The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [340]
“How will the reader get these new features to work?” asked Lady Cavendish.
“There will be a preferences page inserted just after the frontispiece.”
“Touch sensitive?” I asked.
“No,” replied Libris excitedly, “read sensitive. Ultra words that know when they are being read. On the preferences page you can also select WordClot™, which adjusts the vocabulary to the reader—no more difficult words, or, if you like difficult words, you can increase the vocabulary complexity.”
There was silence as everyone took this in.
“But to get back to your point, Lady Cavendish, a lot of people reject fiction because they find reading tedious and slow. At present levels the fastest throughput we can manage is about six words per second. With UltraWord™ we will have the technology to quadruple the uptake—something that will be very attractive to new readers—or slow ones.”
“Cards on the table and all that, Libris,” said Bradshaw in a loud voice. “Technology is all very well but unless we get it absolutely right, it could turn out to be a debacle of the highest order.”
“You didn’t like the ISBN positioning system, either, Commander,” replied Libris, “yet book navigation has never been easier.”
They stared at one another until a loud belch rent the air. It was Falstaff.
“I have lived,” he said, getting to his feet with a great deal of effort, “through much in my time; some good, some bad—I was witness to the great vowel shift and remember fond those better days when puns, fat people and foreigners were funny beyond all. I saw the novel rise and the epic poem fall, I remember when you could get blind drunk, eat yourself ill and still have change for a whore out of sixpence. I remember when water would kill you and spirits would save you; I remember—”
“Is there a point to all this?” asked Libris testily.
“Ah!” replied Falstaff, trying to figure out where he was going with all this. “Oh, yes. I was there for the much heralded Version-4 upgrade. ‘Change the way we read forever,’ quoth the Council of Genres. And what happened? The Deep Text Crash of 1842. Almost everything by Euripedes, Aeschylus and Sophocles gone forever—and we created grammasites.”
“It was never proven that Version 4 created the grammasites, Sir John—”
“Come, come, Libris, have you dried your brain? I was there. I saw it. I know.”
Libris put up his hands. “I didn’t come here to argue, Sir John—I just want to stick to the facts. Anyhow, Ultra Word™ is incompatible with grammasites. Text will be locked—they’ll have nothing to feed on.”
“You hope, sir.”
“We know,” replied Libris firmly, adding more slowly, “Listen, Version-4 was a big mistake, we freely admit that—which is why we have taken so long to rigorously test UltraWord™. It is no small boast that we call it ‘the ultimate reading experience.’ ” He paused for a moment. “It’s here to stay, ladies and gentlemen—so get used to it.”
He expected another attack from Falstaff, but King Hal’s old friend had sat down and was shaking his head sadly. No one else added anything.
Libris took a step back and looked pointedly at the Bellman, who tingled his bell.
“Well, thank you all for listening to WordMaster Libris’s presentation, and I would like to thank him for coming here today to tell us all about it.”
The Bellman started to clap his hands and we joined in—with the notable exceptions of Falstaff and Bradshaw.
“Presentation booklets will be available shortly,” said the Bellman, who had suddenly begun to fidget, “individual assignments will be given out in ten minutes. And remember, let’s be careful out there. That’s it. Session