
Review: Kobo Arc Android tablet
Apps and books done right, eventually
As pocketable Android tablets gather momentum and e-reader manufacturers look to offer a more flexible platform, the twilight zone where both meet is certainly looking lively.
A criticism of Amazon’s Kindle Fire e-book-meets-Android offerings is the company’s imposition of a walled garden for installing apps: you have to download software for the gadget from Amazon's online store. It’s hardly in the spirit of the Android development, where openness was considered its raison d’être.
The rival Kobo Arc touchscreen e-reader - recently updated to Android Jelly Bean - takes a different approach, and unlike some earlier devices from the company, it allows unfettered access to the wide-open Google Play store of apps.

It might be packed with e-reading goodies, but the Kobo Arc is still an Android tablet at heart
You can understand why Amazon wouldn’t want you to shop elsewhere, and why Kobo took this line too, initially. But now, an open platform seems to be a gamble that Kobo thinks is worth taking with the Arc. Sure the unit is packed with some clever things that Kobo thinks e-reader owners want to do with these devices, but as you’re bound to wonder if it’ll run the Amazon Kindle Android app, I’ll answer that now. Yes, it does but oddly enough, after installation, the first two attempts to run it failed, third time lucky though.
Kobo describes the Arc as the "ultimate 7in Android tablet" so it has made up its mind what its potential punters are looking for. By flogging the entry-level 16GB model for £160 – the same price as a Nexus 7 – and its 32GB model for 30 quid more, it’s relying on its competitively priced bookstore and the Tapestries window dressing that’s unique to Kobo.
There's a 64GB model too, but no sign of it in the UK yet. The company also boasts the Arc features a tough glass screen and a durable, hard plastic body, so it’ll survive abuse in transit. That said it does have the trademark "quilted" design soft touch back to the device that comes off so other colours can adorn it instead. It also came apart slightly during a nonchalant drop-from-the-desk ruggedness test.

Bookstore and Free titles category
Firing up the Arc for the first time was one of those rather frustrating let’s-show-you-how-it-all-works experiences that I couldn’t seem to sidestep. I muttered random expletives to myself as I was invited to go through a list of books of different genres to ascertain my reading habits. There was not a non-fiction book among them, though. And because I let my other half have a play with the device and she started on Fifty Shades of Grey (which was among the preloaded titles), I’m now offered tripe in the "Kobo Recommended" rolodex of suggested ebooks that appears in the Reading area.
The Homescreen is kitted out with examples of Tapestries; these are widgets of sorts that organise material into categories – Reading, Entertainment, Browsing, Social – each giving some visual clues to their content. Tap on one and it opens up to fill the screen with Rolodex-style preview panes; navigation shortcuts to specific areas, such as Kobo Recommended and Top 50 lists; and related apps.
You can swipe to see more content and the persistent Discover strip sits at the bottom of the screen and changes according to the current Tapestry type.

Tapestries organised in the homescreen (left), Reading content revealed (right)
Once you get past the "WTF is this?" stage, Tapestries prove to be rather charming and useful, as you’re not stuck with the above categories: you can edit and add your own. This way you can build a rather handy estate of stuff from books to apps to website URLs. Kobo describes it as a way of "curating" material, and to extend this further, Kobo says you can have Tapestries within Tapestries, Russian matryoshka doll-style.
I wanted to try this out for myself: I wanted to create a custom rolodex of selected material in a new Tapestry, like the default Tapestries for books and YouTube videos but with album covers or photo collections. It wasn't explained in the otherwise helpful PDF manual how to create these, and I still have no idea how to do it.

Cover story: Alternative colour casings are available but under the surface there are no expansion slots
Populating Tapestries isn’t too well integrated, which I’d say has more to do with Android’s idiosyncrasies rather than a major fault of Kobo’s. In some areas, such as the web browser, you use the Pin icon to add pages. In other areas, the Share menu is called into action. And in other areas, such as the music player, there’s nothing at all for albums, individual tracks or even playlists. Setting up Tapestries for photos isn’t particularly well thought out either: it shows large preview images yet when you click on one, it doesn’t enlarge the chosen image, it opens the first one of the batch.
Next page: The undiscovered shelf
COMMENTS
Re: Kobo has already been where the smart shoppers have ended up.
@AC - 16:34
What makes you think my epubs are pirated? Have you heard of Gutenberg? Does the concept of scanning material you already own, OCRing it, and converting it to epub surprise you - and in what significant way is it different from ripping a CD (apart from the obvious 'it takes a lot of time and effort')? Are you aware that the Kobo desktop application - required to purchase ebooks - is not available for Linux?
I don't care about reading on multiple devices. I do care about DRM: I object to any technology which assumes I am a thief and will do my damnedest to avoid it. I object to any technology which prohibits my usage of that which I have purchased as I please and so I do not purchase DRM encumbered material. But I have several hundred epubs, and for each in copyright (and many older) I have a paper original, in the same way that for each of my .ogg or .mp3 files I have the original CD.
But I am neither thief nor pirate, and resent the implication. You bought a bookselling mechanism. I bought a book *reading* mechanism.
...the social reading and statistics actually make you want to stay with Kobo.
Surely you jest, sir?
Of all the things I want a reader to be, a device that tells the world what I'm reading and me what the world thinks of it is the last... reading is, was, and always should be a private activity, something to do on your own when you want to shut the world out. 'Social reading' is a contradiction in terms in my world.
Epub based is the reason I use Kobo - though I won't buy any book with DRM or which I cannot store and view on a local device *without* the necessity of wireless connection.
Re: Kobo has already been where the smart shoppers have ended up.
"You bought a bookselling mechanism. I bought a book *reading* mechanism."
Well said man! Cheers to that!
Re: "Reading" material, huh?
I'm fairly sure that they do that deliberately in the screenshots just to amuse us sharp-eyed readers...
Tapestries? Discoveries?
I am driven *mad* by tags...
Strikes me there's no need for anything more complex than an alphabetical series of books, one page (shelf, in the older 'glo') to an author... I want to see who I have on the device, and then I want to see the titles. I don't want to see 'adventure', 'crime', 'foreign authors', 'cheese development board', or 'science fiction' - particularly as there is so often a disagreement between different taggers as to which category a book should be in, which renders the whole concept somewhat tenuous, if not pointless.
Hierarchical reference is a concept probably older than libraries; it's worked well for centuries. But the last five or ten years have buggered the concept completely. I can't listen to a whole album in the order the artist intended; I can't see at a glance whether I have anything by a particular author. The whole world has gone mad in a pokey slidey pokey slidey interface that simply falls over if there are more than a couple of dozen items.
I have yet to see an ebook which can handle - without jumping through hoops - any significant number of books (i.e. four hundred to a thousand). I have certainly never seen the obvious 'autotag' button: tag by author.
Meh.
</rant>
