I've been wrestling with buying a Kindle, or a Nook or some electronic book device that will enable me to be a walking books I've-not-yet-read library. I normally carry at least one book and magazine with me at all times lest I actually have a moment not filled with checking my twitter feed or my e-mails or my facebook notifications. Normally I pack one fiction, one scholarly, and one travel essay collection. Just for a weekend in San Francisco-packed with birthday party functions, I still took two books with me. The problem was my mood, and so neither hit the spot. You know, that transported from the first page and suddenly it's hours later and you're in another universe. Not Borges nor Graham Greene, I tried to sink into one, then the other, for some reason was not instantly immersed, so sat on the plane, frustrated. Immediately I found the Barnes and Noble near my hotel, and bought "The Art of Travel" that I added to the San Francisco edition Moleskin birthday gift given the next day because it fit perfectly.
I am addicted to buying books. My Amazon visa card, and before that, my American Express card, can attest to how much I feed my fix. Lots of money and lots of trees have gone into my habit.
So I started thinking, what if I had a Kindle? I would have at least 50 choices on there, from Tolstoy's War and Peace to Alan Furst's "The Spies of Warsaw"
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/29/books/29masl.html I would have been able to read The New Yorker, and all the other magazines piling up all over my condo.
Everyone I ask loves theirs. They swear by the ability to carry a literary truck load in something the size of a DVD case, and the ability to look words up immediately by pointing the curser is one helluva selling point. And they can take it anywhere. Maybe except the bathtub, but I can't read in there anyway because my glasses keep fogging up.
I was sold, and was almost ready to click "add to cart" when I started thinking of how much I LOVE BOOKS. Real books. I love the feel, the smell of a book. I love turning pages. I love to plan curling up with a book with that perfect espresso or tea or wine or scotch or martini. My selection of drink always fits my choice of reading material. Sometimes I cheat and, trying not to read the ending, check where I am on the journey until that last page is turned. There is something really satisfying about closing in on that last page of a tomb like the fifth Harry Potter. Somehow I don't think it would be the same feeling coming up on the last downloaded page. How would you know? Books have weight.
I love to go to a bookstore with someone special, new or old friend, or lover, or relative, and buy them one of my favorite books I think they will enjoy. One of my most favorite things to do in a strange city is find the city's treasured bookstore. I lose myself in their stacks and always buy at least one new novel, and it becomes a cherished memory of where and when I read it.
I love to see what other people are reading. Stop into any Starbucks anywhere and anytime and you can see who you want to meet, even who you don't. How many great conversations and relationships begin with "what are you reading?" or "I read that, I loved it!". And how many times has that tell tale self help book steered us clear?
I love to gaze at my bookshelves to decide what I have not read and pull it off the shelf. And for friends, mine is a lending library with no late fees.
I love the idea that when traveling, you can find books people have left behind, and leave yours for future travelers. It's Used Book Diplomacy and it's a magical way to exchange ideas and cultures. Even in doctors offices and waiting rooms.
The Borders Bookstore near my home is closing because no one shops there anymore. At least not enough to pay to keep it open. It's a huge pinkish building, two stories with a cafe and it's the only bookstore in my neighborhood. I normally make a stop there at least once a month, now that I know they are soon to be gone, I have gone more often.
Yesterday I went and bought a few more. Even a couple of hardbacks. The place has been packed, with fire sale deals of 30% off and more. The shelves are a bit in disarray, picked over. Standing in line to check out, I realized something: the Kindle and all the rest of the virtual reading devices are elitist. Libraries and even bookstores are the great equalizers of society. Anyone can come and sit in a library and read. Bookstores welcome people sitting on their floors and in their cafes, pursing the shelves for hours. These electronic devices will be the death of bookstores, of libraries, and that would be tragic.
Readers of the world, unite.
