My mom used to say, as we pulled the car into the garage on any humid August day, “Well, we air-conditioned the house. We air-conditioned the car.  If only we had air-conditioned the garage.”

I thought of my mother yesterday as I experienced a gap in comfort on my plane flight from Tampa.  I had brought my Nook, loaded with dozens of downloaded books, and was merrily reading when the flight attendant announced, “Please turn off all electronic devices, including phones, computers, and Kindles.”

For just a minute, I considered taking advantage of the loophole, because I don’t have a Kindle, I have a Nook, but I followed the spirit rather than the letter of the law and powered down.

I’m not afraid of flying, but I’m afraid of flying—or waiting in the doctor’s office or watching television or sitting in a chair—without reading.  So, I added this period of prohibited Nook usage  to my list of reasons why I hope books will never disappear. 

Here are the arguments on my list:

You can’t hand the book to the person you just know would love it.  You can “lend” a book to fellow Nook owner, or you can recommend one, but still . . .

You can’t bend the page down to mark your place, or watch your bookmark (the same one you used for The Thornbirds and Unbroken and I Feel Bad About my Neck) move closer to the back of the book.  You can use an electronic bookmark, but still . . .

You can’t highlight pithy phrases, or write the name of the real-life person a character resembles, or circle words you want to steal for your own writing.  There is a kind of clunky feature that allows you to highlight electronically, but still . . .

 

With an e-reader, you miss that tactile pleasure of touching the paper—thick linen pages, slicksatiny pages, tissue-thin Bible pages—and leaving your invisible (or chocolatey visible) fingerprint on the page.   You can smudge up an e-reader screen, but still , , ,

And a whiff of a device just isn’t the same as the ink, must, and dust perfume of an old library book.

My biggest objection is that electronic readers will leave so much space on bookshelves in homes, classrooms, and libraries.  My Nook in its case has a width of half an inch. It takes up less space than a poetry book.

My official bookcase . . . but there are piles of books on every horizontal surface in my house

This is more than a furniture crisis; it is the death of an art form.  What is more beautiful than multi-colored, multi-size books on a book shelf?  Their arrangement on the shelf, whether by Dewey Decimal or size or color or date of acquisition, is a kind of performance art that is altered whenever a reader grabs one to read.  The composition of this literary canvas invites—often compels—the reader to sample the offerings.

And without my bookshelves, how will you learn about me–my passions, my dreams, my history?

Quite often people mingle in the midst of library or store bookshelves and sample the contents in companionable, reverential silence. They engage in the sensuous act of feasting at the page, an orgy of words.

Sometimes these readers reach out to each other:

“This was amazing,” one says, showing the cover of City of Thieves.

“Have you read Goldfinch?  Overrated, right?  Too damn long.”

“If you like Erik Larson, try Chris Bojalian.”

Early in the literary landscape of mankind, people used books to promote conversation and navigate relationships.  Libraries were the first social networks—way before Facebook and Twitter.  How will reading change if we don’t have to go anywhere to buy, borrow, or lend books?  When we can’t go into our libraries to love our books?

I have a few friends who loathe using  e-mail, Facebook, and text to communicate.  They say we should call people on the phone.  I guess it’s funny that I don’t feel I lost that much when I shifted most of my distant communication to the computer.

 

But losing books seems positively tragic to me.  I don’t think I could bear the day when the shelves are empty.

Admittedly, my Nook is a wonderful option for traveling.  I know people can read just as well on a little electronic devises, and they can buy books without ever leaving their easy chairs, but still . . .

 

SOME FUNNY LINKS FOR BIBLIOPHILES

Hilarious Video about this Newfangled Invention, the BOOK

A Medieval Help Desk for the Novice Book Reader

A Video That’s a Feast for Your Reading Eyes

How about wearing the text of a book on a t-shirt?  Or how about a literary tattoo?

Copyright © 2015 Sandy Lingo, All Rights Reserved 

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