I was so spoiled for my birthday this year. It came with one of those labels – a ‘milestone’ – and despite my protestations that we didn’t need to have big celebrations it still turned into a festival. There were a lot of flamingoes! There were also many expressions of love that demonstrated how much people I care about had thought about me. A travelling coffee maker. A restored portable writing slope with my initials cunningly inscribed in the design. A fleur-de-lys wax stamp to seal my handwritten letters. Old ink wells and nibs from the post office that make me wonder about what times were like when they were lying by the bench where you bought a stamp and addressed the letter by dipping nib in ink and scratching the name of the recipient onto the envelope. And this beautiful thing.
Can you believe that with all those books around me I have never had an ‘Ex Libris’ (it means from the library of) mark? I know! Mind you, I’ve always written my name inside the front cover of books I own, usually with the year I bought it. It started early when my parents and grandparents gifted me books for birthdays and Christmas. I love those ones. Inside it will say something like “Dear Melinda. Happy 8th Birthday. Love Nanny and Poppy.” Or “Merry Christmas 1984. Love Mum and Dad”.
We do love to label, don’t we? Sometimes it’s about claiming ownership (me and my books), sometimes it’s about sharing meaning or capturing memories, and sometimes it’s about keeping things categories and organised. On a recent hike a fellow Flamingo* talked about the thrill of heading home to organise her pantry with a newly bought labeller and even those of us who have chaotic kitchens felt a stab of envy at the idea. (Apparently it’s called pantry porn, it’s a thing!).
It’s a contentious thing to do, marking your books. There are those who are firmly of the belief that you should never put your name in or mark a book in any way. Perhaps these are the people who grew up with a very healthy regard for the sanctity of the book. Maybe they are likely to pass them onto to a secondhand seller who will get a higher price for the unmarked edition, or buyers of secondhand books who feel uncomfortable seeing evidence of prior ownership?
Is it that a book that has been branded by a stranger is somehow soiled goods? Others believe that a book with dog eared pages and notes in the margins and inscriptions on the fly leaf are the valuable ones. They see these things as evidence of previous approval and value and proof that treasures have been found within the covers that they, too, may discover.
Labels are usually about ownership. I’ve labelled countless items of school uniforms over the years. I’ve scraped the end of pencils and written kids’ names on them and bought pre-made stickers and placed them over lunchboxes and drink bottles. (No, it didn’t stop any of them going missing but I felt satisfied I had done my part). When I was little my mum did this same thing only with a bandaid as the canvas for our names. Those things never came off.
I read Little Women nearly every year (anyone else???) and love it every time. To be specific, I read this volume and no other. When I open the cover and see that my beloved Nan also found this book precious she’s just a bit closer again. Nan isn’t here to tell me about the moment she was given it. I don’t need to miss her as much because here is a way in which she is still nearby. We also have this special novel that is a link back to Ian’s grandmother and her schooling over 100 years ago. This label has become a holder of memories and when you’re coming home memories are a wonderful thing to have.
Recently I found myself trying to create a label when our business needed to develop a logo. When we went into it seemed like such a simple thing to do. We’re both creative minds, surely it will be a quick job? All of you out there who are graphic designers and artists and fellow logo-makers are laughing so hard right now your bellies ache. Ok, ok, you’re right, it wasn’t easy at all! It reminded me of the process Ian and I went through when trying to choose names for our babies. Lists and lists of possibilities, all of which brought with it the heavy responsibility of naming a future life we hadn’t even yet met. It’s the symbolism of the thing, that matters so intensely and is so hard to capture and we spent hours circling closer and closer to how we wanted to be represented in a tiny square on the page. In the end we took our vague concepts and ideas to someone who really knows how to tease them together into a logical shape who showed us it could be as simple as we imagined. Phew!
Don’t even start me on choosing titles for stories and books.
Lately I began adding a removable label inside my books. Name, year and a comment about the book itself, how I found it, what I took from it. A message to a future reader even if it is me on a second trip inside the covers. But, seriously, removable? What sort of commitment is that? That’s not inhabiting a book, as Brene Brown would teach you. If nothing else this last year has been about coming home to a wee bit of honesty and ownership and a removable label does not scream either of those things.
And so it is with a thrill of pleasure and of ownership that I take out my gorgeous new stamp, press it into the inkpad and rest it onto the inside cover of my books. They have become a part of me and now I am part of them. I hope that when others rifle through our shelves and select a novel to wile away a few hours the sight of my name on the inside cover carries a comforting recommendation to read and enjoy. These days they are also likely to find a few pencilled notes inside, words and phrases underlined and sometimes an exclamation mark beside a particularly meaningful thought. I am more than happy to inhabit my books and it feels fantastic.
Do you have an ‘ex libris’ of your own? Book labels or brand? Share them below. Tell me the story of what it means to you. How did you come to choose it?
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It is a special and in my experience a rare moment when a gift so perfectly matches to recipient!
I love to dog ear my own books and have to very consciously remember not to do it to books that I borrow and I enjoy reading the handwriting in a secondhand book and wonder who the previous owner was. Enjoy your stamp 😊
Definitely a ‘hit’ with this one!
Love the dog eared ‘pre-loved’ book. And secret little notes left inside a borrowed one for future discovery…