I’m masticating this Kindle ereader and what issues it brings to light in my personal reading life. It perplexes me.
Ian thinks me ungrateful for this technology gift. Each night we lie in bed, he with his Kindle, me with my book, and I offer reasons.
Oh, this book feels better in my hands.
Oh, this book is free you see. I don’t want to part with money to purchase an e-book for the Kindle. Why buy something so ethereal as an ebook? Something that can be removed at will at whim of amazon?
Oh, you see, I’ve already paid for the library books because our tax dollars pay for public library books. It is a shame not to check them out. It is wasteful not to borrow them.
The Kindle does not feel right in my hands. Clicking on the button to turn a page feels wrong. It’s just ugly.
I’m a sensualist at heart, and reading books is bound up with loving the feel of paper, the undulation of words on the page, the touch of the paper, the turn of the page, and the sound of the turning of the page.
And so, yes. I think that the Kindle is excellent to travel with. Because on vacations-past, before I was a mother, I packed a dozen thick hardcover books into my luggage and LUGGED them into the car and LUGGED them out of the car and LUGGED them into our condo and then I read them, one or two a day, at least because vacations were for reading books in the air-conditioned condo or by the pool-side or by the oceanside, or wherever.
As a book sensualist, one who loves the words on the page, the pages themselves, the books, the spines, the flyleaves and covers; I love books as objects. Books as electronic files hold no lure. Amassing files inside of a Kindle does diddly for me. Thus, the thought of purchasing another ebook holds no allure. I want the physical object. I want to add it to my personal library. I want to revisit its pages whether I read it a second or third time. I may wish to consult it for research purposes.
That brings me to this WRETCHED practice that I encountered in the Kindle ebook that I despise. Public notes. Somehow, if someone makes notes in a copy of a book, then they’re transferred to your copy? I don’t understand how that happens. All I know is that I don’t want that. I don’t buy used books because I don’t like the distraction of having to read underlined passages or marginalia from prior readers/owners. So I don’t expect that a “new” ebook that I purchase should have any notations, either. Thankfully, I’ve learned, that it can be turned off, but I know so little about the operation of my Kindle, that I don’t know how to do that.
Okay, so I blather on about something I don’t understand. Sheesh. Enough of that.
Ostensibly, I craved the Kindle so I could play Scrabble. Is that such a bad thing? And I haven’t played Scrabble on it yet. Terrible to pay almost $200 for a dedicated Scrabble-playing device, but I love the game, and cannot find anyone to play with me and there is no Scrabble app for my Droid.
Seriously. I find more and more reasons to loathe the Kindle and may, in fact, turn mine over to my sister, who, for some reason has a Kindle jones.