Life as a used college book

            The first person to buy me was a studious English major. She referenced me all the time, took notes, and I was never far away from the Shakespeare plays I explained. She understood I, Shakespeare A-Z, was a vital resource in understanding the Bard’s great words, plots, and thoughts. She wrote in my margins in her loopy and elegant handwriting, underlined words, and starred sections. I would have loved to have lived on her bookshelf till the end of time. But, alas, it could not last. She changed her major to communications and no longer had the time to enjoy a good struggle with a great book. She sold me, and several other books.
            The second person who bought me was a man, and as far as I could tell women were what he went to college to study. I think he only took Shakespeare to use the Bard’s cleverly thought out lines to impress women. And the women were dumb enough to fall for it. I mean, “Sweets for my sweet” is from Hamlet, a tragedy! But he couldn’t memorize more than a handful of words anyway. And he never tapped into my knowledge. Why buy a book for a class if you are not even going to read it?! Needless to say, he sold me at the end of the semester without a thought.
            The third person who bought me was a lazy English major. Yes, she would reference me, but not as much as I would have liked. Mostly it was only for the major essay she had to write that she read me. She would dog ear my pages, use highlighters, and all sorts of degrading things. She kept me after that semester, but all I did was take up room on her overcrowded bookshelf. After a few years of being forgotten, she donated me to a library.
            I am now referenced often. The only problem is that my wear is apparent. My spine is breaking, my pages are stained and bent, and tape holds me together. I am thankful for being a library book, but please take better care of us. Don’t jam us in backpacks, spill coffee on us, or sneeze in us (that is the worst of all). We do have feelings too, after all.

 

I have wanted to do this one for a while. I guess I loved buy used books in college. Not just because they were cheaper. I like the wear of a used book (and I like the feel of a real book. Maybe one day I’ll give in to buying and electronic reader, but I think it would be a sad day for me.). I love reading the notes other people have written in them, looking at what other people thought was important or worth noting. It makes me wonder who that person was. What about you? Do you ever get happy or mad about a book being all marked up?

Of course now I can’t find it, but there’s a short movie about a guy who buys a book and is annoyed at the pages being marked up, but he ends up loving the notes in the end. He finds the woman who owned the book before him and writes her a letter. They become pen pals as he leaves for World War I. In the end, they fall in love (of course). Do any of you know the name of it? It’s like “Book, ________, and  __________” maybe? This is going to bug me now. . . Anyway, it’s good and you should watch it (actually, I think it might be based on a short story. If that is true, you should read it).