In a world of mass-produced media, in an information-flooded culture, books are taken for granted across the Western world, both for their style and content. A casual reader would hardly recognize differences in binding or font unless drawn attention to the glued spine or the use of serif fonts in nearly all their favorite publications. Bibliophiles hoard books into their personal libraries, sometimes faintly aware of their aesthetic appeal, yet more so taking advantage of their accessibility. Thanks to computer processors and rapidly-progressing technology, e-readers offer immense content and a variety of design styles at one’s fingertips.

Yet without the written word and its sturdy encasing, our monumental creations would carelessly alter at the whim of one’s memory. A few stories of oral tradition survived, but only when transcribed into a translatable language, such as Beowulf. Nearly all literary merit originates with the transcription of text and the mass reproduction thanks to the printing press, credited to Johannes Gutenberg in 1450. Similarly, the study of the history of books primarily starts with the famous machine, since documents were otherwise mainly scrolls without strong binding, and expands towards other steps in the printing and distributing process. A book only persists in the common media with the right “communications circuit that runs from the author to the publisher (if the bookseller does not assume that role), the printer, the shipper, the bookseller, and the reader” (Darnton 67). The reader then influences the author with critique, and because “authors are readers themselves” (Darnton 67). Even in our expansive world today, we can see how authors draw from their readership, anticipate their audience’s reaction to their work, and form a reader/writer literary community that pushes the cycle. Perhaps more of such exists today because of widespread media. Take John Green for example; he discusses his upcoming novels on his video blog series with his brother, and he can easily garner the reaction of his work by scrolling down the Youtube comments. As such, the full cycle persists.

According to Darnton, book historians take a singular section of the full cycle and analyze, then contextualize the part to the whole, particularly in the context of and to describe the economic, social, political, and cultural environment. In “What is the History of Books?”, Darnton offers the publishing history of Voltaire’s Questions sur l’Encyclopedia, particularly analyzing the role of the bookseller Rigaud, to vividly illustrate the full cycle and reveal crucial missing evidence that continues to leave holes in the book history narrative. The successful bookseller relies on the readership, just like the author, and Rigaud’s variety in his bookshop catered to varied audiences: “travel books, histories, novels, religious works, and the occasional scientific or philosophical treatise” (Darton 70). Similarly, the bookseller competes with other businesses, vying for dominance in the industry, just as one could find today with the liquidated Borders and expanding Barnes & Noble. Yet, Darton’s questions towards all part of the cycle, starting on page 75, reveal the heavy burdens of the study of the history of books. Some documents persist to answer the questions, but not enough data can be found to solidify conclusions about mainstream literary trends.

How does this all relate to the physical book you will present in class? How does it not? The interconnected cycle offers a rich history of the social climate. Voltaire’s success with Questions reveals an Enlightenment trend in the 1770s and 1780s through literature; Harry Potter’s massive sales reveal a cultural trend towards children’s literature, perhaps even as backlash against surging visual media. A bookstore, even today, detects what would be successful, orders in massive stock, and promotes its great wares. In a way, the book lives not because its creator bestowed life but because the seller validates its importance to the literary world. If none of the booksellers believed Questions or Harry Potter would be profitable, the books would never receive such high acclaim and awareness. Yet, the bookseller decodes its readership to make its purchases, and the readers encourage the authors to produce more.

Such logical interconnection does not falter in studies of print. Just like books, the printing press launched the development of fonts; with the advent of moveable type, printers could style text typefaces for massive reproduction. Themes of readability and simplicity dominate font style both in books and on a multitude of printed works. While mainstream books and newspapers do not deter from serif fonts, since the feet naturally separate the letters and make otherwise cramped text easier on the eyes, contemporary shorter printed media (signs, advertisements, etc.) abandoned the serif. Prior to the creation of Helvetica in 1957, a san-serif was introduced in the early 1800s, but popularity of san-serif hit spiraled in the 1900s with types such as Johnston (used by the Transport for London), Gill Sans (popularized as the typeface for LNER’s marketing materials), and Broadway. As recognized in the movie Helvetica, the font type dominated the print sphere because of its simplistic design. It offers no emotional tug and became the basis for other sans-serifs developed decades later, such as Arial, Century Gothic, and Calibri. In their lack of emotional attachment to viewers, the font exists and persists in the background, unknowingly beloved by millions of viewers because it does not call attention to itself. Since the font does not suggest anything, the designer can adjust it for their visual aesthetic, and the viewer can imbue their own meaning to the text. This modernist trend conflicts with post-modernist font trends that reject such simplicity; post-modernist fonts are intentionally designed with implied meaning. One could classify Papyrus as a post-modern font due to its apparent replication of ancient Egyptian scroll-work, adding a certain foreign and relic element to the text. No matter what type of font used, its careful design and craft reflects on its object quality, offering a narrative that pervades multiple media trends, from books to the world wide web.

Annotated Bibliography

“History of Books and Printing: A Guide to the Collections of the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building.” New York Public Library. n.p, n.d. Web. 05 Apr. 2013. http://legacy.www.nypl.org/research/chss/grd/resguides/bookhist/

The New York Public Library, located near Bryant Park in Manhattan, offers its collection on the history of books and printing in the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building. Their works are divided into several subcategories: Bibliographical Description of Books; General Surveys; Bibliographies; Antiquity: Alphabets, Writing Systems, Writing Materials; Medieval Period: The Codex an Manuscript Production; Art of the Book; Invention and Spread of Printing; Publishing and Bookselling; Books and Society; and The Book in the United States. Online, a dedicated scholar can look up all their resources according to category, along with their call number, to aid in further research at the library itself.

Hutchings, Emma. “Typeface Timeline Shows Us the History of Fonts [Infographic].” PSFK. n.p., 3 Apr. 2012. Web. 05 Apr. 2013. http://www.psfk.com/2012/04/history-of-fonts.html

This graphic timeline of the history of western typefaces primarily starts with the invention of moveable type with the printing press in 1440 by Johannes Gutenberg up to 2011 when Matthew Carter, who designed Georgia and Veranda, won the national Design Award for lifetime achievement. Notably, the sans serif first originated in the early 1800s, but only skyrocketed in the 1900s, especially when Helvetica was created in 1957. The timeline also notes significant font debuts in popular media, such as Catul for the Google logo, a modified Klavika Bold for Facebook, and Futura for The Social Network poster.

“The Centre for the History of the Book.” The University of Edinburgh. n.p., 19 Apr. 2012. Web. 05 Apr. 2013.
http://www.hss.ed.ac.uk/chb/

The Centre for the History of the Book, established in 1995 as a leading resource for advanced interdisciplinary research and study of the material culture of the text, offers a website to aid scholars in navigating its resources, showcase related events, and offer information for its postgraduate programs in the History of the Book. The Centre is affiliated with the University of Edinburgh, located in Scotland.

Helvetica. Dir. Gary Hustwit. Plexifilm, 2007. DVD.

This feature-length documentary on the development and prevalence of Helvetica exposes the culture, history, and art of print-making and text design, centered on the typeface of the same name. Candid interviews with leading graphic and type designers, such as Matthew Carter, who originally designed web fonts Verdana and Georgia, assist brief glances around New York City, where Helvetica continues to populate and persist across the bustling city, a history of the typeface, and insight on the battle between modernist and postmodernist type.

“Jessica Hische – From Berlin with Love.” Gestalten TV. Vimeo, March 2013. Web. 08 April 2013. http://vimeo.com/60556612

Jessica Hische talks to Gestalten TV about designing letters B, E, R, L, I, and N. She also discusses the balance of personality in font design, the value of serifs, and collaborating with other print-makers in a recent two-day Gestalten workshop. In conclusion, Hische finds font design a unique exposure of self and personal artistry, as each font design will end up differently depending on the designer. Hische, a letterer and illustrator, has been named a Forbes Magazine “30 under 30” in art and design, an ADC Young Gun, and one of Print Magazine’s “New Visual Artists.”

By Jaime Burns and Jessi Putnam

Note: Most of this is very much a work-in-progress. Since I did not receive word back from the owner of the button in time, I could not provide images or fully research the item. I also need to look back for a few extra bits of information in the Oracle. I might even have to research Manny’s, if that is where the button was really made.

Pat & George’s Lapel Button
New Paltz, New York
On the button reads “Pat and George’s” and “Make Orgies, Not War.” From such clues, the item places New Paltz at the heart of the counterculture movements in the mid-twentieth century, where the sexual revolution combines with dominant anti-war sentiment.

Physical Description:Cannot be determined.

Provenance: To be determined. Likely was either created at P&G’s or Manny’s between 1947 and 1980s, when the restaurant was known as Pat & George’s due to changes in ownership. Ed and Mike Beck, previous and current owners of the establishment, have no clue about the button and the whereabouts of the owners beforehand. I am currently attempting to contact the current owner of Manny’s and the owner of the lapel button in question.

Date of Creation: Between 1947 and 1980.

Narrative:
The button pulls New Paltz into the grand narratives of the Vietnam War and the sexual revolutions from the 1960s to 1980s. On October 14th, 1969, in the same year Edwin Beck purchased P&G’s, the Oracle publishes an open letter “sent to all New Paltz merchants concerning their role in tomorrow’s Vietnam Moratorium.” To protest the war in Vietnam, at a point when thirty-five thousand Americans have died and after five years of demonstrations and outrage, students initiated a movement to stop all town activity on October 15th, 1969. “Students and other citizens are going to suspend their normal activities by not attending school or work,” so town merchants were similarly encouraged to “not conduct business” and join with Poughkeepsie and many American communities in protest. The open letter gets more serious in its urgency for action and repercussion:

“This is part of a continuing nationwide protest that will begin on the 15th of every month with an additional day of protest each month the war continues. Thus, in November it will be a two day protest, in December three days, etc. However, we are only asking our merchants to close the FIRST protest day of each month, beginning at 12:00 noon.
Any store remaining open the first day of protest each month will be boycotted for a period of one week this month followed by an additional week each succeeding month.”

Such efforts join country-wide sentiments and actions against the war. On November 15th, 1969, more than five-hundred thousand people marched on Washington to protest the war, remaining the largest political rally in history and eliciting no response from the government. The war continued on until April 30, 1975, but the Vietnam Moratorium at New Paltz did not. (insert info about last mention of Moratorium in Oracle)

Not long after mentions of the Moratorium, Oracle issues in 1970 and 1971 feature campus events and discussions about sex in their “This Week On Campus” column. Little other news about sexual revolution activities exist in SUNY New Paltz news until the 1990s, when the school hosted a sex conference which included a lecture panel on sadomasochists, and instructional workshop on sex toys. However, mention of sex talks in the Oracle already shed light on the socially-progressive nature of the campus in the late 1960s and early 1970s, influenced by popular sex-liberating literature such as The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan (1963) and nationally-recognized protests such as the Stonewall Riots of 1969. Such cultural exposure allowed the “Make Orgies, Not War” button to exist, as more prudent towns would never hold such items.

The lapel button finally offers the deeply rooted connection of SUNY New Paltz to its surrounding community. After Edwin Beck took ownership of Pat & George’s in 1969, he hosted a party on-campus to introduce students to the restaurant. Subsequently, issues of the Oracle featured advertisements for Pat & George’s nearly every other issue. Nick Wesley, a disgruntled student writing in the Oracle on October 14th, 1969, expresses his disapproval of the Moratorium because “P&G’s is closing for the afternoon” and such would anger many World Series fans and picketers. Prior to that academic year, there is no mention of the establishment in the campus newspaper, confirming claims on the P&G’s website that Edwin Beck’s party at SUNY New Paltz reached out “to a wider audience and gave the students… a new place to call home.”

This button explains why there is a party life at SUNY New Paltz, why students today flock to P&G’s, McGillicuddy’s, Cabaloosa, Oasis, Snugs, and many other local institutions on weekend nights for their party fixes. These restaurants and clubs can owe their late night business to Ed Beck, an ambitious business man who converted his neighborhood bar into a local institution shared by townspeople and students alike. Because of his keen interest to invite the college students off campus, demonstrated by the liberal-minded button evoking the sexual freedoms and anti-war sentiments of 1970s college students, Edwin Beck converted New Paltz into the college town it is today, flourishing due to active student involvement at off-campus institutions.

References:
“A History of P&G’s.” P&G’s. 2012. Web. 29 March 2013.
Oracle, 1967 to 1971. Microfilm.
Skarda, Erin. “Moratorium Against the Vietnam War, Nov. 15, 1969.” Time. 28 June 2011. Web. 04 April 2013.
Wishnick, Ken. “The “Hello New Paltz” Show #113- Mike Beck.” Vimeo. 2011. Web. 29 March 2013.

Since I am less informed about the Village of New Paltz than my (soon to be) alma mater (which I did not know either; I doubt people know their alma mater until they graduate), I observed the New Paltz Wikipedia page in its similarities to the campus. Since New Paltz is a college town, formed by not just its history but the vigorous youth attracting business to shops and art and culture, I yearned to find connections between the two pages, especially since I know there are plenty of people who stay in the area after school, or students who make up a huge portion of the off-campus population.

Looking at the demographics sections on each page, there is a notable correlation between school and village racial populations (roughly 80% to 73% for White; 5% to 8% African American; 11% to 11% for Hispanic or Latino; 3% to 7% for Asian/Pacific Islander). While one could argue that New York State populations do not change dramatically, unless one lives in a highly urban or rural area, the similarities are striking when most of the SUNY New Paltz students hail from lower New York areas, such as the five boroughs, Long Island, and the lower Hudson Valley. From my perspective, I view SUNY New Paltz as racially diverse; my roommate, who attended a performance high school in the city, was initially shocked by the amount of white students on campus. Statistics could offer a fairly pale-skinned melting pot, but racial diversity remains a slightly biased subject, as a northern Westchester student will be exposed to different cultures than a city-dweller. Statistics strip cultural expression.

The demographics section (on the Village page) also reveals the heavy effects of college students living off campus, as I implied earlier. “The per capita income for the village was $11,644. About 11.8% of families and 36.9% of the population were below the poverty line, including 18.6% of those under age 18 and 12.2% of those age 65 or over. While this is one of the lowest median household incomes in the area, it includes large number of college students who attend SUNY New Paltz, many of whom have incomes that would place them below the poverty line.”

To which I say “obviously.” Nothing screams college town more than an incredibly low per capita income and 58.7% of a population consisting of 18-to-24-year-olds. Most students can hardly afford tuition, let alone pay for their monthly rent, let alone live on their own. Students drastically affect the village environment, perhaps largely on this economic level. There was no information on tax rates in the village (which is troubling on another level, since plenty of locals complain about high tax rates in the area), but one would assume lower cost-of-living to balance out low incomes. The other way likely exists since less of the population can provide taxes, many exempt as students and receiving wages well below the poverty line, and yet the village and town must keep up maintenance not just for its townspeople, but for the prospective students of SUNY New Paltz. The village apparently thrives on the large student population, as it makes such a large majority of residents, and the town must always keep up with the unstable population. None of that exists on either Wikipedia page. Most of the speculation depends on a single bit of information I mentioned earlier was not provided. Yet did that not explain the very complex dynamic of a college town?

While the village Wikipedia page includes several notations of its dependence on the student population, it hardly goes far enough. Similarly, the SUNY New Paltz page hardly interacts with the village environment, making no mention of the effect its students and activities have on the community. Since the college is such an asset to the village, albeit sometimes a burden, at least give credit to the town offering such academic hospitality. Then again, these are Wikipedia pages, not official reports. Still, it is incredibly apparent the two environments intertwine, and should offer such on the SUNY New Paltz page. SUNY Binghamton discusses transportation options on their Wikipedia page; why not discuss taxi services, escort services, and the Loop on the SUNY New Paltz page?

There are other small points of mention on the SUNY New Paltz page in particular. First, the “Campus theaters” subsection does not include the newly-renovated Julian J. Studley Theatre, connected to Old Main building. The page includes the completion of Old Main in the section above entitled “Campus,” but perhaps the authors could not detail the theater, which hosts on-campus theater performances (such as Into the Woods by Miami Theater Players in Spring 2012), choirs, lectures, and even the President’s Inauguration in Spring 2012. Second, “Clubs and traditions” includes Student Association and Residence Hall Student Association, but not the United Greek Association, which is the presiding body over the Greek life, even if it does mention fraternities and sororities. Third, not once did any part of the page mention the awesome outdoors environment during the beginning and end of the academic year. Such little facts about students lying down outside on nice days, playing instruments, or throwing a frisbee–it’s a whole new environment when the snow melts and the skies clear–would add a distinct personal touch to the page and resonate the name with the school many students adore.

When deciding whether to continue exploring my previously mentioned item, a tattered copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the object’s lack of inheritance or personal cultural significance stopped my initial drive short. After one post about a very well-known, non-antique item, I could no longer see what should be described. I focused in on how my copy reflected my memories with the prized item, rather than vivid details of the book itself. Even though I provided pictures of the novel, you could not inherently know that cracked embossed metallic silver-gold lettering for the author, series title, a “THE EXTRAORDINARY NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER,” and the writing on the spine still stood out from the smooth, semi-sheen outer book layer. You would not conceptualize the size of the novel: 7.5×6.5x.75 inches, which is small compared to the hardcover and later books in the series, but large for its time as a juvenile novel. You could not visualize the semi-coarse pages glued to the spine, as opposed to a much sturdier woven fashion, marking the paperback as a massed-produced, short-lived item rather than an object worthy of artifact-status centuries from now; I will prove those bookmakers wrong. You could not identify the typeface, even by looking through the pages. Despite several online ask.com users stating the back cover of each Harry Potter novel identified its typeface, a 12-point Adobe Garamond, such could not be found in my edition. I love its fallacy. The other font, used across the novel for chapter numbers on the table of contents, the dedications, numerous “HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER’S STONE”’s before the story unfolds, chapter titles, the two-line drop-caps, page numbers, and headings, reveals the sheer magic of the novel, conjuring new font styles for visual delight. Mugglenet, a well-established fan-based Harry Potter website, provides a nearly-identical font called Lumos for all the obsessed Harry Potter fans. The same font exists on the cover page and spine’s metallic words, except “Harry Potter”: mimicking-font “Harry P” on Mugglenet almost matches the unique typeface except for more stubbly jagged lines for the electric-style stem of the “P.”

I also did not describe the illustrations within the pages. At the beginning of each chapter, true to its identity as a children’s literature book, a black-and-white picture faintly hints at what is to come in the following pages. As if US illustrator Mary GrandPre set fine charcoal to the pages, the thick grayscale illustrations match her front-page style of skillful shading and blending, masking grand portions of the pictures in darkness. Unlike the much more realistic illustration on the front cover, the smaller chapter pictures feature thicker outlines, oftentimes identifying Harry by little more than their body outlines, a few clothing details, and hair, such as the illustration for Chapter Twelve, the Mirror of Erised.

While my pictures provided a familiar view of the book to many in our age group, sometimes referred to by columnists and fans as the Harry Potter Generation, there are several distinctions between the American paperback versus hardcover illustration. Behind the embossed metallic font, the American front cover features a young black-haired boy in a yellow and red striped shirt, blue jeans, and a red cloak hanging from his neck, flying on a thin, wooden broom through two stone pillars, decorated by an intricate swirling design. His arm extends to catch a tiny gold ball with white wings, the gold hue and yellow blur of movement nearly blending into the brown stone. Behind the boy, a unicorn dashes from the middle out towards the woods on the left side of the cover; three beastly dog faces growl from the shadows of a castle on the right; small purple shadows of people on brooms stand against the pink-purple sky. While a golden “Harry Potter” stands out from the illustration, the rest of the title disguises itself in the middle archway. At the bottom, behind the embossed “J.K. Rowling,” a slightly opaque blue-and-red diamond strip covers the bottom pillar rungs and the thin grass landscape; the spine repeats the design. The front cover image prevails across most American copies, paperback or hardcover, although newer editions are significantly lighter, as if a graphic designer turned up the brightness and contrast in Photoshop. The back cover, differing from its hardcover counterpart, gives way to the light-hearted summary written upon the green drape (pictured to the right). Behind the drape, a dark hand decorated by peach cloth holds a similar-color candle on a brass candle-holder; the bright candlelight hardly illuminates the purple-brown blur behind. I do not believe anyone knows who this mysterious man might be, especially since this back cover only exists on paperback editions. As many more people turn to hardcover editions for material examination—perhaps because of promised longevity of the artifact—everyone recognizes Hedwig and Dumbledore on the back of the version’s book sleeve. Although the peach-clocked man behind the green drape exists on the front-inner flap of the hardcover sleeve, Google Images reveals the figure’s arched bare foot, as if tiptoeing to his next destination. The figure, although still mysterious, could be linked up to the actions within the book, as several characters snoop around the castle at night to find the Sorcerer’s Stone.

In contrast, the UK Bloomsbury edition of the first Harry Potter book features a much more simplistic illustrative and type style. The front page, with title, illustration, and front-page praise divided by thin green lines, distinctly separate images from words. “HARRY POTTER,” written in a gold Times New Roman, and “and the Philosopher’s Stone,” written in a small, white italic script, sit upon a solid crimson background. Underneath, an orange oval encapsulates a “J.K. Rowling” in a black Times New Roman-esque font style. The illustration of Harry Potter in front of the Hogwarts Express on Platform 9 and 3/4, evokes a distinct cartoon style with thick lines, bright colors, and unrealistic indications of time, place and environment. The Hogwarts Express, written in gold against a large green plate on the front of the red train, overtly proclaims its presence; the “9 3/4” sign towards the top looks like a piece of parchment floating in the sky; and stars within the smoke evoke magic rather than a realistic portrayal of stars with bright colors and skewed angles. The first back cover featured a wizard named Wizzy, created by illustrator Thomas Taylor and completely unrelated to the book content, donning a very odd wardrobe of purple and brown, carrying a large brown book, and smoking a pipe. The book description is just as silly: “Harry Potter thinks he’s an ordinary boy — until he is rescued by an owl, taken to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, learns to play Quidditch, and does battle in a deadly duel. The Reason: HARRY POTTER IS A WIZARD.” After a few editions, Wizzy is replaced by Albus Dumbledore holding a Puter-Outer, and the summary receives slight renovation, though nothing compared to the eloquent, enticing summary on the US editions. Of course, by the time the novel reached the US, Americans were already ecstatic about the story, buying UK editions. The US cover reflects achieved fame, while the UK cover expresses a small hope in a long, complex children’s story nearly unprecedented across the globe.

Many differences between the UK and US editions amassed plenty of critical examination and pages of online content. As the most apparent change between the versions, Scholastic altered the title from “Philosopher’s to “Sorcerer’s” when buying US copy rights because the publishing company believed no child would read about a “philosopher.” America is also not as familiar with the legend of the “philosopher’s stone,” a legendary alchemist substance capable of turning base metals to gold or silver and as an elixir of life (just as described in the novel). Otherwise, one of many sources for each word change between the books can be found here at the Harry Potter Lexicon, another fan-made website for Harry Potter needs.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the first novel in a children’s literary phenomenon inspired by a train ride from Manchester to London, resides in millions and millions of homes across the country and the globe, inspiring young minds to read and write with its wonderful, fantastical tale. My book and I are just a part of the masses, yet its fourteen years of wear mark the 309-page novel as an artifact in my library collection—it similarly outdates nearly all objects I own—and is perhaps my most prized possession.

The book marks a muddled childhood and a certain dream. I remember sitting beside my mother, listening to her read an eclectic collection of stories for a seven-and-a-half-year-old. The Magic Tree House series decorated many near-21st-century family bookshelves. I later learned that educators labeled The Giver as a seventh-grade book. In the summer of 1999, before second grade, Mom came home with this now-aged copy of the Sorcerer’s Stone, saying the children’s book displayed in front of Barnes and Nobles amassed rave reviews. I recognized “Harry Potter” since I saw the Chamber of Secrets in my school library only a few months before. While reading the final chapter, “The Man with Two Faces,” Mom confessed she could not read any further, complaining it was “too long” and had “too many characters” to remember. I finished the book that night on my own. From then on, I read every story, no matter the difficulty, by myself.

Examining the contents of my copy, and searching the Internet for well-known facts about the famous book series, I know what I just described is impossible. On the fourth page, on the other side of the title page, at the very bottom, reads the following: “First Scholastic trade paperback printing, September 1999”: that is when I entered second grade. A quick look on Wikipedia will show that Chamber of Secrets entered the US in June 1999; I doubt my small upper-Westchester elementary school library would receive a children’s book about witches and wizards so quickly before I left for the summer. Even if my memories are somehow a lie, that I fabricated details about some of the most vivid moments of my life, my drive to write exists, and I accredit my near-fifteen-year passion to this little tattered book.

Already, I delved into the appearance of the nearly fifteen-year-old object. The cover and spine display considerably light wear-and-tear, given its age, and the edges are tattered and curled. On the front, a thin line runs between “SORCERER’S” and the bottom hem of Harry’s shirt, matching the several crease lines on the spine. The largest tears are upon the spine; while exposing the first few pages on either side, the curling edges threaten to release all its contents.

On the inside of the front cover, a green Post-It note covers a sticker of a young, short-haired girl in a white nightgown reading a novel, surrounded by copious amounts of blankets and pillows, a window behind providing fair lighting for her literary escape. On the bottom, within a slightly opaque box, reads “Jaime” in bright pink gel ink; a very poor drawing of a heart in the same color ink accompanies the name. In my early elementary-school days, nearly all of my books proudly displayed this label inside their front covers, yet I could not say where you would find these other books. I must have not touched them for years. The Post-it note, a fairly recent addition to the relic, holds some bullet notes for my Classic Juvenile Fantasy Literature final exam. On the other side, random pencil scribbles distract from the “Praise for J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” A tiny pink splotch towards the bottom proves the child filling her name on the opposite page did not wait for the ink to dry.

The yellowed pages, due to time or my father’s cigarette smoke floating around our household, make the book stand out from any other novel or collection on a bookshelf. Open to the beginning, and detached sheets which describe the Dursleys and their very strange day, will fall into your hands. Bend the book; the pages and binding, used to curving in unnatural waves, will give in to your force. Slide your fingers against the sheets–work them like a flip book–and you will find random folds on the top of pages, notation of numerous readings. Good luck trying to keep the first few pages intact.