Kindle Rage

In the last year, seventy-three independent bookshops have shut down, with the total decreasing by a third since 2005. Yes, I am about to shit on Kindles and Amazon. You may leave now if you would prefer.

One reader left. Hi, mum.

Independent bookstores are closing faster than air conditioning outlets in Scotland. To me, this is a tragedy. I know there are many benefits to a Kindle: 1) you can buy Fifty Shades of Grey without anyone knowing and read it on the bus. 2) you can carry all three copies of Fifty Shades of Grey around with you in case there’s an emergency and you simply must read the words ‘and then he spanked me with a saucepan’ (artistic licence has been taken to improve upon the original). And 3) you can use a BlackBerry charger to charge it (it’s nice to have a use for that thing now you’ve got an iPhone, eh?). As I said, there are many benefits.

However, despite these overwhelming arguments in favour of Kindles, they ultimately suck. Kindles ruin the whole nature of a book. Buying a book isn’t simply about handing over your £7.99 – it’s about the whole ritual that goes with it: the trip to the bookshop, scanning the titles, feeling the spines, and flicking through the pages. If you think this is fetishizing the process, you have been reading too much erotica on your dastardly Kindle.

Some argue in favour of Amazon and Kindles because they make literature more accessible by making books cheaper. Now, I am guilty of buying books on Amazon, which undermines the consequent argument. Nevertheless – do you know how hard it is to write a good book?

Writing is an art form, and it seems absurd that some of the greatest thinkers of our time, who have had to slave away drafting, re-drafting, and re-re-drafting for months on end, are unable to make a decent living out of their work. Some of the best novelists have created and dealt with ideas that have been, or will be, assimilated into the public consciousness, taught, engaged with and enjoyed forever. If the public doesn’t support these individuals in their efforts, we will ultimately lose literature as a platform for innovative thought. I’m being slightly melodramatic, but my point is that if we want quality, we should pay for it.

What happens if one day, all the bookshops close down? Won’t it be sad if children are forced to discover their first books through the barrier of a computer screen? The tactile element of book browsing encourages an interest in the subject. When I was a kid, I wouldn’t have bothered to browse through some Amazon equivalent to find a Biff and Chip book (anyone else remember those?), but I did love going to the shop and picking out something new – even if it was usually based on the colour of the cover as opposed to the content.

I know that people will never stop reading, and some will always choose One Day over Ovid. In the end though, it’s up to our generation to keep the things we know and love alive. So if you must go and buy Scoundrel Time or Rage of Angels, at least have the conviction in your choice to go and get it from the store.