Not A Book

When is a book, not a book? When it doesn't have pages to turn. The current rage to make everything into un-realia: text conversation, i- photos, comp games and yes,e books  is tragic. I, a user, as most these days, have an electronic book, although it is not my preference. I like a "real" book to read. The e book is more practical to take along rather than fill my luggage with tomes that  make it a crucial choice between them or a pair of hiking boots. Otherwise, I much prefer the intimacy of a paper book. First, it has  character. It's size and how it feels in the hand, the font and illustrations, the heft of it and even it's vulnerability appeals. A book speaks of itself. My first school book was a reader in the days when children all read one volume and popped up in turn for oral reading. And while that method is shunned today, there was something magical about sharing the slender child tattered Jerry and Jane, Laddie and Snow. When we "took out" our readers, we were all on the same page! The pictures, in only blue, black and orange inks were unique.  The smell of those child-used books was unforgettable and the kids in my class dug their noses into them as soon as they were  handed out each day. Run Jerry go. See Jane run.  See Snow jump.  Run Laddie run. It took few words to make a story, one that was made clearer with minimal drawings. Books were revered in the days of great Carnegie libraries where you went for family entertainment instead of the Golden Arches.  In those brick halls with their awe-inspiring domes, and high silent stacks, you felt dizzy knowing that you could read any and or all of them. They were yours. Free! There on the round tables you spread out your books with the pictures you loved to trace: the prince's face, the horse's mane the fairy wings.  Each book had peculiar traits: their used pages, their texture: some smooth and silky like a satin gown or others rough like a the dwarf's coat. Still others were smooth and neat for the scientific reader.  The borrowed ones that were new carried a frightening responsibilty - the need to be protected from small siblings and the hazards of loose food. You hoped the librarian would never see you at home in your room with your apple and her book. And when you were a teen, steamy novels were skulked about and shared, with pages marked or with certain texts, the best notes and test material underscored and on the inside, with covers like archives, they showed the names of school basketball heros or friends of your sister's who actually used the same (shiver) books themselves (sigh).  Secret pages held jokes or added illustrations to giggle over and be flashed about when the teacher left the room momentarily. And when you became an avid college reader you took up theme books to exchange and  discuss with your friends on the way home from classes. Still later, you had a book with you wherever you went so that you were never alone. It was a good way to meet friends. And now, the technical age is changing it all.  But somehow the electronic book just isn't the same as the ones that had mysterious spots here and there, or a certain scent, scribbled gift greetings, dog earred corners or forgotten bookmarks. These, not screens, are the true books, the true friends.