The So-Called "Death of Books"

Unless you've been living under a rock for oh, about three years now, you're familiar with the concept of an e-reader or e-book. No longer are books simply paper-bound entities, you can buy digital copies of them, and read on an electronic device. While a number of companies have jumped into the fray, such as Sony and Barnes & Noble (the Nook), the two main players in this area seem to be Amazon's Kindle (and by extension the Kindle app for iPhone/iPod Touch/iPad), and Apple's newly released iPad - although to simply call the iPad an "e-reader" is a bit misleading because it is actually much more than that, but I digress and this is not a discussion about the iPad, so back off.

The primary draw of these devices seems to be - at least to me - portability. Imagine going on a two-week trip, and wanting reading material. Now imagine wanting to take 10 of your favorite books, as well as periodicals, with you. That's a lot of luggage space - unless you have a device that is less than and inch think, is about the size of an 8.5x11 piece of paper (or less), and weighs slightly more than a pound. Tempting, huh?

You would think that making books, newspapers, and magazines more accessible would be a good thing, but there appear to be two major camps: one thinks this is the greatest thing since movable type, and the other moans, "It's the death of books! I love my shelves and the feel of paper! I shall never use a digital reader, they are the evil spawn of Satan!" (Okay, that last bit might be hyperbole, but you get the idea.)

For myself, I was kind of skeptical of these digital reading devices. Were they really as easy on the eyes as books? Can I sit for hours reading without getting a headache? Portable they might be, but could I actually use it? I was unwilling to spend $300 dollars or so to find out. Then I bought an iPod Touch. Then a co-worker showed me all the e-reader apps in the App store - not just the Kindle app (which was free), but several that came pre-loaded with a fairly large selection of classics, books like A Christmas Carol and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland that are in the public domain and could be purchased for the low, low price of 99 cents - or in several cases were free. Free being free, well, I was in. After all, I could always delete the app if it sucked, right?

Oh... my... goodness.

In less than an hour, I had downloaded no fewer than five e-reader apps, including the Kindle app, Stanza, eReader, at least four classics collections, and a collection of the most important historical documents in history (the Constitution, the Gettysburg Address, the Magna Carta). I flicked open each app to test read. I was entranced - childishly thrilled with the "page turn" effect of the Classics app and it's virtual bookshelf (it even "bookmarks" your page when you close the book - hee, hee!). Almost instantly, I had close to 90 literature classics in my pocket, available for my reading pleasure at a moment's notice. It was a bibliophile's dream come true.

I downloaded Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief from the Kindle store. I read it for hours. No problem. The first three books from that series joined my collection in rapid succession.

A friend recommended the Harry Dresden series. Poof! Downloaded to Stanza.

If you're keeping count, that's almost 100 books. All on a device that weighs maybe 4 ounces and is only slightly bigger in dimension than a pack of cards. No more paging through trashy, outdated magazines in the doctor's office. No more wishing I had a bigger purse to carry around my current book. Cost? Oh, about $15-$20 at this point (the cost of the Kindle edition of books being much lower than their physical paper counterparts).

Okay, ability to carry lots of books - check. Actually able to read on it - check (and recall this is my little iPod touch screen, 2"x3" - I'd imagine the bigger screen of the Kindle or the iPad would only be better). What about ease of use?

I walked into Bruegger's bagel, ordered a chai latte, plopped myself down in a comfy chair, and started reading. It was actually easier than a book because I could turn a page by tapping the screen with my thumb, leaving my other hand free to hold my latte. It might have been the most enjoyable 30 minutes of waiting I've ever spent.

Could I read to my kids with it? An hour with my son proved I could.

Oh no! the bibliophiles scream. But what about books?

Keep your hoity-toity pants on. All this is not to say that I'll be getting rid of all my books. For starters, I have too many of them. Second, there is something very soothing to my soul to see shelves of quality hardback books. And there are some books I simply want to have in physical form - my complete Jane Austen, my complete works of Shakespeare, the Harry Potter series. Old books that have fallen out of print and aren't available digitally. But throwaway paperbacks? I might as well get the digital copy.

Gutenberg had a pretty good run - how many hundreds of years ago did it take to even start to displace the printing press? Further, I argue that digital books to not displace anything - they augment. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to read on a portable, digital device. And I can see it's use. A friend of mine is an avid reader of the NY Times. The week after he bought his iPad, the physical paper lay untouched - he read the entire thing online. Easier to carry around, easier to navigate, no black fingers from newsprint - no expensive subscription.

Anything that brings reading to a wider audience - that makes it easier to read - can only be a good thing, in my humble opinion. After all, does the soul of a book lie it the physical paper and binding, or is it in the words that are read? Anna Quindlen explored this topic in a recent Newsweek article. Is Shakespeare any less relevant in digital print? I think not.

The true soul of a story - whether a fiction novel or a factual biography/news story - is in the words of the writer, the emotions they evoke, the actions they prompt. If you read a story about the environmental damage of throwing away plastic bottles on the New York Times website, and it prompts you to reuse/recycle, is that story any less powerful because the media was digital? Um, no. If you read "Romeo and Juliet" on an e-reader, are Shakespeare's words any less true and vibrant, is the point any less relevant? Hardly. The words and intent are what is important, not the delivery mechanism.

And just as Beethoven's 9th is no less powerful because I have it digitally on my iPod, the words of Keats or Shelley are no less powerful because they are in digital form. Tell a good story, it matters not how people read it. Tell a crappy story and all the fine paper, fancy illustrations, and fine binding in the world won't make a difference. Just look at Moby Dick. =)

I can also see where digital media would be a boon to aspiring writers. After all, what is the biggest barrier to getting published (okay, after you finish the story)? Convincing some big publishing house that your work is worth the not insignificant cost of printing, binding, shipping, and storing a book. That manufacturing/storage cost is not to be scoffed at. Why can Apple offer songs for 99 cents on iTunes? Because they have almost no overhead - no CDs to burn, liner notes to print, cases to manufacture, or inventory to store. It's all ephemeral bits and bytes. Now imagine some enterprising soul starting a company to do digital publishing for up-and-coming writers. You pay a nominal fee to upload your story/novel/whatever, and folks can download it for a small fee. Will you be a blockbuster author like Tom Clancy? Maybe not, but you'll have the satisfaction of pushing your story out for people to read. And who knows, if you have enough success, maybe you can convince Simon & Schuster, or Knopf, or Houghton/Mifflin that you're worth the investment.

So to all you outraged bibliophiles I say this: relax. Books are not dead. They live on in the hearts of readers everywhere, on bookshelves and libraries across the planet.

And on my iPod.