There was a lot to digest in this chapter on the rise of ebooks. Personally, I found the detailed historical account a little overwhelming, but it brought up several things that I found very interesting. The section on bookshelves and the middle class’ desire to fill them with some form or fashion of book was absolutely fascinating. The US book industry recognized that they were in quite a slump, so they found a way to turn things around without people knowing that they had been tricked into buying more books. Pure genius.
Though it was incredibly clever, the book industry’s bookshelf campaign is not, I feel, the most notable portion of the chapter. My favorite quote comes from the Chronicle of Higher Education comic -- “the problem with ebooks is that they are ebooks.” Well said, indeed. I don’t dislike reading an ebook because it’s an ebook, I dislike it because it’s not a printed book. Just like I don’t like reading on my phone or computer. I don’t have a problem with technology, but if I’m going to read a book, I’m going to read a book.
The chapter continued this distinction between books and other reading material when it noted that “ebooks fail to duplicate the serendipitous flaws and minor variations” that “imbue industrially manufactured printed books with warmth, difference, and depth” (pg. 24). I could not have said it better myself. There is something to be said for an actual, physical copy of a book -- it’s like holding a piece of humanity in your hands. It’s a physical manifestation of someone’s hopes and dreams (and likely their blood, sweat, and tears, too).
The chapter talks about the ‘weightlessness’ of the digital world -- in a blink of an eye, online books can vanish without a trace. They are not permanent. Digital books do not exist in quite the same way that printed books do. Books occupy a physical place -- and when you read them, you are grounded in that place for as long as you like. When you finish an ebook, it’s gone. However, the earmarked pages of a printed book are always there to take you back to where you were the first time you read it.
Take a look at this. Jesse England photocopied his Kindle to create a hardbound back up copy of George Orwell’s 1984. So when his ebook disappears because the internet saw fit to destroy it, Mr. England will not be left empty handed.
The chapter goes on to suggest that “technology is a license to forget” (pg. 25). I don’t want to forget what I’ve read. I want to remember the story and how it made me feel and what it made me think. I don’t want all memory of it to vanish as soon as I read the last page. I want to share it with my family or my friends, and one day with my children. For me, books are something that have the ability to cross time and space, gender and generations. Technology breaks your physical and emotional ties to what you have read, and for me, that’s what it is all about. Reading is more than just words -- it’s about the entire experience, something that ebooks just can’t offer.
But what about photocopies? What about them, you might ask. Well, photocopies are just as printed and tangible as regular books. What makes them any less of a product. Perhaps they are an even better product because you are getting the printed book experience at a fraction of the cost. My personal opinion is that yes, while reading a photocopied version is better than reading it online or on a Kindle, there is no replacement for the smell and feel of a printed book. That’s all, folks.
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