For most of us, something like that is probably what comes to mind when we think of a book. Yet this definition, or any definition, leaves something to be desired.
If the pages are blank, is it still a book? What if the pages are utter nonsense, perhaps typed by one of those infinite number of monkeys?
Does a pamphlet become a book if it is given a more protective cover?
Does a writer's manuscript become a book when it is published or does it become a book if it is placed in a three-ring binder (a protective cover)?
If a novel is published first in a magazine, as so many Charles Dickens novels were, is it a book?
If we listen to a book on some kind of electronic media, can we still count it as a book? What if we read it on a Nook or a Kindle?
Any definition one can come up with can be either too restrictive or not restrictive enough. With a broad definition, as in the American Heritage Collegiate Dictionary, almost any of us can say we have written a book. Ever kept a diary? Ever put a term paper in a stiff cover? Congratulations, you are an author.
On the other hand, the definition can suggest that one of Dickens' serialized novels isn't really a book, at least not yet.
Emma Smith proposes an interesting definition in her book Portable Magic. She writes, "A book becomes a book in the hands of its readers, It is an interactive object. A book that is not handled and read is not really a book at all."
To me, that is utter nonsense. If she were correct, bookstores and libraries contain no books. Those paper objects do not become books until someone takes them home and reads them. Then, apparently, they cease to be books when put back on the shelf. That's like saying a chair isn't really a chair unless someone is sitting in it.
No thanks. I prefer the dictionary definition, as inadequate as it may be.
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