You notice the most remarkable feature immediately: the small book is read turned a quarter turn. Thus the two pages form a rectangle on which a mass market paperback-sized page is comfortably shown. This design enables the reader to hold it in one hand and to easily put it away in a pocket or a handbag. The ideal format to take with you wherever you go.
In spite of the recent commotion around this Dutch innovation – rumours go that the concept was nicked from the original inventor; fact is it’s now being copied by several other parties – I haven’t encountered a lot of dwarsligger-readers in the wild yet.
So I’m quite thrilled when I see this lady reading one this morning. When she looks up, and smiles back at me, I ask her how she likes the Dwarsligger. She loves it, she tells me, everything about it. The size, the one page in front of you, plus, she tells me, she doesn’t mind the price of €12,95 per book. She considers the book a treat, and saves it for her train trips. In short, she’s the perfect Dwarsligger advert.
The most attractive part is the paper, she explains And she lets me touch the pages; the entire book is printed on this thin, bible-like Indian paper. A sturdy cardboard cover, strong enough to weather the multifold usage, holds the delicate content together. It’s in all a light, small and creative beauty.
As I hand the little book back to her, I feel the paper got to me.
I want one.
dwarsligger (from Dutch dwars – crossways, transverse; intractable, contrary and liggen to lie). A person unwilling to cooperate, who is stubbornly resistant to everything; obstructionist; troublemaker.