11 March 2012

Week 8: Class Reflection

Apparently I love book clubs! Especially because two of the stories assigned to my group, "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" and "Murder and Suicide, Respectively," were two I was really hoping to be able to discuss. And two I have "real" book copies of, which was an interesting facet of my experience, especially since we started out discussing the comic that Laura and I submitted, "All the Books in the World... Except One," which deals with books as physical artifacts--not just paper copies in general, but specific copies owned by specific people--and the emotions they can hold (especially the nostalgia they evoke). My copy of Salinger's Nine Stories is ancient and battered--I've had it since mid-high school, and the permanent bookmark stuck in it is a receipt from a café on Unter den Linden in Berlin, where I ate lunch during a trip in 2004. I'd be seriously sad if I lost that copy.

On the other hand, Terence mentioned the experience of going back to a story he loved as a child--and finding that, within his adult context, it was actually rather offensive. In this case, it wasn't the physical book but the experience of innocently reading a story without looking at its broader implications that was the cause of nostalgia. We discussed the impact of reading this comic about physical books as a web page (it doesn't exist as a physical book outside of Croatia, as far as we can tell)--and more or less agreed that it didn't change our emotional responses to the story.

I came away from that thinking about my attachment to certain physical books versus the ephemeral experience of reading something for the first time, or on a web page that you don't have any control over (though I did download a copy of the story, since I loved it and would hate to lose track of it because the site goes down). My conclusion is that a book and a story are two different things--an idea I've had before, for sure, but never in quite so concrete a way. Reading a Salinger story on my Kindle doesn't take away from the beauty of it, and I can still smile at books on my shelves that I'll probably never open again, just because I remember where they came from and how much I enjoyed them in the past.

3 comments:

  1. Your reflection reminds me a bit of a vibe I'm starting to hear when people talk about eBooks and print books. More and more, I'm hearing that folks like eBooks for "throwaway" or "guilty pleasure" reading (and there is some industry data that supports this). But if they REALLY like a book, they buy it in print, even if they have already bought/licensed it as an eBook. The death of print is, well, premature?

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  2. I have a bit of that attitude, but in general I use my Kindle for convenience... it's not much fun to carrying around my computer, notebooks, and various other school materials AND a big heavy hardback (since I mostly get my books from the library rather than buying them) when I can just toss my little Kindle into the bag.

    If I really love a book I'll buy a copy of it... whether I read it first on my Kindle or via a library copy. I also try really, really hard not to pay for what I read on my Kindle. Most of what I've used it for is schoolwork, stuff I can borrow digitally from Amazon/libraries, classics that are free on Amazon, and the mess of sci fi and fantasy novel pdfs of questionable origin that have been sitting on my computer since undergrad. I must admit, though, that's more for economic reasons than anything else, and is very related to my mentality regarding music: "I can get free music from my friends but if I really love an artist I'll support them by buying their record and/or going to a show, because that's all I can really afford right now."

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  3. Esti, I'm on the same page with you regarding free music and ebooks--that's mostly where I stop as well. I don't even have a Kindle or the likes yet, but I would use it exactly the same way. Like you, I pay for music or a book if it is amazingly meaningful to me and I want to support the author/artist.

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