The new device weighs almost two tons. Even though it rests on wheels, getting it into the book store required a major pushing effort by members of the staff.
Called the Espresso Book Machine, it can turn out a book in less than five minutes. Almost four feet wide, three feet deep, and four and a half feet high, this new contraption prints, binds, and trims in remarkably short order.
By selling the book first, then producing it, the procedure reverses the usual order of retail sales. Dane Neller, one of the two partners who own the Espresso, claims their invention has the potential to change the publishing industry notably.
The inventors cite five benefits: 1) books can be produced and distributed on site; 2) books an be chosen from an almost limitless digital list, and delivered more efficiently; 3) the work of self-published authors can be distributed instantly; 4) literacy can flourish more easily in undeveloped areas; and 5) fewer materials will be wasted.
The Harvard Book Store (an independent business, located in Harvard Square and not related to the university) takes pride in its new robot. When visiting this, my favorite book store, I gazed on this large metal contraption and I felt awe.
But why? The 21st century has provided other devices for those of us who love to read. My sister loves her Kindle. My daughter, a book editor, swears by her Sony Reader. Some people do most of their reading on laptops or even Blackberrys.
To me, however, a book printed on paper is a marvelous piece of technology─quiet, convenient, durable, and perhaps even esthetically pleasing. Gutenberg got it right in the 15th century, but the process was perhaps a bit slow.
Bronwen Blaney, Harvard Bookstore’s Print on Demand Manager, serves as the resident expert on the workings of what is now affectionately dubbed the Paige M Gutenborg. She gladly demonstrates to anyone interested how Gutenborg works.
The paperbacks it spews forth, if from the millions on the list held by Google, can quickly provide books not to be found on the store’s shelves. Thousands of books belong in the public domain and can easily be copied, but many were not legally available. Now they can be printed without delay.
Currently, hardly any other stores across the country have the Espresso Book Machine. Northshire Bookstore in Manchester, Vermont has had it for more than a year but first in a clunkier earlier version. Surprisingly, no stores in New York City or Los Angeles have it yet. Nor does Barnes and Noble or any other large chain of booksellers.
Bronwen Blaney is proud to point out this contrast. For her, it demonstrates the spirit of a single independent bookstore that must be innovative to survive.
In addition to printing books already published, the new machine stands ready to print unpublished manuscripts. That’s what I plan to do with at least one of my own works, a memoir. I wish to turn this manuscript, long waiting offstage, into a paperback that can take its place front and center among my family’s archives.
Were the bookstore to buy Espresso, it would cost $100,000. Rather than incurring such an expense, this store has leased the machine. To make it pay, the machine has to print sat least twenty books a day.
Already it gives promise of proving a commercial success. One customer has called from France asking for a hard-to-find scholarly volume. Handling this kind of request on the part of scholars and other users of rare books could produce steady income for the store.
Much may depend, however, on the fate of suits against Google. If this company loses in court, then there would be restrictions on the size of the lists available to Espresso. However, the list would still remain huge.
I share the enthusiasm expressed by the developers of Espresso. Not without warrant, they brag about its being fast, local, green, and affordable. That’s the way I see it also.
It is especially rewarding to find, in a state-of-the-art robot, the representative of a tradition that has enriched human lives for centuries.
However, when I share my experience of the invention with others, I am surprised by their ho-hum response. Even those who live nearby seem reluctant to visit the store and gaze on the machine at work. I wonder if Gutenberg himself century would have encountered the same indifference.
To me, one of the gifts of living long is to experience the innovations of clever people. They compensate for my relative lack of enterprise. These inventions also give me a taste of the wonders that will occur in this world after I have departed for other shores.
It feeds my sense of wonder to behold what people with ingenuity can accomplish. Bring on the inventions of the future so that I can admire them and take on a vitality that adds so much to later life.