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Why my kindle is making me stupid(er)
A couple months ago I got a Kindle for my birthday. This should be a cause for glee and rejoicing (and it was), but somehow I've also managed to make it into a metaphysical-type quandary. Perhaps I’m just special that way.
My lovely friend who bought the gift for me knows I: (1) buy a lot of books; (2) complain of having no space in my apartment; (3) recently had a bunch of my books destroyed and (4) am helpless before shiny gadgets. Theoretically, as my friend no doubt thought, I should be a perfect fit for a Kindle. But, in reality, I don't think I'm constitutionally suited to take full advantage of an electronic book reader, and I think it's contributing (through no fault of its own) to a sad turn into bad reading habits.
The problem is that, as I've mentioned a time or two—see, e.g., here—I covet actual, physical books (holding them, turning the pages, and stumbling over one nearly forgotten and reading from the middle when I'm supposed to be doing other things). Nearly every book I’ve read since I started working is currently sitting on my shelves (er, figuratively, anyway, they're not all actually shelved). I do realize that this desire to have an actual physical object, when the point is the text, is somewhat irrational, and perhaps bordering on the pathological, but, despite very good reasons to adopt a new non-physical approach to books (i.e., verging on-hazardous space constraints, the coolness of carrying around a virtual library on your person), I'm not sure I can (want to?) change.
Although I have bought a bunch of trash novels* in Kindle format, I have yet to manage to make myself buy an electronic copy of a book I would actually want to own. I have tried, but even as my finger hovers over the button to buy a substantial-type book, I stop, thinking, 'but I could just buy the actual book for a couple more dollars . . . .' And that is so much more attractive. As for the trash novels, I don't normally buy that many anymore--my reading time is fairly limited and I suppose internet fic has come to fill any void, but as these are the only types of books I seem willing to buy in e-format and I want to play with my new toy, the upshot has been that I've been reading a number of bad novels that I probably wouldn't have bothered with otherwise. This has not exactly been a positive development, and my List of Shame, long with books likely to be interesting and well-written, has been languishing.
So. I suppose a solution would indeed be to buy both the electronic and print versions of books. But as I am also cheap, I resist the idea, except (maybe) for something that's really big and heavy.** Still, I'm afraid I might end up succumbing to this double dipping at some point, which would really, truly be the height of crazy, irrational decadence (I would no doubt be more susceptible if we weren't teetering on the edge of economic collapse, so, er, thank you lack of government regulation and greedy, short-sighted finance industry?). I haven't completely given up and trying to get myself to buy "real" books solely on the Kindle, either. It's a moral/philosophical/facing-up-to reality struggle—materialism v. reconciliation with the transitory nature of all things; risking death by book pile collapse v. everything electronic will break and/or become obsolete at some point; realizing that someday I might have to move v. but then I'll hire movers.
Somehow, though, I'm fairly sure that crass materialism is going to win in the end—at least while I still have some space left in which to cram one more new book—because, as I've always said, the only reason to have a job is to be able to buy books, and if I can't have something made of wood pulp in my hands, it would be like just smelling rather than actually eating the cake. Or something like that. (Although ideally one would want to both smell and eat the cake . . . . This is a lame metaphor and not helping at all.)
Feel free to mock (yes, I know, boo hoo, poor me). Or to ask real questions about the Kindle and it's workings. While it might be currently be contributing to my literary decline (and perhaps later to my poverty), it is really quite nifty.
______________
* Trash novels are what I call books that I read as if they were cheap candy—not good for me, probably cloying, could make me sick, but could lead to a momentary sugar rush. They’re books I zip through (often skipping whole sections), which I may or may not read past the first few pages if the writing is insufferable. These are books largely defined by the fact that I don’t particularly want to keep a copy and often regret having one (but an occasional trash novel does get elevated into non-trashy keeper status). Mostly, my trash novels are adventure-type stories, often fantasy—the types of books I devoured as a kid, which I still think I like to read and that I long for, at least in theory, but which I rarely find I can stand anymore because most are just so god-awful and/or I'm too picky.
** I would, however, totally buy an ebook of something out of print, but that hasn't come up yet--maybe it will as time passes.
My lovely friend who bought the gift for me knows I: (1) buy a lot of books; (2) complain of having no space in my apartment; (3) recently had a bunch of my books destroyed and (4) am helpless before shiny gadgets. Theoretically, as my friend no doubt thought, I should be a perfect fit for a Kindle. But, in reality, I don't think I'm constitutionally suited to take full advantage of an electronic book reader, and I think it's contributing (through no fault of its own) to a sad turn into bad reading habits.
The problem is that, as I've mentioned a time or two—see, e.g., here—I covet actual, physical books (holding them, turning the pages, and stumbling over one nearly forgotten and reading from the middle when I'm supposed to be doing other things). Nearly every book I’ve read since I started working is currently sitting on my shelves (er, figuratively, anyway, they're not all actually shelved). I do realize that this desire to have an actual physical object, when the point is the text, is somewhat irrational, and perhaps bordering on the pathological, but, despite very good reasons to adopt a new non-physical approach to books (i.e., verging on-hazardous space constraints, the coolness of carrying around a virtual library on your person), I'm not sure I can (want to?) change.
Although I have bought a bunch of trash novels* in Kindle format, I have yet to manage to make myself buy an electronic copy of a book I would actually want to own. I have tried, but even as my finger hovers over the button to buy a substantial-type book, I stop, thinking, 'but I could just buy the actual book for a couple more dollars . . . .' And that is so much more attractive. As for the trash novels, I don't normally buy that many anymore--my reading time is fairly limited and I suppose internet fic has come to fill any void, but as these are the only types of books I seem willing to buy in e-format and I want to play with my new toy, the upshot has been that I've been reading a number of bad novels that I probably wouldn't have bothered with otherwise. This has not exactly been a positive development, and my List of Shame, long with books likely to be interesting and well-written, has been languishing.
So. I suppose a solution would indeed be to buy both the electronic and print versions of books. But as I am also cheap, I resist the idea, except (maybe) for something that's really big and heavy.** Still, I'm afraid I might end up succumbing to this double dipping at some point, which would really, truly be the height of crazy, irrational decadence (I would no doubt be more susceptible if we weren't teetering on the edge of economic collapse, so, er, thank you lack of government regulation and greedy, short-sighted finance industry?). I haven't completely given up and trying to get myself to buy "real" books solely on the Kindle, either. It's a moral/philosophical/facing-up-to reality struggle—materialism v. reconciliation with the transitory nature of all things; risking death by book pile collapse v. everything electronic will break and/or become obsolete at some point; realizing that someday I might have to move v. but then I'll hire movers.
Somehow, though, I'm fairly sure that crass materialism is going to win in the end—at least while I still have some space left in which to cram one more new book—because, as I've always said, the only reason to have a job is to be able to buy books, and if I can't have something made of wood pulp in my hands, it would be like just smelling rather than actually eating the cake. Or something like that. (Although ideally one would want to both smell and eat the cake . . . . This is a lame metaphor and not helping at all.)
Feel free to mock (yes, I know, boo hoo, poor me). Or to ask real questions about the Kindle and it's workings. While it might be currently be contributing to my literary decline (and perhaps later to my poverty), it is really quite nifty.
______________
* Trash novels are what I call books that I read as if they were cheap candy—not good for me, probably cloying, could make me sick, but could lead to a momentary sugar rush. They’re books I zip through (often skipping whole sections), which I may or may not read past the first few pages if the writing is insufferable. These are books largely defined by the fact that I don’t particularly want to keep a copy and often regret having one (but an occasional trash novel does get elevated into non-trashy keeper status). Mostly, my trash novels are adventure-type stories, often fantasy—the types of books I devoured as a kid, which I still think I like to read and that I long for, at least in theory, but which I rarely find I can stand anymore because most are just so god-awful and/or I'm too picky.
** I would, however, totally buy an ebook of something out of print, but that hasn't come up yet--maybe it will as time passes.