Books Vs Nooks? Some thoughts by Book Club Member April..

I have always carried a book with me, wherever I go. It’s one of those great love affairs, timeless as Cathy and Heathcliff or Romeo and Juliet.  I can count back the years like playing cards through turning the pages of books I have loved. Their covers, softened, have the patina of much loved photographs .They are tangible and real to me, as old friends or pets, curated in their stacks and shelves as lovingly as a museum collection.

 I pick up a book and recall, vividly, where it came from. Where I first read it. How it made me feel, or how the experience of reading it changed me, either very subtly like the infinitesimal graduations of waves on a summers day – or as a flash fire sweeps across prairies and grasslands, scorching and altering all beyond belief, bringing forth an entirely new world.

To those of us absurdly in love with the talismanic properties of books – glorifying them beyond paper bindings and oblong shapes –  an e-reader is tantamount to blasphemy. There’s been so much written and painstakingly, tiresomely argued about the benefits and disadvantages of both. Those of us clinging onto our dog-eared, yellowed paperbacks are being consigned to the past – like the class ranking on the Titanic’s lifeboats, or Luddites smashing up machines. Books cost us trees.  They create dust. They are bulky. E-books are stored in perpetuity, thanks to Cloud computing. One device can fit hundreds of worlds within it, like some marvellous magical artefact science fiction dreamt up. Possibilities for readers and writers grow.  But their environmental impact is far more severe, using a larger amount of natural resources, and with the ever increasing cycle of replacing quickly out-moded technology with new models, we could be left with perpetual elephant graveyards of twisted metal and plastic; each possessing the corpse eye stare of a blank screen and a fortunate case of amnesia. Paper can be recycled and reused, theoretically at any rate. And books are portable magic (thanks, Stephen King!) that can be passed around, shared between people, crossing boundaries and barricades and spanning time.

So it’s probably safe to say I had some reservations about trialling a Nook e-reader for this month’s book club choice. Especially as my first hurdle was getting it out of the slickly corseted box. It is the little black dress of e-readers; classic lines and colours, discreet but serenely self-satisfied. It could be taken anywhere and not disgrace you or itself. Its curved lines are like the enigmatic smile of the Mona Lisa, alluring yet frustrating. This was somewhat prophetic.

Because there’s something very pleasing about this e-reader.  It’s very quick and simple to use, and it’s rather because it makes the whole ritual of the dedicated reader beguilingly easy. Rather than physically perusing a shelf, there they all are – your choices laid in front of you like buttons in the Great Glass Elevator. The font, the turning of pages, and the detailed cover – it’s still the book you know and love, but better. It’s like the Hollywood transformation makeover you get at the end of films like Grease but without Olivia Newton John and John Travolta singing and wearing an impractical amount of leather.

What really seduced me were the extra features that allow you to easily annotate the text. Bookmarks were child’s play – no more coasters, nail files or random leaflets! Highlighting was a little tricky to get the knack of – but you could choose the colours. And the notes – the Nook is the perfect size to hold and type your thoughts into a handy note that you can recall when needed. You don’t have to deface the book with earnest Biro, or jot down ramblings on pages of foolscap that inevitably will be lost for ten months then accidentally recycled.

But then. Just like the Mona Lisa, or a Hollywood movie, the spell inevitably ends. The lights go up, the queue moves past, and with the Nook – the battery runs out. Usually just at some fairly important point in the plot. And you think, frustratedly – this wouldn’t have happened with a book. Mine also froze on certain pages and wouldn’t turn to the next, which again ruined the illusion. Because the chief appeal of a story is losing yourself within it. That’s the alchemical magic, the trick every writer aspires to, the wardrobe leading to Narnia and the road leading to Rivendell. The major disadvantage of using an e-reader is that at any time this spell will be broken – by the lack of power, by some technological glitch, by the incessant level of care you need with a tablet or similar device. You can’t just shove it in your handbag. It needs accessories. It’s high maintenance.

And so, seventy three pages into this month’s book, I pressed the little silver power button, and the screen gave me one last, sultry wink. Our brief affair had definitely fizzled out. I picked up a perfectly serviceable copy from the charity shop- corners crinkled with laughter lines from its enigmatic past – and began to read. Call me a true romantic, but I love a happy ending.