6 Things You Can’t Do with an E-Book
I liked this post on Matador about things you can’t do with an e-book (that you can, of course, do with a real book). Five of the ones she mentions are:
1. Make a mini secret safe and hide it on your bookshelf. You know, to hide your, um, decoder ring. Or whatever. Even your (yes, really) iPod. This trick, of hollowing out a book’s pages and sticking it back on your bookshelf is a surprisingly complicated maneuver, requiring precision, patience, and a really sharp X-acto knife. And it absolutely requires a real, paper book.
2. Show off your wildly erudite and obscure reading taste on the subway. I will admit to craning my neck on more than one occasion to see if someone’s reading something I should have read, or would like to read. A kinship in geekery, similar literature tastes, sympathy for people you don’t know, all of it gone with an ebook. With an ebook, the words going into your brain are private, you read completely alone.
3. Press flowers and autumn leaves. When I was a kid, we’d pick up a couple of the first pinkish-yellow autumn leaves and press them between waxed paper in the biggest book we had, a Random House dictionary, with a wheat cover and black finger tabs, XY and Z all together on one. If we forgot about the leaves, there they’d be, the next time you went to look up a word, colophon, for example, which is the insignia at the beginning of the book, which you also won’t see on your ebook.
4. Throw it across the room when you’re pissed off at the ending. It’s a great feeling to know that you could smash your book down onto the floor, the literary equivalent of slamming the phone down, or pushing your cell phone talk button extra hard. Just as the person you’re hanging up on can’t tell how irritated you are, the author has no idea how much you hated their ending. But you wouldn’t try it with an ebook. Unless it’s got some fancy super extra protective case I’ve never heard of, in which case, it would just bounce, unsatisfyingly.
5. You can’t warm up your room with the colorful spines of books you’ve read. Or will read. Or want to hand to guests just because you know they’ll love them. This is perhaps the worst loss of all to me, the not being able to see just how pretty books are, not being able to share in the sense of moving something from your hand into someone else’s, not synching in some virtual, click-a-box way.
And that’s true. But there’s so much more, too. You can’t go into someone’s home and peruse their shelves, which is one of the most fun parts of getting to know someone. You can’t leave an e-reader on your beachtowel while you go into the water, either – between theft and sand, it’d be a no-no. You can’t take an e-reader in the bath safely. You can’t inscribe an e-book to a friend or family member, with something loving written inside it.
For me, I know that if I go on a trip longer than a couple of weeks, I will likely purchase and love and be grateful for a small device that I can stuff full of stories. But I will always be a lover of, reader of, buyer of, celebrator of real books.