Endnote

A few words about books

I have always had a love of fine books. Although the excellence of the written word is important, books also exert a physical presence. If the publisher has not cheated on the quality of the paper, the words will remain legible, and the pages will not become brittle and cracked. I once read a book about ships published by a man who loved both the sea and books. Although it was more than 130 years old, it had withstood the desiccations of time better than most books one-tenth its age.

No book should be created only for the craft of print and binding, it is like a beautiful picture frame that overpowers the painting it contains. But equally, it is a travesty to print our greatest classics on acidic paper fastened only with the cheapest glue. These are not real books, only heaps of waste.

A good book is a subtle interplay of time and space: at once giving and taking. It asserts itself: it captures its readers and holds their attention to the last word. If it is a fine book, well written and well bound, it is worth the space it takes on my bookshelf. As we hurtle toward a future of e-books, I feel we are losing something. Our legacy to those who follow is a micro-culture with no greater substance than the breath of an ant.

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