Books are becoming obsolete. Publishers are croaking. Newspapers are going belly-up.
Paper’s going away. Boo. Hoo. Hoo.
Really, who’ll miss it? Before anybody here falls into a hyper-literate bibliophilic frenzy, let me assure you that I say this as a devotee of the written word: Hell is where there’s nothing to read.
As a child, I’d read my dad’s college texts at the breakfast table, not because I was smart or curious, but because they were what happened to be near the Wheaties. In fourth-grade, I read books about the lives of all the presidents’ wives in the school library. Once, stuck out in a trailer in the desert with nothing else, I read every word in a 4-year-old New Yorker, including the agate-type entertainment listings in the front. Etc.
I should also clarify that I’d be upset if I weren’t confident that the production and dissemination of highly organized language will be an even bigger business in the future than it is now. At present, things are a bit in disarray due to rapid technological change, but the economics will get fixed. So I’m certain that the Niagara of words that I like pouring through my head will still be available. Language, I need. But paper? Not so much.
Paper was, of course, a seminal invention. I recently learned that the technique for making it was carried from China to the West, along with other revolutionary ideas and technologies, by Genghis Khan and his descendants. In fact, their period is known as the Late Middle Ages, because the innovations—and disease vector—they brought with them kick-started the Renaissance. (You want to talk about rapid, disorienting change coming at you like a screaming warrior on horseback? Check out the 13th and 14th centuries.)
I found this out, by the way, from one of the best books I’ve listened to in a long time: Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World, by Jack Weatherford. Highly recommended.
No paper was involved in my enjoyment of the astounding history of the Mongol horde, nor in my perusal of the scores of other books I’ve gulped down via iPod since my friend Maura Grogan turned me on to Audible.com. That’s not to mention the hundreds of free podcasts that have helped keep my left brain happy while I walk the dog or clean the house or drift off to sleep.
I still like printed stuff fine, and for many purposes, it’s handy. But it also perpetually threatens to overrun my house. And, excuse me? Schlepping books to Bookmans is annoying, because they never want all of them, so then the orphans have to be schlepped to the Friends of the Pima County Public Library Book Barn on Country Club Road, where I abandon them against the wall, because, really? I’m supposed to figure out which four hours a day they’re open?
On a more adult note, I simply can’t see it as a bad thing that we’ll be chopping down fewer trees to supply the disposable surface for Twilight novels, and classifieds, and Target ads. And is it ultimately sad that we’ll be using less diesel to haul paper around? Or that fewer paperbacks printed in China will be hauled literally halfway around the world to market? No. It’s tough on a lot of people in the short-term, but in the long run, it’s a good thing.
As for the shakedown in the publishing industry—oh, well. It occurs to me that for decades, academic presses have been ripping off college libraries, and textbook publishers have been colluding to steal from college students and their families. A kid goes off to school, and the first thing that happens to him is that he’s trapped into paying insane prices. For what? For books. Extorting a grand—or more—per year from every poor kid and his parents for textbooks is simply not the way to make friends for your industry or fans of your product. We reap what we sow, people.
So. I treasure a few books my grandparents and parents owned, because they belonged to them. And powerful memories reside in the books of my childhood and in those that my son loved. But it is memory and association that makes them beloved objects, not the fact that they’re books. The essence of books is not their physical form; it’s the words that live within them.
Paper isn’t over, but it’s fading. That’s OK.
This article appears in Aug 19-25, 2010.
The fade of paper books is not as dominating as I thought, when my wife gave a Kindle to me for my birthday a year ago. Usually I have four books started. I still do, one on Kindle and three in paper.
Discretionary dollars devoted to new books ARE limited to Kindle downloads due to lower prices. Paper books are limited to those from my local library or from used book stores, unless I pick up a new field guide for wild mushroom identification or some other nature topic that I can’t find used and want right away.
The BIG problem with Kindle ebooks is I cannot trade them in at Bookman’s or give them to a friend, and they’re only black & white. When ebooks go full color, like on iPad, and can be traded and gifted, then paper publishers will see an accelerated erosion of their business.
Great column, Downing! It truly is OK for paper books to fade into history, like camera film and typewriters already have.
I’m an unabashed bookophile. My friends know that the best gift to give me is a bookstore gift card or credit slip at Bookmans. Indeed, I was very bummed that B-mans closed their rare book room (Grant store) a number of years ago. There was just something so special about walking into that room as that unique scent of old books wafted across my nose- like the smell of knowledge.
I can certainly see the attraction using a Kindle for many reasons and also thought it to be ideal for textbook usage which can be easily updated. But I guess deep down I’m an “old school” kinda guy. (Ricardo, I still use film but do have a digital!)
Besides, I’d hate to see the demise of the bookshelf and bookmark industries.
Wow i didnt know Bookmans had an old books room. I do remember that the community room had shelves with old books. I actually bought one. I do know that they do have a case behind the info booth that has old and rare books though for awhile now and all the other bookmans has the same. Maybe people were stealing them?
I myself like reading ebooks and pdf files. I just dont like that some of the books downloaded to my itouch(I have the Nook and Kindle apps) cant be saved to my hd on my computer somewhere.
I think we should have paper books though for the reasons you people already mentioned andbcause nothing beats holding a book in your hand especially something that you know isnt in print or on the internet or in ebooks, pdf etc. Am i the only one that feels that way?
The rare books room was in the very south-west corner of the building (kids’ area now?). It was locked and one had to get a staff person to unlock it and stay there while you browsed. It had great ambiance and I’m sure I made a few boat payments for Bob from that room!
I know there was some pilfering as I had my eye on a particular book. I was waiting for Bookman’s annual rare books sale to snag it. Came in one day to see it gone and was told it was stolen. But I think it was a business decision to utilize that space better. That’s when the books from that room were moved to the cases up front. I sure do miss it.
I’m not cheap, there was a time I paid for books. But circumstances being what they are, these days I am just this side of poor. Imagine the day comes when an author I wish to read has a book published that is available download only. If I and all the destitute masses could actually afford a Kindle like device, would we be able drop by the library to download this book for a couple of weeks? I think not.
90% of energy in the US is generated by coal. Coal companies blow off mountaintops in eastern Kentucky, and blow up flat land in western Kentucky. Many trees are killed in the process. What do you think powers your laptop? Where do you think the batteries which run your laptop that die every few months are buried? Have you thought about going to the library? It’s a wonderful invention. There, books can be obtained after your neighbor has read them. It is a remarkable system. You go in, get a card, and you can be lent a book. It does not have to be reprinted.
The original version of this column indicated that the Friends of the Pima County Public Library Book Barn is open four hours a week. This has been corrected to four hours a day. The hours are:
Monday-Wednesday 8 a.m.-noon
Thursday 8 a.m.-noon and 6-9 p.m.