The Paper Principle

I view a lot of my world through a travel lens. I am prone to packing up and being gone for a while and I learned long ago that if I pack it I have to be able to carry it. That often means I only take a few books because books are heavy. With only a few books in tow, it isn’t unusual for me to be finished reading them by the time I land or shortly thereafter. That sucks. But physical books allow me to trade or barter with them. That rocks.

I don’t really do resolutions. I often make lists, but in my brain they are different from resolutions. My lists usually excite me. My first stint in Africa I had a to-do list that included things like seeing the big five and going to China. They were things I wanted to do not things I thought I should do. It is a small detail but that detail makes me eager to complete my list rather than feeling guilty if I don’t. 

This year I didn’t make a proper list but I decided I wanted to write and read more. “More” in terms of writing is still a little vague but I was specific in my reading: two books a month. 

It wasn’t unthinkable. My first week in my village when I was in the Peace Corps I read both Dr. Zhivago and Anna Karenina. I had a lot of time on my hands as I adjusted to my new home where I knew no-one and my job was on holiday until the New Year. Read so closely in proximity, those books are inextricably linked in my brain, depressing novels with snow where someone dies tragically. 

It didn’t stop there; I read Long Walk to Freedom, and the Power of One. I read Ishmael and the Alchemist. The list goes on. In Liberia I read the Gospel According to Biff (<3) Fountainhead and anything I could get my hands on. Anything. 

At various phases of my life I read like an addict because I love books. I love stories that unfold in unusual ways and learning about history through fiction or learning about humanity (or the lack of it) through non-fiction. I adore the written word. But somehow, in my adult years, comfortably situated with easy access to both libraries and bookstores, I read less.

Enter my 2014 to-do list. Two books a month. At least. And I’ve been so joyful in rediscovering books.

I’ll try anything, fiction or non-fiction, acclaimed or seemingly interesting.

Most recently I’ve finished the Fault in our Stars, Dwarf, and the Idealist. Now I’m in the midst of Mountains Beyond Mountains, Devil in the Grove, and Little Brother. I’m beyond the two books a month mark because I love to read. So it is easy. 

Rediscovering my utter adoration for the written word, I’ve been part of a lingering debate about books vs. eBooks. I am somewhat baffled by the often passionate debate because to me the paper or the kindle is simply a conduit. They are like bread while the unfolding stories are butter – I mostly eat one to make it easier to consume the other. Or maybe the better explanation is that they are both tools to the same end.

Meanwhile, I currently have 80+ books on my kindle. That rocks. But I have to be mindful if I’m reading near water. That sucks. Kindles have to be charged but handling 500 pages of Dune is cumbersome in paperback (let alone hardcover). There are always tradeoffs.

I love my kindle. It was one of the best gifts I’ve ever received and I use the hell out of it; but I don’t hate physical books. I still have a bookshelf with favorites I haven’t let go of.

Recently, a friend was urging me to buy paper books instead of eBooks to keep local bookstores solvent.

“They are community institutions. They employ people. You buying online is killing them.”

I think she expected a different reaction from me.

“Businesses have to innovate or they die.”

She shook her head but I was, I am, adamant. It isn’t that I believe that capitalism is the great equalizer or that businesses can do no wrong, but I do believe that innovation moves the world forward and trying to hold on to old paradigms – even for good and noble reasons – is short sighted. The typewriter didn’t win over the computer, the telegraph didn’t win over the telephone, and the stagecoach lost to the car. 

I say that even as I love to walk through bookstores and trail my finger over the titles, periodically picking up a book and thumbing through it to see if anything catches my attention between the covers. I say this even as I want small businesses, especially ones that build community, to succeed. I also say this as someone who loves the immediacy of downloading a book from the library onto my kindle and having it disappear on its own accord when the lending period has ended. 

Nostalgia won’t make the eBook go away.

 

The one other argument I hear about paper books over eBooks is censorship and control – very real concerns given governments and zealots’ continued attempts to control what people think and do. Books can be revolutionary, art can arm the masses with information or hope or a glimpse of the past that sheds light on a possible future. Books are powerful.

“E books are easy to alter,” someone told me, “there is no physical point of reference for the change. And it is true. When people decided Huck Finn was too offensive with its use of the historically appropriate use of the N word, and it was published with that adjustment, there were copies to compare it to. There was tangible evidence to contrast one against the other. Who hasn’t changed a document on a computer and lost the original content? I understand the fear that books will become those word documents, irrevocably changed. 

Still, when I think of the potential subversive nature of writing I also understand how important it is to get that message out. In the past people had to print copies (expensive) and distribute them physically. There are only so many places a person can go, there are only so many copies someone can print.  Meanwhile, Cory Doctorow (author of Little Brother) physically publishes his books and makes them available for (free) download.  What is more subversive than reaching the masses with your message – for free?

In all the ways that cyberspace can be manipulated, so too, can physical books. How many people have read the actual text of the bible without various translators’ interpretations of it? Whatever the vessel of dissemination corruption is possible. 

But the answer isn’t simply to cling to what we know, to what is familiar, even when other things emerge that compete or complement it. Neither is it to throw aside things that are familiar simply because there is a new novelty. Things have their places and their pragmatic uses and we use them according to need. Sometimes I need a power drill but sometimes a screwdriver will do. No argument necessary.