"Shelf Expression" is the title of Rob Walker's article in the New York Times Magazine's August 8th edition about the second life of books (in light of the startling information that amazon sold more e-books in the previous financial quarter than hardcover books). Everyone in the media is busily sounding the death knoll of the ink-and-papery aspect of print like some sort of deranged animal obsessed with prophesying its own demise (and, one might argue, thereby willing it). Walker's article considers furniture companies marketing color-coordinated book bundles to decorators (what is an unreadable pile of books meant to convey? the collapse of utility in design?), DIY-ers building bookshelves out of salvaged encyclopedias (irony?), and artists adapting books to fanciful sculptural purposes (look for Brian Dettmer, Sue Blackwell, Georgia Russell and others). Even my husband has offered to buy me an ipad in return for the liquidation of my library, and don't even get us started on the predicted demise of print journalism...
There are all kinds of studies comparing the efficacy of e-readers as compared to books. Some focus on comparative reading speeds, some on retention, and others on relative distraction. While the results are interesting, and for me somewhat gratifying, my own predilections hardly need bolstering by research. I like to have an object in my hand, an object upon which I can scribble, notate and underline. In this way I rewrite the text, or better, write myself into it and write it into my life. I feel a very acute sort of melancholy when I see old French paperbacks propping up necklaces, earrings and sunglasses in the middle of clothing stores, as though they still bear the imprints of their late owner's hands, the remnants of the reader's gaze, a face, a response...
