Fictional stories

January 18, 2021

I’ve never understood the pleasure of reading digital books. It seems odd to think that reading through a screen can be more amusing than having the physical work in hands. It sounds almost outrageous when I hear comparisons that attempt to claim the effect on the reader is the same.

First of all, there will never be equal enthusiastic experience as the one we can delight upon when browsing at a book shop, even if followed by an online purchase.

Secondly, holding a book and unfolding the chapters as they reveal a new world to our imagination will never be reached by scrolling down the digital device: the effect can be the opposite, not to say inferior. Our eyes are prevented from contemplating it as a whole; instead, our observer can only catch a fragment of something so much greater: the cover and the chosen colors and typos that differ it from the crowd, its heavy or light weight, the feeling of possessing something that belongs to nobody else, but you.

This can only make me conclude what has been evident for so long: developing intimate, meaningful relationships will never be the same through a virtual screen.


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