Considering that printed material is taking a hard rap in recent times, I thought I would take a moment to defend these lovely “creatures”, these purveyors of words, of stories and memories. Everyday brings a new online magazine, a new web or blog where it its possible to discover new information updated practically to the second. This is all very good and nice, but where is the magic?
The current attention span has dwindled to mere seconds, clicking away to achieve an information or visual high that lasts until the next page pops up on screen. Not to mention devices that are becoming part and parcel of daily life, such as Kindles, E-books and others. What necessity do I have to carry a technological gadget that can store 5.000 books? When would I even need 5.000 novels? When going on holiday, one of the biggest pleasures is to pick out a gorgeous, promising book, which is usually started on the airplane and then relegated to the suitcase as there is so much to see and do once I have arrived at my destination. The delicious part is knowing that when I get back, I’ll be able to continue with that book.
My small attic flat is overrun with books and I like that fact very much. One can never have enough books, just like clothes, shoes and bags. A book asks for attention, cries out “slow down, spend some time with me and relax”. Some of my earliest memories revolve around stories, first read to me by my parents and then voraciously by myself when that great moment arrived where I was able to sound out each word. Reading a book fills my soul, the words fill my mouth like the most luscious piece of cake.
Books accompany us in many areas of our life. The lines and paragraphs snatched while travelling on the subway. Sumptuous cook books, filled with mouth-watering photos, begging to be splashed by mistake with ingredients during the process of whipping up tasty morsels. Poems read aloud at night to loved ones in bed. Thrillers and terror stories that musn’t be read after the sun goes down or one is in for a sleepless night.
Not to forget, the perfect smells that emanate from different types of books. The library book smell, the new book, the borrowed book, the second-hand book. The smell of bookshops. Who can resist sticking their nose into a brand-new book and taking a deep, heady breath? But books are not the only printed elements that seem to have a threatened future. Magazines are struggling to compete against the new technologies but there is no competition for me. There is nothing like receiving a new magazine in the mail, perusing the glossy pages, reading the new edition from cover to cover. My ever-growing stacks of Vogues, never to be thrown away, will someday probably need an extra room all to themselves.
It seems that it is becoming harder to remember and focus on the simple pleasures in life. The easy complicity of spending a Sunday morning with the newspaper, crumbs falling on the paper, the rustle of the pages turning, the black prints on your fingertips. I’m firmly standing by my printed friends and hoping that I won’t ever have to see them disappear.




































