Old Books

Luddites wreck textile machines in this drawing from 1812. (Public Domain)

I admit that I'm a bit of a Luddite.  I have little interest in owning a smart-phone.  I prefer to do crosswords on paper (yes, I still do crossword puzzles).  I prefer to read books on paper.  For a brief while I flirted with e-books.  Living overseas, it doesn't do to collect more paper than you can fit in two suitcases (who needs to pack clothing?) and books in English are much more expensive than those in the native tongue, but it didn't last.  I had to leave a fair few behind me in Prague when I left.  That was hard.  I don't get attached to many things, but books (I'll include comic books as well) have always held a certain place in my heart.
    When I was a child, I had a very good friend named Matt (we are still friends, though life has taken us in different directions).  He and I shared many enthusiasms, especially involving books.  The one thing about him that always broke my heart was that his passion was for the story alone and not for the object that contained it.  When he returned a book to me, invariably the spine was broken and the pages dog-eared.  I assume that it was his method of devouring the work, getting into every nook and cranny of the page. Conversely, when I finish reading a new book, I could probably return it to the shop for a full refund (you can work out what it means psychologically, that's not what I go in for).  Matt has always been an early adopter of technology and you'd think that he'd be big on reading electronically.  The funny thing is, when I sent him the first draft of my novel, he had to get it bound to read it (and the copy he mailed to me was a beautiful gesture).  I like to think that that means something.
    Shopping in used bookstores is a favored pastime of mine.  Part of this stems from me not being able to afford to pay full price for all of the books that I want to consume.  Part of this stems from me enjoying the process of combing through shelf after shelf of titles, uncovering lost (at least to me) gems from another age.  I love seeing some of the old artwork on SciFi and Fantasy titles.  I also like combing through the "Literature" portion of bookshops, finding old hard-backed copies of classic works in odd sizes.  I like browned paper with ragged edges.  I like how it falls open in your hand without having to break the spine. Sometimes you find notes from the previous owner identifying particularly moving passages or perhaps simply the date of purchase.  Sometimes you find an older version of a story you already know, or an unedited version, it's like listening to an old Springsteen bootleg, when he was still working out the lyrics to new songs live on stage.
    I have nothing against e-books, or the people that love them.  Having moved a number of times in the US, I understand what a pain in the ass it is to cart around a small library.  I just know how easy it is for me to lose track of things on a computer.  If I bought all of my books for kindle, or some such, how easy would it be to forget that they lay there, unloved (because unread is unloved to a book).  I don't browse my computer's memory in search of inspiration, and I hate going back a few pages in an e-book to confirm something I think I know that has just happened in a story.  I need my books to stare at me longingly and accusingly from a pile.  I need them to remind me of the larger world.
    Part of the joy in bookstores (like record shops) is the joy in discovering something you didn't know you were looking for.  With all of the algorithms written to help you find what you might like based upon your personal past enjoyment, it's easy to miss the wonderful.  It's too easy to pigeonhole ourselves with such able customer service as the internet provides.  The electronic world is an amazing thing that makes much of our modern world possible (as it makes it possible for me to bother you faithful few with this).  Online publishing has created a marketplace for an incredible number of new voices.  I will not speak against it.  However, for me, the glowing screen is often a cold unfriendly place, which is rather averse to the outdoors, needs constant updates, and requires recharging.  It does not sit well in my armchair and can be expensive to fall asleep while holding.  Where is the fun in that?