The great objection to new books is that they prevent our reading old ones – Joseph Joubert

So, as I warned you, I am now an official Kindler. My Kindle came, I charged it and I filled it. Well, it's not quite full - far from it, indeed - but it's humming along nicely with a selection of poetry, plays, short stories, history and psychology.  And a smattering of music to help me along the way.

It really is very cool. Ignore the fact that it's a solid, cold piece of technology. Just embrace the fact that it carries a whole library within.  And more.  At your disposal at all times.  Which can even be read to you when reading is beyond you. In whatever unimaginable circumstances that may be.

I bought a lovely (burgundy) cover to protect it.  More coolness.  It features a light to help me do the deed should gloom and doom threaten my enjoyment and my eyesight. Seriously folks, you have to consider this thing.

My first real voyage will be a brief and possibly not so exciting affair with work. But it has taken on a whole new hue now that it will afford me my first outing with said Kindle. This is so very exciting. Which tells me much about the state of my own affairs at this present time...

Still, I know that not everyone shares my excitement. I increasingly read articles and comments voiced from across the globe disparaging the emergence and progression of such sinister technology which seeks to devour and destroy physical books. Seriously.

True bibliophiles - and we are many - will never give up the printed word. The book. Touching and smelling and absorbing it.  But lovers of the written word can surely only rejoice that reading is being promoted by these means. 

My own father - a man of few words, fewer of which were ever in writing - has embraced such new technology. He enthused to me recently that he was considering taking up a book he's been tempted to read since childhood.  Since childhood!  Simply because the options now available to him defy and defeat his literary complexes. 

 

Maybe reading on a screen is less intimidating than reading off the physical page.  Whatever works, methinks. And I believe sincerely that my father, while exceptional, is not the exception.  He may well be the rule in these matters.

A fellow bookworm did, however, underline the limitations of my dear little Kindle. Recounting her summer adventures, she pointed out that the Kindle just would not suit. She had left home with a selection of books to read. Read them. And disposed of them en route.   Lightening her load as she travelled about.  But also providing a wonderful opportunity:  the gap left in her suitcase by the books was exactly the right size to accommodate the new pair of shoes she'd promised herself. Travelling with a Kindle would take away that opportunity.  And the justification.  Indeed.  Life's dilemmas just never end, do they?