— Thesis abstract, v.3 —

A book is a physical thing. It has a shape, it has heft. The form of the codex — a collection of pages bound on one edge between covers — is a deep structure, an iconic form imbued with its own meaning. Proportioned for the human hand, it is symmetrical across its spine like the human body. 

A book is a symbol, a frame. It is a space, a sequence of spaces, both finite and limitless. Its borders are clearly delineated by the edges of its pages and the covers that protect it. And yet it expands infinitely outward: temporally, through the turning of its pages; imaginatively, through the immersive act of reading; and relationally, through the connections made between texts and readers across time. 

We are living in a period of major transition, a massive shift from the printed page to the digital screen. Our relationship to books, both as objects and as texts, is changing. The benefits of new technologies are hard to deny — digital books are searchable, sortable, and interactive; they are shiny and they are weightless. But there is much that we overlook by only looking forward. 

A book on screen is not a book. It is a translation of a book. 

A book is not simply a mute container for its contents. It tells the story of its creation through its physical presence. It accrues history through its use. Its place on our shelves and in our lives will not be easily replaced by backlit screens and simulated page turns.

The Book in Translation is an attempt to document and comment upon the condition of the book at this time of transition. It is a series of experiments using books as both subject matter and form. I take notions of translation and transformation and turn them back on themselves, restoring the ephemeral into physical form, making abstract notions tactile. I play in the liminal spaces, the moments when the page turns.  

— Thesis abstract, v.0 —

The book is one of the oldest artifacts of culture. The codex form that we still recognize and use today has existed for 2 millennia. It is itself a signifier of culture and society. At this very point in time, when the book is purported to be on its last legs, it is crucial that we reexamine its place in our lives.

Books are more than just vessels for the contents they carry. They are—by the very fact of their physical presence—touchstones, totems, and promises. They are the embodiment of knowledge, a physical form suggesting authority and completeness. A book is a frame—a stack of pages, printed and gathered, bound between covers—which presents itself as the authority on a subject at a particular time. A book is quiet, but full of unlimited potential. A book is infinite—simultaneously demarcated by its physical dimensions and format, but also opening to an almost impossible number of pages within, each a potential portal to another thought, another world.

With the massive book-scanning projects of Google and the Internet Archive, our concept and experience of the library has changed. The dominance of Amazon has forever altered the system of distribution, first of physical books and now digital texts. The rapid acceptance of the iphone, ipad, and dedicated ebook readers like the Kindle has changed the experience of reading, the contexts in which we read, and the expectations and demands we make the books. The ephemeralizing of the book challenges its tradition place as a fetishized object for collection. What happens in the shift away from the physical artifact? What is lost—and what is gained—in the shift to digital forms? Bookstores and libraries are closing, yet the availability of print-on-demand services makes everyone a potential bookmaker. So, what is a book, right now? And where do we go from here?

This thesis seeks to insinuate itself into the current discussion about books: their presence, their present, and their future. Through experiments in book form, and investigations into the meanings and values we place on books both physical and ephemeral, I playfully engage in this vital dialogue.