Traditional readers rejecting e-books
BOOKS. Remember them? The big lumps of wood pulp that used to clog up your shelves? Well, they’re back, and hotter than vinyl records.
Earlier this year the British Library announced that the rise of the digital age had, paradoxically, helped boost numbers visiting the British Library by 10%.
Meanwhile, James Daunt, the chief executive of Waterstones, Britain’s leading bookselling chain, revealed that sales of traditional books were rising strongly again, while demand for e-book readers had, “to all intents and purposes disappeared“.
This was something of a volte-face for Daunt, who, just three years ago, declared: “Our customers want to read digitally,” while announcing a juicy deal with Amazon to sell the online giant’s Kindle e-book readers.
Reports from the book trade speak of a spectacular Christmas with record-breaking sales.
Meanwhile, Waterstones’ rival, Foyles, says its sales were up by 8.1% on last Christmas, despite fewer promotions.
“The physical book is having a resurgence,” says Foyles boss, Sam Husain. “People still like to shop online, but there’s nothing like being in the bookshop.”
It wasn’t meant to be this way. When e-books took off in the mid-Noughties, many foresaw the death of the printed variety that has dominated the market for 600 years, and great was the wailing and gnashing of teeth among traditionalists.
A slim, six-ounce Kindle could store hundreds of books, and the device was packed with nifty features for tech-addicted customers.
The book was clearly headed the same way as the quill. Or the typewriter. Or, for that matter, the vinyl record.
Happily, the e-book pioneers forgot something important. There are some things that technology can’t replace, and readers began to realise that a proper book possessed something akin to a soul. Not just older readers, either.
Behind the world’s unstoppable technological advance, it seems, is the awkward human refusal to be rushed. Or conned into believing that things that will actually make their lives more complicated will make them easier.
Or sold expensive solutions to problems that don’t exist. And from these stirrings of resistance is arising the phenomenon of low-tech.
Clam-shell and “flip” phones are the new height of chic, with the likes of Anna Wintour, editor of US Vogue, singer Rihanna and actress Scarlett Johansson all flaunting the venerable devices.
Good-quality examples of these old phones can fetch more than £800 (R15 000) and so big is the demand that Samsung, the Korean manufacturer, is bringing out a new version.
The same sound reasoning may explain the comeback of the Polaroid “instant photo” camera.
Last year’s Hollywood nude photo scandal in which hackers accessed Apple’s iCloud storage system and put naked pictures of more than 100 actresses on the internet, had a chilling effect in celebrity circles.
It was excellent news for Polaroid, though. Near bankrupt in the early 2000s, the US corporation stopped selling its famous self-developing film in 2007.
The rights were bought by a small Dutch-based company, the Impossible Project, which is now struggling to meet demand.
Someone should write a book about it. – The Sunday Telegraph