Tag Archives: bookasinterface

Physical Bodies

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Borsuk’s 4th chapter had a quote that was an impetus for a revelation I had in regards to the way I think about books and us as humans. On top of that, it also makes me appreciate the book as a physical object so much more than before taking this class, and reading this specific chapter. The quote I read that prompted this revelation was in relation to the popularity of the codex, “…it has proven useful as a portable, source-efficient physical support suited to the average human body” (Borsuk 197-198). This idea that the book is suited to the physical human body—not necessarily the mind but our hands, arms, etc.—therefore the book, then, is a reflection of our own physical body. There is an inherent, often unrealized, point of connection when holding a book or even a smartphone.

It brings me back to the practice of mindfullness, where you consciously bring yourself into the present and actively bring yourself back into your own body. This usually leads to a clearer mind and can help you focus. It’s a concept I learned about when I attended a behavioral program to help with my anxiety/OCD and depression. I used to heavily disassociate, but in learning mindfullness techniques I could bring myself back from that 2D-like game-scape into the real world. The mindfullness exercise I came up with was putting my hands on some part of my skin, closing my eyes, and just focusing of the feeling of my own skin (I also focused on my breathing too). Now I think of touching/holding the physical book as a mindfullness exercise, and when I think back to my visits to special collections for the midterm project, I realize I was already doing this; I would be in the present with the physical book, feeling the pages and the ink which connected me to the moment, my body, and the book itself. I think from now on, every time I touch a book, and physically feel it in my hands the same process will occur. In this way the book is a physical extension of my physical body and a mirror of it.

For a moment my body and that book (or laptop or phone or etc.) are interacting and participating in an exchange. For a moment there is an undeniable physical connection only broken when I am no longer holding or touching the book.

Borsuk’s Final Chapter, “Book as Interface”

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In Chapter 4, “Book as Interface,” Borsuk presents the book as not just an object, but as something we interact through, an interface which connects us to ideas. She explains that “the book is an idea we have of a bounded artifact… able to take any number of physical forms… It is, essentially, an interface through which we encounter ideas” (Borsuk, 197). I found it interesting how Borsuk sees the book as flexible and adaptable, yet still rooted in the habits we’ve built over centuries of reading. Even when we read digitally, we’re still basing it on “a history of physical and embodied interaction that has taught us to recognize and manipulate it” (Borsuk, 197). Even our digital reading experiences are shaped by how we’ve learned to hold and manipulate the physical, material book.

Borsuk points out that “the book accommodates us, and we accommodate to it” (Borsuk, 198). Borsuk presents the relationship between us and the book as not a one way relationship, but two. We shape how books are read, and they shape how we read. She brings in Lori Emerson’s argument that modern technology often hides its interfaces, “turning us into consumers rather than producers of content” (Borsuk, 198). Despite this, the physical book continues to influence how we think about reading, “the book is a model… for the way we think about reading in electronic spaces” (Borusk, 201). Our e-readers, kindles, and various digital readers still mimic the design and pages of what we view as the classic ‘book’, even though they don’t have to. With modern technology, we have nearly infinite ways to re-imagine reading, yet, the physical, material book still guides us. 

Week 9: Development of the Interface

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Online documents and e-books are designed to give readers or viewers a sense of similarity and feeling of understanding. Through designed features made to look like the physical medium, it gives viewers a feeling of ease moving from the physical medium to the other. In Chapter 4, Borsuk writes, “e-readers have dimensions that appropriate a thin paperback. Most enable highlighting and annotation, stimulate both page-turning and virtual bookmarking, and hold one’s place. This is entirely on purpose, making an allusion by designers so people are more apt to buy a digital product because of its familiarity. When docs or search engines came out, it needed to look familiar, taking knowledge of where things go on the paper and try it on the digital page. Google docs shows a literal paper page on the screen so we then know where to start writing and how to transfer physical text to digital.

For the past decades, most things have been made to look like the physical and ignore the code underneath, hiding that what we do on the computer isn’t exactly what we do on paper, it’s a completely different system. But now it seems as though that’s starting to change. Consumers and designers are accepting more unfamiliar versions of technology like VR or self-driving cars, putting more trust in advancing tech.

Our advancement of what we’re comfortable with and the fascination for technology and something digital and unhuman is displayed in coming designs. Borsuk writes, “the design of such readers has gradually streamlined to minimize buttons and dials, heightening the sense that they are simply interfaces for engaging with text and perpetuating the myth of digital disembodiment. They let readers change type size and interface, illuminate the screen in low light, and, on some devices, use built-in text-to-speech functions to play their books aloud. These accessibility features mark an important distinction from the fixed interface of print and would not be possible without digitalization.” Our tolerance for a more tech-based world are based on how the digitalization of the interface has helped people. It has made it easier, faster, and more accessible to learn. Our concern with the strangeness of digital interfaces has worn off over the years of it easing our lives. In that emphasis though, is the lack of care whether an interface stays familiar, ignoring the importance of the physical and being physically active in our learning, reading, and writing? In our encouragement of tech advancement and moving design further into technological and sterile aesthetics, is that ignoring the creative history of the interface and appreciation of physical work like making pages, ink, and illustrations?

The Book as Interface – Completing the Circuit

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Over the past weeks, my thoughts about the book have slowly shifted. From body, to space, to page. Each chapter of Borsuk’s The Book has opened a new way of seeing what it means to read. This week, reading Chapter 4, I realized that all these ways were already connected by something larger: the book as interface.

Borsuk reminds us that the book is not only an object we hold, but a surface where meaning happens. It stands between us and the text, turning thought into touch, paper into feeling. What struck me most was the line “The book accommodates us, and we accommodate to it.” (p. 198) It captures exactly what I have been circling around all along. Reading is not just something we do, but something that also shapes us. We lean toward the page and the page leans back.

In earlier chapters, I imagined each page as a room, a space to walk through. With Borsuk’s idea of the interface, that room now has a threshold, which is the moment where we cross from our world into the book’s. The interface is that invisible border, one that feels natural only because we have learned not to see it. When she describes how modern devices try to make the interface “transparent”, I think back to Mak’s observation that we have been trained to treat the page’s edges as the limits of our thinking. Both show that what feels natural is often the product of design. A quiet space built around our attention.

What makes Borsuk’s idea powerful is that it reintroduces the body. Touching, turning, swiping, each is a way of thinking through movement. The gestures may have changed, from paper to glass, but the intimacy remains. Reading becomes a circuit that includes us. The author, the text, the page and the reader’s hands all connected in one loop of attention.

Looking back, I have really enjoyed this journey through The Book. Each chapter felt like walking a little further inside it. From its body, to its rooms, to the very surface that connects us to it. What is most interesting to me is how much my own perception has changed along the way. I began by thinking of the book as something to look at, but now I see it as something to move through. The book is not a fixed thing, but a living relationship. A body that greets us, a space that invites us in, and finally, an interface that completes itself only through our touch. Every time we turn a page or brush a screen, we close that circuit. In the end, the book is not what stands between us and meaning. It is the place where we meet it.

Week 8: Book as Interface

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When I read Michelle Levy and Tom Mole’s The Broadview Introduction to Book History, one passage stood out to me. On pages 5 and 6, they describe how reading has changed over time, from people reading intensively, focusing deeply on a few important texts, to people reading extensively, moving quickly through many different books. They explain that reading styles have always adapted to social and technological change. This idea made me stop and think about how I read today.
In the past, reading was slow and careful. Books were expensive and rare, so readers returned to the same text again and again, often reading aloud or in groups. Today, we have access to more information than ever before. We read messages, posts, articles, and ebooks every day. I realized that my own reading feels more like “extensive” reading. I move quickly, searching for key points and jumping between sources.
Still, I miss the feeling of being completely absorbed in one book. When I take time to sit down with a printed book, without my phone nearby, I notice more. I read slower, but I understand better. Levy and Mole’s passage reminded me that how we read reflects the world we live in. Maybe the goal isn’t to go back to the past but to find balance to keep the deep attention of older reading habits while embracing the variety and access that modern reading gives us.