Sarah's Books - Used & Rare

Bookplate update:  I have begun the process of affixing bookplates to books.  At the local art supply store I found some excellent ph-neutral pva adhesive and am using that to tip in each bookplate.  Many interesting choices must be made along the way, and small problems dealt with.

First, even though I enjoy other people's markings in old books, I have to say I struggled to overcome my own long-held belief that books mustn't be defaced (by me personally) in any way.  I think the only time I ever wrote my name in a book or scribbled in a page's margin was when I was young, and once in college, in one particular book.  And I did have that well-known 1970s generic bookplate of a behatted hobbit/garden gnome figure in profile, walking and reading a book at the same time.  I remember receiving a gold box of them as a gift, and I wrote my name on a few and used them, but it's been a long time since I've come across one in any book I still own.  However I am now confident that if I still have such a thing it will eventually come to light, as I work my way through all the books in the book room, shelf by shelf!  Anyway, I did deal with this aversion to defacing my books simply because the new bookplates I now have are of such high quality that I convinced myself that I am adding something valuable to a book each time I affix one of Andy English's superb little wood engravings inside it.  Not going to lie, though - I still have a faint frisson of doubt, each time!  Will I regret this, in decades to come...?  No, I don't think I will.  Because this feels celebratory.

Second, when I bring a small stack of books to my work table and open them, I am almost always surprised by what I encounter within.  So far:  notes from friends, cards, and inscriptions and signatures from previous owners or best of all from the authors themselves.  And, decorative endpapers.  So, the dilemma immediately becomes - where to place the bookplate so it best complements whatever else is happening inside the book.  I think that putting it smack dab in the middle of an endpaper can be too much.  It takes up a lot of real estate and draws attention to itself and can be visually cut in half by the jacket flap, if there is one.  I looked at some of my other books for guidance.  Which I didn't find, because other people seem to have put their bookplates any old place they wanted.  Okay then, I suppose that is guidance in and of itself!  I am aiming for consistency as I go, and have for the most part settled on the upper left-hand corner of the pastedown endpaper, nestled into that pleasing 45-degree angle where the endpaper covers the book cloth.  I like this spot, because if the book has a dust jacket the dust jacket flap protects and even hides the whole bookplate, just enough for it to be a surprise of sorts.  But again, I have had to adapt and overcome my borderline obsessive tendencies to allow for what each book in hand calls for.  With the decorative or pictorial endpapers in particular.  Right now I am working my way through some art books, and many of them have elaborate paintings or illustrations by the artists reproduced on their endpapers.  And I don't want to obscure them or cover up an important element in that overall image.  Luckily, so far, there is always at least one corner that is more or less empty, either in the front or back of the book.   Which leads to... 

Third, how to glue each bookplate in.  This time I did get significant guidance from some of the books I own that already have other people's bookplates in them.  I find that I definitely prefer the tipped-in-along-one-edge vs. the completely-glued-down.  I have a small paintbrush and some scrap paper, and it's becoming easy to go through the necessary steps with each book:  open the book, fold back the dust jacket if there is one, decide where the bookplate will go and position it so I feel confident about both placement and visual appropriateness, then turn the bookplate over, place it face down on a clean area of the scrap paper, swipe a small amount of adhesive from the bottle on to the brush, gently brush the adhesive along the top edge (or sometimes along the bottom or side instead, depending on what else is already happening on the endpapers), being careful to use a thin layer and brush from the bookplate outward on to the scrap paper, not the other way around, so no wayward glue bloblets can work their way on to the front of the bookplate by accident.  Then quickly put down the brush and pick up the bookplate, turn it over, place it carefully where it wants to go, and utilize that second or two before the adhesive takes hold to make sure the bookplate is squared up with the edges of the endpaper and the book cover itself.  Then press gently down on the bookplate with a folded scrap of paper towel, over the glued area, to ensure good adhesion and flatness by removing any trapped air.  This step also will pick up any stray bit of glue along the bookplate's edge, so I proceed with extreme caution.  Then the book rests open for a few minutes to allow the adhesive to completely dry.  I am leaving about a half inch of space between the bookplate and the endpaper's edges.  Like this, in my copy of The Selected Writings of John Marin, edited by Dorothy Norman (Pellegrini & Cudahy 1949, a decent first edition in a chipped jacket):

     
This all sounds hopelessly obsessive and solipsistic, I do realize.  I mean, beyond beyond.  But in my own defense, should anyone decide to take me to court and judge me for it, I will say that this contemplative, repetitive task - the snail's pace of it and the timelessness of the project in general (booklovers and collectors and librarians have been doing this very thing for centuries! and I am now part of that continuum!) - is frankly joy-making.  I am quietly and deeply happy, as I am when I am painting, come to think of it, making all these small decisions again and again, while engaged in this bookish work.  It is a relief and a delight to turn off the news and turn to this instead - this news of the day.  Placing a bookplate inside a book feels like putting a stamp on a letter, a letter to some future person I do not know but love anyway, with all my heart.  A gentle, wonderful surprise, for that someone, that booklover of the future.  And maybe even to my own future self as well?  Because in years to come, when I take a book down from the shelf and open it up, I know I will smile when I see these bookplates looking back at me.