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By Meghan Leigh
As an avid reader of thrifted books, I’ve come to appreciate the scars and imperfections these volumes exhibit. Each manuscript has experienced a unique, storied life (pun intended). Dog-eared pages, cracks along the binding, peeling spines, notes in the margins, personalized inscriptions, stickers and stamps of ex-libris, etc. Every mark, a clue, connecting me to not only the narrative penned by the author, but also to those who have absorbed the tale before me.
This is especially true when considering the bookmarks left behind. I’ve become fascinated with what we use to hold our place – items nested with purpose or merely with convenience. I’ve recently begun a small collection of the oddities that fellow readers have deemed bookmarks.
Photographs
Photographs seem to be fairly common stowaways. There have been photos of family gatherings. A high school graduation photo from the early 2000s. And a celebratory picture of a cheerful kiddo on her first communion. Were these memories tucked away in the books for safe-keeping, only to be forgotten and passed along? I like to imagine the photos choosing to accompany the book on a grand adventure – two like souls, moments captured in time, forever young and forever traveling.
Randomness
Then there are the silly things that make me giggle when they inevitably fall from the book: a receipt for cat food and coffee. A coupon for 10% off your next personal waxing session. A handwritten recipe for homemade caramel corn. A bundle of pressed Ginko leaves. (If you like the idea of pressing leaves or flowers, check out this press.) Wimpod Pokémon card (it’s nature’s cleaner!). It’s the sporadic randomness that makes me smile.
The Deeply Moving
In juxtaposition to the light-hearted items above, there are the occasional scraps invoking empathy and emotion. Earlier this week, the universe saw fit to grace me with a deeply moving bookmark. Scrawled on personalized stationery: a poem, written by a soldier, sometime in the late 1980s:
Floating as if bound by Ethereal tendrils.
Walls Display themselves but do not Encroach.
The above – brick horizon Beckons my animation.
Spirits – no matter how I try – cannot spit my spirit to dormancy.
My Quandry is whether to self-sedate, or to scorch the vibrant, eutocias fuel.
And flare into pure gratification (final emptiness).
God, funnel my worth to an end appropriate.
In this case, the book itself was nothing of note. But the poetry turned bookmark? That held my attention. A quick search on the internet tells me our soldier is alive and well — married, living down south, and enjoying a long successful career. Just knowing he was able to rise past some of the demons relegated to this verse has given me a sense of peace.
If you’re interested in reading more from our soldiers, check out this book containing a collection of thoughts and poetry by Alexander R. Stewart, titled Unspoken Words.
What’s My Mark?
These experiences have made me wonder: what have I slipped inside a novel and unintentionally sent out into the world? I’m notorious for pressing 4-leaf clovers inside the nearest hardcover. Maybe I’ve blessed someone with a little unexpected good luck? (If you like the idea of tucking in a 4-leaf clover and sharing good luck, you can get pressed ones here.)
But Not a Single Actual Bookmark
In any case, I can tell you the one thing I’ve yet to find in a second-hand book this year: an actual bookmark. But I find myself drawn to a couple of these fun options.
Anyway, keep on reading & keep on tucking away those treasures, my friends! Sharing is caring 🙂
- Meg
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