I remember those days in my middle school and high school English class. My teachers would scrutinize each one of our books to make sure we annotated each page, just as they had instructed us to. To a certain extent, annotating novels made sense: it made discussions much easier for me and helped me understand the novel more thoroughly by writing out my thoughts. Also, I always felt bad making the teacher upset.
I ended up carrying this habit with me into college. The page margins in the books I read throughout my first year were filled with tiny notes, some of which were unreadable because of my microscopic handwriting. But slowly, the habit of annotating died away. Annotating became an annoying task, particularly in places where I could not rest the book onto a table. You can imagine the struggle of trying to write properly on a train commute that refuses to stop shaking.
Eventually I would only annotate novels, seeing that my thoughts flowed more freely reading fiction. But now, I actually rarely annotate my books. This has left me to wonder about the purpose of annotating and consider whether those reasons make annotating an essential part of the reading experience.
Purposeful Reading I try not to let reading be a passive experience. From taking small pauses to jotting down quick notes, I am actively engaging with the text as I read. Annotating books not only serves the idea of purposeful reading, but I tend to understand books far better. Launching the flurry of my thoughts alongside the words of the author, I can create a tension within the margins that helps guide my journey through a book.
The Aesthetic of Books The idea that books hold a certain aesthetic value is a polarizing topic for many people I know. On the one hand, there are those who enjoy the pristine appearance of a new book while the other side of the debate prefers a more worn out look and feel, with corners of pages folded or annotations flooding the margins. I have never been able to place myself on either side of the argument. I end up appreciating both my books that look fresh off the printing press as well as those that look decades old from wear. Whichever side you find yourself supporting may impact your decision of whether or not to annotate your books.
Passing On Your Thoughts When I think about the reading, I always remind myself of the beauty of human storytelling. Specifically, in the way that we spread knowledge to others through writing, but also that as we continue to read books, we inherently continue the tradition of sharing our stories. From this view, I like to think of annotating books as an extension of our storytelling institution. As we write our own raw thoughts and emotions into a book, we leave our mark on the book, awaiting the next reader to pick up the book and explore both the author’s story and your own words.
Contrary to the forced habits instilled from my middle school days, I do not believe there is a right answer to the question of annotating. The reasons outlined above highlight my own thought process, but I do think that the experience of reading can be a very personal journey, one where we may need to find the reading environment that works best for ourselves.