I haven’t bought a Kindle, and I won’t. I don’t want to have a Kindle—I don’t want one, I tell you. I dislike electronic gadgets and avoid them when possible. Sure, I have a computer and a cell phone, I must have these. (My particular cell phone, however, is many years old and so it is quite a stupid one.) I even have a fancy little recording device on which I record podcasts. I was told that any self-respecting author creates podcasts of their writing, and so I couldn't help it.
But a Kindle? Must I have one to read books? Of course not. (Well, not yet any way.) I love paper-and-ink books; they are a comfort to me. I will admit I am just harkening back to the past—my past. I remember being comforted by books when I was a small child. I liked holding them and reading them and being read to. And I want that same comfort as an adult. I’ve even started collecting books, particularly older editions from the early- and mid-20th century. I like the way they look and feel, their sturdy construction, and the vintage graphic designs on the covers. Oh, what a doddering old fart I am, eh?
But I also understand the big picture. I know that I am simply a little point on a wide spectrum of time. In maybe 20 years, paper-and-ink books will become rare; we will have to get Kindles if we want to read new books. People like me will become quite nostalgic about the old days of paper and ink.
Ah, but then in a hundred years there will be a new way of communicating stories and ideas. The old fogies will become nostalgic about the good old days of Kindles. “Remember, honey, when we used to have those cute little Kindles, and we got stories by reading from a friendly little screen? Those were the days. Nowadays ideas just get wired directly into our brains—what’s the fun of that?”
We can look at ancient history and find similar situations. Before stone tablets were invented, people had to remember information as it was handed down orally. All learning was done by memorization. When the stone tablet came along, some people were horrified. “What will become of people’s minds?” they asked. “We’ve always kept them sharp by memorizing information. But with this new invention, if you want to know something all you need do is read it off a damn stone tablet. Pure laziness! Our brains will turn to mush!”
An acquaintance of mine recently pulled out his brand new iPad, of which he was very proud. “Look at this,” he said. He changed its position from vertical to horizontal, and the image on the screen automatically adapted to the new orientation. He looked at my face to see how impressed I’d be. But I disappointed him by shrugging. I said, “So you brought it home from the store and opened the box and found some wires and an instruction booklet inside?” He nodded. “Well, let me tell you something,” I said, “and this is really amazing, you won’t believe it. I bought an old vintage book through the mail, and when the box arrived at my door I opened it up. Inside was a 1928 edition of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. I pulled the book out and—well, I simply opened the pages, and I started reading! No wires, no batteries, no instructions! The words were just right there! It was incredible!”
After giving me a deadpan stare my acquaintance returned to his iPad. (Mind you, it too is called a tablet.)
