Ask
any introvert. Reading is probably our number one past time.
After all, it can be done alone and it's inwardly rewarding.
Most introverts love to read. Many get started early, learning
at home from their mother.
You
wouldn't think there could be anything controversial about
reading but I recently stumbled upon an issue which created
spirited, if not to say passionate, debate among the introverts
who participated in my Book Survey
Poll. The question that stirred up all the controversy?
"How do you feel about writing in books, dog earing,
,etc.?"
I
got reactions from some people who evidently would rather
die than "deface" a book. As one respondent put
it emphatically, "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!".
Another replied, "Ack! No!" and a third elaborated,
"Grrr, Never, never, never/"
Some
people referred to the sanctity of books and the "crime"
of defacing them. "I never write in books. It was instilled
in us to always respect and care for them," say some
while another proclaims, "Blasphemy! I treat books like
sacred objects, with great respect."
Some
respondents to my poll gave prescriptions of their own on
"how to do it": "no way, flat bookmarks only
please", "strongly dislike and violent. Seeing someone
else's notes is like someone talking to you when you are listening
to the author." And these little bits of helpful advice,
"It's all right to write in paperbacks or scholarly texts,
but it's better to keep one's books tidy." Or, "Writing
in books and underlining is ok if neat. Dog earing defaces."
Some
experts were glad to explain when it was ok and when it wasn't.
"never ever in a library book, I use to underline but
then I found that when I reread that book I would notice that
those things underlined had no relevance to my present state
of being and so now I journal and write the paragraph, page
and book in a separate journal. Then I have the best of both
worlds."
I
also heard from two bath tub readers. "I use my books.
I underline. I often read in the hot tub and I don't worry
if they get wet," says one. Another waxes downright eloquent,
"I absolutely write in my books. I get very familiar
with them. I write notes and comments to the author, put stars
and exclamation points, notes to myself. I turn the pages
down and also they usually get in the tub with me so they
are a little damp at times; swimming pools and sunlight. I
take my books with me everywhere. Naturally these are paperbacks.
That's what I love about paperbacks. I never go back and read
the things I've written but if I like something, I underline
it and read it over slowly for emphasis as I'm underlining.
It puts it in my mind permanently. I have a photographic memory.
I don't understand why there are "rules" against
this. I think it is the most natural way in the world to love
something, to put your hands on it, like bathing a baby. Never
someone else's though, of course!!"
As
a matter of fact, people have been writing in books from the
time of glosses in medieval manuscripts to the plethora of
personal annotation found in the margins and on the endpapers
of books novelist Graham Greene was reading, found upon his
death in 1991.
And
of course there is also the famous retort of Sylvia Plath
in her teenage diary. Next to presumably rhetorical question,
"What is more wonderful than to be a virgin?" she
later added, "being raped."
For
those with more than a passing interest in this scintillating
topic, Yale University Press has published a book called Marginalia,
the first survey devoted to the subject of writing in margins
(2001). In it, University of Toronto professor H. J. Jackson
unearths a multifarious collection of notes and comments people
have scrawled in books over the centuries.
In
it, for example, you will find Samuel Taylor Coleridge (S.T.C.)
referring to himself as "S.T.C. i.e. Sinful, tormented
Culprit," and Edward Gibbon (of Decline and Fall of
the Roman Empire) criticizing Herodotus' famous tale of
a drowning man being carried to safety by a dolphin, "Most
unphilosophical fable!" Gibbon wrote. "Since it
supposes the friendship of a man and a Sea-fish."
Based
on a study of thousands of books annotated by readers both
famous and obscure over the last three centuries, Jackson's
book "reveals the intensity of emotion that characterizes
the process of reading. For hundreds of years, readers have
talked to other people in the margins of their books--not
only to authors, but also to friends, lovers, and future generations."
[Sven Birkerts' review for Yale University Press]
Sensational
news of late are the margin notes of Sir Isaac Newton in over
30 of his personal Bibles being studied by expert Dr. Stephen
Snobelen. Snobelen says Newton's Bibles are "remarkable
artefacts to handle physically, because you can actually see
the dog-eared pages. You can see the soiling. You can see
this physical testimony of a lifetime. There are annotations
in the margins."
We
are somewhat concerned about the future of marginalia due
to the proliferation of books and articles on the internet.
We would suggest that you print out a copy of this article
and make some notes in the margin as to your feelings in the
matter.
Also
see Sir Isaac Newton and His Diamond
in the "Ruff"
