When I read Borsuk’s line that printing “reframed the book as content rather than object its form a mere vessel for the information it contained,” (p.57) I felt both curious and uneasy. The word mere makes it sound like the physical book is almost worthless, just a container for words. But is that true? When I think about my own reading, I don’t see books as “mere vessels.” I always notice their form. A book’s cover, the texture of its pages, even its size makes a difference. A small paperback I can carry in my pocket feels different from a large hardcover I need two hands to hold. Doesn’t the way a book looks and feels affect how you read it?

On screens, though, every book looks the same. Kindle, Wattpad or any reading app makes text uniform, black words on a glowing background. In some ways, that’s convenient the story is all that matters. But sometimes I wonder, does this sameness flatten the reading experience? Do we lose something when every book feels identical?

Interestingly, digital reading has made me appreciate physical books more. I love seeing a shelf of colorful spines or picking up a book with unusual design choices. Publishers know this too they release special editions with decorative covers or unique layouts to remind us of what makes print special. Isn’t it funny that screens, which were supposed to replace books, have instead made us value their physical form even more?

So I come back to Borsuk’s phrase. Maybe in the early days of printing, the book was treated as a vessel. But today, I think it’s both vessel and object. Books carry words, yes, but they also shape our experience of those words through their form. They are not “mere” anything they are living companions that travel with us, change us, and remind us that reading is always more than just content.