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A very fun thing a Kindle would never let me do again

posted 25 Aug 2011, 07:47 by Jamie Condliffe
I'm currently reading A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again by David Foster Wallace,  a wonderful gift from a friend who knows me very well indeed. It's sensationally good: his writing is lucid and clear, carefully sculpted, but transparently so. It is effortless to read - and, apparently, was effortless to write, too. Though I'm not sure I believe that.

But that's not my point.

On Tuesday, I was sat waiting for a friend, reading my book, pint in hand. A chap with a vague Irish lilt wandered over to me, mentioned he had to speak to me because I was reading Foster Wallace, and went on to reveal that he'd just finished up his PhD writing about the very same words I was reading. That conversation made me very happy indeed.

I was thinking about buying a Kindle. But with all its secrecy, its anonymity - fuck it, its complete lack of personality - now I'm not so sure.