Last week, on a quiet evening, I discovered a small, bright scratch on the screen of my beloved reading companion Touchy, an electronic delight of the Kindle Paperwhite variety, for I categorically refuse to consider it a mere inanimate object. This small, lightweight, nice-to-hold electronic delight with its beautifully illuminated screen has brought me much joy over the past two years, transporting me to many different worlds and into many different lives, and has given wings to my thoughts and stirred in me most agreeable emotions.
Now a little scratch may not seem like much to you, but to me, an obsessive-compulsive perfectionist who takes great care of all his belongings and who never breaks, damages, or drops things, and who still has most of his childhood toys and even a seven-year-old pair of sneakers which he still wears with pride, this scratch was comparable to a lesion on the brain. Especially since Touchy makes it easy for me to read classics in the public domain whose purchase and shipment from abroad to Romania would not only require a hefty investment, but also the martyrdom of countless trees.
How could it have happened? I blamed myself for being careless. But then I could not remember for the life of me ever scratching it. Nor did I carry it on me recently. Almighty Google soon clarified the matter – the scratch was just a technical flaw of the screen, something that had just suddenly happened to other people.
My conscience was somewhat pacified. But still, could I continue to read on it Montaigne and Maupassant and Rumi and Shakespeare and the rest of the classical lot with that bright scratch on the screen? I tried. My eyes kept lingering on the scratch though, dwelling upon the imperfection and vulnerability of our material existence, while the meaning of the words on the screen dissolved into profound indifference. I felt miserable, so much so that I decided to purchase a replacement right away. Amazon was contacted and, the item being out of warranty, they offered me a discount on a new purchase. But it so happened that I could not decide which model to buy, so I had to postpone the purchase to the next day.
And then something interesting happened. That night I picked up the wounded Touchy and attempted to read on it again. The scratch greatly distracted me, and I kept repeating to myself that all hope was lost, that Touchy’s lifetime has come to an end. But guess what? The more time I spent with it, tolerating its imperfection, the less grave its flaw seemed. Before long, I surprised myself saying, ‘Just a tiny scratch!’ Soon the scratch stopped being a sore to the eye, and I began to feel that the lesion on my brain was slowly healing too.
By the following day the scratch felt more like a beauty spot, a rugged one admittedly, but a distinguishing feature that made Touchy ‘more’ mine. Now I read on Touchy more than before and wouldn’t change it even if they offered me a replacement for free.
‘There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.’ – Leonard Cohen
I’m sure that you too have or will have at one point something dear to you, something electronic or maybe something old or even something of flesh and bone, a friend, or a lover even, something scratched or cracked or damaged in some way, something flawed. Maybe you shouldn’t try to fix it if it’s not altogether broken, if it still ‘works’. And think twice, thrice, even before replacing it. We need scratches, we need cracks, we need flaws. They may upset the eye, they may annoy us, but if we look beyond appearances, then these imperfections can help us understand the value that the thing (or him or her) has for us, and appreciate it more.
18 thoughts on “Reflections On a Screen Scratch Drama (Or There Is a Crack In Everything. That’s How the Light Gets In.)”
I’m surrounded by scratches. I view my scarred body the same way. I’m used to them, now.
Have you considered a screen protector? It’s a lightweight plastic shield.
I shall, but the damage has already been done. 🙂
I have the same problem with my phone, there are little dents on each corner, but it doesn’t bother me as much. I like to see it now as ‘having a life’. And for all the more scratches I get, more stories can be told. 🙂
Already ‘injured’ it, have you? Too much social media, girl, too much social media!
But consider getting that plastic shield 😉
That’s a great lesson that you’ve expressed,
via an interesting personal tale of disappointment, self-recrimination, understanding, angst, forced patience, and unintended acceptance.
Nice summary of my thoughts, Randy.
I thought of this same lyric when I notice a tiny little fracture in the screen on my phone, though I convinced myself that’s how the light gets out.
Well, you can look at it that way too. 😛
I’m with David.
I like this so much, and I’m not even sure why! As a completely dysfunctional being who has no hope of even finding a Kindle once I have put it down, let alone preserving it virgo intacta, as it were, perhaps it gives me hope. Anyway, thank you. I will look upon all my lesions and star-cracks with optimism from here on.
Star-cracks?! I like the notion of that.
Sometimes you can fix “things”, and it may be worth it, depending on how extreme the effects of the flaws are on your life and living. Sometimes the breaks in people close to you are just so disturbing, that you have to try to fix them, or you’re forced to discard them… An awful choice.
I once scratched my mind – things have been strange ever since.
May i ask, is the Kindle doing fine? I’ve had mine for about six months and i have the exact same problem right now. I was wondering if it’ll stand strong for a long time since i won’t be able to replace it in near future.
A miraculous thing happened — a month or two after the said incident, the mysterious crack disappeared. I don’t know whether it was a software upgrade or something else that fixed it. So long as you don’t drop your Kindle into any cauldron, it will be fine.
I have many cracks in my new house. Some of the cracks are are letting water in. I am worried about this. At least my invisible gift from you won’t get damaged. That is one of the great advantages of invisible gifts. They are completely waterproof.