I’m torn about the Kindle.

One of my friends owns one, and in some respects, it’s really, really cool. If you go on a trip, you don’t have to leave your books behind to make room for souvenirs. It has really awesome screensavers, or whatever the images are called that are brought up for sleep mode. It’s filled with snazzy technology. You look cool when you read it. It has access to Wikipedia.

But something inside of me still sees it as innately wrong. While reading a book is a solitary activity, reading in general can be very social. When you are on a bus with a Kindle, nobody knows what you are reading. If you are an adult reading a Redwall book this is a blessing; but if you are a student who would love to have a conversation with a stranger that happens to also be a Pratchett or Bryson fan, good luck.

Kindles also represent the digitalizing and de-personalization of our social interactions. With book 1.0, you can talk with friends about which books are good. You can loan them out, or hide them among your friends’ possessions until they start reading your books in the hopes that it will get you to finally stop. You could write little notes in the margins, then sell the books to used book stores, and allow other people to ponder your brilliant commentary. With a Kindle, your book may never be tarnished, but it won’t travel. It won’t acquire multiple “Return To:” notes inside the cover. When picking books, you can get hundreds and thousands of reviews and recommendations, but those are from people you don’t know, or an algorithm. True, you can still discuss books with your friends. But a friend can’t let you borrow a Kindle book; if they really think you should read The Secret Life of Lobsters, you have to pay $10 to get it for yourself. And because there is money on the line, there’s a good chance that the anonymous horde will be consulted for their opinions. There are lots of books I have ended up loving, but I would only begin reading one of them because I could easily borrow it from a friend for free. With ebooks, this is no longer a (legal) option.

Real books with real covers not only encourage people to try new books and for those with similar book-taste to become acquainted, it may also encourage readers to be more scholarly. Few people want to be caught in public reading an harlequin novel, so they take Austen out in public instead. While the argument that “it prevents people from reading what they actually want to read” may not be the best of pro-book arguments, it is a point nevertheless.

I would comment on the mandatory “send your PDF to Amazon and have them convert it for your Kindle,” but with the new Kindle DX that is being released this summer, that is no longer mandatory. So that’s a moot point.

But back to books. When you finish a book, there is a quiet sense of accomplishment. You started on page one. You have now finished all 867 pages. Each time you turned the page, the number of pages in your left hand grew, and the number pages in your right hand shrunk. Not so with a Kindle. When you get to the end, you can’t close the book with a satisfying thud and place it on the bookshelf, or return it to the library ahead of schedule. No, with a Kindle you just… get to the bottom of the document.

Maybe I’m just bitter because I don’t have a Kindle.

But for now, I’m happy with paper.