It seemed strange to read in THE NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW's interview with Amanda Knox that she depended on reading to maintain sanity in the Italian prison. That's what most of us would believe pre-digital times. Now, books are hardly anyone's emotional, spiritual or even intellectual salvation. At least not anyone on my networks.
Several at my colleagues back in the auto industry used to opine that a stint in the slammer would be a vacation for them. That's because they could do all the reading they ever wanted to do. Bosses who retired gushed that for the next six months they would just read. I craved to have the time to learn Russian and then read Tolstoy et al. in their native language.
Then came digital. When I tunnel into myself, which is a dangerous place to be for someone with a history of severe depression, I don't reach for a book. I surf the web to my favorite provocative spots like Abovethelaw.com, especially the comment section.
I doubt if the correctional system, federal or state, would allow me the hardware and the WiFi to remain whole. Books wouldn't do it. They did, though, years ago. That's why I majored in literature and didn't stop until I was working on a dissertation on the novels of Thomas Hardy. When I lived in Spain, I was a regular at the bookstore. In my early days of executive communications, I peppered speeches, books, and articles I ghostwrote with the wisdom from the great authors. Currently, clients want allusions to Mark Zuckerberg and TECH CRUNCH.
Books have become all-business. I read them to review them and to present ideas to clients. I ghostwrite books to help clients share their ideas on how to make more money. In our interactions we never sit around and praise the beauty of a sentence or paragraph. We do, though, commend the cleverness of how BUSINESS INSIDER built itself to such a high-traffic digital media property.
If Knox has to return to prison after this next trial, I wish her well with the books.