Could More Thoughtfully Crafted Books Change Our Relationship with Reading?
By Emilie-Noelle Provost | February 26, 2025 |
Books have been getting a lot of bad press lately. According to Penn America’s website, pen.org, more than 16,000 book bans have been implemented in U.S. public schools since 2021, 4,000 of which occurred in the 2023-2024 school year alone—more than at any other time since the McCarthy era of the 1950s. Public libraries have been under assault as well, with many people questioning their relevance and even advocating for their closure.
Estimates vary as to when books as we know them were first produced, but for the majority of time since the middle of the 15th century, when the invention of the printing press made them available to common people, books were considered precious objects by those who owned them.
The idea that books were treasures held true well into the 20th century, a fact I was reminded of recently when I pulled a few antique volumes off of a shelf in my living room. These clothbound gems, a couple of which were published in the mid-1800s, are marvels to behold.
The first in a two-volume set, Ruins of Ancient Cities by Charles Bucke, published in 1848 by Harper & Brothers of New York, features a detailed etching of ancient Athens across from its title page. The indentations made by the printing press on the book’s pages can still be seen if you look at its elegant serif typeset at just the right angle, a reminder that someone painstakingly set the type for all 360 pages by hand, a feat of craftsmanship few people living today could accomplish without error.
Perhaps even more impressive is Everyman’s Library: A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature by John W. Cousin. Published by E.P. Dutton & Co. of New York in 1910, the book’s endpapers feature a gorgeous, scrolling Edwardian design complete with a rendering of the Roman goddess Flora who symbolizes abundance. The publisher’s advertisement for the rest of the Everyman series at the beginning of the book is just as lovely, its type arranged to resemble a stylized tulip.
In my mind’s eye, I can picture the families who once owned these books, sitting in their living rooms, reading passages to one another aloud. Back when these hardcovers were published, reading often felt like an adventure. These books were prized possessions, not just because of their content, but because they were well made, beautiful to look at, and expensive to buy. Books like these said something about the people on whose shelves they were stored.
With their flimsy cover stock and recycled paper pages, modern-day print books, by contrast, often feel disposable. And although they are convenient to buy and read, and better for the environment, electronic books are like ghosts even in comparison to these, gone at the touch of a button.
Of course, the format of modern books makes them affordable and widely available to large numbers of readers. And the myriad types of other media readily accessible online makes it unlikely that books will ever regain the status they once enjoyed on a large scale.
Not unlike the American Arts and Crafts movement of the late 19th and early 20th centuries—a backlash against the Industrial Revolution and the mass production of goods—a growing number of people today are embracing artisanal products of all kinds. This can be seen in the increasing popularity of handcrafts such as woodworking and knitting, as well as with products like craft beer, which has, over time, given new life to heirloom recipes, fostered a sense of community among beer lovers, and revolutionized the way many people view and consume their brews.
It makes me wonder whether producing some titles with the type of workmanship and artistry that was once the norm might help bring people who love books, reading, and writing closer together, perhaps strengthening the influence and power of the written word in the process?
A few companies are already making books this way, including Colorado-based Juniper Books, which publishes eye-catching limited edition sets of popular novels. Juniper also produces heirloom quality books by commission through their Juniper Custom division. Eaton Press, located in Connecticut, creates leather-bound copies of classic novels, Bibles, and encyclopedias. And Thornwillow Press, based in upstate New York, crafts unique paper- and cloth-bound editions of several fiction and nonfiction titles.
These handcrafted books are not inexpensive, but thoughtfully made, quality books never were. At the very least, they’re sure to be around a while, perhaps passed down through generations for future book lovers to discover.
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What do you think it would take to make books and reading more appealing to more people?
Have your ideas about books, and what they should or could be, changed over time?
Emilie-Noelle Provost is a writer, editor, and author who lives in a northeastern Massachusetts mill town with her husband, daughter, and three crazy rescue cats. She is an avid hiker and a fan of European crime dramas.
Emilie-Noelle has worked as an editor for four magazine titles and has written and published hundreds of articles. She is the author of two novels. The Blue Bottle, a middle-grade adventure with sea monsters, was published by North Country Press in 2018. Her second novel, The River Is Everywhere, the coming-of-age story of a Franco-American teenager, was a finalist for a 2023 National Indie Excellence Award, a 2023 American Fiction Award, and a 2024 American Legacy Book Award. The novel was published in March 2023 by Vine Leaves Press.
She is currently working on a series of novels set in Île d’Orléans, a historic island in the Saint Lawrence River near Québec City.
[coffee]
I’m glad you are raising these questions! I love books and, up until a few years ago, gave books for nearly all gifts. I no longer do. I think the link between books and stories is disappearing. I think people have continued to crave story but have found it elsewhere, cheaper or free, as the line between fiction and nonfiction dissolves. Most AI ignores the line completely. But those stories are ever-changing and don’t promote humanity the way the stories of our books did. If we could somehow return to a shared idea of story (at least among our youngest), I’d have more hope for books. In the meantime, though I most often read on an e-reader for physical ease, I keep several physical bookshelves full. If physical books weren’t so powerful, the banning wouldn’t happen.
Broken Binding is another press that’s turning out eye-catching special editions, mostly of speculative fiction.
And all these new fancy editions with the gorgeous covers and sprayed ends seem to be selling very well. There will always be collectors willing to pay for special copies of their favorite books.
I’m glad to see this happening. I should hate for print books to die away altogether. But I don’t think they will. Anecdotally, I’ve heard that some Gen Z readers are turning away from their digital reads to enjoy physical books instead. This is heartening.
Hello Emilie-Noelle. To be honest, the only meaningful distinction I’ve ever made is between paperback and hardback books. The “gourmet” kind is for a different kind of book lover.
About the two questions you ask at the end of your post:
“What do you think it would take to make books and reading more appealing to more people?”
The only plausible answer I can think of is to raise the level of appreciation for language itself. I have no idea how to do that.
“Have your ideas about books, and what they should or could be, changed over time?”
When I taught college English courses, I switched from being a snob to welcoming any and all books. Reading itself seemed more important to me than what was read. But I’m beginning to revert to my earlier POV, and Ray Ramey’s “Flog a Pro” feature illustrates the reason.
After rigorous instruction by my father in the handling of books, I was somewhere in middle age before I could comfortably fold down the corner of a page to mark my place, even in a used paperback. Books per se were treasures. Now, alas, my library is about 80% paperback. I must say, though, did you guys take a look at those Juniper Books from Boulder? Might have to rethink my bookshelves.
Great post. I have a much treasured book case of old books in my study. Many of them belonged to my great-grandfather of when he was a book in the 890s and the titles filled with Jules Vern HG Wells and other timeless adventure stories reflect the interest of an imaginative late Victorian boy.
Over the years, I have also enjoyed infiltrating the old book sections of out of the way antique shops to find well worn but otherwise forgotten literary treasures. My criteria was straight forward: The book had to be enjoyably interested to read, legible and fairly priced. I have found many great books that way.
I love how they feel in my hand and I have spent many hours in an over stuffed chair reading them. Sadly, there seems to be a trend of these old books sold on eBay by the pound and assorted not by topic. Why? Not to be read, but to populate the faux libraries of the nouveau riche as they try look sophisticated while color coordaining their room.
My grandmother, an avid reader and learner whose education was interrupted at sixth grade when her mother gave birth to a boy after having six daughters (the family “scholarship” would go to a son, of course) would scold me for dog-earing a page by reminding me, “Books have feelings, too.” But I agree with Barry. I think it’s lovely to have some very special books very specially produced as collector’s items. There are a couple of dozen books, mostly but not all novels, that I re-read every few years, and I get these hardbound when I can, because I know they will fall apart otherwise. On the whole, however, it’s better to encourage reading of any kind than not reading. I’m concerned that making books more “special,” which inevitably means more expensive, will discourage many potential readers.
When I was a child, we inherited a huge wooden box of books from a cousin of my mothers. Some were in German. My older brother and I cherished there books for years. But when my husband and I moved to a smaller home, we had to give many of them to a resale shop in Des Moines, that was all about books. I know there were people in that store who would buy these treasures for a small amount. And even today, we have eight book cases in our home. Treasures.
Fabulous post. Older book covers are so beautiful.
I agree that books are discarded and not held as treasures – and their “ghost” presence on devices makes them seem even less valuable. Perhaps a deeper reverence and treatment of authors by publishers, editors, agents, and the reading public needs to start before the book’s release. Authors are viewed as commodities more than as talented humans. Remember nice notes and letters, even upon rejection of a manuscript? Now, much good work is ignored. Children’s books that are part of a long series or TV franchise may get grabbed up when a more literary (non-series) book may be cast off. Having run national literary initiatives and been involved in my own city, I have seen over the past 25 years or so that another issue is that “instant gratification” and social media have made the leisure act of becoming engrossed in a long read is waning, as the attention span is shortening. I don’t know the answer, maybe more book clubs, live book events? Or should we write shorter books? I have loved to read all my life, but I have about 20 books lying around half-read. We may just have to surrender to progress – life is full of more distractions and media choices. But I hope not. Thanks for sharing.
Limited editions, illustrated editions, slipcases and leather bindings…those are lovely things. So are French jackets on paperbacks, ragged trim, and other faux-antique touches.
Personally, I wish we could return to sewn bindings so pages would lie flat. But will any of that increase sales or the less measurable “respect” for books or the even less measurable “interest in reading”? I doubt that.
What generates interest in reading is great storytelling, such as is found in those deluxe editions. I’ll go for that even in a glued binding.
I love Ursula K. Le Guin’s essay, “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction.” She argues that story is not just about the hero—anything can be woven into the story’s text, to be an important and treasured part of it. When I ask my peers about their relationship to books (I’m gen Z), I hear they do still want to “curl up” with a book, “take a book” somewhere to read, and they’ll make gestures of holding one open in their hands, or closed under an arm. I think we still have the organs to perceive books as the textual bodies of stories.
One girl I met in college had a copy of The Hunger Games more thoroughly marked, bookmarked, tabbed, and written in than any other physical book I’d seen. She knew the book inside and out. For another person I know, the time he felt the deepest, truest closeness with a story was in middle and high school, reading Percy Jackson. He didn’t mark up his copy, he just broke it in more thoroughly than a shoe. In both cases, the body of the book also embodied the relationship between person and story.
Le Guin compares a story to a bag that we we use to carry things important for the journey, and many people in my generation—especially readers, especially fantasy readers—identify with travelers and wanderers, whether they see themselves more like mushroom-loving Hobbits or dedicated ronin. I notice a love of portable editions, sturdy editions, and minimalist editions, over most trade paperbacks. We also, like any other generation, want stories that help us understand others, ourselves, and the world. Both tastes seem to have to do with wanting something to take on the journey.
I just started reading “Swann’s Way” by Proust in a Modern Library hardcover issued in 1956. Even with a cracked spine—something I used to repair when I worked in a library—it’s a beauty. (But zounds, the minuscule type in the highly academic preface made my eyes cross. The body type is better.)
I love old hardcovers and have more than a few, and they do give an additional level of pleasure in the reading, but I have to agree with Don it’s the storytelling that pulls you fully in.
I admit I’m torn on this topic. Personally, I love bound books and have collected a few over the years. I do have an e-reader though. Some books on my e-reader I also have as a physical copy. The e-reader I can cart with me on trips, carrying a lot of books easily. Also, I think e-readers and YouTube audio books introduce people to books, who otherwise either couldn’t afford the books or wouldn’t read them; it increases access to reading. Some of those people may eventually invest in physical books. An organization like LibriVox supplies free audiobooks of classics like Jane Austen’s stories, to people who otherwise wouldn’t hear these stories. I will (hopefully) continue to collect physical, hard-bound books as I can afford to, and will cont. to cart around my e-reader on airplanes. :) I was lucky to have a mother who loved to read and took us to the local library, let us select books that she read to us; I suppose for me, I’m grieved over libraries. In the town where I live now, the local library is, unfortunately, known mainly as a hangout for drug-seekers.