Recently, I received a Kindle. There are very practical advantages to it. First, it’s light and small, so I can keep it on my lap when I’m in bed. Second, you can turn the pages by sliding your finger. That saves me from holding the book (trying not to lose the page I’m in) and turning pages with the same hand. Third, you can enlarge the font simply by sliding your thumb and finger on the screen. For a presbyopic woman with an injured brain stem who needs to keep her glasses to read because they are patched, an enlarged font is a plus. Finally, it has a light that’s not harmful to your eyes.
So, I had to give up my love for books (for the touch of their old, worn pages; their smell of paper; and their sepia color) and embrace the practicality of the Kindle for someone like me. So far, the pleasure of reading and researching has won. My library keeps getting emptier, and my Kindle fuller: novels, poetry, essays, philosophy, history. Whenever I feel like reading or need to consult a book, I take out my Kindle and patched glasses, and slide my finger.
So, I had to give up my love for books (for the touch of their old, worn pages; their smell of paper; and their sepia color) and embrace the practicality of the Kindle for someone like me. So far, the pleasure of reading and researching has won. My library keeps getting emptier, and my Kindle fuller: novels, poetry, essays, philosophy, history. Whenever I feel like reading or need to consult a book, I take out my Kindle and patched glasses, and slide my finger.