Andrew David King observes and reflects on the images offered in Dog Ear:

Without readers there are no books in a meaningful sense; there are objects that have not yet entered the realm of the recognized. In order for books to mean, to express the meanings they hold or to hold any meanings at all, they must leave the perfection that the realm of untouched and unseen objects affords and enter the world of hands: hands that bend, hands that tear, hands that mark (and claim), hands that fold pages over to damage and thereby remember them.

The phenomena of dog-earing is only one proof of this—an incessant fetish with the physicality of the thing itself.

dog ear erica baumDog Ear
©Erica Baum

When I don’t think about the consequences, I’ll put a book down, spreading it out on the table, pages down, with the spine and covers up. At which point I’ll receive a verbal lashing from The Brunette who will then hand me a properly fabricated bookmark to note my resting place.

I’ve been tempted to dog-ear…but never books…it would be at too great a risk…