Remember the old-fashioned book made of paper? The one whose cover protects its white pages inside, peppered with tightly-packed print? I’m happy for readers and writers to commune with each other in any way they choose, but still, a real book in the hand might be worth two on any other device … for relaxation, comfort and a good night’s sleep.
It’s reassuring to behold a real book being read by a real person. Such sightings do exist. The paperback may even be making a comeback (no pun). When I spot somebody presenting with this ‘tableau’, I’m curious to know what captures their attention. If I recognise the title or the author, I feel to be in the presence of a kindred spirit. Reading publicly can be performative of course, but most reading is done by people simply wanting to enjoy themselves and be inspired.
On a visit to an international resort some years ago – in the days when the internet was still young – I observed the younger tourists lounging around the hotel pool. While the women read on their electronic devices, the men were absorbed in their paperbacks. Had they been tethered to work screens for so long that they needed a break? They cradled the book as if absorbed in a deep chat with a familiar, longstanding friend. Already by 2008 they were maybe tired of automation.
Author, Fran Lebowitz, pouring over a Mark Twain handwritten manuscript at The Morgan Library in NYC, claims that the closest thing to a human being is a book. I take her to mean that through the act of reading we discover the inner life of another person and that of ourselves. The gift of a story that’s written by a human being is under threat right now from a superficial, if clever, form of intelligence. But as with the idiosyncrasies involved in reading, there’s no substitute for the thoughts of a living, breathing writer to help us explore what it means to be us.
Paper or electronic, visual or audio, how ever the book is delivered, by reading we partake in a form of friendship, the generous offering of one human being to another. From Homer’s oral story-telling to Virginia Woolf’s more contemporary streams of consciousness, it seems to be working so far. And long may it live.
“The closest thing to a human being is a book. (I know people think it’s a dog, but they’re wrong.) When you look at manuscripts or letters and they’re written in the hand of the writer, you are closer to that writer, you’re closer to the person.” Writer and humorist, Fran Lebowitz, 2024
WRITINGS AND MUSINGS OF MARGARET MCCAFFREY 
All so true Margaret. For me it has to be a paper book every time. Perhaps because it engages at least four of the senses, sight, sound (the rustle of the pages), touch (the feel of the paper) and smell. Nothing can replace the anticipation of opening the front cover and reading that first sentence.
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For my daughter, it’s also been the smell of the paper, since she was a child even. Thanks for commenting and reading!
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it’s Helen Margaret. Don’t know why I’ve become anonymous! I thought I was signed in?
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Helen, I’ll get the ‘IT guy’ on to it!! (Ha ha.)
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🧑🏻💻
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Yes, I’m not sure I will ever switch to digital by choice. Sticking a bookmark in a book and visually tracking my reading progress at the end of a night is a satisfaction I would miss terribly.
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Thanks for commenting. Really, I think every mode is good, just as long as we’re reading. But I ‘hear’ you.
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It does appear that my husband and I have reversed the trend you spotted at that resort. Although there’s an entire library on his device that I could wander into, I will always choose the library I grew up going to. Your words bring comfort as does holding a book.
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Thanks Deborah. Great to learn your thoughts. May the libraries thrive.
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