C had no books, in any of the apartments he lived in (I will write about what was there another time), and we thought it was another of his principles, like burning names, refusing to cooperate with the establishment, the principle of not clinging to a planetary identity that could be 'fished'. Books have a weight that attaches you tightly to your place, your resume, your cultural or "cultural" identity. For me at least, books are the symbol of clinging to 'what I am'.
Before he was ripped off with his school he was a "bookworm." His schoolbag had three textbooks that day: English, Geography, History, a Spanish-English Dictionary, an English-Hebrew Dictionary and a Spanish-Hebrew Dictionary, three books in Spanish he borrowed that morning from the school library, and one book in Hebrew, which he carried with him everywhere (symbolically or not, it was the book "Robinson Crusoe" in some archaic translation). He kept this satchel as the only object left for him from Earth, he was at the bottom of the cosmic backpack he had on his back, which resembled at the edges a wide garment,Which resembled a wide garment (or halved butterfly wings, there were those who said), which I saw only twice, on the day he came to Earth and the day he left. I do not know if he took the satchel with him again.
But the books C was reading now, he read through sensors connected to his nerves when he passed the Lindigra, books written and broadcast in telepathy. No book on earth has yet been adapted to this format, and C, perhaps because of the change his nerves have undergone, it became clear to us over time, was no longer able to read the books in the old format, he told us this when he asked us to read books to him.In the language of the Earth they might define it as a dyslexia of reading. To me it was one of the Lindigra prices I doubted was worth paying. Others said it was an ideal situation. “The Stolen" Stoley, for example, said that we as humans overestimate the reading and the holding of what is constructed as a cover, pages and letters, and there are those for whom it occupies the bulk of the apartment volume. 'Hebrew Book Week, which continues to exist and to succeed even in the digital age, proves that it is still difficult for people to part with this traditional form, even when there is seemingly a substitute, whether we read the books or not. The walls of houses, at least as long as we live in this form of human beings on Earth, will not be empty in places designated for bookcases.