“I can imagine a world without books. I cannot imagine a world without reading.”
For generations, print books have been central to the reading experience. Yet, with each passing decade, the digital encroaches further, reshaping how we interact with text. We are among the first generations to experience this digital shift, and its implications for reading remain largely uncharted. Andrew Piper’s Book Was There: Reading in Electronic Times provides an essential exploration of this transition, examining how the print book continues to influence the digital screen and, by extension, the act of reading itself.
The title Book Was There borrows from Gertrude Stein, who understood the profound importance of location in reading. Piper reflects on this notion, remarking, “My daughter … will know where she is when she reads, but so too will someone else.” This observation carries both promise and an undercurrent of unease, as we grapple with what it means to “know where we are” in a digital landscape.
Piper does not argue for or against print or digital books. Instead, he illuminates their complexities. The print book is a physical object. It is “at hand,” a tangible presence capable of reinforcing ideas through continuous reference. Meanwhile, the term “digital” is rooted in “digits,” or fingers, emphasizing its tactile origins. Digital texts are ambient and accessible, opening doors to diverse voices and debates. Yet, as Piper notes, digital spaces can also reinforce echo chambers, where dissent is ignored.
One of the enduring criticisms of digital text is its perceived instability—turn off the power, and it disappears. Piper counters that digital text is surprisingly resilient, requiring extreme measures, like hard drive immolation, to truly erase. This duality of permanence and fragility typifies the digital age.
The physical book, with its two-dimensional pages facing one another, invites reflection in ways the single-dimensional scrolling of web pages may not. Does the latter numb the mind, or does it offer new cognitive possibilities? Piper doesn’t provide definitive answers but raises questions worth considering.
The digital medium has also redefined authorship and collaboration. Traditional books were often solitary endeavors, while digital works, like Wikipedia, emerge from collective contributions. Piper wonders whether such collaborative writing can ever achieve the cohesive weave of literature. Similarly, the ease of sharing in the digital age—derived from “shearing,” or splitting—has redefined how books are consumed and altered. Readers can now “fork” texts, publishing their own endings or versions. While this fluidity can spur creativity, Piper cautions that over-sharing may lead to fragmentation, as seen in the early development of Unix. Yet, Unix itself ultimately thrived. Might digital literature follow a similar trajectory?
Twenty-five years ago, a professor of mine lamented that he could not read all the academic literature in his discipline. Today he can with “distant reading,” the use of big data technologies, natural language processing, and visualization, to analyze volumes of literature in detail. In Piper’s research, he calculates how language influences the writing of a book, and how in turn the book changes the language of its time. It measures a book in a way that was never possible with disciplined close reading or speed reading. “If we’re going to have ebooks that distract us, we might as well have ones that help us analyse too.”
Piper embraces these new practices, emphasizing that they need not replace traditional reading. Print books will always hold a place for those who savor a slow, immersive read. Yet, as the digital landscape evolves, trade-offs are inevitable. Books born digital are often shorter, optimized for quick reading and algorithmic analysis. New authors write with digital audiences in mind, reshaping both readers and reading itself.
“I can imagine a world without books. I cannot imagine a world without reading.” The reading landscape is undeniably shifting. While traditional reading of print books—or even ebooks—may endure for some, it feels increasingly like a niche practice. Piper’s work reminds us that, even as the medium evolves, reading itself remains central to how we understand and engage with the world.
(Written ten years ago, this post concludes my Best Thirty Book Reviews. I am busy posting new reviews and essays. So much has changed. Today I use Generative AI to proofread and critique my writing. This morning, I heard that Microsoft has launched a publishing imprint. Heavily invested in AI, they are not currently accepting unsolicited manuscripts. Books and reading are still here, it is writing that may be at risk.)
Published on September 20, 2014
Updated on December 7, 2024