the fact that major technological breakthroughs are constantly occurring, Birkerts spends the majority of the essay laying out possible scenarios that may result from these changes. He identifies three chief fears for the years ahead, the first of which he calls "language erosion" (396).

The idea behind language erosion is that carefully crafted words, created by what Birkerts calls "syntactic masonry," will give way to "plainspeak" on the computer (396). His second concern is that, as historical reference materials become more and more readily available via databases, the "depth and dimensionality" of recorded history, as represented by books, will disappear (397). Birkerts' last major concern is that the concept of a private life is being torn apart by the intrusion of technology. He asserts that we live in a world where people are constantly within reach. As Birkerts caustically puts it, "We are already captive in our webs. . . The strands of the web grow finer and finer--this is obvious" (398).

It is clear throughout the essay that Birkerts is fearful of the advancement of technology. While I agree with him on some points, it seems as though conservatism often underscores his arguments. One such example is in his rationalization over those people who wish to challenge college and university canons. He writes, "Many of those who would revise the canon (or end it altogether) are trying to outflank the assumption of historical tradition itself" (394). On the contrary, many of those who challenge the canon are merely trying to give voices to the talented writers who, throughout history, were kept from the canon due to prejudice. Such statements are, in my opinion, far-reaching and narrowminded.

On the other hand, the scenarios that Birkerts lays out all provoke serious thought as to just what may be ahead. Some of the changes that he discusses are already in existence, such as early technology for Sony's electronic book. Other changes, such as the idea that libraries will serve as museums in the future, seem to disregard the power of literature and the deep attachment that people have to it. However, Birkerts cannot be faulted for his lack of faith in literature, for he admits that he may be guilty of not giving writing the proper credit. He writes, "We may discover, too, that language is a hardier thing than I have allowed. It may flourish as it ever did on the printed page" (398). I agree with Birkerts in the sense that language is powerful and will not be pushed aside so easily. If all is handled well, the electronic age could open more people up to writing and make the written word more available. However, that is not to say that I am not a little afraid myself.