The Kindle - (my late review)

I was recently given a Kindle. 

You probably know what a Kindle is, but just in case... Made by Amazon, the Kindle is an electronic device that stores books. It is small, lightweight, very thin and easy to handle.

The beauty of the Kindle is it's function. In a world that seems to be getting bigger, this is an answer to a previously un-acknowledged problem: Books take up lots of space.

It seems fitting with our advancement in technology that we would embrace something like this. The fascinating thing about new inventions and gadgets isn't necessarily the fact that they are problem-solvers, but more the fact that they create a new-found need. They somehow shine a light on a problem that we didn't know we had or maybe they create the problem for us. 

In rating the kindle, I'd score it high. It does what it does well. 

If you search through other reviews, you'll hear kudos about it's e-ink screen. (It really does look great, even shockingly good.) You'll also read about it's ability to download books quickly - which makes sense if you have any background knowledge in the weight of data. (Words don't weigh much in the digital world, except the ones found on the sites of inconsistent bloggers, of course).

So I like it... but I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the fact that this is a sort of gateway drug into the future of the literary world. 

I'd like to say that books will always be around. I really really hope they are. But I think we've seen the entry into a very practical solution to what future generations will see as a given.

The artistry that accompanies books in their tangible form will be diminished if we lose interest in their weight in our hands. I think there is a sort of kinship that develops between a man and his book. You've received and pondered deep truths or even tensions from the pages that you held. If we enter into a world of digital-only text we lose something in the form of a conversation. 

This blog is a good example. I can write things here and people may or may not read them, but if I have any heavy subject to share it only translates as well as my words are arranged. And reading heavy subject matter just doesn't have the same intensity on a screen. 

I've got a friend who says every good reader does so with a pen in his hand. A book is best read when it's words are sloppily circled. When it's stained with coffee. When it's dog-eared pages are wrinkled and weak. Just like the transparency that comes with shared facial expressions during the translation of a sad story over coffee. It's also found in the laughter that ensues from the re-telling of a shared moment between two friends of the past. 

I like technology. I like the internet. It will always be a huge part of my work and pleasure. It's accessibility is nearly immeasurable. And (like the Kindle) it's becoming more commonplace among our day to day lives. That's okay. But in the same vein as Facebook, let's not get so consumed with the time-friendly nature of technology or writing on someone's wall that we miss the beauty in the lost art of letter writing. Let's not miss the feeling of slightly raised ink on a page for the speed of the cutting edge. 

So, for me... of course I'll continue to use my Kindle, but my office will always smell of old paper and my little girls bedroom will always have a bookshelf. Because as shiny and perfect as new gadgets are (and as much as I love them) there's nothing like the real thing.