French President Nicolas Sarkozy; image by guillaumepaumier via Flickr

Imagine the plight of the French. They want to protect their language and culture. They have what many consider to be one of the most beautiful languages, and their literary history is rich. From Molière to Flaubert to Sartre, the French have given much to the world.

Unfortunately for those who think literature is more than mere Internet “content” to attract advertising dollars, the times are changing quickly. Google is in the process of digitizing every book it can (admittedly to the great benefit of people who don’t have the resources otherwise to obtain certain texts), and soon Google and other American companies, such as Amazon and Apple, might dictate the publishing terms of books both old and new worldwide.

Faced with the possibility of losing control of its literary heritage, the French are mulling over possibilities. Even the conservative French president Nicolas Sarkozy—who has been called “Sarko l’Américain” for his pro-American sentiments—is concerned. He recently said of Google, “We won’t let ourselves be stripped of our heritage to the benefit of a big company, no matter how friendly, big or American it is.” He said France would finance its own book digitization program.

Amazon is also causing concern in France. Amazon has already battled France over the country’s prix unique du livre, which allows publishers, not booksellers, to set the price of a book. Because of this law, Amazon sells books for the same price as a small bookstore in Paris. Now five of France’s largest booksellers, including Fnac and Virgin, have proposed a nationalized ebook “hub.” There French publishers and booksellers would work together to sell ebooks online at a price determined by the publishers, preventing Amazon and other sites from competing with lower prices.

Guillaume Decitre, CEO of the French bookseller Decitre, said, “If we don’t manage to do this, what’s going to happen? We will find ourselves in front of a platform, or hub, already made by a private company . . . whether Amazon, Google or Apple.” In order to establish a nationalized ebook platform, the booksellers would have to persuade not only the French government but also French publishers, who don’t necessarily have the same interests. In fact, French publishers are thinking about creating their own single ebook platform without the booksellers.

Americans are often mystified by the French approach to politics, and many love to mock it. But if we are entering what comes to be called the Chinese century, it will be interesting to see how Americans react to their own declining empire, their own experience of being a small part of an economic world, this time dominated by Asia.

And what is the most evocative aspect of this sensory allure, the hallmark of a book’s longevity and import? It’s the smell, of course—that musty, dusty, indescribable funk that wafts out of the open tome to remind you: these ideas were forged in another time; you, dear reader, are but a single traveler over the vast continent of human intellectual history.

But “Old Book Smell” is not just for nostalgia and mysticism anymore, as a team of scientists in the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, and Slovenia has begun to analyze its chemical properties for the purpose of historic preservation. According to an article that appeared in the journal Analytical Chemistry, the scientists have isolated the most prevalent volatile organic compounds (VOCs) that are released by book paper as it biodegrades. (They’re not wafting, as it turns out; they’re “off-gassing.”)

Indescribable no more, the peculiar funk produced by these VOCs has been characterized as “a combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness.” Even having named it, however, the scientists maintain that there’s something special about this smell, calling it “unmistakable” and “as much part of the book as its contents.”

For the sake of paper books young and old, let’s hope Amazon doesn’t get a hold of the formula. The last thing we need is an off-gassing Kindle.

 Cushing Academy, a prep school in Ashburnham, Massachusetts, has decided that its traditional library is way too yesterday. As reported by the Boston Globe, Headmaster James Tracy believes paper books have become antiquated, in the way that scrolls once became obsolete with the advent of the printing press. What’s more, books take up too much space. So the 144-year-old institution is getting rid of its collection of more than 20,000 books, becoming one of the first schools in the nation to convert almost completely to digital media resources. “We see this as a natural way to shape emerging trends and optimize technology,” Tracy said.

The Cushing library will be replaced by a $500,000 “learning center” that includes three large flat-screen TVs for projecting Internet-based information ($42,000); laptop-compatible study carrels ($20,000); and 18 electronic readers from Amazon and Sony ($10,000). Learning will also be facilitated by a $50,000 coffee shop (to be built in the spot where that old dinosaur, the reference desk, used to be) featuring a $12,000 espresso machine.

Outcry is not just from bibliophiles. Even many Kindle enthusiasts and other techy types are chagrined by the sweeping nature of the Cushing decision, wondering why the school could not have struck a balance between books and new media.

Notable among those who see the book purge as “a tremendous loss for students” is William Powers, media critic for the National Journal and author of “Hamlet’s Blackberry: Why Paper is Eternal” (a 75-page position paper written in 2006, when Powers was a fellow at Harvard’s Shorenstein Center on the Press, Politics and Public Policy).  In it he argues that paper is not just a vessel for content, or an old human habit, but rather a sophisticated technology that fosters a cognitive reading experience not available through electronic media. According to Powers,

There are modes of learning and thinking that at the moment are only available from actual books. There is a kind of deep-dive, meditative reading that’s almost impossible to do on a screen. Without books, students are more likely to do the grazing or quick reading that screens enable, rather than be by themselves with the author’s ideas.

I’m inclined to agree, but then I think you can hear music better on vinyl, too—while you sit on the couch admiring the artwork on the gatefold cover.

I have long been a fan of David Byrne. Not only do I consider him to be a genius artist and musician but he also seems to be a thoughtful and keen observer. I was thus quite curious when I discovered he tried out the Amazon Kindle DX and blogged about his experiences.

It appears my assessment of Byrne as “thoughtful” may have been correct, as he goes into a lot of detail about features on the Kindle DX he liked and didn’t like so much. There are no extremes, either; he didn’t think the Kindle DX was the most incredible invention ever, and he didn’t think it was a piece of garbage. Byrne also seems to know quite a bit about other ereaders on the market, and he comments with authority about the available formats.

All in all, Byrne enjoyed using the Kindle DX. Things he didn’t particularly care for, such as the absence of a backlight or its inability to display newspaper or magazine photos well, were not deal breakers. In fact, he offered positive spins on these points: the sacrifice of a backlight means you get an impressive battery life, and if you load your Kindle DX primarily with text, who cares if the graphics don’t look red hot?

Byrne also imagines how the future of publishing will change as ereaders become more commonplace. For the Kindle DX, which offers a larger screen than the regular Kindle and is designed to accommodate textbooks, Byrne muses, “If those textbooks can be sold as weightless $10 downloads the students and their parents will cheer, and the chiropractors will cry.” Again, though, Byrne is positive. Though he believes publishers will grumble at the lower prices ebook readers will demand, he says publishers will benefit from the reduction in distribution costs.

Here are a few facts to keep in mind.

According to Bowker, in 2008 ebooks represented only 0.6 percent of all books sold in the United States. The majority of buyers were men, and more than half were between the ages of 18 and 34. This year ebook sales will still be less than 2 percent of the U.S. book market.

Here’s something else to ponder.

Most people prefer paper. According to a recent survey, only 37 percent of Americans are interested in buying an ereader. Here in France I’m often at the beach and see one person after another stetched out in the sun reading a paperback. Not an ereader in sight.

Yes, ebooks are likely a big part of publishing’s future, but for now dead-tree books, as some people disparagingly call them, are how almost everyone reads novels, biographies, cookbooks, self-help books, and titles in every other publishing category, and that’s not going to change overnight. For many people the battle between Amazon and Sony (and other smaller manufacturers) is taking place on some sparsely populated island of technogeeks.

Not to be insulting. I’m about to buy an ereader myself, and I’ve already picked out the first book I want to read on it (L’élégance du hérisson by Muriel Barbery, published by Les Editions Gallimard; in the United States The Elegance of a Hedgehog published by Europe Editions). But when I think of ebooks, I’m often reminded of this video, the funniest in my opinion of the mock battles produced by Green Apple Books.

Their strong points have always been personal service, informed recommendations, browsing of real books . . . But now, emerging on the fringes of the book world, might be a new weapon for independents, as well as bookstore chains, in their battle with Amazon.

Meet the Espresso Book Machine.

Browse a screen for book titles, read a few pages of a book, and click. The machine will print out a copy of the book in front of your eyes. You think Amazon’s two-day delivery is great? Try instant gratification.

Although not all books are available on it, more will be coming soon. Here is a video about Angus & Robertson of Australia, the first retail chain in the world to adopt the Espresso Book Machine.

In Manchester Center, Vermont, the Northshire Bookstore recently became the first independent bookstore in the United States to have an Espresso Book Machine.

Imagine the independent bookstore of the future. Walk in and browse through shelves of real books. Talk with sellers who know publishing and can suggest titles you would never have found on your own. Still can’t find a physical book to buy? Step up to the Espresso Book Machine, view virtually every book known to humankind, and click.

Amazon, now seemingly unstoppable, is dependent upon an antiquated and environmentally questionable distribution system: trucking books to warehouses, sending packages through the mail. In a world connected by wires and wirelessly, it’s hard to see how that system will survive capitalism’s unforgiving drive toward lower costs.

We are gearing up to launch ourselves into our publishing venture, and to prepare, we’ve been doing a lot of research. There are many, many opinions about the current state of the publishing industry and the direction in which it is headed. Some will tell you publishing is on the brink of death; others feel there has not been a better time to enter the industry. What is clear is the industry is in flux and affected by changes in the economy and technology.

A somewhat controversial topic, or at least one that generates a lot of opinions, is that of digital books or e-books. Personally I think that as long as there are books to read, it doesn’t matter whether they are on a printed page or in digital format. I like to switch back and forth between digital and printed books, but there are diehards out there who would prefer to avoid e-books.

I don’t know which format author J. A. Konrath prefers for reading, but in a recent blog post he made a strong case for e-books, explaining why and how publishers should produce them. A few points I found particularly interesting and thought provoking:

• Books cost too much: Konrath details how publishers determine the price of a print book and how that model can and should be changed. He argues that publishing companies are basing e-book pricing on traditional print pricing, which is calculated by profit per unit and doesn’t apply to e-books.
• Piracy should be battled not with higher security and restraints but with cheaper prices and greater accessibility: Konrath believes it is a waste of time and money for a publisher to try fight piracy. If books are cheap and easy to access and purchase (in other words, get rid of proprietary formats), Konrath argues, buyers wouldn’t pirate or steal books.
• In the future, authors may no longer need publishers: Self-publishing in a digital world is easier than ever, so authors may opt to do their own legwork and keep all the profits for themselves. Konrath is testing this premise by selling his unpublished works in digital form online, and so far he is getting positive results.

Konrath is the first to admit he could be wrong on many points, but he presents a persuasive and interesting conversation. Konrath may not be able to predict the future, but it’s hard to argue with his opinion that the publishing industry is in for some big changes.

Fortunately, until Kindle apps appear for other smartphones, there are good alternatives. Among the best are Mobipocket, a French company bought by Amazon in 2005, and eReader, owned by Barnes & Noble. Both have apps available for most smartphones, including my own, the Samsung Omnia, run on Windows Mobile.

I’ve been surprised by how pleasant and useful it is to read on a cell phone, despite the three-inch screen. Reading on my phone has been a slippery slope. It started with text messages, then e-mail, then the newspaper. When I signed up with Mobipocket, I decided I would start with a book of poems—short things to read when I was stuck somewhere and had nothing to do. With Mobipocket I was able to connect to the site and buy a book directly from my phone.

I love paper books, so in evaluating Mobipocket and eReader, the real test was whether I would use them. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. One evening at the grocery store, I found myself in the longest line of my life. I was stuck near the cosmetics and couldn’t even see the cashiers. As people grumbled around me, I decided this was the moment. I pulled out my phone. I opened up Les Fleurs du Mal. By the time I got a glimpse of the cash register, I had already read three curious, ecstatic poems by Baudelaire.

A book worth reading, published by Grove Press. Click for more information.

I thought of this event recently when I was reading a New York Times article on BookExpo America. There was Sherman Alexie, now a famous writer, quoted about ebooks. On his plane going to the convention, he saw a woman reading a Kindle. According to article, Alexie, who thinks Kindles are elitist, “wanted to hit” the woman.

I doubt Alexie really wants to hit anyone, but like many literary people, he hates and fears digital books. For authors the fear is understandable. Ebooks are potentially threatening. But this antidigital urge seems to be part of a broader trend, another act in the man versus machine drama. An earlier scene occurred in 1987, when Wendell Berry wrote a piece in Harper’s describing his disdain for computers. Although compelling, the essay was widely criticized, especially for being sexist. Instead of using a computer, Berry said in the essay, he asked his wife to type his work.

Alexie, too, received mixed reviews from his comments. To his credit, Alexie on his website wrote about the many people who sent him e-mails supporting ebooks. Some, because of physical ailments, couldn’t read without the Kindle or similar machines. Alexie, who said he has not allowed his books to be available digitally, announced he would be meeting with “folks at Amazon and Kindle” and promised not to “beat up anybody” there.

Here, in another context, is Alexie in a provocative duel.

Here’s another confession: I did very little research on the Kindle before ordering it. I had just heard it was great, that many felt they read more since buying one, that sort of thing. Now, another main reason I bought a Kindle was because I assumed it had a backlight that would allow me to read in bed or in dark rooms. Imagine my surprise when the Kindle arrived, and it had no light! Later I learned this was intentional: the Kindle is supposed to mimic actual paper as closely as possible, plus a backlit screen can cause eye strain. Still, it would be nice to have the option.

My initial impression of the Kindle was, I must admit, a bit more negative than positive. There were some little things I didn’t particularly love about it: the lack of a backlight, the small size of the screen (you can adjust the size of the text, which does help, but it seemed I was turning pages every few seconds), and the inability to adjust the contrast or grayness of the screen (the screen is a wee bit dark for my eyes). It’s a bit of a challenge to buy something sight unseen!

Despite my first reaction, I have grown to appreciate and enjoy my Kindle. I have now read about five books on the device and am fully comfortable with it. I won’t give up actual physical books, but it’s very handy to have the Kindle. The price of $359 is still quite steep, though, and makes it inaccessible to most people. Plus you should really get a case, which will run you an additional $30, but I suppose that is better than dropping the thin sliver of a Kindle and breaking it. If prices come down to around $200, I think we’ll see a lot more Kindle owners.

What do you think about the phenomenon of the Amazon Kindle or of e-book readers in general? Do you have a Kindle? How do you like it?

Amazon has made it pretty simple to publish books for sale on a Kindle. You basically just have to have an Amazon account (and who doesn’t these days) and a book to which you own the electronic publishing rights. The book can be in a number of formats, including HTML (the Amazon-recommended format), PDF, plain text, and Microsoft Word (but not .docx). You upload the file, Amazon then automatically converts the file to Amazon DTP (digital text platform), you set the Suggested Retail Price (Amazon pays you 35 percent of the Suggested Retail Price), and voila! Kindle book for sale!