diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'how to mark a book.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | how to mark a book.txt | 185 |
1 files changed, 185 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/how to mark a book.txt b/how to mark a book.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eae7807 --- /dev/null +++ b/how to mark a book.txt @@ -0,0 +1,185 @@ +source: http://www.tnellen.com/cybereng/adler.html + + How to Mark a Book + + By Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D. + + from The Radical Academy + + +You know you have to read "between the lines" to get the most out of anything. I +want to persuade you to do something equally important in the course of your +reading. I want to persuade you to write between the lines. Unless you do, you +are not likely to do the most efficient kind of reading. + +I contend, quite bluntly, that marking up a book is not an act of mutilation but +of love. You shouldn't mark up a book which isn't yours. + +Librarians (or your friends) who lend you books expect you to keep them clean, +and you should. If you decide that I am right about the usefulness of marking +books, you will have to buy them. Most of the world's great books are available +today, in reprint editions. + +There are two ways in which one can own a book. The first is the property right +you establish by paying for it, just as you pay for clothes and furniture. But +this act of purchase is only the prelude to possession. Full ownership comes +only when you have made it a part of yourself, and the best way to make yourself +a part of it is by writing in it. An illustration may make the point clear. You +buy a beefsteak and transfer it from the butcher's icebox to your own. But you +do not own the beefsteak in the most important sense until you consume it and +get it into your bloodstream. I am arguing that books, too, must be absorbed in +your blood stream to do you any good. + +Confusion about what it means to "own" a book leads people to a false reverence +for paper, binding, and type -- a respect for the physical thing -- the craft of +the printer rather than the genius of the author. They forget that it is +possible for a man to acquire the idea, to possess the beauty, which a great +book contains, without staking his claim by pasting his bookplate inside the +cover. Having a fine library doesn't prove that its owner has a mind enriched by +books; it proves nothing more than that he, his father, or his wife, was rich +enough to buy them. + +There are three kinds of book owners. The first has all the standard sets and +best sellers -- unread, untouched. (This deluded individual owns woodpulp and +ink, not books.) The second has a great many books -- a few of them read +through, most of them dipped into, but all of them as clean and shiny as the day +they were bought. (This person would probably like to make books his own, but is +restrained by a false respect for their physical appearance.) The third has a +few books or many -- every one of them dog-eared and dilapidated, shaken and +loosened by continual use, marked and scribbled in from front to back. (This man +owns books.) + +Is it false respect, you may ask, to preserve intact and unblemished a +beautifully printed book, an elegantly bound edition? Of course not. I'd no more +scribble all over a first edition of 'Paradise Lost' than I'd give my baby a set +of crayons and an original Rembrandt. I wouldn't mark up a painting or a statue. +Its soul, so to speak, is inseparable from its body. And the beauty of a rare +edition or of a richly manufactured volume is like that of a painting or a +statue. + +But the soul of a book "can" be separate from its body. A book is more like the +score of a piece of music than it is like a painting. No great musician confuses +a symphony with the printed sheets of music. Arturo Toscanini reveres Brahms, +but Toscanini's score of the G minor Symphony is so thoroughly marked up that no +one but the maestro himself can read it. The reason why a great conductor makes +notations on his musical scores -- marks them up again and again each time he +returns to study them--is the reason why you should mark your books. If your +respect for magnificent binding or typography gets in the way, buy yourself a +cheap edition and pay your respects to the author. + +Why is marking up a book indispensable to reading? First, it keeps you awake. +(And I don't mean merely conscious; I mean awake.) In the second place; reading, +if it is active, is thinking, and thinking tends to express itself in words, +spoken or written. The marked book is usually the thought-through book. Finally, +writing helps you remember the thoughts you had, or the thoughts the author +expressed. Let me develop these three points. + +If reading is to accomplish anything more than passing time, it must be active. +You can't let your eyes glide across the lines of a book and come up with an +understanding of what you have read. Now an ordinary piece of light fiction, +like, say, "Gone With the Wind," doesn't require the most active kind of +reading. The books you read for pleasure can be read in a state of relaxation, +and nothing is lost. But a great book, rich in ideas and beauty, a book that +raises and tries to answer great fundamental questions, demands the most active +reading of which you are capable. You don't absorb the ideas of John Dewey the +way you absorb the crooning of Mr. Vallee. You have to reach for them. That you +cannot do while you're asleep. + +If, when you've finished reading a book, the pages are filled with your notes, +you know that you read actively. The most famous "active" reader of great books +I know is President Hutchins, of the University of Chicago. He also has the +hardest schedule of business activities of any man I know. He invariably reads +with a pencil, and sometimes, when he picks up a book and pencil in the evening, +he finds himself, instead of making intelligent notes, drawing what he calls +'caviar factories' on the margins. When that happens, he puts the book down. He +knows he's too tired to read, and he's just wasting time. + +But, you may ask, why is writing necessary? Well, the physical act of writing, +with your own hand, brings words and sentences more sharply before your mind and +preserves them better in your memory. To set down your reaction to important +words and sentences you have read, and the questions they have raised in your +mind, is to preserve those reactions and sharpen those questions. + +Even if you wrote on a scratch pad, and threw the paper away when you had +finished writing, your grasp of the book would be surer. But you don't have to +throw the paper away. The margins (top as bottom, and well as side), the +end-papers, the very space between the lines, are all available. They aren't +sacred. And, best of all, your marks and notes become an integral part of the +book and stay there forever. You can pick up the book the following week or +year, and there are all your points of agreement, disagreement, doubt, and +inquiry. It's like resuming an interrupted conversation with the advantage of +being able to pick up where you left off. + +And that is exactly what reading a book should be: a conversation between you +and the author. Presumably he knows more about the subject than you do; +naturally, you'll have the proper humility as you approach him. But don't let +anybody tell you that a reader is supposed to be solely on the receiving end. +Understanding is a two-way operation; learning doesn't consist in being an empty +receptacle. The learner has to question himself and question the teacher. He +even has to argue with the teacher, once he understands what the teacher is +saying. And marking a book is literally an expression of differences, or +agreements of opinion, with the author. + +There are all kinds of devices for marking a book intelligently and fruitfully. +Here's the way I do it: + + * Underlining (or highlighting): of major points, of important or forceful + statements. + * Vertical lines at the margin: to emphasize a statement already underlined. + * Star, asterisk, or other doo-dad at the margin: to be used sparingly, to + emphasize the ten or twenty most important statements in the book. (You may + want to fold the bottom comer of each page on which you use such marks. It + won't hurt the sturdy paper on which most modern books are printed, and you + will be able take the book off the shelf at any time and, by opening it at + the folded-corner page, refresh your recollection of the book.) + * Numbers in the margin: to indicate the sequence of points the author makes + in developing a single argument. + * Numbers of other pages in the margin: to indicate where else in the book the + author made points relevant to the point marked; to tie up the ideas in a + book, which, though they may be separated by many pages, belong together. + * Circling or highlighting of key words or phrases. + * Writing in the margin, or at the top or bottom of the page, for the sake of: + recording questions (and perhaps answers) which a passage raised in your + mind; reducing a complicated discussion to a simple statement; recording the + sequence of major points right through the books. I use the end-papers at + the back of the book to make a personal index of the author's points in the + order of their appearance. + +The front end-papers are to me the most important. Some people reserve them for +a fancy bookplate. I reserve them for fancy thinking. After I have finished +reading the book and making my personal index on the back end-papers, I turn to +the front and try to outline the book, not page by page or point by point (I've +already done that at the back), but as an integrated structure, with a basic +unity and an order of parts. This outline is, to me, the measure of my +understanding of the work. + +If you're a die-hard anti-book-marker, you may object that the margins, the +space between the lines, and the end-papers don't give you room enough. All +right. How about using a scratch pad slightly smaller than the page-size of the +book -- so that the edges of the sheets won't protrude? Make your index, +outlines and even your notes on the pad, and then insert these sheets +permanently inside the front and back covers of the book. + +Or, you may say that this business of marking books is going to slow up your +reading. It probably will. That's one of the reasons for doing it. Most of us +have been taken in by the notion that speed of reading is a measure of our +intelligence. There is no such thing as the right speed for intelligent reading. +Some things should be read quickly and effortlessly and some should be read +slowly and even laboriously. The sign of intelligence in reading is the ability +to read different things differently according to their worth. In the case of +good books, the point is not to see how many of them you can get through, but +rather how many can get through you -- how many you can make your own. A few +friends are better than a thousand acquaintances. If this be your aim, as it +should be, you will not be impatient if it takes more time and effort to read a +great book than it does a newspaper. + +You may have one final objection to marking books. You can't lend them to your +friends because nobody else can read them without being distracted by your +notes. Furthermore, you won't want to lend them because a marked copy is kind of +an intellectual diary, and lending it is almost like giving your mind away. + +If your friend wishes to read your Plutarch's Lives, Shakespeare, or The +Federalist Papers, tell him gently but firmly, to buy a copy. You will lend him +your car or your coat -- but your books are as much a part of you as your head +or your heart. + |