the evil mr. kindle

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. 
~William Wordsworth~

I am a simple gal.  Hence, I believe from the depths of my soul that there are some things in life upon which we should not attempt to improve. 

For example, books.  Books are satisfying in and of themselves.  They just have to ‘be’ and they’re fulfilling. Books have existed for centuries just fine thankyouverramuch without the necessity of a major overhaul. 

So.

I would love to write to the person who invented the Kindle or the Nook or any other electronic device with which one would bypass the pleasures of good old-fashioned paper and glue.  I’d simply ask him ‘Why?!’  What possessed you?  Why all the hate?

WHAT DID BOOKS EVER DO TO YOU?

And dadgum it, I’d write that letter on paper.  Real paper. I wouldn’t even send him an electronic email.  Maybe with his paper phobia, he also has an aversion to stationery.

TAKE THAT, BOOK WRECKER.

In fairness, being a lifelong book connoisseur, I totally get the initial appeal of a Kindle. It’s sleek, it’s compact, and it can hold a treasure trove of literature.  Books can be downloaded in minutes.  Wherever you have Internet connectivity, whatever the time of day, books are yours for the taking.

And a credit card number.

Ooooh.  Ahhhh.

VERY SEXY.

However. I have implicitly and repeatedly beseeched my husband and sons to not, for even one moment of their valuable lives, consider gifting me with the Kindle Beast this Christmas.  I am not the least bit tempted by the seduction.

Please give me a moment while I go hug all my Real Books.

WHEW.

We all feel a little better now, don’t we?

I find reading to be pleasurable on a myriad of levels. Outside of the pure joy of being completely immersed in a really good storyline, there is something vital about the tangible feel of paper, the smell of fresh ink in a new book. And yes, for the record, I do sniff books when I open them. Each and every one I buy.  And old books, why those especially wind me up with their comforting aroma of mustiness. 

OH QUIRKY ME.

I love big glossy photos in magazines.  Not that my house will ever resemble anything even remotely akin to Martha Stewart’s ‘Living’. Sometimes it’s just healthy to pretend. I savor the abbreviated snippets of articles wherein it’s necessary to shuffle forward 62 pages to find out the Rest of the Story.  A new-fangled, fun way to read.  Half here, half there.

WAY CLEVER.

And there is an honest sense of inner peace when I turn the tissue-thin pages of my Bible and hear the whispery-soft crinkle of the paper in the stillness of the early morning.

SIGH.

So.

For all the Kindle and Nook Lovers of the World, please remember the roots of your book obsession.  Was it merely the words or was there more?

Dig deep, ponder thoughtfully.

THERE WILL BE A QUIZ AT THE END OF THIS BLOG.

The deal clincher for me was the day I walked into Barnes & Noble, past the Nook counter.  On this particular day, a very distraught woman was being told that not only had her Nook painfully and unexpectedly expired, it also took a few hundred dollars worth of irretrievable books with it to the grave.

And me?  Well. I walked over to the ‘Newly-Released Best Sellers’ shelf picked up a hardcover book … and inhaled deeply.