I don’t have an e-reader. And I don’t want one.
I’ve never held an e-reader in my hands, and I don’t plan to change that. My life’s already dominated by devices that need to be charged, updated and put away. With books you have the cover, the paper, the scent. None of which is downloadable. That’s why I’m sticking to good old analogue when it comes to reading.
Books are dead, long live books! When the Kindle and Tolino came out, people were quick to say they would be major competition for physical books. These days, I get the impression that e-readers are relatively few and far between.
To me, nothing quite beats holding a book in your hands. The feel, the cover art and the format all contribute to the magic. Recently, I caught a whiff of a new book I got from an established bookshop in Paris. The slightly musty scent instantly transported me right back to that shop. If you were to hand me an e-reader, it would feel like sucking the green out of the trees, the blue out of the sky and the red out of the sunset and replacing it with a black-and-white image – drab, dreary and anaemic. No thanks.
The joy of reading starts with the cover
A book cover has an undeniable allure. Plus, books come in all shapes, types and sizes – vive la différence! But I do have a favourite when it comes to format. One that makes my heart sing. E-book fans would probably be driven to despair by it. At 23 centimetres height and 15 centimetres width, it’s a large format. Some might even say unwieldy. But it floats my boat. And then there’s the opposite: formats that spark no joy for me. Sadly, The Nightingale, one of my favourites, comes in this silly size. At about 17 centimetres height and 11 centimetres width, it’s about the size of an e-reader. So, ironically, I read one of my favourite stories in the format I dislike most. Proof that a good story wins out in the end, regardless of the format.
Paperbacks are my favourite, and hardcover books a minority at my place. I counted 120 (!) paperbacks on my bookshelf where I keep them together with just ten hardcovers. Don’t get me wrong, I love the ten just as much as their paperback siblings. Besides, there are exceptions where I generally prefer hardcovers. For example, when I’m eager to read a book right away. Otherwise I’d have to wait a whole year for the paperback to come out and that’s just crazy. The second exception? If the book has coloured page edges. I recently managed to get my hands on Rebecca F. Kuang’s latest book, Taipei Story. I found it in Paris and it has a beautifully colourful page edges.
Moving on from individual books, I believe that there’s strength in numbers. That’s why I love my bookshelf. Currently, I’m using an industrial style black one with a rotating mechanism. It fits perfectly in the corner of my bedroom, where I can browse through the titles every now and then and find inspiration for my articles. The best thing about it? It can hold an impressive number of books. In my last flat, I had floating bookshelves, which were great. They looked fantastic, but the books would occasionally come toppling down like Jenga blocks if I put more than 30 on them. Not a pleasant experience when it happens in the middle of the night. But I digress. Let’s get back to physical books.
My absolute dream is to have a whole wall of books, preferably in dark green or dark blue. I’m happy to discuss talk ladders and lights, as I’m still undecided. Can you fill a wall full of shelving with e-readers? Didn’t think so.
Source: Pinterest/Modern Home Decor Ideas
Practicality: not always a killer argument
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a technology luddite. And I do realise that e-ink doesn’t flicker like the monitor I work on. But still, it’s a device that needs charging. I also see the advantages of e-readers. Take the larger font when your eyes aren’t what they used to be. Or the space-saving size if you live in a small apartment. Then there are the lower prices if you’re strapped for cash. They’re all practical reasons to go for an e-reader. But reading isn’t a practical pastime, in my opinion.
People are also always telling me about how convenient and lightweight e-readers are. Frankly, I couldn’t give a toss about weight. When I fly abroad for my holidays, it’s not like I only have carry-on luggage, but also a checked bag. That’s where I stash my seven to ten books to read on my beach break. I’m also happy to do without a few items of clothing to free up space. For the sake of the books, I’ll gladly make that sacrifice. Even when I’m travelling by tram, train or bus, there’s always room for a physical book. Again, convenience doesn’t come into it for me.
The only time I briefly flirted with the idea of giving in to an electronic book? While moving flats. Lugging five Ikea bags full of books up flour floors? Trust me, I would’ve killed for an e-reader. But only for a fleeting moment. Now they’re on my bookshelf and looking great, the struggle’s forgotten.
Sharing is caring
Admittedly, I rarely read books twice. But they still enjoy a long life, because I’m happy to lend them out. Sometimes they never make it back or take their time. But I’m OK with that. A book that’s passed on is doing exactly what it’s meant to do: being read. Sometimes they come back dog-eared, tattered or well thumbed. And I’m fine with that. When it shows that a book’s been around, I’m happy it’s been read and, ideally, loved. That’s how I can pass on the magic of books to my loved ones. And that’s the beauty of it. Reading brings people together. Here on the internet, in book clubs or among friends – sharing is caring.
I have devices aplenty. I don’t want another one. Getting an e-reader? Not in my book.
Book lover and loud laugher. I've always got a novel in my bag – and yes, it's always a physical one. From Taylor Jenkins Reid to Kristin Hannah, from biographies to sci-fi and fantasy: if you're looking to dive into the world of books, I've got you covered.
This is a subjective opinion of the editorial team. It doesn't necessarily reflect the position of the company.
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