Reading is a multi-faceted experience. It can be simple, lightweight, and free… or it can be shallow, expensive, and nothing more than an intellectual flex. In an age where the rich and famous are hiring people to stack their shelves with curated novels for a faux-cultured façade and an app dominated by the middle class is single-handedly keeping authors relevant, the socio-economic aspect of reading has never been more apparent.
While there is a lot to unpack in all of that, I only want to discuss special edition books, which have an interesting place in the world of reading. They are the books you’ll most likely never read but might spend a fortune to have, the books whose pages you’ll flick through but never linger on for too long, the books you display with pride and yet allow to collect dust. They embody the more elitist aspects of reading more than any other kind of book through the simple fact that they aren’t necessarily even made to be read.
It’s no surprise that with elements like sprayed edges, leather or clothbound covers, and bespoke illustrations, special editions can cost a lot more than the average book. Often, these special editions are made for classics that have entered the public domain by now and could be read for free, which makes the hefty price tags even more interesting. Instead of gorging ourselves on the free story anywhere online, or using a library, we throw money at a book too heavy to comfortably read that we will barely glance at after purchasing.
On rare occasions, we flick through these books that have been somewhat stripped of their primary purpose. We no longer revere them for their wonderfully written body, but for the way their words have been dressed up, accessorised, and delivered to us. But when visual art has become a large part of the reading experience thanks to targeted marketing anyway, is that such a bad thing?
Nowadays, most books have covers designed to draw in the right kinds of readers, but special editions seem to be designed to draw the right kind of buyers. They aren’t necessarily for readers, but for collectors, and while their purely aesthetic nature seems to present them as nothing but a vacuum for the middle classes to throw their money into there is an argument to be made for them not being a waste of money at all.
With all the extra work that goes into crafting a special edition book, it’s no surprise they cost a significant amount of money compared to their basic, mass-produced paperback counterparts. They transition from being just a book to multimedia art. Kind of. The words are an art in themselves, and they are brought to life and enhanced with the visual art of the special edition. When buying these books, you are no longer just investing in the author and their words, but in the craftsmanship that went into making the whole thing.
Even though reading at its core is not about visual aesthetics, collecting books, curating your shelves, and celebrating your favourite authors and stories can be. Why else would book-to-screen adaptations be a thing? There is more than one way to enjoy every story and reading special editions is simply a more selective, deliberate side of reading that is actually less about excessive consumption and more about concentrated enjoyment. Why buy six new books you may not enjoy when you can buy a beautiful edition of one you love?#
Better yet, I’m sure you will be hard-pressed to find a reader who would not enjoy a decorative edition of a book as a gift. I know I certainly appreciate these, as they’re not always something I think to buy myself, and yet I get so much enjoyment out of these gorgeous books on my shelves that I know I’ll never read more than once for fear of destroying them or spilling anything on the pages. They’re fun to look at and a pleasure to own, even if they do cost a lot more than the standard book.
Special editions do not have to be evidence of a reckless purchasing streak or a baseless flex. They can be a once-in-a-while luxury, an indulgence, or an appreciation of stories and their ability to inspire art of other kinds… whilst also being an entirely unnecessary expense. But what is life without splurging on the things you enjoy every once in a while?
Make of it what you will, but I enjoy special editions of books, am always glad to buy or receive them and will likely collect more as my life goes on. For me, they are not a status symbol, but a celebration of the art and love that goes into both the words and design of books.
Do you have any special edition books?
Read 'N Riot 