This semester, after I chose to take three reading-intensive courses and three Honors courses, I realized shortly after that I had also chosen to spend almost two thousand dollars on textbooks.
The Kindle, supposedly, is much cheaper than a bookstore, enabling one to instantly purchase full literary anthologies for a dollar. Even a few Iphone apps feature extensive collections of short stories and poetry for mere cents, and, somewhat relatedly, lately Itunes has made available highly ranked professor's lectures on Itunes U for free. Literary knowledge abounds these days at a lower price than ever--and, as Kindles and other e-readers are continually popularized, the price gets only lower.
How, coming from a writer's perspective, can this be negative?
As it turns out, quite simply. I, being a writer, tend to make a big deal out of books. When I need a new story to enthrall me, I care about the journey to find it. I decide which local bookstore I'm in the mood to visit with on that particular day. Often, I choose to walk to said bookstore (notebook in hand so I can scribble random observations along the way)--preferably one with which I already have some sort of rapport with the owner and employees (Here, Blue Cypress on Oak Street is my favorite for used books, while Maple Street Bookshop is my usual choice for newer titles. At home, Farley's, a famous hole-in-the-wall in New Hope, PA has been almost a second home to me since I was thirteen.) Usually, once arriving, I'm apt to spend a few hours perusing titles, reading and replacing, sometimes even agonizing, before making a choice. During that time, I'm overhearing conversations of other book-buyers and employees, recommending books, trading views on everything from fiction to poetry to local author readings and events--all knowledge and experience that I can't get out of an e-book.
Sure, I oversentimentalize. But, books have changed my life, and every time I buy a new one, I'm opening myself to another potential change. Books force me to understand the people around me, to learn about different cultures and ideas--in short, to grow. I don't want to grow with a credit card and the click of a button. For such a rich reward, I want to appreciate the experience that preceded it.
I feel like, with the new potential for overload in e-books, I could get caught up in too much availability and stop appreciating the interactions, the journey, and, eventually, the prize gained. If I can so easily read anything at any time, how can I appreciate any of it at all?
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I sort of agree. I guess my major contention with this idea of the experience of buying literature is that it may be a thing of the past already. I don't even have a local bookstore in my city, just a Barnes and Nobles and a Borders. And Amazon is putting both of those in dire straights right now. I guess we see it a lot nowadays in most places: A Chain moves in with cheaper prices and more selection, and there goes the small bookstore. The funny thing is that Borders still tries to have things like book signings to replicate the 'local' experience that must be similar to what you describe. The Wal-mart Supercenter effect. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it may be lamentable, but probably died long before e-books even came to the table.
ReplyDeleteI think another thing we ought to consider is the quality of the literature itself. Obviously buying a used Handmaid's Tale is different from seeing it on a screen, but I think there would still be a certain amount of appreciation the literature itself, it's just that, like you said, the experience of obtaining it would lose a vast amount of sentimentality.
ReplyDeleteThis might not be the correct post under which to raise this issue, and I raise it with all intention of playing the Devil's Advocate*, but I have to wonder when the makers of Purell and other hand sanitizers are going to hop on the ereader train. Think about it: buying a used book at a bookstore, or even a new book--a book that has gone through countless hands that have wiped noses and who knows what else--is comparable to scraping gum off the sidewalk and chewing it. Well... almost. So again, I wonder who's going to start talking about the "sanitizable" qualities of the ereader first? (And, oh, I just hope it isn't the ipad, b/c that would just be too cruel a play on words!) I wonder what kind of superbugs might emerge as a result of the antimicrobial coating that all future ereaders could contain (the ebooks themselves then safely contained). I wonder...
ReplyDelete*Note: I agree w/ Kerry. I have countless wonderful memories of scouring used bookstores with my dad, by myself, or even with the strange owner that might take a little too much time helping you to find a good read. And I do enjoy the musty smell of a book when fanned into the face. (If I tried that with my Kindle, I might knock myself out.)
"I feel like, with the new potential for overload in e-books, I could get caught up in too much availability and stop appreciating the interactions, the journey, and, eventually, the prize gained. If I can so easily read anything at any time, how can I appreciate any of it at all?"
ReplyDeleteI agree with this wholeheartedly. My family was always low-income, and spending money was tight. If I wanted a book, I usually had to wait till Christmas or my birthday. I still do. When I started working, my money had to go to necessary evils like gas and college funds, and I again had to balance my love of reading with my tight budget. I learned how to abuse libraries. I borrowed books like a thief. Most of my books are used, which taught me the love of used bookstores like Kerry described. The biggest part of my love for reading was the challenge, the anticipation, and the trapeze act it usually took for me to get them.
So naturally I was pretty excited to hear the cheap availability of ereader texts. But this post made me remember what it was about books that made me fall in love with reading in the first place, and it has nothing to do with technology for me.
But I stand my ground in saying that I think the ereader technology will have much to offer in many ways, and I don't deny that the features which we spurn may one day be what endears them to future generations. Just because we have been enchanted by books doesn't mean that the e-reader won't be just as magical to some for other reasons. What about those who would never read otherwise? What about low-income families?
My little brother will never read anything I suggest, but he sure got excited when I told him about the kindle. Whether or not he actually would read on it is still doubtful, but seeing someone that opposed to books get excited at the prospect of reading, even if just because of it being a technological activity, thrills me.
Just because we seasoned readers squirm at the thought of hard plastic and downloadable titles doesn't mean they don't deserve just as much reverence as the pulp and paper beauty of a novel.
As much as I'd like to think otherwise, the bookstore business is already decreasing, much like Andrew M. said. In my hometown alone, there is only one Barnes & Noble, and our Borders closed down close to two years ago. As a child, I remember going to B&N and scouring the aisles looking for books while my mother inhabited the magazine section--she has an unhealthy obsession with home improvement and architectural magazines. I never had enough money for all the books I wanted, and usually had to limit myself to two or three although I could have easily walked with away with five or six. Now, however, it seems that bookstores don't hold as many books and oftentimes I find myself having to request them when only a few years ago any book I wanted would be within reach. The decrease in books has to do with the increase in online shopping, and with the e-reader, I think bookstores will start to close down more than ever although e-readers can certainly provide other positives.
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