I bought a Kindle. Another purchase that ought to be questioned since its function could in theory be performed by a number of other things already in my possession – not least of all a book. But I’m thinking that while travelling across the world it doesn’t quite seem feasible to cart around a few heavily-laden bookshelves, what with baggage weight allowances being as restrictive as they are nowadays.

It is however a fairly pleasing purchase that thanks to its novelty has encouraged me to read more regularly. You look forward to picking it up. It’s almost the equivalent of turning Shakespeare or Dickens into a computer game.

But it has occurred to me that I no longer read in paragraphs, or pages, or chapters. We have moved, or some might appear to think ‘progressed’, into an age of percentages. We have witnessed the decimalisation of literature. My books are now read in uniform blocks of 10%, irrespective of their actual length or previous demarcation. The previous structuring of the work is ignored.

No longer do I peek forward to see how many pages are left before the next chapter, the point at which I am legitimately allowed to stop. I no longer inspect the front cover each time I pick up to read. There’s no longer the unravelling narrative of it’s illustration which only begins to make sense the further you progress through the story; symbols becoming relevant, characters becoming identifiable, in that epiphanous moment when you realise, “oh, that’s who that is”, or “oh, that’s what the title means”.

Apparently there’s no longer any need to care how many chapters are held within, what they have been titled, and what movements of the narrative they denote. Half the time I can’t even remember the title of the book I’m reading.

As I hit the point of 50% the moment has lost some of it’s previous joy; its sense of achievement. I can no longer hold the book up between my fingers, comparing the portion I have on the left with the portion I have on the right, trying to estimate when I have reached the all important and infinitely more profound point of ‘half-way’.

There is now just the percentage sign at the bottom of the page which changes with irritating irregularity – this page a point, that page nothing – so that almost compulsively at the end of every turn (especially if the book isn’t holding my attention) I peer down to see if it has affected my overall progress. If the marker doesn’t increase then it’s almost as if that page counted for nothing.

I now have to read to nice round numbers, in the same way one might patiently lie in bed until the clock reads exactly 08:10 and not a second less. Putting the book down at 17% would seem unholy. Putting the book down at 20% seems logical and just. If I finish the current chapter prematurely it becomes still necessary to read a further 5 pages in order to round the experience off. Or for that matter disrupt the building tension of a piece by abruptly cutting it off at 30% just a few pages before its dramatic denouement – for that is surely the correct thing to do. I mean who reads to 31%? Come on!

It makes me wonder what other areas of life will soon fall victim to this principle, this new world order, imposed upon us by some dominant and hegemonic global power. Will the concept of time itself be ‘upgraded’ by Apple, new and improved and re-branded as ITime? They’ll deftly carve up the day into logical blocks of 10, abolishing seconds, minutes and hours in favour of the much more logical Chrono (named after an ancient Greek god as is the practise to lend gravitas and a sense of bridging old and new). It would weigh in at a hearty 2.4 hours or 144 minutes of old time, a far more logical and useful unit, allowing us to lie in bed until the alarm reads 30%, and not a percentile more or less.

This would no doubt be followed by a decline in civil liberties, free speech and the degeneration of society as we know it. That, my friends, is the way the future is heading. I have foreseen it…

Sorry. I’ve just read 1984. On my new kindle. It’s black by the way and has a nice blue cover.

Previously: My fight to the death – About to Snap

Or way back: This Train Will Be Temporarily Held At This Station

Got any thoughts?…