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.

Our Literal Definition of a Book

As seen in our first special collection workshop, it can be challenging to categorize what a book is. A few people in class even expressed that they feel they have a too literal definition of the book, and it stops them from accepting that books come in many forms. This phenomenon stems from our learned behaviors and what we grew up seeing. We all know what a book looks like and how we use it, but reading Amaranth Borsuk’s book, The Book, is changing all of our learned notions of what a book is and how we read it. For instance, “Our own codex book has been normalized to such a degree that we question the ‘bookness’ of anything that challenges our expected reading experience, with little regard for the fact that reading in one direction rather than another, scanning text silently, and putting a title and an author’s name on a book cover are all learned behaviors (Borsuk, 18).” This quote describes that we have been taught to think that our reading behaviors are the right and only way to read, which is not true. Borsuk gives us a well-needed history lesson on the fact that reading used to be a social activity where people would read challenging works together, out loud, to create discussion. Whereas in today’s world, reading is more often than not a solo endeavor, where a singular person seeks knowledge, not a group. Just like how reading used to be a group activity, it used to come in all shapes in sizes, like the tablet, the papyrus scroll, and then the book we all know today. At the end of the day, Bosuk argues that there was an evolution that brought us the book as we know it today, thus arguing that all these forms can be considered books.

Books Don’t Die

The chapter from the book “The Book” by Amaranth Borsuk is a adequate introduction to understanding books as objects. I was particularly struck by the realization that book forms do not disappear completely in history. This thought could also be connected to our discussion in class: „Fear of new media“. Borsuk argues that “Different technologies of the book exist side by side throughout its history: tablet and scroll, scroll and codex, manuscript and print, paperback and e-book”. Clay tablets, papyrus scrolls, books and hypertexts coexist for centuries and do not simply disappear. Borsuk emphasizes that the development of these forms should not be seen as a linear sequence. The new does not immediately replace the old. They complement each other.

Their coexistence shows that media change is much more complex than one might think. I find this idea particularly interesting. There is obviously a lot of discussion about whether digital media means the “end of the book”. However, Borsuk criticizes that question and emphasizes the coexistence and diverse functions between print and digital. But if no form is replaced, does coexistence mean that no form is ever definitive? According to this argument, the “true book” or the “true form” would not even exist. It is merely a matter of transporting knowledge and stories, which works in different ways. It is therefore a question of generations and individual needs as to which medium is preferred. Occasionally, I read a paperback on a hammock, an e-book on the train or bus. 

The e-book, on the other hand, which is often seen as a threat to the printed book, could be seen as part of a long history of the coexistence of individual media. Instead of splitting these different forms off from each other, we should see them as complementary media. Each form has its strengths. While the printed book convinces through its materiality, haptics and durability, the e-book is mobile, easily accessible and flexible. Both forms help to preserve knowledge and make it accessible. 

Borsuk’s chapter thus shows that the book has evolved. Each new form expands, but never completely erases. The keyword here is diversity. Dr. Pressman stressed the fear of new media in class. I somehow cannot understand this “fear“, because instead of seeing the emerge of new media as a linear process we should see it as a circular one. This whole idea of remediation is really important and an advantage for our acquisition of knowledge.

The Broadview Introduction to Book History 

After reading the introduction to this text I was very intrigued with the discussion of the different types of reader, and seeing how I felt that I resonated with both types. “Immersive reading might mean that you are incapable of stopping to add a note, and even that you are able to read without being distracted by your environment” versus “Hyper-reading includes searching, filtering, skimming, and hyper-reading all the ways in which we might read a newspaper, magazine or website” (pages 7&8). Hyper-reading versus immersive reading are two types of reading that I think I fluctuate between. Sometimes I hyper-read when I am reading an article or text for class that is super long, or sometimes I will immersive read it if I need to fully understand and think about the text. It also depends if I am reading for a class or because I want to, sometimes I want to get through something fast and I will just hyper-read it. When thinking about these two different types of reading- that I had never heard about before- I realized how much I really use these types of reading in everyday life. That was super interesting to read about and then apply to my life, as I think it’ll help me better fluctuate the two when I need to the most.

That was not the only concept that intrigued me in this text, but also the general conversation about what makes someone a good or valuable reader. “The history of reading also raises questions about the nature or quality of attention itself” (page 6). We have sort of talked about this idea in this class, but I have also talked about it in my other classes as well. I find it interesting how some people think that someone can be “good” at reading. I do not think there is a “good” way to read, reading is good in general. I do not think one type of reading is more valuable than the other- like immersive versus hyper-reading- as both are valuable just in different situations. I think all genres are valuable as well, and just because someone might not think its valuable doesn’t mean it isn’t to someone else. This idea of superior reading or the “right” or “good” way to read is mind-blowing to me, as I had never thought that there is a wrong or write way. The superior complex some people have when it comes to reading, like nonfiction book vs a romance book, Is funny to me. Why would reading one think make you “better” or “right.” I think you can find value in reading both, reading in general is mind stimulation. Overall, this text made me think more about what voluble reading is to me, which is everything.

Week 3: Romanticizing Old Media 

In « Old Media/New Media », the definition and use of new media being a new perspective of technology got me thinking about the fetishization and idealization of old media because of new media. It has been trends for multiple decades to romanticize old media whether it be books, movies, music, or technology. As a generation, I’ve noticed this resurgence of old record keeping and collections. I’ve noticed that in the wave of new media and digital record keeping, there’s a distrust of whether it truly will forever keep everything accessible. Yes, things will always be on the internet or main frame, but it’s the question of whether or when it will stop being accessible to common people.
Over time, updates come and things need to be backed up or older versions won’t be able to be processed. While things stay forever, the digital format is growing so rapidly, websites and old applications even from ten years ago take much longer to load or don’t work. It happened to me when I tried playing a flash game that I played in middle school that no longer worked. Flash isn’t supported by my computer anymore and blockers won’t let me download it or bypass it.
Changing governments over time can also change the access to media. Government documents right now are being deleted from certain websites. While we can still access it as other forms or on other websites, going to the main place we usually find these documents and political information make it a step harder to find these things. This creates a form of censorship and real time evidence that historical information we thought we could have forever can be deleted or made harder to access in real time. In this era, we’re witnessing these things get harder to attain and we get worried.
I think this generation is scared of having their childhood memories be unattainable or unplayable because of slower systems not being able to work anymore or it being blocked from access. By fetishizing old media and using it like saving childhood books, 3D’s, or DvD’s, we are trying to save our childhood memories from being lost. As well as romanticizing old media like vinyls, we’re trying to create memories with things that can’t be taken away because it’s tangible, not digital.

Why Click on This?

If I were to count on my fingers how many times I’ve accepted a terms & conditions agreement with zero knowledge of what that actually implies, I’d have to be an octopus. Well, maybe you can’t call suckers fingers, which would also mean tentacles aren’t arms, but is that really relevant? Was anything in that introduction of value? I’d bet, and with regard to Michelle Levy and Tom Mole’s “Introduction” from The Broadview Introduction to Book History, only a couple of those words were retained by you, the reader. In this effect (if it worked), an element of “hyperreading” is displayed which prompts the question: Why do we value the information we retain?

Readers pick and choose largely on the degree of difficulty or enjoyment they find in the writing. I mention these two together because oftentimes, they coincide. In 2018, A study using PISA found across nearly half a million 15-year-olds, “higher reading enjoyment reduces the perceived difficulty (cognitive load) of a task, which in turn improves reading achievement.” As I had prematurely assumed, a book’s readability is not lowered by a dislike of difficulty, but a preference for something more understandable. There appears to be a sweet spot of challenge and joy. For example, if I were learning Spanish, or anything really, it would be preferable to read in relation to my skill set. But that much is clear: there’s a reason I’m not enrolled in a Spanish level 500 class.

This first sentence is a big claim preceding lines of evidence and reasoning supporting said claim. The second sentence’s relevance always tends to fall in the shadow of the first’s. This is somewhat understood, and probably plays into the primary effect, which is the idea that beginnings make a more vivid and substantial impression in our mind, rather than beginnings or ends. I looked into this while investigating the “F pattern” scanning method mentioned in the text. Though it’s also understood through conditioning. In education, we’re taught the CER method. And in practicing hyperreading, why read further if the claim doesn’t intrigue you?

There is an influence from the writer on the information retained, not solely the reader. This can come in many forms, like I mentioned first, a lengthy terms & agreements section that you “scroll through” meanwhile you’re just trying to play Subway Surfers. Though I made the connection in the very sentence detailing it in the introduction. It goes, “This kind of reading seems qualitatively different from what has been described as ‘hyperreading…’ all ways in which we might read a newspaper, magazine, or website (Hayles, Broadview Reader in Book History [hereafter BRBH] 491-510.” As I’m sure you just did, I skimmed over the citation without a second thought. Even if I was intensively reading beforehand, my mind made an unconscious switch, which I believe was intentional by the author. This showcase is more explicit than sneaky tactics lurking in our media today, though it’s a clear example.

Most of what I’ve said is probably adrift from you by now. Whether you haphazardly scanned it, deemed you already knew it, or flat-out disliked it, most will fade away into your endless pile of information overload. Though maybe, for some odd reason, with nothing to do with anything I’m saying, you’ll remember an octopus.

The Fear of Losing Books and the Art of Reading

In both Michelle Levy and Tom Mole’s “Introduction” to The Broadview Introduction to Book History and Professor Pressman’s “Old/New Media,” the history and evolution of the book are examined to understand the ever-changing production and consumption of books. The Broadview Introduction does this by exploring and establishing “four epochs in the history of the book” (xv) and defining “intensive” and “extensive” reading.” Dr. Pressman similarly explores this subject by considering the impact of “new media” on “old media.” By doing so, both excerpts made me consider how interactions with physical media, specifically books, have evolved and been forced to change with digital media growing alongside them. 

Levy and Mole open up an interesting conversation in Book History’s Introduction about the act of reading and its relation to materiality. They write, “the history of reading can be told as a transition from intensive and extensive reading,” and that “by the end of the eighteenth century, the sense of information overload…became a generalized concern” (xviii). This sentiment, discussed in the Introduction, remains relevant today when pertaining to the internet as a source for literature. It is undeniable that the internet holds a plethora of information that is easily accessible, and because of this ease of access, it is valid to be concerned that society as a whole is losing its ability to read intensively, as we are not forced to sit and bear with a book and can simply search for another online article or book. But, as Levy and Mole mention, this concern of an information overload being the downfall of knowledge when information becomes more easily accessible and available, has plagued us for a couple of centuries now. Levy and Mole reassure us that the extensive reading style associated with abundant information is “a positive set of skills that we use to negotiate information overload” (xix) and that “different reading practices tell us that people read in different ways for different reasons, and that they have always done so” (xix). 

Though I think Levy and Mole’s diffusion of the fear of reading and books becoming a dying practice is effective, and their explanation of how people use intensive and extensive reading for different purposes is true, considering that this was written pre-COVID pandemic, interactions with the internet and people have changed. There has been a significant shift to reliance on the internet and new technologies that don’t require human interaction or encourage deep thinking. I do believe that people have always feared new technologies, whether it be books or computers, but it can be hard to ignore the paranoia of rising anti-intellectualism when you’re living through a time of change.

Old Media/New Media and Bookishness

I really enjoyed reading the work of Dr. Pressman in her Johns Hopkins Guide to Digital Media and Textuality essay, “Old Media/New Media.” The mindset portrayed in this text was incredibly encouraging of the new, while never forgetting the old. As stated in the text, “New media inspires new ways of thinking about older media. The impact of new media not only promotes studies of individual old mediums but also inspires the emergence of new modes of scholarship.” This quote does a great job of stating that new media doesn’t erase the old, but allows us a new way to study what came before it. New modes of scholarship are created every day with technology, creating new ways to spread information and tell stories online. The new wouldn’t exist without the old, so we study the inspirations that led to the new creation. Everything evolves: people, technology, the way we take in our information. It is up to us not to take in the new, or else we will never evolve. It’s like a two-way street; old media helps us understand the new, but new media also allows us to reinterpret the old

Week 3: Different Eyes on the Same Book

When I first started reading about book history, I thought it would be a simple field with one clear method. A book is just a book, right? But I quickly realized that the history of books has been studied in very different ways, depending on the country and the tradition. In France, for example, book history focused on how books moved through society and how they influenced big historical events. In Germany, where I am from, the field called “Buchwissenschaft” was more about the practical side, how books were published, produced, and distributed. In Britain, book history developed from bibliography and textual editing, which meant looking closely at different editions of the same work and how small changes could affect the meaning.

I find this really interesting because it shows that each approach asks different questions about the same object. The French way treats the book almost like a historical actor, influencing revolutions and social changes. The German way is more focused on trade and infrastructure, thinking about printers, publishers, and markets. The British way zooms in on the text itself, paying attention to words, punctuation, and editing choices.

As a German student, I can understand why it developed in this way. Germany has a long tradition of book production and publishing, from Gutenberg’s press to the Leipzig Book Fair, so it makes sense that the focus was on how books were made and sold. At the same time, I also appreciate the French and British perspectives because they help me to see other sides of the book that I might not think about otherwise.

What I take away from this is that no single approach is enough on its own. If we only follow one national model, we miss the bigger picture. A book is never only a text or only a product. It is also a cultural force that both shapes and is shaped by history. That is what makes book history so exciting, it asks us to see books from many different angles.

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.