Reading Books Without Pages

Last year in my post, Reading vs. Listening, the Debate Begins, I expressed my disinterest in "reading" a book by listening to it on audiotape. While I think it's great that audiobooks exist for people who have difficulty reading due to disability and for habitual multitaskers, especially individuals who find themselves on the road for significant periods of time, I personally can't imagine choosing listening to a book over reading one. If I have the time to engage in a literary work with 100% focus, I'd much rather do it at my own pace, with the book in my hand, and narrated by the voices in my own head.

Amazon recently released the Amazon Kindle 2, the second-generation of its ebook reader, the Kindle, first launched in November of 2007. The Kindle 2 is sleeker than its predecessor with a better battery life, but with the same hefty price tag - $359 for the device and $9.99 per book for most new releases and best sellers.

In the same way I am turned off by audiobooks, I am equally disenchanted by ebook readers. It's just not the same. I've always loved reading, but it's only recently that I realized how big of a bookophile I actually am, when suddenly faced with the opportunity to listen to/read non-books. Judging by my three generous bookshelves and my reluctance to borrow from the library because of a need to own, display, and wistfully peruse my own collection, I really shouldn't be surprised.

Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower, or a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten. Books smell musty and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer is - it has no texture, no context. It's there, and then it's gone. If it's to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible. It should be, um, smelly.

- Rupert Giles

While I might not be as smell-centric as the lovable librarian Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I genuinely love books in their old-fashioned and paper-filled form, from their glossy covers and bindings to their genuine heft and myriad designs.

I wasn't willing to invest in a Kindle for the sake of writing a blog about it, but I did invest in an affordable alternative - the Classics app for the iPhone.

For a very reasonable $2.99, the Classics app gives me access to a growing list of classic novels to read on my iPhone, a list of 18 novels (and novellas) so far, including Pride and Prejudice, Alice in Wonderland, Paradise Lost, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Bram Stoker's Dracula.

Pride and Prejudice is on my 2009 booklist, and as I had already dragged an old copy out of the attic, I figured why not give it a go on the iPhone, and if it's too unpleasant to make it all the way through, then I'll pick up where I left off with the book, patiently waiting for me from the third row of bookshelf #1.

The Classics app is attractively designed, loads quickly, and easily "bookmarks" the last page read whenever exiting the app. I am particularly partial to the virtual bookshelf that loads before the book selection is made, complete with (color!) book covers that can be arranged in any order. Some of the classics, including Alice in Wonderland and A Christmas Carol are illustrated editions, which helps retain much of the originals' charm.

The screen of the iPhone is significantly smaller than the Kindle and other ereaders. With fewer than 100 words per "page" in the Classics edition, the 300 page Pride and Prejudice morphs into a 1500+ page ebook. The app features "realistic 3-D page flips", but I found the page-turning animation to be too distracting and was glad to be able to turn the feature off.

With my initial struggle to get used to the ebook format and the many extra "page" flips, I had some difficulty following the dialogue in the first few chapters of Pride and Prejudice, although part of the blame can be laid on Austen, who didn't feel it was necessary to always identify the speaker, even in conversations involving more than two people. Although I have no problem curling up with a book for hours at a time, I found it hard to focus on the iPhone screen for extended periods, unable to concentrate for longer than 40 minute subway rides.

I am happy to say that I did make it all the way through Pride and Prejudice and with only $2.99 + tax invested in this experience, I definitely feel like I got my money's worth. I'm thinking about trying out Paradise Lost next, with the hope of getting my hands on a hardback illustrated edition in the near future.

Assuming ereaders, like all new technology, will eventually drop in price as demand goes up and production costs go down, I could see myself investing in a fourth or fifth generation Kindle. I'd be particularly interested in having magazines and newspapers in a portable, digital format, rather than constantly having to recycle back issues, when it's be easier to spare the trees in the first place. I could also see myself using an ereader while commuting or while on vacation, without having to lug around as many physical books.

I just can't imagine ever replacing my bookshelves and the hundreds of books with their dog-eared pages and shelf-worn spines. As portable as bookshelves might be in the future, it'll never be the same.

Reading vs. Listening, The Debate Begins

I've often engaged in the age-old debate over the merits of literary adaptation. Which is better, the book or the movie? (akin to the equally inconclusive, which came first: the chicken or the egg?).

I most often side with the book as it is the book that inspires the movie to both recreate and reimagine a story that is (hopefully) worthy of being retold. An excellent book may become an excellent movie, but ultimately it is the film that must be selective when condensing the material, sacrificing character development and plot lines to trim the source material to a more manageable form. It is perhaps the television medium that is most suited for long form adaptation, although this medium has its own limitations, mainly in episodic structure and budget and time constraints.

Regardless of your opinion on the book vs. movie debate, here's a debate that you might not have heard before: reading vs. listening.

Shortly after seeing the adaptation of the first book in Philip Pullman's controversial His Dark Materials series, The Golden Compass (2007), I was chatting with a friend who was halfway through listening to the second book, The Subtle Knife, on his media player. He was expressing an interest in seeing the film but was concerned at the possibility of being disappointed with an adaptation that wasn't up to par with the books he was reading. It was here that another rather irate friend joined in on the conversation. She hadn't read the books or seen the movie, but she was very angry with our friend's use of the word reading when referring to a book on tape.

"You didn't read the book," she insisted, "you listened to it. It's not the same thing."

Although I hadn't thought about distinguishing reading a book from listening to that same book on tape, the differences in the experience of the text are indisputable. Even when the book on tape is unabridged and read word for word by a single narrator, the way you engage the material is fundamentally altered.

While reading, you are absorbed in the words and multitasking becomes virtually impossible. You see the words with your eyes, you engage with the layout of the text, consciously or subconsciously acknowledging the paragraph breaks, the emphasis on certain words. You can pace yourself, reading quickly or slowly, skimming ahead or back-tracking to re-read particularly eloquent or difficult passages.

Not only do you not have the freedom to determine the pacing while listening to a book, back-tracking or skimming ahead is more difficult to time accurately. You can't just flip back a page, you have to rewind to the precise moment or you're forced to re-listen to passages you didn't want to hear again. The choices made by narrators or voice actors cast in the roles of the characters limits the reader who may have heard them speak differently in her head. Most significantly, many people who choose to listen to books do so because they don't have the time to read. They listen as they drive, they listen as they do laundry or cook dinner, they listen as they are distracted from engaging exclusively in the text.

I've never listened to a book before, I enjoy the act of reading too much to find any reason to listen instead. Although I will acknowledge one benefit of listening. While reading has made me an excellent speller, I often find myself committing a faux pas when I mispronounce a name or a word newly added to my ever-expanding vocabulary. If only I had listened to the words instead.