A quick note: when I write “text” in this post, imagine simultaneously a book, a painting, or a sculpture.
With today’s technology, we can easily admire a beautiful painting through a computer screen, and even analyze it to a great degree; however, it still does not compare to looking at it in person. There is, first, a sense of distance from the subject. When looking online we know of course what we are looking at is no where near us; it could be anywhere in the world. Though this physical distance may afford the critical distance so important in textual analysis, it nonetheless provokes an emotional sense of detachment. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, when one views a text through the internet or computer, the text itself is not there. What we see is an image of the text; a visual copy. Rationally, how can you say you’ve seen something if the actual thing, the original, is not in front of you? Think of a Polaroid. No one goes around saying “Yes, I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower” after looking at a photograph of it in their hand. However, this causes more serious consequences: without the whole text in front of you, it is impossible to truly analyze it. Though you can see it, and use all the historic and theoretical context you can, you cannot engage the text with all senses. This information is relegated to a caption: The book is printed on animal skin, it feels like soft paper, it smells rotten. These senses, when actually experienced, enhance learning.
When I was in Paris I of course had to go see the Mona Lisa. However, upon approaching it, I found myself filled with disappointment and thinking that this painting that so many praise isn’t worth all this hype. Having learned about and analyzed the Mona Lisa in school, and not being very impressed with it then, I felt as though I knew everything about it already and that it was quite overrated. However, the more I looked at the painting up close, the more it started to feel real and the more I found myself appreciating it. Having been tempted to walk away from it after only initially catching a glimpse, I was glad I stayed a little bit longer to let it sink in. By viewing the image mainly online before seeing it, I definitely felt some detachment.
I agree that viewing things in the form of pictures or copies is not the same as viewing the original work itself. But I don’t think it is a bad thing that copies and pictures exist. I think that it is obviously necessary for pictures/copies to be taken and made in order to remember the experience. But also it is important to document things for those who are not as fortunate to see certain works in person. This can stretch further in relation to the above comment about the Mona Lisa. This well known piece of art is all over the internet; and I would be surprised if I ever met someone who had no idea what it was. This is the power of the internet; just about everyone has access to it. Although it can detract from the necessity of seeing things first hand, it can enhance your first hand experience by allowing you to be ready and already knowledgeable about whatever work you are viewing. Despite the disappointment of the Mona Lisa seeming so familiar at first glance, I’m sure knowing all that you did about the painting caused you to get even more out of the experience; you were probably able to notice every detail and not miss anything.
You could probably say that between viewing a photo/copy and seeing the actual thing comes down to a simple difference: Information or Experience. A copy simply provides information while the actual object provides an entire experience. So while copies are convenient for the needs of information gathering, the actual experience leaves an impression.