WOYP: An editorial on reading on portable machines

As I developed the following article, I became unsure who my intended audience is. I want to avoid preaching to the converted, yet they must be the main audience for Writing on Your Palm. I offer this small piece in the hope that I can recruit more readers of electronic editions. Before we continue, I ask that readers assume for the moment that books represent a vibrant and stable part of the American pleasure diet, allowing us to focus only upon advantages and prejudices of books.

There is no use preaching to the converted; I rank among the converted those lovers of books who can forget, within reason, the mode of literary enjoyment. This includes those who borrow from a library, who hunt down copies on the internet, and those who prefer printing whatever electronic edition they find or bought before reading. The question I ask the remainder is, is there any reason why one should give up his prejudice against electronic editions of books?

I have heard Harold Bloom lament the transfer of texts from pulp to binary code. His chief complaint is that the book itself is an important part of the experience, if not an indispensable one. It so happens that I prefer solid, paper books. If I had the money, I would pay to convert all the books in the my library into leather bound, vellum-leaves editions. Nothing would give me more joy than to treat these books which have entertained and provoked me with the respect they have earned. The carpenter must keep his tools in good repair and in order so that he can apply his craft consummately; by analogy, should we not keep the tools of thought in a state of readiness? Since my budget is small, I most times must choose the paperback instead of the hardcover; often, I forgo buying books and borrow them from the library. All this applies to the canon that Bloom promotes and defends. The books that I do buy, the ones I honor with ownership of the paper editions, are members of that distinguished canon Bloom holds so dear. But I wonder what Bloom would say to us serfs who do not have access to the lord's library at Yale University, to those of us who must read an Arden edition of Shakespeare and not from the playwright's Folio. If, however, he and his ilk see nothing improper by reading mass produced books, then I do not see where he can draw such a sharp line between paper and electronic books.

I say then that Bloom has never been so mistaken as when he dismisses reading electronic editions of literature. The main advantage of reading with a portable machine is the act of micro-reading, that is, reading in 5-10 bursts. In a world where qualia invade the ears, eyes, and nose without regard. It must give authors hope when one would prefer his vision filled by Moll Flanders and not billboards that treat women like whores. The short bursts advantage is really a specious one; once started, the mind attends to what is at hand and so the reading asserts itself, lengthening the actual reading time. I have done the same with paper and electronic books; I do so enjoy finding an empty bench in parks scattered within Boston so that I can read. What the portable device offers the reader is the reader's library, and a lightweight means of carrying it.

So another advantage of electronic editions of books appears to us: they take up no physical space. Among the books I store on my pocket computer are Churchill's history of the Second World War (all six volumes) and Gibbon's Decline and Fall. The information archivist within me enjoys having the command of a computer's search function in addition to having the books themselves on hand for whatever purpose that suits. In such works, references are easily embedded in the text as hypertext links, creating a smooth transition from text to scholarship. The weakling in me enjoys not having five pounds of books strapped to his back at all times. I suppose that bringing a single book is akin to bringing a digital assistant; I can only add the point that the digital assitant can fit in the pocket, while the shape of books become a factor.

As I get older, I cannot imagine I will lose my reading habit; I do foresee a time when my vision fails. One could purchase a second set of large-print books or a magnifying glass. All book display programs available on computers, portable or immobile, allows the reader to set the font type and the size.

I feel free to conclude that those who frown upon anyone reading anything other than a book have a small measure of elitism running in their blood. Elitism is founded upon drawing distinctions where none exist so that borders divide those who stand on either side. These arguments usually have the air of refinement, since they involve details that connoisseurs tend to notice. Rather can binding these sharp observances to the substance of the work, the focus diverts to the form. exclusively. Their argument elevates that of the aesthetic quality of the book form while ignoring the ideas within. It is true that pages have texture, that the paper gives a pleasing aroma, and the act of caressing the words and turning the pages create a sensuous immediacy the digital forms cannot match. How and why these qualities of the book should interfere or replace the actual recitation of the work remains unsaid.

The outrage I feel comes not when someone holds such a view that paper is better than electrons, but when this passive preference transforms to an active sneering and scoffing, that they extend to themselves the delusion they must also be of higher mental caliber than those who read on their digital assitants. They must value literature much more than those who stare at monitors. It happens that my bookshelves inspire two types of comments: that I'm damned snob or an impressive intellectual. I do not wish to impreass visitor of my home; that is not the reason why those particular books stand on the shelves. The number of books I have can be counted, while those my heart desires is innumerable; the sliver that I own, I must vet. Mostly, books that inspire multiple visits find their way onto my shelves - hence the classics (of Bloom's western Canon), histories, and scientific works.. All else reside on my digital assistant, or I borrow from the library. Space is the overriding concern, followed by cost. I prefer books for the simple reason that I get a tactile pleasure from browsing that electronic interfaces fail to provide.

If I have convinced those readers who have thus far avoided e-books to try them, then my hope would have been exceeded. But I should also identify some caveats, so that the convert does not feel ill-used should they find the reading experience on a screen lacking Screen sizes are what they are; one can read on a computer monitor as well as a portable device screen. Images that are included with e-books, especially non-fiction works, suffer greatly. Image sizes are less than 240 pixels in width, which fits on most small screens. However, no higher resolution images are provided so that users can magnify details. What does happen is that the low resolution images pixelate, guaranteeing only dissatisfaction.

Publishers need to consider providing higher resolution images, even if they do not fit onto the small screens of portable electronics. Most software readers allow for diferent levels of magnification; another recourse is to read the e-book on a desktop or laptop computer. These options ought to be considered. If nothing else, the publisher should think of giving equal value to a product that costs the same as the more tangible paper book. Depending on the machine, there could be restrictions on the fonts one can use; rendering a pretty, smooth font could take some managing on portable devices. One could always spend more on a device with more pixel density, but these machines cost more.

Unfortunately, the publishers so far do see paper and electronic editions as competitors; they force readers to choose between them. And so we arrive at the point in the essay where I say both e-books and paper works can coexist. Ideally, one should dispense the electronic edition with the paper editions, but that remains but a dream. Book selection remains relatively small; the back catalogs of the publishers are not readily available. Faced with goods without the same production values, I imagine frustrated readers turn to a paper book instead. There is also a large priming cost; portable digital assistants can cost over two hundred dollars. I do wish that readers who haven't begin to read electronic editions. In the end, I would not ask of anyone to become an early adopter; however, that remains the only means one has of convincing, through the one-dollar, one-vote system, that there is a market for electronic editions of books.