A Flame UnKindled

I received a Kindle ® electronic book reader for my birthday. I broke the North American record for authorization to return it complete with packing label and tracking number. Believe me, I appreciated the thought but the Kindle ® is not for me, although it may be just ticket for those who read bestsellers, travel for extended periods, or need access to technical manuals or textbooks.

Since retirement I have become a woman of leisure. Sampling the simple delights of life has become my full time job. Those delights include books. For one thing I simply don’t like reading electronic text. I have a very short attention span for photons smashing themselves onto a computer screen. If what I read is true so do most people. It seems that the ideal way to write for the Internet is in an “F” shape. Only the first few lines are read to the end, thereafter the eye starts cutting off the right side text.

I want to enjoy what I am reading and have the time to do just that. That enjoyment extends to the book as artifact. The tactile experience, the dimensions of a physical entity, the type, illustrations, binding, paper, cover and convenience of the book is important to the total experience of reading. And I never have to recharge a book!

If I am doing research I will have several books open at the same time to compare, augment, check, or refute. Flipping screens cannot match the cluttered desk approach. Furthermore, I seem to have a quirky memory. While I do not have a photographic memory, I can easily recall the approximate location and page placement of something I have read in a book. Whether reading non-fiction or novels, it is not uncommon for me to check back on what I had read. Again, the paper book is superior for these functions.

When I read non-fiction, I write in my books. This admission would make my fellow librarian colleagues cringe, but it’s my book. I use the end papers for personal indexing, noting important concepts as they unfold throughout the book. The process is not a duplication of the good book’s index. It is more personal. Years after I’ve read a book I can consult the back pages to review something from the book and will know just where to find it in the text. Sometimes I highlight text as I read; often I write comments on the page as I read. It’s only vandalism when it doesn’t belong to you.

Does the physical book have disadvantages? Well, it isn’t “green” although some paper has been recycled. Many of my better books are printed on archival paper. They will last. Whether this is good for the earth or not, it is good for those books that are keepers. A second disadvantage comes from the fact the books take up space. In my home, a lot of space! We recently reached a point of desperation. My husband often says, “We don’t have enough book shelves.” I tell him we never will.

To that end I have been weeding my collections. Weeding is the term librarians use to remove books from the library’s collection. Weeding has always been the part of my job that I hated. It is no different at home. It is difficult to make choices that will result in the permanent loss of a good friend. This time drastic measures were necessary. There is just one more room of books to weed. It contains my science, math, psychology, thesis research material, and writers’ resource books. It will be very painful indeed to cull this carefully collected group.

What criteria have I used in my recent weeding? If the book was on a topic I’ve lost interest in, it was removed. If I never read, and would probably never read it, the book is gone. If a title was part of one of my special collections, but a weak entry, I removed it. I have amassed very choice collections in Celtic History and Culture, Medieval History, Fairy tales and myths, Native American legends and arts, History of Science and Math, History of Philosophy, Nobel Science biography, certain mystery writers and a few fiction writers.

If the weeded titles were on a Kindle® they could be deleted. The mental of image of deleting my friends is painful. However, most of my books would not be available to “download” anyway. What will I do with my old friends? Mostly I will try to find them a new home; new readers. Some I will donate to the library. These might end up in their collection—they’re good enough—or in the next book sale. We may take some to a second hand book store and sell them for a pittance. Maybe these will find their way into good homes. A very, very few will end up in the trash.

I do not regret the return of my birthday present. Whatever the fate of books and reading, the physical book will remain important to me. Even the pain of weeding old friends cannot dissuade me. Books are part of my life, part of me. If that makes me less au courant, “uncool”, or old fashioned, so be it.