Literary techno-phobia

Can technology take on literature?

Now I admit - I may have overstated my love of the bygone ages a little. Whilst I truly would love to settle down with my pot of ink and parchment, quill in hand, ready to create a little literary magic, I do realise the limitations of this ideal. Picture the scene: 1am on the morning of your 9.15 essay deadline, and you’re frantically scribbling away to the light of one waning candle. That’s going to give anyone dark circles under the eyes and a grumpy disposition come morning. Perhaps the eighteenth century dream is not all that practical, however desirable.

Perhaps I also overstated my status as a techno-phobe. After all, where would I be without my iPod? My laptop? MSN? My USB storage gadget has saved my life (and my essay) on numerous occasions when my computer has decided to spitefully turn itself off. I am, in fact, like so many of us, a shameless techno-consumerist and I have to admit to the fact that a new mobile phone may or may not feature at the top of my Christmas wish list. I'll confess – the thought of facing a walk into town without a few tunes courtesy of Imogen Heap on my MP3 player is not a happy one. And frankly, without my mobile phone, I don’t know how I would have got through my first term at university. Tears, tantrums, and pleas to “let me come home!” – my phone has heard them all. Where would I be without it?

Despite having revealed my somewhat embarrassing dependence on technology, I certainly can't hide my hesitance towards the newest of gadgets on the market in time for Christmas - the Amazon Kindle. The newest of electronic book readers, the Kindle stores up to 200 e-books in the palm of your hand. For a literature lover like myself, surely this is the ultimate accessory? Instead of having a room full of bookshelves and musty old books taking up space that could so much better be filled with clothes, our wonderful heritage of literature can be compacted onto a smart hand-held device. No need for that hefty paperback version of War and Peace on your next train journey – shell out a mere few hundred dollars (plus around a tenner for each novel) and you’re good to go.

Yet somehow the idea of sitting in a room with a cosy fire roaring in the corner and walls lined with books is an image which appeals greatly. Indeed, this has been something I have aspired to since my first foray into Jane Eyre as a child. I don’t want my precious books to be replaced with a cold, unfeeling gadget. I don’t feel I would be pushing the boat out to say that books can be wonderful companions – there is something wholly comforting and satisfying about settling down with a steaming mug of tea, chocolate biscuits, and a favourite, well-thumbed novel. The smell of the paper and printing ink, the simple pleasure of checking your page-progress on the spine of the book, and of course, the aesthetic appeal of a book’s cover (no one should be ashamed to admit that we judge a book by its cover) would all be lost if we are to turn our backs heartlessly on the novel.

Admittedly, the Kindle is just one of many electronic book readers on the market, none of which have caused irreparable damage to the traditional paper and ink novel. Yet. I for one am all for making literature more accessible – I just wouldn’t agree that feeding into the consumerist desire to possess a somewhat pointless and expensive gadget is the way to do this. We have libraries, we have book groups, we have friends, most of whom would be happy to nudge a book in your direction. We don’t need to resort to scrolling up and down a small handheld screen to read a novel, poem or play.

I resent the idea that books should be resigned to the world of electrons and dependent on battery life, as opposed to being enjoyed as they were intended to be. Reading a book is not just an activity, it is an experience – and one which will be sadly lost if we live in a world of anonymous individual reading. Books are to be shared and discussed with friends, passed around and returned to you satisfyingly well-thumbed and enjoyed. In the ever-increasing world of consumerist techno-domination, literature lovers everywhere must stand up in protest, and protect our most delicate species: the novel.

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