Technology has brought us many wonders that have enlivened our lives, making tiresome chores somewhat less time-consuming and laborious. The advancement of being able to harbor an entire library in the palm of your hand is arguably the most impressive in recent years, most notably e-book readers.
Some broadsheet newspapers are entirely cumbersome to read, they often require planning permission from the council in order to turn each page. Many an hour sat on a Sunday afternoon I have spent trying in vain to find a posture which is comfortable, folding the paper in half only to knock over a lamp-shade as an article at the top of the page grabs my attention. And yet this entire newspaper will fit onto an e-reader with more room to spare than if the Sydney Devine fan club were housed in a telephone box.
'Ah, but does it smell like a book?' you may enquire.
This is an extremely common point of view held by many avid readers, it seems that many people have fallen in love with the feel, and especially smell of well-worn pages. The simple action of turning a page seems to be one of the most enjoyable aspects of immersing yourself in a novel. I do not share this view, as when I digitally read a book I do not have the unpleasant experiences of perhaps finding a piece of used chewing gum amongst the 'butler' paragraph in an Agatha Christie novel, as I may well do after a visit to the local library. I also do not have unintentional cliffhangers when the last few pages have been torn out and replaced with a phallic drawing and a phone number.
I fear that the person who drew the penis and listed their phone number may have been drawn to this particular title by the 'smell', or perhaps even the 'feel' of the pages. Or it may simply have been that the book was called 'black holes : an oral history'. I may be incorrect, and that Agatha Christie achieved writers block and decided the final chapter should be a literal 'who done it'.
I do understand though the longing for a dust jacket and a physical front cover, a common phrase is that you should never judge a book by it's cover. This is a rule which I rarely follow, as a novel may have received immense reviews, a great deal of publicity and have been written by a writer at the peak of their career, but if the front cover shows a vase of sunflowers beside a window, count me out. Likewise if a novel has plot holes that an M1 tank performing donuts could drive through yet has a cover featuring a smoking gun and an explosion, then I will give it more chances than a scratched vinyl recording of 'take a chance on me' by the Swedish sensations Abba.
E-book readers do indeed have a front cover for each book, but they wouldn't look out of place on a greasy-spoon laminated restaurant menu, especially if your chosen book is a cook-book. Turning the pages of an e-book reader feels a little like pressing the buttons on an elevator, yes it is impressive and it duly obeys your instruction, but also gives an uneasy robotic soulless feeling to proceedings.
All in all, I am converted to these ingenious machines, but I do not envision a day where book stores will not exist. In the great war of 2089, a truce may be called.
Some broadsheet newspapers are entirely cumbersome to read, they often require planning permission from the council in order to turn each page. Many an hour sat on a Sunday afternoon I have spent trying in vain to find a posture which is comfortable, folding the paper in half only to knock over a lamp-shade as an article at the top of the page grabs my attention. And yet this entire newspaper will fit onto an e-reader with more room to spare than if the Sydney Devine fan club were housed in a telephone box.
'Ah, but does it smell like a book?' you may enquire.
This is an extremely common point of view held by many avid readers, it seems that many people have fallen in love with the feel, and especially smell of well-worn pages. The simple action of turning a page seems to be one of the most enjoyable aspects of immersing yourself in a novel. I do not share this view, as when I digitally read a book I do not have the unpleasant experiences of perhaps finding a piece of used chewing gum amongst the 'butler' paragraph in an Agatha Christie novel, as I may well do after a visit to the local library. I also do not have unintentional cliffhangers when the last few pages have been torn out and replaced with a phallic drawing and a phone number.
I fear that the person who drew the penis and listed their phone number may have been drawn to this particular title by the 'smell', or perhaps even the 'feel' of the pages. Or it may simply have been that the book was called 'black holes : an oral history'. I may be incorrect, and that Agatha Christie achieved writers block and decided the final chapter should be a literal 'who done it'.
I do understand though the longing for a dust jacket and a physical front cover, a common phrase is that you should never judge a book by it's cover. This is a rule which I rarely follow, as a novel may have received immense reviews, a great deal of publicity and have been written by a writer at the peak of their career, but if the front cover shows a vase of sunflowers beside a window, count me out. Likewise if a novel has plot holes that an M1 tank performing donuts could drive through yet has a cover featuring a smoking gun and an explosion, then I will give it more chances than a scratched vinyl recording of 'take a chance on me' by the Swedish sensations Abba.
E-book readers do indeed have a front cover for each book, but they wouldn't look out of place on a greasy-spoon laminated restaurant menu, especially if your chosen book is a cook-book. Turning the pages of an e-book reader feels a little like pressing the buttons on an elevator, yes it is impressive and it duly obeys your instruction, but also gives an uneasy robotic soulless feeling to proceedings.
All in all, I am converted to these ingenious machines, but I do not envision a day where book stores will not exist. In the great war of 2089, a truce may be called.
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