Bookmarks & Dog Ears
Clicking the cap back onto my pen, I reach up and fold the top corner of the page as I close the book. I think nothing of the countless times I have dog-eared a page to save a spot, underlined a poignant quote, or noted an observation in the margins of a page.
Yes. I am one of those readers who prefers dog-eared pages and highlighted passages. While a major reason for the formation of this habit was my tendency to lose physical bookmarks, I have always found comfort in returning to a book with folded pages marking my progress through a story. Where corners are bent every few pages, I am reminded of a monologue that put me to sleep. Whereas folds that are few and far in between, remind me of the gripping tale that warded off sleepy dreams and sent me on a harrowing adventure into the early morning hours.
When confronted by readers who appallingly behold my bent and battered novels (who we’ll affectionately call “Bookmarkers”), I confidently make my case of finding beauty in the markings that preserve my reading journey.
I have often pushed aside those opposing voices without giving them much of a second thought.
Common Bookmarker reactions to the folded corners of my novels tend to run along the lines of “why would you hurt that poor book” (as if it’s not already made of dead trees) or a defense for it’s utmost care simply to sit pretty on a shelf. I had not really heard any convincing arguments for a bookmark’s necessity and began to wonder if there was actually a valid case for their use in opposition to the trusty dog-ear.
Thus, being the prestigious, academic student I am, I turned to a Wikipedia article on the history of bookmarks and a Reddit debate between Bookmarkers and Dog-earers.
This research led me to discover that many Bookmarkers hold similar reasons for using bookmarks as Dog-earers have for creasing page corners…
To preserve the memory of a story.
When Guttenberg first introduced printed books to the world, they were rather rare, which meant their owners took extra care to preserve their condition. This careful care led to the creation of bookmarks, which were first made out of silk and ribbon and became a collectible item in the 19th century. As printed books became more common and less novel (pun entirely intended), care for their preservation declined. Thus, the use of bookmarks made way to the simple tucking of a page corner.
With the rarity of books no longer an issue, most readers now feel less of an inclination to preserve the structural integrity of a book. However, those who are devoted to the use of bookmarks soldier on.
According to Bookmarkers, they uphold an emphatic belief in the use of bookmarks for the same reasons early book owners did at the genesis of the print book industry. The book itself is a work of art, not just a vessel for the artful story it contains. Their desire to avoid “hurting the poor book” is their way of preserving the story for themselves and those who will read it after them.
This, I believe, is where Bookmarkers and Dog-earers find common ground. While Bookmarkers find significance in taking certain measures to preserve the concrete beauty of a story, Dog-earers find significance in what their marks upon a book preserve of the story. Both approaches are simply a way of preserving an experience with a story.
I am drawn to this realization that, while this matter is primarily relevant to the bookworms of the world, it is a notable example of the human tendency to preserve stories.
Whether it be using a bookmark to save a spot in a novel, capturing a photo with friends at the summit of a long hike, or filming a video of a concert performance, it is evident that we are beings who desire to preserve stories for ourselves to reminisce on days, months, and years later.
Although bookmarks are such a small, seemingly insignificant item, they represent a shared delight in preserving a moment, thought, or story; one that we will one day look back on and smile.
Originally published to a previous Blog in February 2020.