Google Print

Digitising books is suddenly big news – as if everyone realised that a train loaded with cash is about to pull out of the station and the chance to coin cash is dwindling. Google were first to act as discussed previously and got the good name with Google Print. They set themselves the Herculean task of planning to scan millions of books, a task that was planned to take ten years, moving them from first to last place. Google are also being hampered by a huge class action from US authors. They have deflected attention from this by launching their first works, the most notable of which are by (out of copyright) Henry James. Microsoft have now announced their scheme to scan the entire British library, making it available to all for free. Book publishers, as predicted here last month, have announced that they will now publish their own catalogues with MacMillan and Random House leading the way. Amazon seem to be the first to announce an intention to charge for access to books that they will be available through their site, something that seems an inevitability if we look at how the downloading of music has developed over the last decade. They are starting with Amazon Pages which allows the user to download the part of the book they want. Village thinks it might have been wiser to get us used to the idea of downloading books before they tell us how much it will cost.

The BBC had a recent discussion on how to channel the goodwill towards reading generated by the Harry Potter series. How do you sustain the children who discovered reading through JK Rowling but show little enthusiasm for other books? There seems to be a huge gap between what parents deem suitable and their offspring reaching for the Ross O'Carroll Kelly books. Village has the solution… bring back censorship and banning books. Women who haven't read in years still ring Liveline to talk of the illicit thrill gained from The Country Girls. Too much has evolved for this generation to hope the classics of their parent's days will seem relevant. Sure, getting books banned in the new laissez-faire Ireland will be a tough sell to the liberals, but look at how it works in the States. A Catcher in the Rye and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer prolong their shelf life each year when schools remove them from libraries in a flurry of publicity. Scholastic, Harry Potter's publishers must rub their hands in glee when another right-wing collective denounces their glamorising of witchcraft. The American Library Association has an annual Banned Books Week, this year championing Maya Angelou's I Know Why the Caged Birds Sings (promotes homosexuality) and John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men (racism and sexism). If we want to keep the next generation reading, we may have to play a little smarter, making books look at little edgier to make them desirable. It works for Hiphop and Playstation games.

Village was saddened to hear rumours of Muhammad Ali's worsening health on Talksport last week but enthused to hear from publishers Taschen about their Ali book. Ali: Greatest of All Time. A photographic collection of Ali's life, it is big, heavy, limited and expensive – 800 pages, 30 kg, resplendent with rare photos. It costs $10,000 for a signed limited edition copy and $3,000 for the standard version. It will also become one of the rarest books in history, fitting considering its subject and its title. Published early in 2004, Taschen have been endeavouring to have nearly 200 of those pictured with Ali (associates, opponents, statesmen) sign the book, turning it into an inimitable irreplaceable memorial to Ali. Tracking signatures across the world from Nelson Mandela to Will Smith, Jimmy Carter to George Foreman must be the ultimate logistical nightmare. Each sheet needs to be folded in a manner which means it will have passed through over ten very famous hands. Quite a prize to entrust to the post. When complete the book will go under the hammer to raise funds for the Muhammad Ali foundation which raises money for research into Parkinsons disease.

Digging further into the delay in the awarding of the 2005 Nobel Prize for Literature to Harold Pinter instead of Turkish author Orhan Pamuk after an unexplained seven day delay last month brings us no closer to the truth. Those Swedes can sure batten down the hatches and keep a secret. Well, all of them except Knut Ahnlund, octogenarian Swedish author who resigned from the Academy in disgust at the awarding of the 2004 prize to Elfrede Jelinek. He cited the Austrian's work as "unenjoyable violent pornography" (now watch the teenagers fight to read that…). Ahnlund, in a most unbecoming outburst still waited a full year to blow his top – waited until the week the Academy was due to award this year's prize in fact. Did he really let his rage simmer for twelve months or was he reacting to a more modern catalyst like a battle over the 2005 award? Was this part of the reason for the delay and unexpected coronation of Pinter? He rode away into the sunset, sniping that only a tiny proportion had even read Jelinek's work. So the Nobel committee are like all other judges then? Orhan Pamuk still awaits trial for treason in Turkey in the middle of next month.