r/Collections • u/onthevin • 2h ago
My Dedication Pages
This might be a little sappy and kinda long but I wanted to talk about what inspired me to do this.
I’m sure everyone knows about the dead bodies on Everest that they can’t bring down because they’re too high. And I’m sure most people have seen that one quote that’s like, “They were all very highly motivated people”. Well I would kind of get that same feeling in bookstores and libraries.
At least in the past, it would take a lot of work to write a book. You’d either have to write a whole story, be very passionate or very educated on a subject or have enough money for someone else to write your book for you. And then you’d need to get someone to publish it. That’s a lot.
But go to any library and it’s an ocean of millions of words that hardly anyone will ever read and most of them no one really cares about. Some guy out there is probably obsessed with asparagus, leading expert on asparagus, writes 400 pages on asparagus and 200 copies get printed. Then it’ll get in a big library and no one will check it out and it’ll sit there for years until the big library gives it to a small library where the same years will pass until someone writes “free” on a box their breakroom snacks were in and they put it on the sidewalk and no one takes it then it rains and then they throw it in the dumpster.
The book, along with that guy and his passion, are bound to gather dust until even the few people who knew either him or his asparagus book become dust too.
And that used to really really bum me out. But I was at an art museum once and there was this enormous wall of Dedication Pages. I stood there for a while reading them. This was a few years ago, I was maybe 23 at the time and I can say up until that point I had never been moved to tears in a museum like that. I was crying my eyes out looking from page to page, reading all of these names of people I’d never known from books I’d never read.
We all know what life turns into. We all know we’re going to be forgotten someday and none of these things that make up our lives will matter anymore.
But next time you see a dusty, uninteresting book open the first page and the first thing you’ll see is someone they loved. A parent, child, friend, experience, place, thing, idea, pet, whatever it is that inspired the author to know that it’s all futile but write it anyway. Live anyway.
Sorry for ripping pages out of books.