"we note our place with bookmarkers that measure what we've lost..."
Shouldn't this be my dream come true: the ability to carry 16GB of books on my phone? To have not just a book but a whole library at my fingertips? To be able to pull out a book anywhere I have my phone? To not have to lug around a book everywhere I go and wait? To not have to buy purses based on whether they hold my current read or not (and yes, I have taken purses from the accessories section at Target back to the electronics and media section to test-fit various sizes of books before I bought one purse over the other)? To have a whole compliment of classics at my disposal -- for free?
One would think.
I downloaded two eReader apps for my new iPhone -- the Amazon Kindle for iPhone and the Barnes and Noble eReader -- and so far have six books between the two of them: The House of Mirth, The Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant, Little Women, Dracula, Pride and Prejudice and a pocket dictionary. The latter four were included with the B&N reader and were frankly one of the impetuses for downloading both readers. Grant seemed useful and requisitely geeky.
And then we have The House of Mirth. As I mentioned on Facebook, Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don't Float recapped Edith Wharton in such a way that I wondered why in the world I'd never read anything by her, save for excerpts from The Decoration of Houses for my material culture class. Something about Lily Bart grabbed my imagination and held until I caved and downloaded her to my iPhone for free.
And all of the things I said above about the perks of the reader are absolutely true. It's convenient and easy to hold and I don't have to look for a bookmark or remember my page number. But three short chapters in to the book and I'm remembering all the little things I love about books -- making margin notes with a stubby pencil, flicking back through the pages when a character is reintroduced to remember why I recognize the name, knowing my progress just by the heft of what's held in my right hand versus what's held in my left. Flicking my finger across the screen every couple paragraphs to turn the page doesn't feel like reading a book. The width of a column on-screen is about like the width of a newspaper column, so I feel more like I'm reading a lengthy article.
I read quickly regardless, but I feel like I read more quickly and less deeply when I'm reading something on a screen. Whether it's my computer screen or a screen I'm holding in my hand, it doesn't matter. What I read on screens always feels more fleeting, less important, than something that has been printed and I hold in my hand. So reading classic literature on my iPhone doesn't really feel like I'm reading classic literature. Sure, it says Edith Wharton wrote it, but the medium tells my brain it could just as well be fanfic.
So I'm struggling a little bit, especially as digital everything seems to be the way of the world. I fear for the future of 2-D movies, especially after the success of Avatar and now Alice in Wonderland. 3-D movies are not made for near-sighted people like myself, and as a result Avatar made me motion sick. I don't look forward to a world where I have to choose between going to the movies and keeping my lunch down. Similarly, I fear for the future of books, and my feeling that my failing eyes work harder to read on the iPhone than a regular book is, in the end, much more important than my silly hangups and nostalgia about books.
But in the meantime, I am really enjoying The House of Mirth. So much so, in fact, that I may be persuaded to buy the actual book someday.
One would think.
I downloaded two eReader apps for my new iPhone -- the Amazon Kindle for iPhone and the Barnes and Noble eReader -- and so far have six books between the two of them: The House of Mirth, The Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant, Little Women, Dracula, Pride and Prejudice and a pocket dictionary. The latter four were included with the B&N reader and were frankly one of the impetuses for downloading both readers. Grant seemed useful and requisitely geeky.
And then we have The House of Mirth. As I mentioned on Facebook, Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don't Float recapped Edith Wharton in such a way that I wondered why in the world I'd never read anything by her, save for excerpts from The Decoration of Houses for my material culture class. Something about Lily Bart grabbed my imagination and held until I caved and downloaded her to my iPhone for free.
And all of the things I said above about the perks of the reader are absolutely true. It's convenient and easy to hold and I don't have to look for a bookmark or remember my page number. But three short chapters in to the book and I'm remembering all the little things I love about books -- making margin notes with a stubby pencil, flicking back through the pages when a character is reintroduced to remember why I recognize the name, knowing my progress just by the heft of what's held in my right hand versus what's held in my left. Flicking my finger across the screen every couple paragraphs to turn the page doesn't feel like reading a book. The width of a column on-screen is about like the width of a newspaper column, so I feel more like I'm reading a lengthy article.
I read quickly regardless, but I feel like I read more quickly and less deeply when I'm reading something on a screen. Whether it's my computer screen or a screen I'm holding in my hand, it doesn't matter. What I read on screens always feels more fleeting, less important, than something that has been printed and I hold in my hand. So reading classic literature on my iPhone doesn't really feel like I'm reading classic literature. Sure, it says Edith Wharton wrote it, but the medium tells my brain it could just as well be fanfic.
So I'm struggling a little bit, especially as digital everything seems to be the way of the world. I fear for the future of 2-D movies, especially after the success of Avatar and now Alice in Wonderland. 3-D movies are not made for near-sighted people like myself, and as a result Avatar made me motion sick. I don't look forward to a world where I have to choose between going to the movies and keeping my lunch down. Similarly, I fear for the future of books, and my feeling that my failing eyes work harder to read on the iPhone than a regular book is, in the end, much more important than my silly hangups and nostalgia about books.
But in the meantime, I am really enjoying The House of Mirth. So much so, in fact, that I may be persuaded to buy the actual book someday.