For years I've had my own way of marking books I read. This is not vandalism or graffiti practice. It's a record of a conversation, minutes of a meeting of minds. And in many books I've read there is the index at the back – not the one the publisher or writer compiled – but the one I compiled. The more significant ones are linked to a key index.
Where there's an "S" in the margin, near it the underlined word indicates subject; an arrow ( > ) indicates something that needs more thinking about; a vertical line that stretches to a few lines is a pasage I'll read again – and again probably. A "T", along with a biblical reference links the page to whichever biblical text is written in the margin. A "?" means I've a question for the writer, but I always add question marks tentatively – always good to assume that the writer knows what they're talking about, and even if I remain unconvinced, I've thought about it.
Today reading in a couple of places, here are three pencil marked extracts. The first an important reminder of life balance. The middle one is self-explanatory and one of those unsettling examples of serendipity cos I only read this page this morning. The last an example of Balentine's astute realism and psychological honesty about what suffering can do to people's thoughts about God:
We have sought truth, and sometimes perhaps found it.
But have we had fun?
(Benjamin Jowett, amongst other things the great translator of Plato)
The books that matter are those we have wrestled with, like Jacob and the angel, those we have questioned and argued with and been persuaded by. The best way to create a proper agonsitic encounter with any text is to mark it up.
(An Open Book, Michael Dirda, Senior Editor, Washington Post Book World)
Job's call for God to remember the sad state of his life is not an appeal for God to be more present with him, for in his judgement divine presence equates with human misery. What he seeks instead is for God to be more absent.
(Sam Balentine, Job, page 134).
For the record, I use a pencil when taking minutes of a meeting with a book. Recently the reloadable BIC gives a sharp fine line – nothing if not fussy, me.
Leave a Reply to Jason Goroncy Cancel reply