TO KINDLE, OR NOT TO KINDLE?

Since my niece Ellie was born, I’ve made a tradition of gifting her books.I often hear about how rapidly babies and toddlers outgrow clothing. Toys can take up a lot of space and over entire living rooms. I’ve seen it happen. Books, on the other hand, will grow with her. Whenever I pick out a book for her, I write a note on the inside cover before sending them off in the post. The packages travel thousands of miles to reach her doorstep. Soon, she’ll be able to read my messages all by herself. Over the last five years of birthdays, Christmases and “just because”, she’s inherited many of the classics I grew up with as a kid. Her expanding library already out-rivals the one I had when I was twice her age. Perhaps the sweetest thing about it all is that she calls me the book-fairy, associating me with every single one on her shelf. While it isn’t completely accurate, it’s a title I love more than anything. I see no need to correct her. 

For a long time, I considered myself a purist when it came to reading. I favored used books over new ones, paperbacks with broken spines over stiff, heavy hardcovers, and libraries over pretty much everything else. Part of the charm of reading is the simplicity in it. There’s nothing to download, no home screen to navigate from, and no battery to charge and later store away with the scary drawer of tangled up chargers. 

I’ll read all the way up to the touching acknowledgements. The author’s thank you’s and parting words often turns me into a bigger fan of theirs than I was prior. It’s empowering to close a book you’ve nursed for days/weeks/months for the last time and with a slightly better understanding of the voice behind the narrative. 

A couple friends told me how much they enjoy their e-Readers. Their convenience and portability was often mentioned, but what it offered in practicality, it seemed to lack in romance. A kindle sitting on a coffee table isn’t as aesthetically pleasing as a cozy bookshelf against a wall. Beautiful covers with handwritten notes inside are so much more personal than cold metal.

I spent over a year waffling back and forth on whether someone like me had any business with one. I’ve reached an age now where I understand why generations before me tend to resist new technology (hence, my lack of interest with figuring out TikTok). My mind was intrigued by them however my heart wasn’t convinced. 

Last summer, Jordan put an end to my indecision and surprised me with a Kindle Paperwhite for my birthday. The timing was perfect. I didn’t have a new book to bring along on our camping trip.  With excited hesitation, I downloaded a sample of The Coincidence of Coconut Cake by Amy Reichert, a charming tale about a chef and a food critic who meet and fall for one another without realizing that his scathing review was responsible for her restaurant’s near-closure. Within a few pages, I forgot I wasn’t reading from a traditional book. It’s gentle on the eyes and looks so similar to reading print on paper. I don’t know if I would’ve crossed paths with one of my most beloved books had it not appeared on the Kindle homepage first.

Like many things, I’ve come to realize the debate of book vs. Kindle is not an all or nothing situation. Truth is, I enjoy both for different reasons and regularly alternate between them depending on my mood. 

I have fond memories dating back to childhood at the library or local bookshop. Thumbing through covers, pulling them out and putting them back; breathing in the stale paper smell. Even when I walk away empty-handed, I always leave in a better mood. No matter how many books await in my digital queue, I can’t stay away from the visceral experience of being surrounded by shelves stretching out before me in all directions. 

Scrolling through webpages of books online however, doesn’t offer the same sense of satisfaction. I prefer to search for electronic books with a more focussed game plan. If I can’t find what’s on my read-list for free or a good deal, the algorithm directs me to recommendations of similar authors and titles that I might enjoy. With my library card number, I can access the virtual library via Overdrive and Libby and place holds on e-books from the luxury of my couch. It’s like magic.

The Kindle doesn’t try to be something it’s not. Unlike a tablet or iPad, the device can’t surf the internet or access apps. Multiple windows aren’t competing for my attention. I can stay wrapped up in fiction for as long as I want without notifications snapping me back into reality. Behind their fancy facade, Kindles are an earnest product that sets out to do one thing: make reading more streamlined and convenient.

Sunlight floods our cabin in the daytime but turns into a moody cave at night. For anyone who shares the woes of minimal overhead lighting, you know that small lamps and candlelight aren’t well-equipped for night-time reading (as cozy as it feels). The subtle blue-light-free glow of the Kindle resolves my problem. I can now read comfortably from anywhere while laying pretzeled in different positions. Since it weighs less than my phone, the amount of fumbling awkwardly against gravity or losing my page is down to a minimum. My wrists and eyeballs are so much happier now. I love the feeling of being tucked into bed without needing to get up to turn off the light when I’m ready to drift off to sleep. The device powers off on its own after a few minutes. Some of the best sleep I’ve gotten is after being mid-sentence on my Kindle.   

Recently I let go of the idea of needing to suffer through bad books for the sake of completing them. Seeing a physical book taunting me from my nightstand used to make me feel a moral obligation to it. Reading on a Kindle is far less committal. I can swiftly remove a title from my library as quickly as it took to download. Out of sight, out of mind. As my brother once said, “there’s too many books in the world not to prioritize the good ones.” I’ve dedicated most of my Kindle reading to the thousands of free Prime books or to renting electronically which has saved me so much time and money. 

Stories are the best gift to give and receive. They grow with you. Whatever form it takes on, it’s a gesture of connection and a way to share an experience from a few miles away to a few thousand. The constant rotation of reading material has only enhanced my experience, not taken away from it. In the debate of book vs. kindle I say, why choose one when you can have both?