So, apparently, Oprah loves the Amazon Kindle. So does my boss. Good on them. However …
The Kindle reduces a book into mere words. Gone is the aesthetic of holding it in your hands and savoring the anticipation. Gone is looking at it in your bookshelf and thinking ‘hmm … yea … I remember that one ….”
Or flicking through it and thinking “I was in Bora Bora” or “Butt f ville” for that matter when I read this.
The thing is: there is so much more to a book than it’s mere words. There is the touch of it’s cover. The grains of sand that keep it stuck open from that book vacation. The wine stain from your friend who always borrows books and reads them pissed. The joy of knowing that you left your bookmark in page 216, with only 42 pages to go (you’ll finish someday).
Can the Kindle do this?
I think not.