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Yesterday, for those of you who haven’t heard, Amazon unleashed its Kindle 2.0 on the literary world – the green answer to the printed book. It is a well known fact that chunks of the Amazon and the like have been wiped out so as to appease the wannabe wizards and teen vamps who have put the book industry back in business. Though series sales have skyrocketed, paving the way for a new breed of movie adaptations (Twilight anyone?), what price have we paid for the inimitable feel of crisp paper between our fingertips?
The Green Press Initiative conducted a study in 2006 to find out. Thanks to the 4.15 billion books printed that year, the industry left behind a carbon footprint size of 12.4. That’s 12.4 tons of metric waste. Not such an insignificant double digit anymore, huh? And that doesn’t include the daily Times you tend to toss, or those 52 issues of Entertainment Weekly you’ve been saving up from last year.
Seemingly, Amazon has found the alternative. Connected to the Sprint network, the new Kindle can download any of its 230,000 books in less than a minute. It has a longer battery life and a new, streamlined look, which is said to weigh less than the average paperback. With the newly expanded hard drive, you can toss 1,500 books into your handbag or briefcase, offering you more options for your morning commute.
As a frequent flier, I think of the pounds (of both the American and British variety) I could save by not stuffing ten different books in the suitcase between my souvenirs and my shoes. As a New York City resident, I think of the space I could save in my miniscule, Manhattan apartment. As a college student, I think about the possibility of trading in all my heavy textbooks for one Kindle. If not my brain, my back certainly likes it. And yet, given this new alternative, why aren’t I jumping for joy?
I confess: I am a book addict. I have hundreds of books, both read and unread, paperback and leather-bound, movie editions and collector editions, scattered haphazardly all over my bedroom. They are piled onto my desk, stacked neatly on my nightstand, and aligned on my bookshelves. Some are even tucked away into the depths of my closet, waiting to be pulled off the shelf during a day of unbearable precipitation.
Buying a book is like finding a little piece of your soul. You have to recognize a piece of yourself in a book in order to buy it: a love story, a fantasy, a hobby, a hope. Everything from the cover art to the dedication can influence your decision. I know it’s silly. In fact, I know it is selfish. I know I can get everything and more from these new little lap books – and I can do so without damaging the environment.
Still, do to my emotional attachment, I’m hoping for an alternative to the e-book. At the moment, I’m looking to lit wiz, J.K. Rowling, who, after discovering that 250,000 trees were used to print Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, demanded that all her publishers use 100% recyclable paper to print any future editions. All agreed (except for children’s learning co., Scholastic), meaning that the newest installments of the blockbuster series are greener than Draco Malfoy’s quidditch robes.
As it turns out, magic isn’t just for the paper pages I’m stubbornly holding on to. In this case, magic is simply a synonym for eco-chic common sense.
XO, The Green Gamine
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