So, off and on for the past few months, I have noticed – through Twitter, Facebook & now semi-confirmed by Wired – that Apple might is planning on getting “in” on the notebook craze. From what I’ve read, they’re aiming for a tablet size, but who’s going to buy it for anything more than an eBook reader?

While I am no Apple fangirl – I’m a PC but I will defend my iPhone ‘til kingdom comes – there’s something really weird about Kindles and the like that rub me the wrong way.

Nothing in the world will replace that squishy emotion you get when you read a brand new book. That excited feeling that comes over you when cracking open those fresh pages that have been sitting on the shelf since they arrived at your local bookstore from the publisher. The fresh ink wafts up your nose and creates a new memory for you even if you end up abhorring the book.

You can’t exactly put it on your bookshelf by author, or by size. You can’t drool over the cover the same way you would if it were tangible. You can get them in large type if you have bad eyes.

No new memories will be created reading a used book’s prior dedication to someone they called “sweetheart,” whom they thought might “like this book,” and in closing, greets the reader “happy birthday.” You can daydream about the people who owned it previously, and wonder if their lives were as crazy as yours. Or maybe it was from a lover to a lover, a grandmother to her youngest grandchild who can’t read very well just yet, or maybe because it’s so brand-new, it was given to someone who didn’t like to read at all. Somehow, by fate, you picked up the book in a used bookstore and now it’s yours to read and cherish. How did the book end up there? Was it by choice? Did they pass on? You’ll never know for sure, but that’s the beauty of it all.

Copyright dates will become obsolete because the books will never be “old.” They’ll be as new as when you bought them from a download site. But no books printed in 1915 – which means it will have seen 2 world wars in its time – will survive by the time you get your grubby paws on it. As such, this sort of tangible thread to a historical period will cease to exist. Material history in the form of books will be archaic.

Outdated and racist books will be whitewashed, deleted, or removed because of “offensive” content. A retailer can control what you download and make it impossible for you to read “Mein Kampf” if you wanted to on a purely scholastic level. It suddenly won’t be “compatible” with your reader, or the download site will say “it is against our policies to stock ‘The Communist Manifesto.’”

Books that you read as a child won’t be passed to your own children. The same books you practiced writing your name in. The ones that gave you comfort in a fucked up world when you felt that everyone was against you. The books that taught you lessons about how to use the bathroom, treat your siblings nicely, and keep your room clean. The books you traded up for that got you through puberty, your first love(s), and opened the door to Adulthood. These memories you created will vanish like fog on a sunny day. These memories can’t be shared the same way.

Your favorite authors can’t sign a Kindle. What are you gonna give them because you can’t not meet your author without giving them something. Perhaps a scrap of paper? Are you going to buy their book again – and at full price? You’re paying for their livelihood when you buy it in hardcover or paperback. So you might as well do the right thing and get it in a tangible form.

You can’t cuddle up with an eBook reader in the dead of winter, engulfed in a blanket and a hot cuppa in front of the fire. What if you spilled a significant amount of your drink on it? At least with a book you can blow dry the pages until they are readable. Is there a replacement policy for human error like liquids spilling? You can’t take a Nook to the beach and leave it with your towel when you want to swim because you know that some dishonest person will snatch it when you’re under the waves. The investment is not as bad if it is an actual book.

If you hate an eBook that you read for pleasure, you can’t return it. Not only did you buy it for cheap, no retailer is going to honor your “receipt” for an intangible good. An obvious plus is no late fees from the library but where’s the fun in that? In most instances, you can’t borrow an eBook for scholarly research. You have to buy it outright.

While carrying several books from five different college classes is a pain in the ass, that’s a part of life that every student should experience. I did it; everyone else should suffer this insignificant trial of being a college student. Besides, could you trust a klutzy teenager – or trust their classmates with sticky fingers – with a Kindle? I think not. You can’t resell an eTextbook if you need some quick cash at the end of your semester.

You can’t lend anyone a book that they might like. You can’t write in the margins easily. I’m pretty sure I read of an upgrade on the Kindle where you could. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m not sure. I’ve never liked the idea of a Kindle to begin with so I haven’t done my research.

There are some things that are improved by technology that should be embraced: cars, computers, phone service, mobile phones, cable lines, televis etc. I am against the eBook reader movement because it takes away the most fundamental joy in life: reading a book the way it was meant to be enjoyed.

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 3rd, 2010 at 12:24 pm and is filed under Commentary, Creative Writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.