![]() ![]() ![]() Maybe somebody’s figured out a way to do it without making a mess, but I’ve never been able to. You dare not write anything on those pages. I’m not the first person to point out that the onionskin paper used in the Library of America hardcover series is a bummer. You’re going to need those sentences later. Reading any of these nineteenth-century supremo-supremo novelists without marking the best bits is insanity. But heaven is founded on the idea that some books really do demand it. Heaven knows not every book asks to be underlined. You can’t, unless you like big ol’ gobs and smears of ink at the end of each stroke. And you can’t use pens with runny noses that are gonna form solid droplets at their tips. The effect can be as bad as that of a highlighter. Bloodred ballpoints are usually too much. Also, you probably don’t want the ink’s color to dominate the page. You can’t use inks that are gonna show through. When I was first underlining, I didn’t understand. Should it touch the bottom of the letters on the line, or should you give it a little space there? Depends.Īnd then there’s the ink. ![]() Then there’s the question of where exactly the line should go. They make little stubby ones for this purpose. How do you do it right? Use a ruler, for starters. If you do it right, though, you create a precious heirloom. You find out quick that if you do it wrong, you ruin the book. ![]() Nobody shows you how to do this, and it’s a pity. A few words about an underappreciated piece of reading technology. ![]()
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