Being a lover of books myself, and of old bookstores, with their characteristic smell and hallowed niches, I was a little disappointed not to find a more spirited defence of the traditional, printed book (in this article on the BBC Magazine http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/8447996.stm ). There is much in favour of the Kindles and iSlates of this world, not least that they might even be environmentally friendlier, and to counter their obvious ease of access and mobility with "Ah well, but you can't scribble on the columns" is not very convincing, even to us members of the choir. Especially, as books might well have associated web-pages, where readers can discuss every line with every other reader, even those who don't live down the road.
Here, then, are some reasons I would like to advance to support the paper book.
Printed books, once printed, can't be changed. No publisher can easily (and perhaps without any member of the general public noticing it) change content, delete politically annoying or no-longer-in-fashion opinions. A printed book becomes a carrier of the Zeitgeist. This is especially fascinating when one thinks of world-views before certain continents were discovered, of discourses on freedom before the female-emancipation movement or of common tales of city life, before a certain communist party had been discredited. Of course, this means that romances which have Laura bestow her affections on a different member of the lower nobility every time one reads "Our Austrian Cousins" are not possible, as far as a paper book is concerned. I can live with that.
Electronic books often offer a lot of meta-information. Consider a reader coming across the word "ploy", not previously known to her. What does our young reader do? She clicks on the dictionary function, and learns more about the word, and its synonyms, with example sentences. This is not necessarily a great idea for a couple of reasons. Firstly, one doesn't always need to understand every single word to be able to enjoy and learn from a work. The context provides a general hint, and the reader's imagination is tasked to do the rest. (Blasphemous as this idea sounds, Nietzsche concurs). Secondly, the dictionary entry might have a fascinating etymology, or a pretty verse in the example sentence, leading our reader to learn more about the poet, or about the language the word-stem derives from. Exhilirating as this journey is, it can be construed to be a distraction from the book. Thirdly, imagine books which come with an option "Simplify text", where all uncommon words are replaced by more familiar substitutes, leaving the "spirit" of the work untouched. Not just Nabokov, but the author too, might scream "Vive le pédant". Or, alternately, if the reader gets put off by a long paragraph, there might be an option which provides a summary of the whole book, or just of annoying chapters. I can conceive of an algorithm which can "visualize" parts of books. Young readers find it easier to see images. Novels can be converted into comic books at the tap of an icon. I don't claim that this service exists, but I do anticipate it. And when it does become available, it will easily be defended by its providers as providing more freedom of choice, and freedom is good, I read in a book.
The term "collaborator" is a dangerous one not just under totalitarian regimes. Imagine readers being asked to rate "sneak previews" of forthcoming chapters or books. Imagine also this being targeted at readers who buy (download) more books than others, or books that belong to a particular genre. The author can then tailor his books and the development of his plots to suit his audiences. This will lead to increased sales. And to the death of intellectual diversity.
So, some of the apparent disadvantages of a paper book, with no direct connection to the Internet, are indeed some of its greatest strengths.
I end on a sentimental note, hopefully one not taken as maudlin. A paper book is a unique object. When received as a present, from a parent, perhaps, or bought just before a memorable journey, or picked up during a walk in the winter sun with one's beloved, it acquires a value external to its published content. Critics might suggest that this is true also of a stuffed sheep. Yes, except that it is awkward to scribble on a sheep. Ah well, it appears that I have come back to the "can't scribble on the columns" argument, outlined in the opening paragraph. The other arguments stand.
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