If a Tree Falls in the Forest...

I was on a flight recently (shocker, I know) and as I tucked my Kindle away in its bright orange neoprene sleeve while we prepared to land, the guy sitting next to me asked, “So, how do you like your Kindle?” (Another side benefit of the device – it’s an instant conversation starter.) Normally, I immediately say “I love it!” without hesitation, but for some reason, I turned to this poor, unsuspecting soul and said “Here’s the thing about the Kindle: it creates a sort of existential crisis for me every time I finish a book.”

I’m sure that he immediately wished he could roll back the clock about 35 seconds and seriously reconsider the decision that prompted him to engage me in conversation. Who is this wacky chick who doesn’t even get the basics of a classic “small talk” conversation??

I could have stuck with the pat answer I’ve given numerous times before (and it would be no less true – I really DO love it), but unlucky for this guy, I’d actually been giving this a little bit of thought lately.

As I’ve previously noted, I love books. LOVE books. And while I love books because of what’s in them (natch), I also really love the books themselves. I like the look of a full bookshelf and I get a warm feeling of satisfaction when I add a recently completed volume to that collection. It’s information, it’s entertainment, it’s décor, and it’s a little peak into the reader’s mind and soul. Talk about conversation starters.

So, I admit that in spite of (re)kindling my love for the printed word in yet another format, I’m still a sucker for the traditional page-turning variety. (As an aside, will particularly engaging books now be described as “it’s a real thumb-clicker”? Yikes.)

I’ve noticed that when I finish a book on the Kindle, I have a moment of uncertainty that I’d even read the book at all. That perhaps I’d just quickly skimmed a random, disposable magazine article or that I had a dream that is now only coming back to me in fuzzy, disconnected bits and pieces… It’s a bit disconcerting to say the least. What I’ve taken for granted in the past is that I do create a set of associations of sorts with the book itself. I see the cover, and it immediately evokes memories of not only the content within, but also of the circumstances under which I consumed that particular book. Now, when I’ve completed something on the Kindle, I get the distinct sense that it’s not really real. That I didn’t really just read it. That the book doesn’t even really exist because it’s not on my shelf with everything else I’ve recently read.

Hence, my existential struggle with my new found love… If a book is finished on a Kindle, but no one is around to see it, does it make an impression?