A Book Was Made to Read, Not to Write

The creation of ink on wood pulp bound by leather is one of the most fascinating developments of the human race. The hidden stories within these printed pages devise a whole new reality to anyone who dare venture into a whole, new eye-opening world. It builds up and up, taking the reader on and on, making sharp twists and climactic bends, never slowing down once. That is, unless the reader stops to write in his book. It just ends and the book has lost its journey of anticipation just like that. Is it truly worth it to ruin the appearance of a book and lose one’s train of thought to merely jot? It’s utterly foolish to do so because it distracts one from the story, ruins the physical book itself, and is quite awkward to do. Would it be sensible to stop everything only to write about feelings just so it will be made obvious for the next reader?

A good book engulfs the reader and transports him to a whole other dimension. A book not of one’s interest is painful to read and is impossible to enjoy. But, what takes away even more from the storyline are unnecessary, insignificant notes written on the pages of the book itself. Thinking and questioning is healthy and showcases a successful reader, but marking up one’s own book to prove a point is fruitless. It is well known that stopping to write is not “knowing that you’ve read actively” as Mortimer J. Alder, author of The Saturday Review of Literature, believes, because having margins filled with jots pulls the reader away and distracts him. Imagine reading and coming across arbitrary notes in corners which by instinct one must read. The distraction will turn a reader mad and is stress that it is not worth it.

The customer pays money to own a book of his own to enjoy. The crisply bound cover and tight, rigid pages that feel rough, yet smooth at the same time. It's almost a fantasy to experience this, but to ruin the moment by writing a “personal index on the front and back-end papers” is just abysmal; it takes away from the beauty of a book’s physical presence. What would be the point of reading a scribbled-on, smudged, dog-eared book that is too difficult to comprehend?

There are many different types of learners and ways of learning: speaking, doing, writing, touching, visualizing, etc. Some may need to reread a section to get the full understanding, while others read at a consistent pace in which they do not like to be disrupted. Writing notes, using a pencil, or taking any attention away from the story interrupts the reader’s focus. As Adler points out, “Reading, if it is active, is thinking, and thinking tends to express itself in words, spoken or written,” which is completely true as many enjoy to debate or discuss their books orally because this method expresses thoughts immediately. This proves that not all readers enjoy jotting notes while they read and it is the most impractical way of thinking.

Although there may be a few advantages to writing in the margins, the true form of the book is violated when one does so. These insignificant doodles distract from the book’s story, seem difficult to accomplish when it’s uncomfortable, and destroy a book’s form. Nothing is worth tarnishing one’s very own gift that tells a story of a new world. Nothing at all.