Tactile or digital?

The "social life of information" is an interesting notion. I read of it in an article by Anthony Grafton entitled Future Reading, published in The New Yorker. He references this idea from John Seeley Brown and Paul Duguid, which suggests that how one uses a text is influenced by the form in which one comes across it. For example, marginal notations in a book of poetry, inscribed by an earlier reader, can influence how we read and respond to the poems. Information can also be gleaned from the physical construction of the text, as to its age, quality, and so on.

If this is accurate, how diminished will our experience and understanding of books and texts be if they are eventually only to be found in digital editions? Grafton lays out an illuminating historical argument for why this is unlikely, discussing the difficulties associated with trying to catalogue the world's texts since the advent of the printing press.

But repeating his argument is not my purpose here (though the article is definitely worth reading). It seems to me that there is a tactile aspect to obtaining information that is complementary to the social life idea espoused by Brown and Duguid. Reading a book is far more enjoyable than reading its text onscreen. This is not only because of the eye strain that results from far too much time in front of the computer screen (or from peering at an iPod). There is pleasure derived from holding a volume and turning its pages.

Like a trumpet blast sounding the advance, the soft crackle that accompanies the opening of an unread hardcover announces the start of a new adventure. Wondering "what happens next?", you eagerly finger the upper corner of the next page like worry beads. And when you see that the next right-hand page ends halfway down, your anxiety is not decreased. The hero will not be out of trouble yet, at least not until the next chapter. So you regretfully put the book down, carefully marking the page (not dog-earing it!), and notice that most of the pages are in front of the bookmark. And the momentary elation that soon all will be resolved is replaced by a tinge of sad recognition - soon the book will be finished.

I can't imagine having this experience while scrolling with a mouse.

Comments

Nancy Barnes said…
Finally!! Someone else understands my love of opening a new book. I like to caress the cover, check the date published, read the dedication, and be the first person to crack the spine. And, of course, I have to spend some time picking out a bookmark that matches the book, either by looks or by author. I can't cuddle with a blanket, a coffee, and a computer; I will always pick a book over a computer document.
I couldn't agree more. The tactile aspect of holding a book is mystical. I swear I can feel the energy of the author's soul finding a path from the words on the page into the spine of the book, then through the front and back covers into my fingers. This is how I come to feel the humanity (or inhumanity) of protagonists and antagonists, and all other characters, major and minor. Holding a computer made warm only by the pedestrian transmission of electricity will always pale in comparison.

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