One of the first columns I ever wrote for my college paper was about the iPod. I was convinced they were killing the thing that I loved most. Kids weren’t buying albums anymore, picking and choosing the songs they wanted. How distasteful. An album was supposed to be an event, something you cut school for. Downloading a record from this newfangled thing called iTunes just wasn’t the same. I had a minidisc player, which was the unwieldy future!
Two years after that column was published, I got an iPod for my birthday. I was completely wrong. My iPod is practically an appendage, and I could not imagine my life without it. Instead of making me apathetic towards music, it’s deepened my addiction. I was stubborn for no good reason.
In 2007, Amazon announced that they were releasing the Kindle. The Kindle could hold hundreds of books at once and was the size of an ordinary paperback. The digital revolution had gone too far this time. Music was one thing, but books? The idea of reading Fitzgerald, Shakespeare, Ibsen, and Hemmingway on a screen seemed tawdry. “Digital” and “literature” were two words that didn’t compute. I was not going to fall for this one.
Reading has always been one of my favorite pastimes. I wouldn’t have become a writer without it. However, the physical act of reading had gotten harder for me. As I got older, the books got thicker. I found that I could only read comfortably if I could balance the book on a table.
In February of 2009, Amazon launched the Kindle 2. The new Kindle was thinner and more lightweight then the earlier model, about the width of a pencil. The keyboard was bigger and easier to use. The screen was a few shades darker, simulating an actual page. This was an intriguing development.
The more I read about the Kindle, the more appealing it seemed. I’ve never been one to get in on the ground floor of technology. I had my cell phone for five years before I upgraded. I didn’t have a stereo with a CD player until I was fifteen, feverishly holding onto the cassette tape. I bought a minidisc player. The Kindle was my chance to prove to my friends and myself that I was not a Luddite. I bought my Kindle in February as a birthday present to myself.
As much as I love my iPod, many of the things I love about the album have been lost in translation. Looking at a cover on a screen isn’t the same as holding it in your hand. This disconnect doesn’t occur with the Kindle. The words look like they were written in ink rather than pixels. Everything is easier. I no longer suffer from arm strain, I can read anywhere I want, and it picks up where I left off. I’m able to read more.
The Kindle has not replaced the book; it is simply a new conduit for the beauty of the written word. It’s one of the best purchases I’ve ever made.