How much is that scribble in the margin?

Children are taught not to scribble in books, but for grownups it can sometimes prove rewarding. A copy of lady Chatterley’s lover, full of scribbles and underlinings, is soon to be put up for auction.

it belonged to Sir lawrence Byrne, the judge at the 1960 obscenity trial at which the prosecuting counsel famously asked: ‘Would you approve of your young sons, young daughters — because girls can read as well as boys — reading this book? is it a book that you would have lying around in your own house? is it a book that you would even wish your wife or your servants to read?’

As it happens, , Sir lawrence’s wife, , lady dorothy, had d not only read the e book, but had marked the sexually explicit passages, so as to make things easier r for her husband.

‘The idea is that he got her to read it before the trial so that he would know where the dirty bits were,’ explains Gabriel heaton, a specialist in books and manuscripts at Sotheby’s.

nor had she rested there, adding her own terse comments, such as ‘love making’ or ‘coarse’.

nearly 60 years later, this defaced copy of lady Chatterley’s lover is expected to sell for up to £15,000. lady dorothy’s scribbles have been well-rewarded.

Given time, even the most ribald graffiti can turn, as if by magic, into a valuable objet d’art. Currently on show at the fascinating ‘i Object’ exhibition at the British Museum is a piece of obscene graffiti carved in ancient egypt, which aimed to poke fun at the pharaohs. Back then, it would have been seen as depraved and disgusting. But now it sits in pride of place at a special exhibition at the British Museum.

Something similar happened to various books taken from the islington library in 1962. They were defaced with obscene pictures and writings.

For instance, the title of one book, night Must Fall, was altered to Knickers Must Fall. The total damage came to £450 and the two perpetrators were sentenced to six months in jail.

Fast forward 50 years, to 2011, and these very same books were the subject of a special exhibition at the islington local history museum. This was because the miscreants — Joe Orton and his boyfriend Kenneth halliwell — were now figures of historic importance, Orton for being one of our funniest post- war playwrights, and halliwell for having murdered him.

if it is perpetrated by a grandee rather than a vandal, defacing a book can add greatly to its value. ‘Wrong!’ ‘ nonsense!’ ‘ no!’ These furious scribbles are visible in the margin of a biography of edward heath, the Tory Prime Minister.

in normal circumstances, they would render the book worthless, but they were scribbled by the great man himself, in a bate at having his reputation besmirched.

like edward heath, the second President of the United States, John Adams, would often reach for his pen when a book displeased him. ‘A barbarous th theory!’ he wrote in the margin of h his copy of The F French revolution ti by Mary W Wollstonecraft.

This volume, w with corrective sc scribbles on virtually al every page, no now sits in pride of pl place at the John Adams library in n Boston.

P Princess Margaret, re the subject of my recent biography ph Ma’am darling, wo would scribble in th the margin if sh she objected to so something she wa was reading.

i in 1982, she b bought ht a copy of the just published diaries of the late noel Coward. To her face, Coward had always been a great sycophant, telling her how beautiful she was, and how talented. So she might reasonably have expected any mention of herself to be laced with flattery. BUT no. On June 1, 1954, Coward had attended a theatrical evening which the 23-year-old Princess had co-directed. On the night, he had been full of praise, but in his diary he was very bitchy.

‘One of the most fascinating exhibitions of incompetence, conceit and bloody impertinence i have ever seen in my life...’ he wrote. ‘The entire cast displayed no talent whatsoever.’

he went on to note that, backstage afterwards, he found Princess Margaret drinking champagne and tucking into foie gras sandwiches.

reading this, 30 years on, the Princess could be forgiven for feeling hurt. her copy of the Coward diaries comes annotated with the grumpy correction: ‘i don’t like foie gras.’