You Are What You Read

Within the grasp of our fingertips, an entire civilization unfolds, a lineage is traced back hundreds of years, and the power exists to alter our physical perception of anyone, including ourselves. This is the digital age, and to understand why this is feasible, or specifically why we’d desire such content so close, we may look at the Middle Ages and the concept of Girdle Books. Through that moment in history, among many others sharing the need for information at hand, it is revealed that codices and electronic devices are extensions of the human.

Our knowledge both expands and limits our freedom of expression. This concept seems simple enough, as a student undergoing med school may read a plethora of medical textbooks, allowing them to go on and on about whatever subject they wish, so long as it is medically related. Though in this performance, the student may be limited in their articulation of sheetrock repair or any other area they disregarded in place of studying medicine. In our day and age, with the excess of information, this isn’t as common an issue, though applying it to the Middle Ages is drastically different. 

With no internet and the time being before the Gutenberg press, Girdle Books largely determined one’s area of interest or expertise. An important choice of diction from Chapter 2 of The Book furthers this claim when looking at this sentence describing Girdle Books as “an oversized soft leather cover whose flaps could be looped under one’s belt for easy consultation on the go.” Notice how Borsuk chose the word consultation, rather than enjoyment, reading, or any other word for examining a book. This is because the owners were largely monks, professionals, and individuals who possessed relevant knowledge they could then apply to whatever circumstance. Of course, there were the select wealthy individuals who held knowledge with no “real” reason for it, but even then, the reason may be to gloat about their expanse of knowledge, useful or not.

With our accessible knowledge continuously expanding, there may be a point of collective knowing. This is speculative, of course, but I think all fun things are. As cellphones are the new girdle books, already multiplying our information at hand by an absurd amount, I am curious what technology will take the place of cellphones. Is imagining a society that collectively is tapped into an all-knowing AI that far off? Value could lie in the undigitized creations of mankind or the critical thought aspect. But honestly, is it unreasonable to imagine a doctor who’s programmed with all the knowledge necessary to achieve excellence in his division? Or is a human being just in the way at that point in the future? And lastly, off my main point, could all-knowing humans even be unique at that point? I pose this to the aether, and to any future person able to answer this question one day, until it’s finally true.

Bring Back Handcrafting Letter Stamps

In the second chapter of The Book, Borsuk investigates the evolution of book content from the font to the binding and how that changed the way in which people approach books today. Borsuk begins with the origins of the modern codex, which lies with Gutenberg’s printing press in the 1440’s. But as Borsuk notes, “as much as we laud Gutenberg, he was not actually the first person to print with movable type,” instead,  it was “Chinese engineer, Bi Shen who developed a technique for printing from clay type he carved by hand” (73). I appreciated this acknowledgement because, not only does it highlight the reality of the movable type’s history, but it also shows how book practices developed relatively independently, as explored in the previous chapter.

Today, when typing, plenty of people don’t even have to consider their font choices so seriously. Though we might change it from Arial to Times New Roman, or if we’re feeling silly, Papyrus or Comic Sans, the labor, artistry, and history of creating fonts isn’t taken into account. In this chapter of The Book Borsuk, when discussing the printing press, goes into how Gutenberg and others had to literally create their own font. This task was more than just designing how letters would appear, but also how. The metal cast had to be strong enough to withstand the force of a printing press but not so hard that it destroyed the paper it was going on. In Gutenberg’s case, he “formulate[ed] his own alloy of tin and lead” (66) that was strong and had a low melting point. Borsuk then explains the complicated process of creating the stamps for the movable type, which was a lot to take in. With this page-long explanation, I realized the convenience of modern screens, keyboards, and printers. Gone are the days of arduous labor that required people to handcraft a single letter and put their full weight into pressing those handcrafted stamps onto handcrafted paper with an ink that was also made by hand. I think because of our disconnect with the labor that goes into the crafting of a book, in addition to its more automated route of creation, the path to fetishization of the book becomes easier.

Week 5: Books Becoming Content Based

After reading Chapter 2 of Amaranth Borsuk’s The Book, the curation of the book itself went from an intricate handmade artform to a mass production to fit the newfound purpose of the book, which is to use it for its content. Last Tuesday’s class in the Special Collections, we took the time to observe a variety of texts and the craftsmanship of the book itself. The covers, bindings, and format of the text revealed a history of the book without the reader even having to open it. For example, the intricate handmade cover of the Dominican Catholic Hymns book portrayed its importance with its ornate embellishments and high-quality leather. Being able to see the different handcrafted books in person highlighted the dramatic shift from books as art objects to books as content-based mediums.

I took a glance at my own personal book collection, and couldn’t help but notice that the majority of the books on my shelves are paperbacks with creased spines and flimsy covers that lacked any artistry. I flipped through the pages and noticed that most of the paper itself was so thin that I could see the words faintly through the other side. These observations display how “the printing press changed the book by facilitating its proliferation and separating the idea of the book from the object” (Borsuk, 76). Prior to the printing press, the book reflected more than the content inside. It was a portrayal of status and wealth not just a container of knowledge. The printing press made books more accessible and created the shift from sacred, one-of-a-kind artifacts to everyday commodities, valued primarily for the content they carried rather than the material form they took.

In my SOC730 course: Advanced Social Theory Class, we are discussing Marx theories that explain that with the increase in automation and capitalism we will see a decrease in work hours and more time for individuals to pursue arts and , to my understanding, more time to appreciate art. Will automation continue to decrease the artistry of books leaving them as disposable vessels of information? Or, perhaps, will it create space for a resurgence of book crafting as people search for meaning and beauty in tangible, handmade forms?

Are Books Alive?!!?

After reading Borsuk’s chapter two in The Book, I was honestly super intrigued by the way they were discussing the book or codex as a body while describing each and every aspect of it like a body part. I also love how this part of the book transitions into the next sub-chapter which is how we as a society created some sort of intimate connection with this object that is not even alive. These two connect so well with each other since we see the book as a body and it is a clear representation of how we created such a close relationship with books.

Pretty wild to describe the book as body parts because I don’t believe a random bystander who doesn’t read occasionally would look at a book in that way besides it looking like, well, a book. The intimacy of not only looking at a book as a body, but as well writing down notes in the margins which then add another layer of relationship with the book is another telling sign of having a personal relationship with the book. The printing press creating these margins allowed for people to start spending more time with the book and having a personal relationship due to how important they viewed the content. This would then make every copy ever made more and more unique as time went on.

“The early years of printed codex thus mark both an important technological shift (the mechanical reproduction of text) and a philosophical one in terms of how we relate to books”(Borsuk 84).

This line fascinates me so much because it perfectly describes everything that I talked about earlier and of how we as humans have created such a close relationship with something that isn’t literally alive, but we do believe it is alive in one way or another due to how we react to the book since it feels as though we have a conversation with it as we continuously read it. So now it makes me wonder sometimes if our books are truly alive in one way shape or form because usually, we have intimate relationships with entities that are alive and not as much with things that aren’t alive. Our obsession with books is truly something that I never thought of especially when I look back to previous class discussion on how Professor Pressman discusses the fact that we as a society have really fetishized it to such a far degree and so far, that we have ended up tattooing it permanently on our body.

One more thing that I believe adds another layer on top of the intimacy with books is the fact that people back then would pirate books since they weren’t able to have many copies or that it may be too expensive. You have to be obsessed with a certain genre, author or story type to go out of your way to do illegal things to obtain such literature. My only question now is how far have we fetishized this inanimate object and second, how much further are we willing to push that line simply because we love books?

The Church, Power, and Gutenberg

When reading chapter 2 of “The Book,” I questioned why Gutenberg was mentioned so prominently when it came to the printing press (yes he made many great achievements but he was not the first, see page 72’s mention of Bi Sheng). The answer that came to light is from page 72-73, “Evidence suggests that Gutenberg printed Latin schoolbooks and papal indulgences before completing his Bible as a means of supporting his press and currying favor with the Church” (Borsuk 72-73). One of the main reasons why I think Gutenberg has his place in history is because he curried favor with the Church—one of, if not, the most powerful entity of the time. The Church had overwhelming influence and a seemingly endless amount of funds. Gutenberg was first, and foremost, an entrepreneur, as seen in his earlier pursuits of gem-polishing, and “producing and selling mirrors to pilgrims” (Borsuk 65). And his print shop was one of his business ventures. Therefore, Gutenberg’s first motive is money—not necessarily the spread of knowledge. (It also helps that he was born into a rich family.)

In knowing this, it is not far-fetched to assume Gutenberg made a business decision to fall in line with what the Church wanted—it was a symbiotic relationship; the Church got to spread their message with ease, and Gutenberg was able to continue his business. On top of this, Gutenberg most likely knew that people were likely to buy religious books, because the Church was so powerful and most people subscribed to its faith. In printing the Bible and other religious texts, Gutenberg secured himself in the Church’s eyes, and thus in history.

Those with (and in) power are often able to either write history, or make us see it through their lens. Gutenberg’s story is an example of controlling the narrative. By making sure Gutenberg’s print shop stays alive through the Church’s funding, the Church is able to decide what is printed. If Gutenberg printed something the church was against, they could pull their funding and force Gutenberg out of business. They can decide to censor other perspectives and voices. It echoes the same problem today, of those in power trying to control and censor knowledge.

“The Medium is the Massage” and Other Forms of Cultural Change

I thoroughly enjoyed Borsuk’s second chapter of Book. What really stuck out to me was the discussion about how the physicality of a book can impact the information inside it. For example, Borsuk mentions how “the publication of scientific treatises allowed scholars to engage in dialogue and debate with thinkers far removed, directly facilitating the spread of ideas that would flourish with the Renaissance” (84). In other words, the fact that science was being written down as opposed to being passed down orally allowed it to be spread much further and faster, thus leading to the Renaissance. New technology plays a strong role in creating and molding a certain type of society–whether that be through the accessibility of information or the way in which it is transmitted.

Another example of this phenomenon is “the passivity of watching television” which is juxtaposed with the “romance of disembodiment” that comes with reading (86). This can be connected to Marshall McLuhan’s argument in “The Medium is the Massage” that the medium is an integral part in how the message is interpreted by the audience. Here, Borsuk makes the argument that watching TV is a passive form of entertainment as opposed to the “romantic disembodiment” of reading. On top of the fact that media technology can radically change accessibility (thus the breadth and depth of that knowledge), a culture whose mass media is all books will differ from a culture whose mass media is all TV because there is an inherent difference in how these mediums are interpreted by most people.

The Relationship between Book and Reader

Following the advent of the printing press, the relationship between books and people slowly became something more akin to what we are familiar with now. The printing press allowed for faster production, standardized grammar, and the rise of credited authors, along with many other developments. With this, we see the emergence of the Book as a product and as a companion. More and more people are reading and collecting books, and so thus creates the start of the feverish book community.

Throughout chapter two of Borsuk’s, “The Book,” she discusses the beginnings of the marketability of the Book. While explaining incunabula, Borsuk notes that printed books were designed to look like illuminated manuscripts in which people already recognized and were familiar with. With these design choices, books became more trustworthy and slowly earned their place within homes since they were fashioned after liturgical codices. These new books were not made to be revolutionary so that they remain familiar for their new audience.

Later, Borsuk goes on to explain the process of bookbinding and the physical body of the book. As the book evolves into what we have today, there is an increased rise in book ownership. Books are no longer a communal object but rather a personal device. In the section, “The Body of the Book,” Borsuk writes, “These modes of claiming a book point to a moment when ownership determined aesthetics, before books became uniform, mass-produced commodities whose bodies bear the marks of manufacturing standards, marketing, and bookselling.” This is an interesting period where people were able to decorate and emboss their books to their liking. This reminded me of videos I have seen where people ‘destroy’ their books in order to rebind them with a new cover or add new endpapers. Most of the time in these videos, those books are often fashioned in a style that brings to mind old books. They are typically embossed with gold foiling and sometimes have gilded or painted pages. To me, this shows that the marketability of the Book is cyclical. The books of the past have progressed to where we are now, however we try to revert to old practices.

Furthermore, in the section, “The Intimate Book,” Borsuk notes, “At this point they became the intimate spaces we now expect them to be, whether guiding one through the stations of daily devotion or conveying ancient thought on the structure of tragedy. While we currently enjoy many different kinds of reading experiences, in Western culture “the book” is almost universally seen through this intimate lens.” Books have become a private affair, where the reader is now able to have their own conversations with the book. In this new, intimate manner, readers were able to interact with their books in a deeper way. They use marginalia to mark up their books and are encouraged to “engage more deeply with their books and turn them into private spaces for dialogue.” This shows that reading was developing into something deeper. Readers were able to have conversations with the author, who was able to be credited for their work when printing became mechanized. From Amaranth Borsuk’s “The Book” it is clear that readers have always had an intimate bond with books that has flourished over the centuries following the widespread availability of books.

Worshiping the Book Through Annotation- Week Five

Borsuk in the second chapter discusses the intimacy of the book, of reading it, of having something uniquely made. Printshops designed “printer devices” to make their shops stand out, with a book uniquely theirs, tied to them. My question is do we have that same intimacy and relationship with books as readers to the makers and writers?

I covet it, sometimes I think I might worship them. Even as a kid, I hated writing in books. I still don’t unless I am deliberately instructed to do so with annotations and highlighting. I internally cringe when someone dog tags a book page. On my bookshelf, you will rarely find a book of mine to be fully annotated. While I don’t usually annotate as I’m reading as it brings out of my state of focus on what I’m reading, if I do, I use sticky notes and page markers to make point of things. I can’t will myself to write on pages because I feel I am ruining the art of the delicate paper and letters that the printer compiled. I think have this intimacy for books, but I am really just coveting it and not allowing myself to have an actual relationship with the words and pages?

I had this question when I went to bible study last week and everyone had written and highlighted in their bibles. They had a chorus of words in all the margins or wherever they could fit to describe their thoughts on the passage. They have bibles now that have space for notes on the each page to write down your thoughts. By writing down everything, they have a personal relationship with their bible book which gives them a stronger understanding of the text and of God. And that is the point, to get something out of the book, to create an understanding with the book. By annotating it, it increases their importance to them and everyone that made that book.

Annotating and writing in the book creates a personal connection to the authors and the makers of the book. If we sanctify a text so much where we can’t touch it, do we lose part of the connection we have with it or making it stronger by giving it this mystical and powerful presence?

The Commercialization of Books

While reading chapter 2 of Amaranth Borsuk’s The Book, I learned many things about the printing press that I did not know before, particularly because I didn’t know much about it. I knew the name of Johannes Gutenberg, but I knew nothing about him or the machine itself. Reading about how the machine worked was really interesting! I also appreciated the addition of Gutenberg being important for European book printing, but there already had been some version of book printing in China and other areas. Lots of cultures, and people within those cultures were inventing their own ways to speed up book production.

What I found the most interesting was the section on copyrights and intellectual property. I never thought about it, but with older books being used as religious texts, and especially since they were written by scribes, the author wasn’t as important. It’s hard to imagine from the modern perspective. The shift occurred because of the printing press, which is when books became more about the content than the object (pg 100). The artistry began to matter less and less, and even I grew up being told not to judge a book by its cover. People could purchase, own, and read their books, and because of how fast the publishing industry grew it became necessary to create copyright and public domain laws. I don’t think this shift was very important to the masses. After all, books were bought for their content. And the modern book publishing methods would be considered miraculous to those even 100 years ago. I just think that mass production can sometimes make something lose what made it special.

What even are Majascules and Miniscules?

This is an awesome chapter that taught me plenty of things I’ve never known before. Of course, I don’t know everything about a book, especially the fact that upper- and lower-case letters literally meant they were stored in the upper and lower cases of shelf organization. After learning that in class, I was mind blown! It is truly such an amazing privilege to learn about the history of minute things like letters and how they originated.

I remember in class we were discussing upper and lower cases as a literal technical term for printing presses. What I find interesting is that we continue to credit Gutenberg for the “invention” of the printing press when he only created a business that spread printing throughout Europe. I’m not excusing his contributions to book history, however, I was please to learn that others came before him. According to Borsuk, a “Chinese engineer Bi Sheng […] developed a technique for printing from clay” (73), which is not as well-known. Sheng developed this in 1041, around 4 centuries before Gutenberg. This shocked me especially because of how much credit we give Gutenberg who barely even ran his own business. His financier and son-in-law took over the company when Gutenberg failed to repay investments.

But to the real point of this post, I seriously had no idea that upper- and lower-case letters are also called majuscules and minuscules. I knew miniscule was at least an adjective, but I never considered it as a noun. I distinctly remember discussing this in class because a peer asked what they were called before ever being put in cases. We didn’t know the answer, but this book revealed it. I find that aspect about reading super fun because there is always something new. That’s the reason why the definition for book gradually changed over time.

With the invention of the printing press, replications of the bible were being produced in larger quantities. Those with access to acquire a bible from a printing press had money and power, which were usually churches who read from the bible. Therefore, the definition of book shifted from more of a physicality to an ideology. That ideology was the fact that books held knowledge and, at the same time, power. It really makes me wonder if people fetishize books for their idea of “power” or if there is some other underlying reason.