Meeting a Living Book

There are times when something familiar suddenly feels different. That happened to me the first time I sat in the Special Collections room at SDSU and a librarian placed a small Persian manuscript in front of me. It was a copy of The Divan of Hafez, a poet whose name I had heard many times from friends, conversations, and small cultural moments that stayed with me. I knew how meaningful Hafez was to people I care about. I had heard the warmth in the voices of my Iranian and Afghan friends when they mentioned him. Still, I had never held one of his books. I had never seen his poetry in a form shaped by hand, by time, and by the people who once lived with it.

The book was smaller than I expected. Its leather cover was worn in a way that felt honest, as if it had lived its own long life without trying to hide any of it. When I touched it, something in me slowed down. I noticed the red ink beginning each ghazal, the soft shimmer of gold that appeared even in gentle light, and the faint lined texture of the handmade paper. I saw the small signs of age: a loose spine, softened corners, slight tears. None of these felt like damage. They felt like evidence of use, of hands and eyes that had been here long before mine.

In that moment I understood that this book communicated in more ways than one. It did not speak only through its poetry. It spoke through its material presence: through color, texture, and the traces of all the people who had held it. I wanted to respond to that in a way that felt as alive as the object itself. I wanted to write something that did not only analyze the book but answered it.

That is where this project began.

My final project combines a poem with a longer reflection. Poetry allowed me to express what the physical book made me feel, and the analytical essay helped me understand that experience through the ideas we studied in class, especially those of Amaranth Borsuk and Jessica Pressman. In this blog style version, I try to guide you through that process with the same calm attention the manuscript asked of me.

My poem argues that the manuscript of The Divan of Hafez communicates through its physical qualities just as much as through its words. Red ink, gold illumination, and signs of age all shape the way a reader encounters the book. This material experience connects directly to the theories of Borsuk and Pressman. By close reading my poem, I explore how creative writing can express the physical presence of the manuscript in a way that reveals new layers of meaning.

There are some objects that come into your life quietly and stay with you for reasons that are hard to explain at first. The manuscript of The Divan of Hafez became one of those for me. I had heard about Hafez through friends who spoke about him with the kind of affection people usually reserve for those who have helped them through something. I knew his poetry held emotional weight for many people, but I had never seen a manuscript version with my own eyes. When the librarian placed it gently in front of me, what struck me first was not the text but the feeling of presence. The book was small enough to rest easily in my hands. Its leather had softened where fingers had met it again and again. The gold still caught light, and the red ink marked each new ghazal with simple clarity. Even its loosened spine felt like part of its story.

As I spent more time with it, I felt the manuscript encouraging me to slow down. Its beauty, age, and texture created a rhythm completely different from digital reading or even modern printed books. This was reading shaped by material qualities, not just by language. It reminded me of what Borsuk and Pressman wrote. Borsuk describes the book as an interface, something that shapes our reading through its design. Pressman argues that the codex remains endlessly new because every encounter with it becomes its own experience. This manuscript made both of those ideas feel real to me.

This project grew directly out of that experience. I wanted to respond to the manuscript with attention and care. First through a poem, and then through a reflection that connects my response to the ideas from our course. Both together became my way of showing that careful looking and slow reading can become their own form of understanding.

Red Ink Soft Hands

I opened you
and you breathed.

Not loudly,
just enough for the gold
to wake on the page.

Your red ink
waited for me
like a small flame
still warm
after so many winters.

I could not read your script
but I could read your touch
the softened corners,
the thumb shaped shadows,
the places where time
sat down to rest.

You were held
before I ever knew your name.

Someone bent over your pages,
mixing red pigment,
pressing gold into borders
as if love could be made
with steady hands.

Now you lie quietly
in a cradle of soft foam,
but nothing in you
is still.

Your colors move,
your edges whisper,
your red lines rise like breath
between one thought
and the next.

If a book can look back,
you did.

And I answered
the only way I know
with a poem
that tries
to hold you
as gently
as you have been held.

Writing this poem felt natural, almost necessary. It came from the emotional reaction I had before thinking about theory. The manuscript did not feel distant. It felt alive. The red ink, the hand drawn borders, the soft worn pages all created a sense of presence. I wanted the poem to hold that presence in language. I did not want to make it overly academic. I wanted to stay close to the simplicity and honesty of my first encounter. The short lines reflect the pauses I took while looking at the manuscript, and the imagery grew from what I saw and felt. The tone remains gentle because the book itself felt gentle.

I also wanted the poem to acknowledge the human hands that created the manuscript. Someone once spent hours mixing pigments and shaping letters. That labor is part of the meaning of the book, and including it in the poem felt essential. Writing creatively became a way to mirror, in a small way, the care that went into the manuscript. After writing the poem, I stepped back to understand how it reflects what the manuscript showed me and how it connects to the ideas from our course.

My poem argues that the manuscript of The Divan of Hafez communicates through its physical qualities as much as through its words. The manuscript guides the reader with red ink, gold illumination and traces of age, and this material experience can be understood through the theories of Amaranth Borsuk and Jessica Pressman. The opening lines of the poem express that first impression of presence:

I opened you
and you breathed.

This sense of awakening resonates with Pressman’s idea that physical books remain endlessly new. The book itself is old, but the encounter is alive. The next lines continue this impression:

just enough for the gold
to wake on the page.

The “waking” of gold is not literal, of course. It is a reaction created by light, movement and attention. Yet it shaped my reading as strongly as any translation of the text. This is where Borsuk’s idea of the book as interface becomes helpful. The manuscript’s design guides the reader’s emotions and focus long before the linguistic content comes into play.

The red ink became one of the strongest emotional elements of the manuscript. In the poem I describe it as

like a small flame
still warm
after so many winters.

This image captures how the ink felt both old and alive. The rubrication created a kind of rhythm on the page, guiding my eyes even though I could not read the language itself. The red ink still communicated structure, emphasis, and a certain feeling, even without my understanding of Persian script. Borsuk notes that color in manuscripts often shapes how we move through a text, and my poem reflects how strongly this use of color influenced the way I experienced the manuscript.

Another element that shaped my response was the material wear of the book. The soft corners and slightly darkened edges made the manuscript feel honest. When I wrote

the places where time
sat down to rest,

I meant that age had become part of the object, not a flaw but a form of memory. These marks created a connection to past readers. Borsuk calls such markings the residues of reading, and the poem tries to capture how these residues changed my experience. They made the book feel shared across time.

The poem also imagines the scribe who once bent over the pages. Writing

pressing gold into borders
as if love could be made
with steady hands

was my way of acknowledging the devotion involved in making the manuscript. Persian manuscript culture emphasizes beauty as part of meaning. The gold borders are not just decoration, they shape the experience of reading. Jessica Pressman’s writing about bookishness helps explain this, physical books often invite admiration because of their design, not only their words.

The ending of the poem expresses the heart of my experience:

If a book can look back,
you did.

Reading is not passive. Books shape us as we study them. The manuscript created an emotional response that felt almost reciprocal. This moment in the poem connects both to Pressman’s idea of newness and to Borsuk’s understanding of material interaction. The poem becomes a record of how the manuscript looked back at me through its design, its age and its presence.

Even though the poem is a creative work, it performs media specific analysis. It focuses on the physical details that shaped my experience. It pays attention to how design choices, color and age guide reading. It treats the book as a product of human labor and as an object that continues to live through its readers. Through this, the poem becomes a reflection of the manuscript’s materiality and a demonstration of how physical books communicate across time.

Working on this project changed the way I think about books. The Divan of Hafez taught me that meaning is not only in the words but also in the gestures surrounding them. Red ink, soft paper, worn corners and gold illumination all communicate in subtle but powerful ways. The manuscript showed me how beauty, emotion and intellect can coexist on the same page. Writing the poem allowed me to express that emotional connection, and analyzing it helped me understand why that connection mattered.

This project reminded me that books are alive because people return to them. They continue to live through attention, touch and care. Each encounter adds something new. Each reader brings their own breath. The Divan of Hafez has been read for centuries, and working on this project made me feel like I had joined that long line of readers in a small way.

The classic novel, Moby Dick, a fundamental and influential work in the American literary canon, has been read and reread for decades, serving as a staple in classrooms across the country. However, you wouldn’t guess that the now essential “must-read” novel was originally a failure. In the year of its publication, 1851, Melville was faced with immense criticism, claiming that his novel was careless, confusing, and overly complex. It wasn’t until the early 20th century that this novel found its revival and became what we know it to be today, showcasing that it needed a different cultural moment, new scholars, and a whole new generation to rediscover this work and appreciate its experimental, modernist, and depthful style. This novel was then adapted into films and limited editions, expanding its audience reach and cultural influence. It is to be said that almost every adult has heard of Moby Dick, whether they even read the story or not. This reveals how a once-failed novel has gained exceptional power and value, all while influencing so many people across many different eras of our American History. In this scholarly essay, I will be honing in on the biography of the 1979 Arion Press publication of Moby Dick by Herman Melville and how it reveals a great deal about ownership, the construction of a book’s value, the history of limited editions, and how even in the digital age we are living it today, people still continue to appreciate physical codicies.

The once-failed novel Moby Dick became an incredibly notable moment in a man’s fine press publishing career, putting him on the map for fine press books in America. This man is Andrew Hoyem, founder of Arion Press, and publisher of a profound limited edition of Moby Dick by Herman Melville in 1997. Yet there was an important time span between the publication of Moby Dick in 1851 and the release of its famous limited edition that needed to occur. As seen in the article regarding the history of Moby Dick by John Bryant Leviathan, “Today, Moby-Dick is regarded as one of our culture’s most powerful books. But this was not always the case, for its readership, now worldwide, had dwindled almost at the moment of its publication in October 1851. And it is safe to say now, 150 years later, that in only the latter half of those years in existence has the novel achieved the readership Melville (himself long gone) might have hoped for and the popularity it deserves. Of course, the power of a book and its popularity are separate things” (Leviathan, 37). This passage is representative of the large gap of time between the publication of Moby Dick and its success. When society accepted it as a powerful piece of literature, it was decades after its release. This highlights how texts will arrive before readers are ready for them, and whether a book finds popularity is a separate idea, unrelated to the power it holds. When Moby Dick was born, it seemed to have died that very day, faced with critique and backlash. It took a different cultural moment to resurrect the content of Moby Dick and place it on the pedestal it sits on today comfortably, as one of the most profound pieces of literature ever written. This argues that a book’s power is separate from its popularity, and that literary power should not be based on immediate praise. Moby Dick found its power not as a popular novel but as a rediscovered one shunned in its time, and praised today. 

The partnership between the resurrection of this canon novel and the adaptation and expansion it underwent supported its launch into the role it plays in our society today as an incredibly recognizable and familiar text, part of pop culture. John Bryant Leviathan continues, “But if a ‘loose-fish’ as vital as Moby-Dick is to last, it will evolve, not simply in the way we interpret it, but in its very materiality, and in the way we ‘package’ it. Readers have a way of turning a text into the thing they want it to be, and to make it look like a reflection of themselves. Thus, Moby-Dick has appeared in special limited editions, abridged editions, children’s editions, translations, recordings, and films” (Leviathan, 37-56). This quote emphasizes how books are not only constructed but also reshaped by culture and society. Great works of literature never remain stagnant, but constantly evolve to fit in the current culture. This explains the various covers books will wear and the different materiality texts will find themselves in. The metaphor used in this quote, “a loose fish’ illustrates that once a text is released into the world, it is subject to transformation and adaptation from the original packaging it first came in, signifying that objects are shaped by society’s needs, and will change as generations go on. This evolution is crucial for a text’s survival in culture, demonstrating that these artifacts stay relevant in collaboration with the new forms they take, not despite it.

There have been many popular limited editions of Moby Dick, rediscovered and reimagined, presenting a new materiality and packaging for the tale we all know and love. The 1979 Arion Press publication of Moby Dick stands out as a gorgeous and powerful edition that catches the eye of anyone near it. From the cover to the spine, every design choice was purposefully crafted to represent the content inside. The blue glossy texture is similar to the blue ocean with a water-like texture, comparable to waves that would have washed over the Pequod. Down the spine, the engraving: “Melville’s Moby Dick Arion Press” is made with silver lettering, smooth yet rigid to the touch. Exploring this publication takes you on an adventure, each art piece and arrangement constructing a new way of thinking of Moby Dick. After a few moments of appreciating the artistry, the cover opens to the first page, containing a simple white blank page, representing the vast and mighty whiteness of the whale. Its large-scale and heavy-duty body sets this work apart as majestic, different, and even an object of desire, much like how the whale is an object of Ahab’s desire.

To take your adventure one step forward into the content of this codex, you must flip through five thick blank white pages before reaching the title page, which features a woodcut-stamped portrait of Herman Melville, his name, and the title printed in blue: Moby Dick; or, The Whale and The Arion Press: San Francisco, 1979. It replicates the quote found in the original copy,  “In token of my admiration for his genius, this book is inscribed to Nathaniel Hawthorne,” Melville’s pen pal for two years. Turning the next few pages, labeled iv–vii, you find the table of contents in Roman type, followed by an illustration of the world map marking major whaling grounds and the inferred track of the Pequod. Feeling the paper, it’s thick and textured, revealing slight lines and traces of acidity. The pages are torn, serrated, and raw, suggesting that the entire sheet was used and intentionally left untrimmed. After hunting and searching under the light, there is a whale-shaped watermark, its hidden nature adding to the storytelling of the whale. After much anticipation and suspense, the opening line of this great American novel has finally arrived, where the first word of the sentence appears large, blue, and bigger than life. Symbolizing the vast blue ocean and suggesting that, just as one can lose themselves at sea, one can also become immersed in the words on the page. 

From cover to cover, it becomes clear that Arion Press maintains significant creative influence over the typography, paper, binding, and illustrations that shape this codex. On their website, they note that “Arion Press pairs great artists with great literature to create beautiful books by hand. Crafting artist books by hand for a half century.” The language used, such as “crafting” and “by hand,” defines this book as the product of human craftsmanship rather than industrial machinery, giving this codex a sense of higher quality and rendering it a one-of-a-kind artifact. The idea of crafting a codex by hand, with the assistance of hand tools, makes this limited edition Arion Press publication of Moby Dick unique, thanks to the personal emotional connection and contact. This choice to handcraft books also responds to the Industrial Revolution, celebrating craftsmanship and the human touch. Since these codices are created by hand, it is stated that every inch of them was a choice and a process led by humans rather than machines. Even the art was made by a human hand, artfully crafted and thoughtfully added to each page.

The beautiful images, produced by Barry Moser, created from relief printing, are scattered on the pages, creating an undeniably eye-catching experience. According to Andrew Hoyem, these illustrations were created intentionally to maintain the interpretation of Moby Dick intact. This is made clear in the following extended passage from the review of Moby Dick by Lewis Carroll. “As far as Moby-Dick is concerned, from the beginning, it was decided by Andrew Hoyem that nothing interpretive would enter into the illustrations. Consequently, they are made up of pictures of whales, ships, and the tools used in whaling, and are based on prints and paintings preserved in those shrines of the whaler to be found in such places as Nantucket, Mystic, and New Bedford. The result is a series of realistic woodcuts, a trifle heavy in their contrasting black-and-white patterns, providing a suitable accompaniment to the hand-set Goudy Modern typeface of the text” (Carroll, Volume 38, Issue 2). The wording in this passage, particularly the phrase, “It was decided by Andrew Hoyem,” highlights the deliberate and authoritative role of the publisher in shaping the visual identity of the edition. By emphasizing Hoyem’s decision that “nothing interpretive” enter the illustrations, the passage frames the artwork not as creative reinterpretation but as an extension of his editorial vision. The repeated focus on historically grounded imagery, “pictures of whales, ships, and the tools used in whaling” reinforces this commitment to authenticity and historical accuracy. Being mindful of this is particularly important when crafting an edition of a book that was already written; you want to carefully stay true to its content to ensure the experience and perception for its readers. Art and illustrations are powerful and influential, especially in the context of a narrative, and can induce an altered interpretation if constructed incorrectly. The fact that the press decided to wholly include illustrations of whales and whaling instead of attempting to tell its story stays true to Melville’s vision and sets them apart as respectful visionaries, careful not to overstep important boundaries

Every choice made while assembling this Limited Edition fine press codex took deep thought and consideration. Each word is printed on custom-made Barcham Green handmade paper, and the font is an American-designed Goudy Modern. An even more interesting choice was the font used for the large-scale letters that start the first word in every new chapter. These letters were made with Leviathan Capitals, which is a fitting, purposeful, and witty choice, as it references a biblical sea monster. Other physicalities of this version of Moby Dick worth noting are the lack of marginalia, bookplate, or any imprints from previous owners. This book has been extremely well kept over the years and feels almost brand new, which says a lot about this specific copy and its personal history. After further research and inquiry, there is no information in SDSU’s special collections about a previous owner or donor, adding an air of mystery and questions to this codex. Where did you come from? Who owned you? How did you get to this library? There are also no signatures for binding, and the binding was done with bright blue thread, signaling that even the thread color was a specific design choice. This codex contains 576 pages, ending with an epilogue and a colophon. To finish the book, you have to turn five more empty white pages to reach the end. When you reach the end, it is clear that the size, color choices, images, and textures added to the novel were purposeful and representative of its content. Digesting every design choice bound together argues that this fine press book was created for both enjoyment and aesthetic appreciation. This is an object to be desired, acquired, and collected; its large size not only represents the whale but also serves as a valuable commodity. 

This Arion Press limited edition of Moby Dick speaks about craftsmanship and a book’s value, as described in the Los Angeles Times interview with Andrew Hoyem, “Arion’s ‘Moby Dick’ was bound in Moroccan goatskin and enhanced with engravings by artist Barry Moser. Just 265 were printed. They were sold for $1,000 at the time. According to Biblio magazine, “Many authorities rank this edition of ‘Moby Dick’ as one of the two or three greatest American fine press books.” The fact that this once-failed book, met with immense critique and strife, was allowed to evolve into not only a success but a status symbol, reveals a lot about the value and reimagination of a book. These editions were bound in real animal skin, which gives this book an air of luxury, status, and value. Historically, books bound in goat skin were more expensive and sought after than books bound in common materials. This reflects the wealth and status of its owner, and encourages the object’s scarcity. In this limited edition, value is created from its materials, the human touch used to form it, the time it was published, and the amount sold. The scarce amount of 265 copies is a strategic choice that solidifies this item as rare and valuable. The $1000 price tag is the cherry on top, making this object a desired and special item, one that will become more expensive as the years go on as a collector’s item.

The history of the Arion Press and its catalogue of codices published speaks about their purpose and overall mission. As stated on the Arion Press website, “Fifty years ago, Andrew Hoyem officially founded Arion Press, establishing what would become one of the country’s last fine book printers. Since then, we have released 127 exquisitely handcrafted tomes—classic literature reimagined by contemporary artists, whose singular vision brings a new perspective to the text.” This quote reflects a half-century of devotion to the art of bookmaking and craftsmanship. Even in an era of digital media, Arion Press stands as a rare and significant testament to handcrafted codices, contemporary art, and the reimagination of perspectives. Arion Press continues to publish books and make a name for itself. In the span of one hundred and twenty-seven books published, Moby Dick falls as a fine press book number six, showing that it was published early in Arion Press’s career. Arion Press has also published its versions of classic texts such as The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ulysses by James Joyce, and even The Holy Bible. These texts all have in common deep human significance and thought. This selection can be classified as their mission statement of bringing new perspectives to already written texts and marking themselves as part of important literary history.

There is something to be said about the history of limited-edition books and the lack of information surrounding it. Stated in The History of the Limited Editions Club. By Carol Porter Grossman, “The impact of the Limited Editions Club on bibliophile taste in the USA, Europe, and elsewhere was considerable, and yet no full-length study of its history and publications has appeared until now… The history of the Limited Editions Club is really that of two brilliant publishers, George Macy and Sid Shiff. The Club’s production falls into three periods as a result. Founded by Macy in 1929” (Grossman, pg 250–251). This study came out in 2017, truly showcasing how new and modern the study of book history is. It is to be noted that the emergence of limited edition books started in the 19th century as a response to mass-produced books and industrialization. There was a Private Press Movement in 1891, and then many adaptations of the houses that made limited editions, which followed after. Limited editions are important to our history because they mark a point in time when books became objects of art and craftsmanship instead of mere vessels of content. Additionally, this is when books became objects of collection and acquisition for a high price, thus creating books to be commodities instead of books as information vessels to be read.

The history of books as a whole and the communication circuit that takes books from writer to publisher to reader and everything in between tends not to count limited editions in their equations. As seen in, What is the History of Books by Robert Darnton, “Instead of dwelling on fine points of bibliography, they tried to uncover the general pattern of book production and consumption over long stretches of time. They compiled statistics from requests for privileges (a kind of copyright), analyzed the contents of private libraries, and traced ideological currents through neglected genres like the bibliothéque bleue (primitive paperbacks). Rare books and fine editions had no interest for them; they concentrated instead on the most ordinary sort of books, because they wanted to discover the literary experience of ordinary readers” (Darton, pg 66). This argues that limited editions are not ordinary books meant for ordinary readers. To push that notion further, the limited fine editions’ purpose isn’t even for reading. If an individual wanted to read Moby Dick, they could go to their local library or bookstore. These limited fine editions are created to be a valuable collector’s item, which don’t even need to be read to be enjoyed or used for their intended purpose. 

There is an argument to be made against the creation of limited-edition books, marking them as objects of prestige, intended for the elite. However, these Fine Press limited editions reveal more about craftsmanship and beauty than elitism, and their history makes that evident. As commented in The Tarlton Law Library, “The British fine presses of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, including Kelmscott Press, Vale Press, Eragny Press, Ashendene Press, Doves Press, Essex House Press and Caradoc Press, embraced the return to craftsmanship that typified the Arts and Crafts movement. Their books were characterized by a combination of carefully chosen texts, high-quality materials, beautifully decorated pages, and equally exquisite bindings.” This passage reveals that fine press limited-edition presses originated as a response to the industrialization and mass production of books. Embracing the Arts and Crafts movement, these presses transformed the printed volume into deliberate works of art. These fine press books are about aesthetic beauty, historical significance, and creating a book that doesn’t need to be read to be enjoyed, admired, and treasured, redefining what a book can be. This then built a community among collectors and created historical objects to learn from and engage with. 

The intended purpose of collecting and owning limited-edition books has been the key to their survival, drawing people to them even in the digital age. Andrew Hoyem points out, “I believe Amazon and e-readers have no effect on our business. People who want Arion Press books want physical books and appreciate our books as works of art and craft. Looking at the larger picture, there is evidence that fatigue with reading on the screen drives the renewal of interest in the physical book.” This statement emphasizes the distinction between the business of limited-edition books and mass-produced codices. Fine press books are part of a specific market for individuals drawn to aesthetic and artful objects. These are meant to be admired and collected rather than exclusively read. Even in the digital age, these books will never go out of style. Their physical quality will always have a place in public and personal libraries. In an age where you can read anything on a device, people are drawn to physical codices, desiring the feel and admiring what is in their hands. What some people consider old news is somebody’s desire and a collector’s item. 

Although some individuals deem limited-edition fine press books as old news, that doesn’t discourage the Arion Press. In fact, they feel the opposite and that even more young people are embracing and craving physical codicies. Andrew Hoyem, in his 2015 interview remarks, “Younger people, tired of staring at screens, are becoming book collectors in increasing numbers.” This showcases that limited-edition books are speaking to young people because of the digital, not despite it. Reading on screens as the only way to get information is drawing young people to the ownership of codices. Owning a physical item is appealing when comparing the digital world to our physical world. In the digital age, we don’t own anything. We are renters, subscribers, or borrowers. At the end of the day, we dont possess the content the digital device provides us. We can’t feel it or touch it, let alone own it. This makes the ownership and collection of codices even more special and desirable in the world we live in today. It is seen in the way individuals collect CDs and records; they also collect books. Whether the intention is to read them or not. The desire stems from the beauty, artfulness, feel, and even smell these physical codices provide. In response to the world so quickly becoming digital, people are holding on to their physical items even tightly. In an age of limited ownership of the digital world, it pushes the urge to own and collect what you can in the physical world.

To conclude, Moby Dick was not always considered the influential and robust work that it is today. This publication underwent incredible scrutiny in its early days and was not met with immediate praise and popularity. Showcasing that a book’s power and its popularity are separate ideas. It took a new generation of scholars to appreciate its content, which pushed this work into pop culture. Doing so, society and culture transformed Moby Dick into many adaptations, films, children’s books, and limited editions, turning it into what they wanted it to be. This created many famous and significant codices that act as historical artifacts, including the 1979 Arion Press publication of Moby Dick by Herman Melville. Exploring this edition opened up the history of limited edition codices and information about presses such as the Arion Press. As a response to the Industrial Revolution and in alignment with the Arts and Crafts movement, a resurgence of handcrafted, limited edition codices made its mark as a significant symbol for artistry, craftsmanship, beauty, and the human touch, becoming valuable collector’s items and objects of ownership. In the digital age we live in today, people still find themselves drawn to and gravitate towards physical codices, showing that these objects will always have a place in our hearts. This argues that books are not just one thing; they possess many services and don’t even have to be read to be admired and enjoyed, pushing us to think about books differently. In a time when you can access almost anything on a digital device without ownership drives the value of a physical codex even further as an item you can feel, touch, and own. 

                                                 Works Cited:

Arion Press. Arion Press, www.arionpress.com  Accessed 12 Dec. 2025. 

Bruckner, D. J. R. “With Art and Craftsmanship, Books Regain Former Glory.” The New York Times Magazine, 28 Oct. 1984.

Bryant, John. “Moby‑Dick: History of a Loose‑Fish: Manuscript, Print and Culture.” Leviathan, vol. 3, no. 2, Oct. 2001, pp. 37–56. Johns Hopkins University Press.

Darnton, Robert. “What Is the History of Books?” Daedalus, vol. 111, no. 3, Summer 1982, pp. 65–83.

Duclos, Paul. “A Press Above the Rest.” Bay Crossings, Bay Crossings Staff Report, 1 Feb. 2015, https://www.baycrossings.com/a-press-above-the-rest/  Accessed 12 Dec. 2025.

Grossman, Carol Porter. The History of the Limited Editions Club. New Castle, Oak Knoll Press, 2017.

“Fine and Private Press.” Tarlton Law Library, The University of Texas at Austin, https://tarlton.law.utexas.edu/fine-and-private-press  Accessed 12 Dec. 2025.

“Review: Moby-Dick; or, The Whale, by Herman Melville.” Nineteenth-Century Literature, vol. 38, no. 2, 1983, p. 238. University of California Press. Accessed via UC Press Online.

Introduction

The seminar on “Books as Objects” made it clear that books are not losing their significance in the digital age, but rather undergoing a transformation. They remain historical, cultural, and symbolic objects, while digital media are simultaneously giving rise to new forms of knowledge transfer. This is precisely where my creative project comes in. It presents a double page consisting of a traditional text page and a meme collage. Both pages convey the same content, but use completely different media logics. The project thus reveals how forms of literature are changing, how digital expression complements traditional structures, and how both media forms coexist rather than exclude each other. My project argues that memes function as a new form of digital literature by translating the material, cultural, and symbolic dimensions of the book into a fragmented visual mode of meaning-making, thereby demonstrating how digital media reshape our understanding of textual objects without replacing the book.

The project demonstrates that literature is not disappearing in the digital age, but rather becoming more diverse. Memes function as digital literature that conveys complex ideas quickly, visually, and with cultural significance. The combination of the linear text page with the fragmented meme page makes it clear that books continue to be significant as material and symbolic objects, while digital media are giving rise to new forms of literature. This coexistence gives rise to an expanded form of meaning in which traditional book culture and digital forms of expression go hand in hand. The project thus illustrates that media change is not a loss, but an expansion of our literary possibilities.

The traditional text page: The book as a multi-layered object

The text page deliberately follows the conventions of a classic book page. It has a linear structure, is organized argumentatively, and focuses on linguistic coherence. In terms of content, it shows that books are more than mere carriers of text. Their significance arises from several levels: their materiality, their production, their social significance, and their effect on thought processes. The page illustrates that books are historically developed media whose structural characteristics, such as page design, binding, and text arrangement, determine how content is read and understood.

These observations can be directly linked to Pressman’s analysis. She describes how, in the 21st century, books function not only as reading devices, but also as cultural symbols that embody values such as knowledge, individuality, and privacy (Pressman, p. 2). In this sense, the text page not only serves to convey information, but also represents the cultural depth and emotional attachment that continue to characterize physical books. At the same time, the page refers to the fragility of media. While a physical book can be physically damaged, digital information is threatened with disappearing unnoticed. Pressman emphasizes that in the digital age, the book is not disappearing, but rather being “repurposed and reimagined” (Pressman, pp. 2-3), an idea that is reflected in the text page by emphasizing the cultural longevity of the book as an object.

The meme page: Digital literature as fragmented meaning production

The meme page replaces linear text with a collage that deliberately focuses on fragmentation, superimposition, and visual condensation. The memes take up all the content of the text page: materiality, historical dimension, emotional attachment, fragility, social significance, and translate it into a form that is typical of digital culture. Instead of linear argumentation, multiple points of meaning arise simultaneously, which in their entirety represent the same content framework.

The meme page thus serves as an example of what Rettberg describes as electronic literature. According to him, digital literature arises when literary activity is produced by a computer or network (Rettberg, p. 169). Memes fulfill precisely these requirements, as they are based on images, text fragments, cultural references, and social interactions. Rettberg emphasizes that digital literature is often characterized by visual elements, non-linearity, and collaborative meaning-making (pp. 168–172). These are characteristics that are central to memes. The meme collage in my project therefore shows how digital media structure complex content differently, not through linguistic depth, but through visual intensity and cultural condensation.

The spatial contrast: form as argument

An essential aspect of the project, which goes beyond a mere comparison of content, is the spatial and visual design of the double page. The left-hand side shows an orderly, legible text, while the right-hand side shows a multitude of memes that overlap and are arranged in clusters. This composition is itself a media-theoretical argument. It shows that media forms not only convey content, but also shape thought structures. While the left page represents a linear order of knowledge, the right page creates a visual knowledge framework based on simultaneity, humor, and association. Rettberg’s description of digital literature as interactive and visually structured (pp. 168–172) is directly reflected in this collage. At the same time, the left-hand page fulfills what Pressman calls cultural “nearness”, a closeness to the book as an object that conveys stability and identity (Pressman, pp. 1–3). The double page thus becomes a performative representation of media change, as it shows how book culture and digital culture coexist and shape each other.

Comparison of the two pages: Different ways of imparting knowledge

A comparison of the traditional text page with the meme page shows that both media forms generate knowledge, but in different ways. While the text page uses argumentation and linearity, the meme page works with visual condensation and cultural references. However, both forms require specific reading skills: the meme requires the ability to quickly recognize visual symbolism, while the text requires linguistic processing.

The project thus confirms a central finding of the seminar: media do not replace each other, but exist in coexistence. Pressman points out that digital culture does not destroy old media, but transforms and recontextualizes them (p. 3). Rettberg, in turn, shows that digital literature creates new possibilities for expression that expand traditional literature rather than replace it (pp. 169–172). My project takes up these insights and makes them visible: books and memes do not compete with each other, but complement each other as different but equally valid forms of knowledge production.

Conclusion

The project demonstrates that literature is not disappearing in the digital age, but rather becoming more diverse. Memes function as digital literary forms that convey complex ideas quickly, visually, and with cultural significance. The combination of the linear text page with the fragmented meme page illustrates that books remain significant as material and symbolic objects, while digital media give rise to new forms of literary expression. The two media forms do not compete with each other, but rather expand the area of literary possibilities.

Crucially, however, the project shows how memes translate central characteristics of the book, its materiality, cultural authority, and symbolic functions, into a new visual and network-based mode of meaning. This digital transformation does not negate the basic principles of the book, but rather translates them into a contemporary, image-oriented logic. The project thus directly confirms the thesis that digital media do not replace our understanding of textuality, but rather transform it. Media change therefore does not mean a loss, but rather an expansion of our literary forms of expression and knowledge, in which traditional book culture and digital literatures coexist productively.

This semester has truly flown by. When this semester started, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this class. I knew it was about Books!!!, and I knew we’d be going to special collections, which I was excited about. But other than that, I saw the words “one time offering” and knew I had to enroll. And I’m glad I did. I have never taken such a theory class before. That isn’t to say we didn’t read books, as we did, but every Thursday class meeting had such a large discussion and I had never had a class like that. Not only did this class make me think, it taught me to think differently. And as I looked at different pieces in collections, the question that kept circling my head was, why? Everything had a reason, and so many things had reasons that I had never considered. So when I say “learn how to think,” I really mean I learned to question everything. And that everything is connected. I was able to gain a deeper understanding on many topics that I didn’t realize I only knew the surface level of.

Although I loved learning about books, I also found archiving to be an interesting topic. Way back on the first day of class, Professor Pressman had asked why we enrolled in the class. I had answered that I was interested in which books survive the passage of time and how books that are considered to be classics are chosen. Through the readings, lectures, and special collections visits, I’ve learned a lot about what gets saved and archived. And that as people, archivists have biases and prejudices that affect how and what is being saved. I’ve heard that publishers are gatekeepers, and I think that archivists are as well. I don’t say that to demonize them, and there are many, probably too many, books, and they can’t all fit in one archive. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t hope and work for more equality in archiving. I had even taken the time to visit the Rare Books room at San Diego Central Library as I had enjoyed my time so much, and was surprised to learn that many of the books in the collection were donated by one person, a person that made a choice to keep and share certain books.

As I leave this class, I will take with me my newfound primary research skills and use them in both my classes and life. Because everything has a “why”, I just need to figure it out.

What a treat it was to take this class, but more so to have met and collaborated with great minds. I would like to say how much I enjoyed this class, reading our discussion posts and our responses to one another. Oftentimes, I found the ideas presented compelling and-moving. This semester was truly a delight, and probably one of the most challenging courses I have taken this year at State; which is a good thing, I found myself questioning and challenging my beliefs–this is were growth happens. I hope everyone in this class had a pleasant experience. This class was intellectually satisfying; I was able to read new literature and expand on my personal library at home. This class definitely inspired me to be on the lookout for other literary works– works that will more than likely end up on my archive. The texts, ideas and essays presented deepened my intellectual curiosity and restructured how I perceive the world– how I can engage with the world from this point on. I’m looking forward to working on my final project in hopes of it being something interesting and illuminating.

Thank you all, professor and colleagues for making my last semester at State a memorable one.