Do people really read books any more, and does anyone care about the romantic appeal of the printed page?  Two recent New York Times articles offered opposing arguments on the future of the book.  Acclaimed literary critic Harold Bloom dug his heels in on tradition, citing the intimacy of the printed page, while Slate's editor Jacob Weisberg sang the praises of the ebook.  

Bloom is a self confessed Dinosaur, an academic traditionalist married forever to the idea of literature as high art.  He makes no secret of a loathing sentiment for the glass page.  In fact, he goes as far as to say that "the Internet is like the Congo.  I know it exists but I will never go there".  Surprisingly non-pragmatic, one might say, for a decorated Yale faculty member.

Weisberg, on the other hand, points out the many compelling reasons he sees for the ebook.  Supporting Weisberg's advocacy of the digital novel is its incarnation in the portable format afforded by new devices like the RocketBook and HP's new Pocket PC.  Throw in the heavyweight software support of products like Microsoft's Reader, and one can sense that a change has come.

Bloom's essay makes for an enjoyable read, a warm, satisfying satire on the effect technology and the age of the soundbyte has had on people's ability to reach for higher levels of self through the arts, and more particularly literature.  In acknowledging that there is a market for electronic books, he states clearly that he is "not a Luddite."  His case is more that reading from a book is "only minimally visual."  Qualifying this, he goes on: "The tyranny of the bodily eye is usurped by the inner ear, which is a metaphor for the mind exercising all its powers."  As he argues, Michael Crichton readers may enjoy ebooks, but then again, they enjoy Michael Crichton.

Read Bloom's "On First Looking Into Gate's Crichton" here.

Read Weisberg's "The Way We Live Now:The Good E-Book" here.