A little over two years ago, shortly after Total Boox entered the library market, NSR published a story written by Total Boox CEO and Founder, Yoav Lorch, on the absurdity of ebooks disappearing from devices. Sue Polanka (founder of NSR) wrote in her introduction to the story that it was a “clever tale showing us the sad state of ebook borrowing in libraries.”
Since the picture hasn’t changed much, and the absurdity of ebook content disappearing from devices still reigns in 2016, I’ve asked Mr. Lorch for permission to publish the story again. Enjoy.—Ed.
Clearly the most violent act in the history of reading
by Yoav Lorch
Its 5:20 PM. My wife should be home in about half an hour. I promised I’d do the dishes and have the place looking decent when she returns. I have 47 pages to go with my book, and I’m dying to complete it. Yes, I can complete it before it expires and evaporates from my device at 5:46, but then, the dishes. The sink looks like a railroad crash on a rainy day.
Two real tragedies are rapidly converging on my life. The book, by some royal decree, will vanish from my tablet, like Cinderella, at 17:46 sharp. No chance for appeal. To get back to it I’ll have to go through the torture of placing a hold and waiting weeks for it to re-enter my life. If I leave the sink like this for another day it will develop into a solid proof of my lack of character, and shine forever in our complex familial matrix of proofs.
The only solution is to combine. I reckon I don’t really need to see the dishes I wash. Most of it is repetitive rotational hand movement anyway, and doesn’t need much looking after. Yes, I can manage this not-so-complex balancing act. I place the tablet on a turned-over salad bowl, and pump some soap into the sponge.
When my wife appears on the scene I’m frantically trying to resuscitate the dripping tablet with a hair drier. The sink now looks like a train crash on a snowy day. I’ll probably never know how my book ended. I’m certain it no longer resides in the bowels of the struggling tablet. They train them to escape even from clinically dead, non-responding devices, in the midst of train crashes in hostile weather.
Book Snatching – The Historical Perspective
Long ago, say in 2004, Julia was sitting on a park bench, enjoying her book. It was early autumn, coldish but comfortable. There were very few people in the park and they seemed to be perfectly placed, adding a human touch to this mostly natural scene.
A man in a grey uniform walked slowly towards Julia. He stopped at her bench, stood over her, and looked at his watch. Julia barely acknowledged his presence. At a certain point, with one sharp movement, the man pulled the book from Julia’s hands, closed it, placed it under his arm, and started walking away. He muttered mechanically “Sorry, regulations, it’s 5:46 now,” and kept walking. Julia tried to hide her disappointment, and even attempted a smile. Rules are rules. We all know them. No need to get personal.
So what was inconceivable rudeness and absurdity in 2004 has become in 2014 [and 2016], with the generous assistance of modern technology, commonplace and acceptable. How did this happen?