Books are Hot

In Gary Shteyngart’s humorous, futuristic novel, Super Sad True Love Story, the characters are horrified by the smell of real books. They do all their reading—but mostly, shopping—on the small devices strung around their necks.

And in the City Room Blog of the New York Times yesterday, Lisa Lewis begged, “Ladies and Gentlemen, take out your books!”

In her essay called “How E-Readers Destroyed My Love Life,” she writes about her trouble meeting cool people on a city subway or in a chic grocery store when their eyes are buried behind a fancy eReader. The problem? She can’t see the title of the book they’re reading, and for a single city gal, a man’s literary penchants are as important as his sense of humor when it comes to falling in love.

I totally understand. I don’t always judge a book by its cover (actually, I kind of do), but I often assume things about a person based on the book he or she is reading. More than that, I just love knowing. People seem more robotic on airplanes with their suede Kindle covers than a glossy or worn paperback. Like Lisa Lewis, I have had great conversations with strangers about books. Once, on the San Francisco BART train, a woman commented on how much she liked the book I was reading. It was Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. I responded in kind to a woman reading the same book in my local Starbucks over a year later. Just recently, while on a couples vacation with my husband, I approached someone reading The Help outside our hotel’s cafe. She was enthralled, and I was excited to talk to her about it, especially since I enjoyed it the year before, on our previous trip to Florida. She was happy I came over, and we realized that our hometowns were only 40 minutes away from each other.

Books have the power to connect us in cold places and warm places, and I imagine that if I were living on my own in New York City, I would sorely miss seeing who I had something in common with, even if we were never to actually meet. The covers of books decorate a tall bookshelf in my living room, and then fill two boxy ones in my basement, and then again, hang out in neat stacks in my bedroom. Sometimes, when I’m feeling lazy or restless, I stare at the spines and read the titles, mentally ticking off the ones I’d still like to read (and beating myself up for not doing it already), the ones I enjoyed or felt so-so about, and the ones from my husband’s college collection, which I have no interest in. Volumes come and go, littering our coffee table, end tables, and small, chaotic shelves on our porch. When we move out of this house, the thing we will dread transporting the most are the books.

But the things I love the most are the books.

Now, my friends, the paradox. I, Jana Llewellyn, skeptic of technology, lover of print, fearer of the digital apocalypse, love my eReader, too.

I’ve actually become a connoisseur of eBook apps. Instead of piling thick books on top of other books on shelves that can’t hold them, I can select a book through an Application on the iPhone or iPad–even your local library has them, for free–and read it in minutes. The only space it takes up is computer memory. I’ve tried all of the book apps as though someone were paying me (sadly, no), and relish the ease with which I can turn a page or highlight resonant passages. (In case you’re wondering, iBooks is the closest in tone to a real book, but doesn’t have a night-reading option, while Kindle syncs multiple devices so you can always read on your phone. Stanza allows you to move your finger up or down to adjust the brightness of the text, making it perfect for sneak-reading in bed next to your sleeping spouse.)

And then, as an unexpected surprise, my husband bought me a Kindle. Crazy, I know, since we have an iPad (which my son and daughter have commandeered), and since I try to stick to the Quaker principle of simplicity, and since those suckers aren’t cheap. But I can’t turn down a gift, can I? Especially a make-up gift for the days he transformed into a human grizzly bear before turning back into himself. And besides…it’s so cool.

It is so light. So simple and direct. The interface looks like paper and it’s thin enough to fit in one’s purse and when you want to turn a page, you just click. And then when you want to turn another one, you can use your other hand and just click. And when you want to highlight something or write a note, rather than grabbing a pen, you just click, click-clickety-click-click. And when you need to stop reading for the time being, you don’t have to search around for a maxi pad or something to use as a bookmark. Your place is just simply, marvelously saved.

Even better, kids don’t like it, because there are no colors or noises or moving pictures. Which makes it perfect for moms, who never realized they’d be forced to share everything.

Even now, I’m actually considering reading the 1,000 page Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace, a book I prematurely reviewed on Goodreads with only 1 star because I was annoyed by the heft of it. But now? On a Kindle? I think I may give it a try. That and about 15 other classics I can get for free.

What are we losing with e-Readers? Covers, the ability to feel the printed word, to surround ourselves with the life and worlds of pages in books. The ability to say, “Here, read this,” and hand someone a bendable object whose every page was touched by human hands. The freedom of not having to plug something in, ever, or worry about your coffee spilling and messing with an internal computer. This is why, when I bought Ann Patchett’s new book State of Wonder, I decided I wanted it in print form. She’s one of my favorite authors, and I want to see its thickness glittering on the coffee table. I want to imagine, each and every time I pass it on my way to the kitchen, or up the stairs, what the “wonder” means, what world I will enter when I open that first page.

I suspect I will continue to feel this way about certain books. Even in a digital world, we need a break from digitization. As in all things, moderation is key. Meanwhile, I’m going to have my Kindle and read it too.

The most important thing, I’d tell the smart Lisa Lewis, is that people are reading.

How do you feel about the eReader revolution? Do you think it will change the way we read?

First image: “Kindle by Candlelight” by midnightglory via Flickr using a Creative Commons license.

Second image: “Books” by amidfallenleaves via Flickr using a Creative Commons license.

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Tagged as: Ann Patchett, City Room, e-readers, Gary Shteyngart, iPad, iPhone, Kindle, New York Times, reading apps