Doesn’t it feel like some books are too sacred to write upon? I go back and forth, and have various procedures. I’m embarrassed to say that for my favorite books (some of the ones I use for class) I have two copies on the shelf–one desk copy in which I’ve written, and one pristine. I always want the visually uncluttered reading experience, when possible…or at least I fantasize that somehow I can go back to the time of that first reading, and experience it again.
Now it strikes me that it’s like a specific cone of melon gelato I had in Italy last month. The melon gelato was so good, I immediately wanted to experience that cone again. I sit at my desk in Ohio and regret not going back for another, but it would not have been the same.
(I think the gelato was here: http://www.gelateriamillevoglie.it/ilgelato.html)