I am very pleased today to welcome my neighbor Jen of Momalom over for a chat. I first met Jen and her sister Sarah when they launched their Five for Ten event last fall. I had just started blogging and I was most fortunate to be welcomed into their warm, wise, and wonderful community of writers. Jen and Sarah write about the real stuff at Momalom, and they do it very well.
Thank you, Jen, for sharing a piece of your writing here today.
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Should you judge a book (or your sister) by its cover?
I received an e-mail from a friend a few nights ago that brought me back to summer vacation, almost five years ago. Not to the beaches or sitting in a hammock reading, or to introducing B to his extended family for the first time. But to a time when I was in judgment of my sister’s behavior. Toward a book.
The e-mail: “Do you save the dust jackets that come with your children’s books? I take them off because I know they’re going to just get ripped. But then I have no idea what to do with them…”
Around the time that Sarah’s oldest son Jamis turned 2 and my oldest was a few months old I watched her remove the dust jacket from a brand-new hardcover picture book, throw it in the garbage and hand the book to Jamis. I remember this so clearly that I can see her open the trash can lid while balancing Jamis on her hip. And I can feel the same shock and puzzlement I felt upon seeing this very strange occurrence. Books to me are sacred. I could not imagine why in the world she would do this. I didn’t say a thing. I don’t know why, but it probably had to do with needing to nurse the baby or the fact that there were a ton of people and balloons around for Jamis’s b’day. The scene passed through my mind a few times over the next several months, but I gave the matter no serious thought. I had a new baby and another one on the way already. There were many other things to focus on.
And then, at some time that I cannot pin down during the next few years, I started removing the dust jackets from my own children’s books. In fact, in the kids’ closet, there is a hefty pile of dust jackets. On the top shelf. Awaiting, what? A picture frame? An art project?
I am tempted to say that our approaches to dust-jacket protection (or elimination) probably illustrate quite well a few fundamental differences in Sarah and me. She is carefree. I tend to evaluate to a fault. I hold on to things. She lets go, with the confidence that things are replaceable if she later changes her mind. She is comfortable with her own decisions, even if they are different from everyone else’s. I question myself. Constantly. Wondering if I’m doing the right thing. I mean, is this the right way to phrase this sentence?
I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to Sarah my utter disbelief (and, honestly, judgment) regarding her treatment of hardcover books. Now we’d both laugh, of course. This is a silly example of the many ways in which, as mothers, we started out on our own paths and have since come together. With the same destination in mind: happiness and success for our children. Regardless of the state of their well-stocked home libraries.
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{ 53 comments… read them below or add one }
I find this quite amusing. We adore books around here, but it never would have occurred to me to remove a dust jacket. On the other hand, I don’t recall having dust jackets on the books for my kids when they were little. They would’ve been gross, yes. Nor do I recall throwing away a dust jacket (I wouldn’t), so… either they all disappeared into the secret time-warp-dimension where all the socks go, or this is just one more example of the blur that those first 5 years were, with only two little boys close in age, and not three!
I have a sibling. He and I are as different as they come. What I find wonderful is how you and Sarah have come together in so many things – even with your differences – and in particular over parenting and writing. Quite lovely.
And, Wolfie, it took six kids for us to get to the point where our differences aren’t bigger than our fundamental relationship. I’m so glad we got here, even if it meant losing a few book jackets along the way.
I take off the book jackets for my own books, but can’t say I’ve done the same for my kids. Actually I can’t be sure there are any books in their vast library that even have those covers, now I’ll go home and look. I suspect our library at the moment is filled with board books and soft covers. Can I just say though that I am quite envious of the relationship you have with your sister. Whenever I read Momalom and am reminded of it, it gives me a little pang. My sister and I are not close, we are in fact quite opposite. Jen, I am a lot like you. I suspect though, my sister would describe me differently.
Great post!
Christine,
We weren’t always best buddies! I distinctly remember pulling out clumps of Sarah’s hair when we were kids. And, as adults there were a number of years when we didn’t talk at all. And then, the kids started coming… It’s more complicated than that, of course, but that’s the basic underlying truth. Our own kids brought us closer than we’ve ever been.
When my kids were small we had a huge wicker basket where the books lived. I think if there were dust covers, they slowly wore away with time and were discarded. My sister is 19 mos older than me and we’re like night and day; she kept the books on a shelf in the closet. I think you and Sarah are so lucky that motherhood has given you this wonderful connection.
I love the wicker basket idea. But, I think we’d need, um, about five baskets per room… All five in this house are book-a-holics!
My youngest son removes the dust jacket when he’s reading a book then replaces it when finished. I never knew anyone to do this. He just claims that it gets in the way. At first, it drove me nuts. Now I’m used to it.
My sister and I, however… ugh.
I love the respect for books here. Remove it and replace it. Actually, I tend to do that. But I didn’t consciously realize it until now. And, I don’t think I started doing so until I had kids. Maybe now because it takes me SO LONG to finish reading a book, it’s worth removing the cover.
I am a “no dust jacket” person. I feel like they get in the way, so I remove them. However, now that the question is raised I am trying to remember what I do with them. I know I haven’t thrown them all away, so they must be sitting somewhere! (Goes to show you my organizational prowess.)
Growing up, my step-sister and I were extremely different. Now we are both Mom’s and she is my best friend as well. Although I have no idea if she removes dust jackets!
Ask her about the dust jackets! (She’ll probably look at you like you’re nuts, but I’m curious to know her answer!)
I love this post, Jen: the bit about the book jackets and the way you connect it to a mini-analysis of your relationship with Sarah.
Like you, I remove the dust jackets from my boys’ books; we also have a box of them on the shelf in their closet. Why? I am now asking myself this question. I’m also like Erica’s son: I remove the jackets from books I’m reading and then replace them when I’m ready to reshelve them or give them away. Why, again?
No sisters for me. I get along well with both of my brothers, though. My older brother treats books with the same reverence I do; my younger brother doesn’t really read much. (Gasp!) :)
Anne Fadiman has a great collection of essays on books and reading called Ex Libris: very insightful and quite relevant to this post.
Kristen, thanks for the link to Ex Libris and indiebound.org. The indie book store near our house close and I miss picking up the newsletter. I never stopped to think to look for them online. Normally, I don’t spend much leisure time on the computer… the past few days have been an exception. My reading list continues to grow but I’m stuck in my current book. I have a thing against not finishing a book. Is it ok to quit after 269 pages?
For a long time, I forced myself to finish every book I read, but now I follow a 50 page rule: if I’m not hooked after 50 pages, I reshelve it for another time. I’ve actually ended up loving a few books that I had to reshelve (e.g. Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead) because they just didn’t speak to me the first time I found them.
269 does pages feels like a lot. I guess it depends on how many pages you have left. :)
Love Anne Fadiman. And Ex Libris. It’s on my special bookshelf, with all of my other books about books!
I haven’t read Ex Libris yet… but I was very moved by The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, and last year had the chance to meet Anne Fadiman. She’s so lovely, very down-to-earth and approachable. A great combination of talent and modesty.
Kristen, you have such great neighbors! Thank you for sharing this with us.
Reading this makes me wish I had a sibling, and that I kept dust jackets for art projects, although who am I kidding? Neither of which will materialize in this lifetime.
Maybe that’s why I’ve hung on to every word that inspirational bloggers like yourselves have said. Through motherhood and our passion for writing, I’ve imagined this kinship between us that carries me through some of my darkest hours, perhaps just like a sibling would. Or at least this is what an only child imagines it to be.
Oh no! Don’t hang on every word. Sometimes we’re just trying to fill up a blank page!
I could never let go of a book dust jacket! (Though I take every opportunity to buy paperback copies.)
When we were little, we removed the dust jacket before reading, and then put it back when it was time for reshelving. That’s what I do for my books and for Jack’s.
I’ve always struggled with getting rid of things, though I’m happy to say that all of our moves over the past four or five years have helped curb my tendency to hold on to the miscellany. Deciding to move into one room while building onto our house really helped, too!
I could stand to move into one room. Except, I don’t think my books and I would fit. Hmm…
The first thing we do around here when a new book comes home us remove the dust cover and throw it away. It gets in the way. It gets ripped. They cause clutter. I felt bad the first few books we “dismantled” but got over it quickly. I definitely think it says something about a person if they keep the cover on, take it off and save it or throw it away. Not sure WHAT it says, but something for sure. I just like things EASY and uncomplicated and tossing out the covers is just that. But it also must say I don’t respect things as much since the books certainly don’t last as long or look as pristine once the covers are gone… Hmmm… More thought needed here!
My brother I’m sure is a “keep the cover on” type. We are as different as they come so I assume this is just another example!
Such an interesting post Jen. Love it!
I hear you about easy and uncomplicated. That definitely plays a part in the dust jacket scenario, and in so many other aspects of calm mothering.
Okay, I am the first admit that this may be quite silly, but I feel the need to explain myself and the case of throwing out a book dust jacket.
Yes, I am the more carefree sister. Yes, I have learned to ‘let go’ probably a bit easier in my lifetime than my sister. However, I treasure a book as much as my sister. And I treasure that book art just the same. But the situation called for a quick action. (Funny that it is a moment I don’t for the life of me remember.) I was nearly 2,000 miles away from home with my first-born and my husband, surrounded by family and birthday presents and cake. In the first three years of my motherhood I think I learned even more about letting go and decisiveness than I’ve ever truly realized.
To me, this piece speaks to the differences between my sister and me, but even more so to the fact that motherhood has narrowed any rift that those differences ever caused. We are not the same mothers, partners or friends. We are still so very different. But our bond has risen above all of that, as it should with family, I think, and for that I am forever grateful.
Oh, and just so you know, I, too, have a stash of book dust jackets. They are tucked under my oldest boy’s bed in a plastic container that also houses the most brilliant pieces of his creativity since he was a toddler. Is there and art project ahead for these dust covers? Will they go back on the books once the toddlers are all grown up? Who knows. But they are there. You can be sure. It would appear that I my ability to let go depends on the circumstance. I think that could be true for many of us.
(whoops. sorry for taking up so much space. as i mentioned to kristen last night, i am forever long-winded. blame my father, ok?)
Isn’t it funny that we were in that strange vacation house, one big room downstairs, and I remember this so clearly and you have no recollection at all? Blame dad for your long-windedness (and mine, too!) but thank him and Geege for our love of books, dust jackets or no dust jackets. For both of us, it’s about the books more than the dust jackets, of course. And I never meant to imply differently!
And while we’re at it, I’m blaming my dad for my long-windedness. It’s definitely him. He is always the last to leave a social gathering. If someone is left, he’ll go talk to them. No matter what time it is. Unbelievable.
All these comments are making me wish I were more creative so I could come up with something lovely to do with all of the book covers we have on the closet shelf – simple box frames hung on the walls of the boys’ room?
I just had to shudder when I read that part about putting the dust jackets in the trash. Yikes! I try to keep the jackets on the books (they’re there for a reason, right?), but when they start falling off or getting ripped, I put them in the closet…for what? I did recently (now that my kids are older) restore most of the dust jackets to their books. Even my husband intentionally takes the dust jackets off a book he is reading. It just sits there…getting dusty…while he meanwhile gets shmutz from his breakfast all over the book’s cover. It drives me insane! So I’m totally with you on the books are sacred camp.
Andrea, I’m laughing about the food schmutz on books. Ew. HATE that. And yet, I love so much that my kids love books and have to have them by their sides all the time. It seems strange to set rules around books, so we’ve been known to mop spilled milk off of a favorite!
I love this, but I can’t figure out what kind of mom I’ll be!!!! I actually want to be a Jen, but I think I’ll probably be a Sarah. But maybe I can come up with a way to rationalize throwing them out. Like, “REAL books don’t have dust jackets. Dust jackets are an invention of the sales-focused marketing industry.” Or something. Then again, I do have stacks of empty CD cases somewhere. So maybe I’ll have a dust jacket shelf, too.
Lauren, I love this. “I actually want to be a Jen, but I think I’ll probably be a Sarah.” I think a combination of the two of us would be pretty interesting, actually. Sometimes it feels like we share a brain and access different parts of it for different scenarios. But, the bottom line is that our fundamental views of mothering are the same: It’s about the kids. Happy kids. Healthy kids. Thriving kids. Successful kids. We keep our focus there, and when we get unfocused, we have each other to set the track straight again.
Same here with the CD jewel cases. Why am I hanging on to those?
I always save the book jackets, thinking I’ll put them back on when the kiddos are older and have a little more appreciation for the books.(Probably wishful thinking on my part!)
As for how we “treat” books differently, my husband thinks they are pristine, fragile even. I like nothing more than a book that’s been enjoyed and savored, with dog-eared pages and a tattered cover. (I don’t intentionally set out to make my books this way, but I’m OK, a little pleased even, when it happens.) On our shelves and shelves of books, you can easily tell which are “his” and which are “mine.” Guess he’s got resale value going for him! =>
I love dog-eared books that get way because of the love they inspire. I have a few books that are precious to me, but all books are for reading in this house! (See my spilled-milk comment above!)
I remember reading this one when it originally “aired” and it made me laugh then, too. Listen here, I should be the official authority on the rules of dust jacket removal since I am a) a mother of 2 little boys who love books b) a teacher of 13 years who has taught reading c) a former librarian! and d) an extremely anally retentive person who likes to follow rules and likes things JUST SO. Personally, I think the dust jackets are allowed to be removed, and probably should be, as long as the cover is the same as the dust jacket. Now if you remove the dust jacket and the cover is just one of those plain ones with just a title, then keep the jacket. There. Case closed.
Oh, Liz. Thank you, my long-time bloggy friend. I love your specific rules about dust jackets!
Leave it to Liz to settle this debate once and for all! :)
I’m a dust-cover-leaver-on-er. Husband is a taker-offer-while-reading, then a put-er-back-on-er when finished. Don’t know what we’ll do with IEP because right now he only gets cardboard books.
However, my favorite thing about this post is your casual mention of an art project. What a cool wall hanging it would make to have the titles and images cropped from dust covers and matted/framed in some sort of memento collage!!
Gale! Art project for me IS a casual mention. Because? My kids? ALWAYS doing art projects. ALWAYS. So, if I were to put said dust jackets on the art-materials shelves, I’m sure they’d be used creatively. But, I’m hanging on just tightly enough so that I can’t give them up to glue sticks and scissors, glitter and feathers and Q-tips (a FAVORITE art-project staple in my house…)
Forget about the dust covers! The message that comes across most strongly for me is how quickly we judge and criticize the actions of others – albeit silently in our minds. The lesson here is that we should be more open-minded, tolerant and accepting of differences. Imagine if we all did everything in our lives in exactly the same way? What a boring and shallow place this world would be!
Thank you for having the courage to admit your judgments and for teaching us to rather reflect on human behavior before criticizing it.
Amen. Judging and being judged are rich topics of discussion.
Jen, this post made me happy on so many levels!
First, the dust covers. Oh my! I don’t even know what happened to all the dust covers I took off my books! When I was little, I would use them as book marks. That’s what I thought they were for! Now, I immediately remove them and place them…somewhere. I’m still not quite sure where they go.
Second, your relationship with your sister. Currently, the only sibling of mine that has a child is my younger sister. I have written about her MANY times for different reasons, never for her parenting stuff because I have rarely seen her in action! Yet, I hope that I can see how my siblings parent as you see how Sarah parents. Different, unique, but wonderful all the same.
Finally, beautiful writing. Just another delightful reminder of why I keep returning to Momalom to read and ponder.
Amber, I love your comments. They’re like mini posts and ego boosts all in one. You are too too kind. Now, go find those lost covers and hand them over to your kids. You’re sure to get a little alone time while they amuse themselves!
I find this fascinating. I started taking dust jackets off my son’s books from day one, afraid of him getting paper cuts from them. But I don’t throw them away. They’re all stored in a junk drawer in his room. I keep dust jackets on my own books but I take them off when I’m reading them and put them back on the books when I’m finished. My husband leaves them on the whole time. I can’t get myself to toss them. I think it’s rude to the author or something.
The more comments I read about the dust-jacket issue, the more I’m thinking maybe there’s a bigger issue here. I’m not quite sure what it is yet, but it’s fascinating to me–more than I could have anticipated when I first observed Sarah toss one. And, the differences in spousal treatment of dust jackets? Very interesting!
Book dust jackets do seem like sacred talismans. I have a bunch of them tucked into my bedside night stand… but now they have ghostly lives all their own. Maybe they’re a little like shed snake skins or cicada shells… maybe they’re like training wheels and as we grow more accustomed to impermanence we don’t need them anymore.
Ooh, I like these deep connections you’re suggesting. Who knew so many people could feel so strongly about something so many other people hardly notice?
Hi Jen, Great to see you over here at Kristen’s.
I also have a collection of book jackets somewhere and believe I still have the books to go with them. I would only take them off if the cover art underneath was the same and then the mercenery idea was to put them back on eventually and have some kind of pristine book to sell as “with dust jacket.” Like that’s ever happened.
I’m a major book nut and my kids have inherited it. Now that they’re older they use the book jacket as a type of book mark to hold their place and take care of their books like their museum pieces!
Love the jacket as bookmark idea! Clever kiddos.
I love reading about you two. I have four sisters, and we’re definitely very different from each other, but love each other, regardless.
And I definitely toss the dust jackets. Always – the actual cover often has the same art as the dust jacket, at least for kids books, anyway.
(And I bet you ten bucks that Sarah could have predicted I’m a tosser.) :)
Is it the three boys that makes you a tosser? (I suspect not, as Sarah had only one when this moment in time occurred.)
Jen, what a great post full of metaphor and meaning. Siblings have such multi-layered relationships, and I imagine having kids makes the sister relationship even more rich and complicated.
This made me laugh out loud with recognition: “I question myself. Constantly. Wondering if I’m doing the right thing. I mean, is this the right way to phrase this sentence?”
HA!
I love you and Sarah, and I’ve only known you a few months, and only online. You’re two amazing women.
I don’t remember having dust jackets for my children’s books. I do, however, keep mine even when I take them off. Sometimes I loose the book and still have the jacket!
I’ve learned, too, that different styles of parenting (or just being) are not only not bad, but also don’t always result in different destinations. It is a great lesson to figure out!
I’m so so so glad we lighten up a bit as we move along. The funny thing is, I could totally relate to this because I have a stack of dust jackets in the closet too and I have no idea why I’m keeping them. The cover of the book looks exactly the same on most of them. Sarah’s probably on to something :) But I just don’t know if I can throw them….
okay, maybe I haven’t lightened up :)
I am firmly admitting that I throw away the dust covers for the kids’ books. Who adds a jacket to a book meant to be pawed and dragged and tossed around by little people? In my opinion, it’s a waste of our natural resources. Keep the dust covers where they belong: planted in the ground.
Now, for my personal books, I still use the covers as bookmarks (like Amber). They work perfectly and I never lose them. After the book is read, I replace the jacket for shelving.
Does it say something about me that I care more about having covers for my personal books than for my children’s?
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