Books as gifts, and how do you treat yours?

There’s a running debate at my book club as to which camp you fit into with the books you own and read. One side carefully uses book sleeves, never cracking spines, folding pages or writing in the margins. The other leaves books upside down and open to keep a place, allows covers to get battered and leaves books rattling around handbags, getting bruised in the process.

I’m firmly in the latter camp. I see my books as beings to be used and loved, to be loaned out. They’re little documents of the headspace I was in when I read them. Why did I highlight that passage in particular bad what did they note mean when I scribbled it down? I can’t borrow books from the former camp, because I get anxious at the thought of upsetting them with how I treat my books.

I’m an inherently nostalgic and sentimental person, which is why I love giving and receiving books as gifts. I love getting a book from someone, knowing it’s one they loved. I write messages in the books I receive and am disappointed to get a book gift that doesn’t have a little inscription.

There’s something beautiful and precious about someone’s handwriting. My mum wrote her full name and the year in all of the books she owned, and I have a few inscribed from before I was born - Anne Rose Grey 1982 - and I feel so warm knowing I’m holding something that she loved before she even knew I was going to exist.

The best books to gift are the ones that are precious to you, and a book is usually a thoughtful and personal gift. If you ever get one from me, you’ll know I’ve really considered it. I try to tailor it to the person in question.

My birthday is in August. I’m already excited for the deluge now you all know how easy I am to buy for.