New understanding of „Bibliography“

When I first heard the word “bibliography,” I honestly thought only about the list at the end of an essay you know, where you dump all the sources in MLA or Chicago style. That’s what I did in high school in Germany and it felt like the most boring part of writing. But after reading the Bibliographical Society of America’s page “What Is Bibliography?”, I realized that I had completely misunderstood the term.

The line that stuck with me was: “Bibliography examines the artifactual value of texts … and how they reflect the people and cultures that created, acquired, and exchanged them.” I had to pause on the word “artifactual.” It means that a book is not just words on paper, but also an artifact, like a piece of history you can hold. Thinking about it this way, even the small scratches, the kind of paper, or notes in the margins become part of the story.

The site gives the example of watermarks in old paper. I never thought about this before, but these tiny patterns can tell scholars where and when the paper was made. It’s like a hidden code inside the book. I find this so cool because it shows that books are physical witnesses of history. You don’t just read them you also “read” their material.

I also liked how the page made a difference between “bibliographic” and “bibliographical.” At first, I thought this was just English being confusing again. But now I see that “bibliographic” means data like author, date, publisher while “bibliographical” means the actual study of the object itself. It’s a small detail, but it helped me understand the field better.

For me, the big takeaway is that bibliography is not only about organizing sources. It’s about looking at books as objects that carry the marks of people, cultures, and histories. As a student who mostly reads PDFs on a laptop, I think it’s important to remember that the material side of texts matters too even if the “page” is just a screen.

Is that true?

When I read Borsuk’s line that printing “reframed the book as content rather than object its form a mere vessel for the information it contained,” (p.57) I felt both curious and uneasy. The word mere makes it sound like the physical book is almost worthless, just a container for words. But is that true? When I think about my own reading, I don’t see books as “mere vessels.” I always notice their form. A book’s cover, the texture of its pages, even its size makes a difference. A small paperback I can carry in my pocket feels different from a large hardcover I need two hands to hold. Doesn’t the way a book looks and feels affect how you read it?

On screens, though, every book looks the same. Kindle, Wattpad or any reading app makes text uniform, black words on a glowing background. In some ways, that’s convenient the story is all that matters. But sometimes I wonder, does this sameness flatten the reading experience? Do we lose something when every book feels identical?

Interestingly, digital reading has made me appreciate physical books more. I love seeing a shelf of colorful spines or picking up a book with unusual design choices. Publishers know this too they release special editions with decorative covers or unique layouts to remind us of what makes print special. Isn’t it funny that screens, which were supposed to replace books, have instead made us value their physical form even more?

So I come back to Borsuk’s phrase. Maybe in the early days of printing, the book was treated as a vessel. But today, I think it’s both vessel and object. Books carry words, yes, but they also shape our experience of those words through their form. They are not “mere” anything they are living companions that travel with us, change us, and remind us that reading is always more than just content.

Red Ink and Reading: From Papyrus to digital reading

When I read Amaranth Borsuk’s chapter about papyrus scrolls in The Book, one thing grabbed my attention. She explains that Egyptian scribes sometimes used red ink to mark important words or to show the start of new sections (p. 24). At first, this sounded like a small detail. I realized it says something big, that reading has never been simple. From the beginning, people have been finding ways to guide readers and shape how they move through a text.

This idea reminded me of how many people read today for example on Kindle. You can use the highlight tool to save favorite passages. On Wattpad, readers leave comments in the margins or highlight moments they love. These marks catch my eye and slow me down, just like the red ink did for readers thousands of years ago. In a way, digital highlights are just a modern form of rubrication. Both show us where to stop, notice, and reflect.

I also found it interesting that the scroll itself shaped this practice. Papyrus scrolls didn’t have page numbers, chapters or covers. They were long, rolled-up sheets that snapped closed and had to be unrolled with both hands. That sounds clumsy compared to flipping pages in a book or even scrolling on a phone. But scribes came up with smart solutions, color red ink, headings, and marks that broke up the text. These tools made the scroll easier to use. They also turned it into more than just a place to store words, they made it an early kind of reading technology, or what Borsuk calls an “interface.”

Thinking about this makes me realize that reading has always been interactive. We often act like digital reading is brand new because of features like hyperlinks or highlights. But Borsuk’s passage shows that people were doing similar things long ago. Readers have always needed help moving through text and scribes have always given it to them.

For me, this is new knowledge I gained. It means that today’s digital reading is not the end of books but part of a much longer story. Just as Egyptians added red ink to guide readers, we use screens, colors, and comments to shape our reading now. The tools look different, but the habit is the same. Reading has always been about more than words it’s about how we mark, highlight, and share meaning.

Week 3: The Codex as “Endlessly New”

When I was reading Jessica Pressman’s essay, one phrase jumped out at me: books, she says, can be seen as “a medium of endless newness.” At first, that sounded strange to me. I usually think of books as old-fashioned and timeless object compared to phones, laptops, and tablets. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized she’s right, books can still surprise us and even feel new again. Pressman talks about “bookishness,” which is when books become more than just something to read. They turn into objects we admire, even treasure. She mentions things like “die-cut pages” and “collage, color, and design.” I imagine books that have holes cut into the paper, layered textures, or unusual layouts. They almost feel alive. It’s not just about the story inside but about how the book looks and feels in your hands. I’ve had that experience myself when I’ve picked up a book with beautiful illustrations or unusual formatting. I found myself slowing down and paying attention, not just to the words, but to the object itself. I felt also more curios and ambitious to read the book.  This made me think about the relationship between books and screens. I thought immediately about Wattpad as a platform and kindle book reader. Bolter and Grusin, whom Pressman also mentions, say that old and new media shape each other. I see this happening with books today. Because we spend so much time on screens, the physical book has started to highlight what makes it different. A screen is smooth and comfortable to carry but a book can be textured, colorful or oddly shaped. In a way, digital media has made us notice the beauty and aesthetic of books even more. That’s why I like the phrase “endless newness.” It makes me see books not as outdated but as flexible, always finding a way to stay relevant and timeless I would say. I used to worry that reading on screens would replace books completely but now I think the opposite might be true: screens have reminded us of what makes books special.

For me, this is comforting. Books have always been important in my life and I like the idea that they aren’t going anywhere. They may change their look, their form, or the way we think about them, but they’ll keep renewing themselves. Maybe that’s what makes the codex truly timeless it never stops finding ways to be new.

Introduction: A Cup of Coffee & a New Chapter – Tanja Daraghai☕✨

I’m Tanja, 24 years old. I was born and raised in Germany, but my roots are in the autonomous region of Kurdistan in northern Iraq. My parents immigrated in the 90s to Germany. Growing up between two cultures has shaped who I am and made me curious about the world and the different ways people live their lives.

Right now, I’m in my last semester of my bachelor’s degree in teaching education. It feels a bit surreal to be so close to finishing but I’m excited for what’s next. Teaching has always been something that inspires me and I can’t wait to start building my own path as a teacher.

Outside of studying, I love spending time with my girls whether it’s going out, exploring new places, or just laughing until our stomachs hurt. One of my favorite things is discovering new cafés, especially because I’m a huge coffee lover. There’s just something about trying out a cozy spot with a good Flat white that makes me so happy.

I’m also really passionate about experiencing different cultures. Whether through travel, food, music or just meeting new people, I love seeing how diverse the world is and learning from it.