Book end?

Subtle little changes to humanity in the guise of advancement give me the fear.
Mostly they slip by, unnoticed until one day, bam, Wagon Wheels shrink, sailor suits are no guarantee of sexual orientation, and no one uses cash anymore.

This week my brain cells were rudely ignited by a positively encouraging review of a games console being used as a reader.
A reader is a hand held, computer like reading vessel, which has been described as ‘the future of book reading.’

Distain began with the name - ‘reader’.
It is not the reader.
I am the reader. You are the reader.
This is a machine.
Whatever its price tag and current geeky status, It is a poor, yet shiny replacement for a historical marvel.

Though I wouldn’t part with money to find out, I do wonder how far from civilization you have to be to have the time to read all of the 160 books it stores and the abilities of the batteries to last that long.

In one advertisement a hand is seen wispily caressing book jackets by authors obviously choosen for intellect & current cool status.
Luckily my love of the real deal blocked out the ‘up with the Jones’s’ selling technique, and ultimately I was disappointed by the wispy hand’s choice.

I initially thought my concerns were an age based, technology fearing, change denying hot flush of a tantrum, but the 45 messages in each of my three email addresses from my social networking and blog accounts said otherwise.

I toyed with the possibility that I was having a rose tinted nostalgia moment, but this is nothing like the pang of loss I felt on discovering Windy Miller had been burnt and discarded by his unfeeling, eBay unaware, bully boy maker.

The connotations this machine carries for writers are distressing.
I want someone to buy my book, not my cartridge.
I want them to get crumbs stuck in chapter seven and a smear of butter from their toast on page 249. How am I meant to sign a monitor screen?
I want to be published, not downloaded.
How can I be taken seriously if, whilst you read, every spelling error is rudely underlined?
Technology is ruining my career before it’s even begun.

My only hope is that the works available on readers are limited to ghost written biographies and those splashy pink covered beach type reading things.

People don’t throw away real books; they keep them, cherish them, past them on, and buy them again if they are lost.
We love books.
Can we really expect the next generation, to feel the same about a piece of plastic?
Reading is such an intimate affair. You snuggle up or cozy down with a good book. You like the way it feels in your hand, the way it smells, and the way it looks.
It is a deep rooted emotionally positive relationship.
I doubt the same level of intimacy can be gained from cold plastic, even with a faux leather lube.

They say this future reading vessel provides enough light to read by without disturbing your other half, but isn’t that disturbance part of the affair?
The gentle REM inhibiting glow of a bedside lamp reminds your other half that they lose you every night to someone else’s thoughts and dreams. Keep them on their toes!
Maybe you’re in an open book relationship, both lamps fully on, a polygamous marriage of paper lovers.
Good luck to you. You’re in your prime. Why cheapen the experience?

So many fragments of our lives are already played out on the cyber arena; do we really need to add to it?
Our children are completely at one with this type of communication, yet find it hard to speak face to face.
Our knowledge is Google enhanced whilst libraries sit dusty and forgotten by a new generation.
Whilst we strive (quite rightly) for a paper free working environment books, at least, must be spared.

Societies dumbing down of language has already lulled the senses, heightened the need for more and more sensationalist stimulation.
Too often today we are forced to nurture our children on the media breast.
This consistent portrayal of airbrushed glamour onto the lifestyles of dysfunctional and dissatisfied ‘z-lebrities’ is damaging humanity.

Children discover so much of themselves through the words and pictures found in books. The feel and smell of those first pages offers excitement and freedom.
To read alone, in silence is a right of passage. The magic of a good book never leaves you.

What have we left to pass on to our children if we replace books with monitor screens? We have already lost so many of the stories of our past because no one wrote them down and no one listened to the myth tellers.
Now we lose ourselves in a world of CGG and smooth plastic.

Our intuition has been blown apart by advertising clichés, all human emotion played out in 30 seconds to sell a car that willfully aids our destruction.
We have become fat of body and lean of mind.
A constant lack of time and space leaves us, all of us old and young, struggling to keep up with an unattainable lifestyle, removed from our sex, our bodies and our authentic self.
Technology appears more and more to be the mothers ruin for the new generation.

I don’t want to live in a Burroughs inspired age where my ‘reader’ wont let me load Demon Seed or 2001 because its detrimental to its grandparents.
I don’t want a double cartridge full of deleted chapters that weren’t good enough to make the final cut, or an interview with the author, or up coming titles by authors I may like but properly wont.
I just want to keep reading books, made of paper, sustainable, obviously.
I want my children, all children to know the magic of books too.
I get the point.
But if it ain’t broke…

Bonnie Fairbrass 25/03/09