Anna Andreevna Akhmatova

Typically, I’m quite a technophile. I’ll probably get myself an iPad (as soon as it has 3G coverage here in Japan, that is, and I know that I will be able to read books on it, as well as do other things that I want to do), and I like new toys a lot. I’ve held off getting a dedicated ebook reader, though, and a couple of books I’ve just bought have reminded me just how wonderful real books are.

The first is a book on typography, which goes into minute detail about the joy of type, focussing on such esoterica as the difference in appearance of typefaces when printed using letterpress as opposed to offset technology. All such subtlety is necessarily lost at the relatively coarse resolution of a computer, or an iPad. Not that many people know or care about the difference between Bookman and Bodoni, for example – but in my experience most people actually do recognize good typography when they see it (Beneath Gray Skies has had a few people comment on its design – good – I chose the typefaces with care, and put some effort into the way the book appears on the page and it’s good to see this appreciated). I also believe that people react, if only subconsciously, to poor quality typography. Ebooks will deprive people of this – being able to pick your own font and type size can destroy much of the impact of a piece of writing. Needless to say, this book is a beautifully produced and designed piece of work.

The second is a book of Anna Akhmatova’s poetry (in translation – my Russian language ability is practically non-existent). It contains the wonderful lines, referring to those who lost their loved ones as prisoners of the Stalinist era:

I should like to call you all by name
But they have lost the lists…

(to my ears, two of the saddest lines in poetry), also translated elsewhere as:

I’d like to name you all by name, but the list
Has been removed and there is nowhere else to look.

As I say, I don’t speak or read Russian, but it seems that this:

Хотелось бы всех поименно назвать,
Да отняли список, и негде узнать

is best translated by this anonymous “they” who have lost the lists, which I prefer, even if the part about there being nowhere else to look seems to be omitted. In any case, what is so nice about this book, quite apart from the content, is that it is a relatively low-cost Everyman Pocket Poets edition; with all the elements of a “real” book (as opposed to a paperback): hard cover, cloth casing, with dust-jacket, and with a real binding and half-rounded spine to it, not to mention a silk marker. The cream paper is really pleasant, and the type has been chosen carefully. A real pleasure to carry around and read. I am now ordering a few more titles in the series because of the aesthetic pleasure of reading the physical book. If I had an ebook version, I wouldn’t feel nearly the same about it.

There is a very good article on the Huffington Post by a literary agent (not a technogeek)about how ebook reading experiences will improve. Of course they will, and there will be a lot of people (myself included) who will buy reference books or disposable books this way. But for books to treasure and remember, and to appreciate for their craftsmanship, there will always be a group of people who are willing to put up with the cost and the weight and the inconvenience of real books.