“Ceci tuera cela,” the cathedral will be “killed” by the book, states Frollo in the novel aptly titled after that cathedral, Notre Dame de Paris. Were Hugo’s character to exist in the twenty-first century, a similar sentiment might have emerged. However, this time, the object of transformation would be the book itself, either supplanted or eradicated by computers. Historically viewed, this represents the inexorable consequence of the relentless march of progress—a steady procession characterized by successive substitutions, yielding escalating degrees of advancement and abstraction. Nevertheless, the advent of technological and scientific breakthroughs, such as quantum mechanics and digital technology, has cast doubt upon this linear and objective narrative, demanding a shift, if not a return, to less “evolutionary” modes of thinking. The digital is inherently digitable, implying a state where nothing securely settles in a stratified progression; rather, all aspects remain perpetually receptive to novel philologies. Can we look back at the cathedral, the book, and the computer not as competitors in the race of progress but as kindred entities, as architectonic instruments, catering to their distinct realm while sharing a transcendent quality? Within this framework, it becomes possible to re-think how to conceive of writing and of the book within and beyond the limits of language and of logos, and towards what we might address as an “epos of the digitable.”