My name is Claire and I like books made of paper.
It is becoming increasingly unfashionable to admit this, a little like saying I prefer…well, what is it like?
- LPs to CDs?
- Telephone boxes to mobile phones?
- Horse drawn carriages to modern day cars?
No, none of these analogies fit because books are not being antiquated by technology. There are elements of improvement and technological advance – digital books have huge potential for interactivity, portability, etc. But there are also elements of paper books that are not improved by rendering them electronic.
I was reminded of this on my recent visit to Tilton House. It was such a joy to find books all over the house, like a treasure hunt. You could find them, of course, in the library – novels, autobiographies, some I have read, many I have not. All of them waiting to entice you in a spare moment and have you browse their pages.
In the sitting room and the conservatory there were coffee table books – biographies, textbooks, and some rather strange and unusual tomes.
I even found inspiration in the books found in the bathroom – if you’re a writer and have never seen a copy of the Collins Guide to Roses by Bertram Park then check it out. You’ll never be stuck for a character name again.
I was lucky enough to visit the neighbouring Charleston, home to the Bloomsbury set. There J.M. Keynes (as a regular visitor) had been awarded his own bedroom. As someone who has spent a lot of time studying Keynes, the opportunity for me to nose around his bookshelves was the chance to peer into the mind of the man, not just the economist. On his shelves was Punch – lots of Punch, the Encyclopaedia Britannica, the manifesto of the communist party and many other books that allowed my imagination to fly. Thank goodness Keynes didn’t have a Kindle.
I do have a Kindle. It’s very practical for travelling, and for buying books that I suspect I will only read once. But I do still buy paper books. I love the covers, I love the tactile nature of the pages that transform the book under the weight of your fingertips.
Last week I spend an hour browsing in a bookshop to buy two children’s books. It would have taken me ten minutes on Amazon, but the whole process is so much less fun.
Perhaps the best analogy I can come up with is the love letter. It’s very nice to recieve a romantic email or a cute text message. It costs nothing to send, it’s fast and no trees are killed. But there is something about receiving those words hand written on paper: something physical, something sensual, something that can be held to the heart today, and left for those who follow to find.