The notes already in the margins

Text A: an original contemporary personal-essay-style practice extract.

I bought the novel from a second-hand stall before a long train journey. When I opened it, someone had already travelled through it with a pencil. There were arrows beside certain sentences, question marks in the margins and, halfway down one page, the instruction, ‘ask Mum’. At first, I felt that a stranger had entered the book before I had been properly introduced.

Gradually, the marks became less like interruptions and more like company. The previous reader had written ‘not convincing’ beside a scene I admired, so I read it again to discover why I disagreed. Elsewhere, a faint line stopped beneath precisely the sentence that made me close the book for a moment. I knew nothing about this person, yet I could see where the story had delayed, surprised or irritated them. Their reactions did not decide mine; they made mine more deliberate.

I would not write in a library book or one borrowed from a friend. In books that belong to me, however, I now add dates, brief responses and an occasional disagreement, lightly enough to leave room for somebody else. A clean page promises a private encounter. A marked one can offer a conversation across time. I had paid for one novel, but its margins allowed me to meet two readers: the person who came before me and the person I became while answering them.

Text B: an original contemporary consumer-column-style practice extract.

The second-hand book was described as being in good condition, which was true if condition meant that every page remained attached. Nearly every chapter also contained another reader’s underlining, stars and conclusions. Before I had reached an important moment, a thick pencil line announced it. An exclamation mark waited beside a surprise I had not yet experienced. It felt as though somebody had pushed an answer sheet across the table before I had attempted the questions.

I tried to ignore the marks, but my eyes reached them before the printed sentences. Several passages were labelled ‘important’, although the discussion in my evening class concentrated on completely different sections. Erasing the pencil left grey smudges and turned somebody else’s certainty into a mess of my own making. Eventually, I bought an unmarked copy and passed the first one to a charity shop, this time with a note clearly describing what was inside.

Annotation may be valuable to the person doing it. A margin can hold the scaffolding of a reader’s thinking: reminders, objections and connections that would otherwise disappear. That does not make those marks a universal map for whoever opens the book next. Sellers should disclose extensive annotation, just as they disclose a torn cover or missing page. A previous reader may have finished their encounter with a book, but the next reader still deserves a first meeting.

Compare the writers’ ideas and perspectives on finding another reader’s annotations in a second-hand book, and how these are presented. Support your comparisons with detailed references to both texts.