Books that reveal hidden collections, tell untold stories or analyse the significance of unusual objects are not uncommon, so there was a risk that Rebecca Reynold’s new publication would repeat such material.

However, the joy of Curiosities from the Cabinet: Objects and Voices from Britain’s Museums is that it is not academic or heavy, nor does it assume knowledge on the part of readers about the role of museums and their history as cabinets of curiosity. Instead, it is an accessible read, with short case studies and clear themes, allowing readers to dip in and learn about interesting objects.

The book is divided into 12 themed sections, each featuring stories of three objects that link to that subject. Ranging from the often discussed subject of “touchable”, which questions whether objects should be handled and what value a tactile experience can add to a visitor’s understanding of an object, to the more creative sections titled Lethal and Living, where Reynolds invites readers to consider the place that certain objects have in museum collections.

A section called The Dead presents objects such as a taxidermy barn owl and a handbag made from crocodile skin – the former having been shot for the purpose of being displayed, the latter an illegal product that was seized at Heathrow airport.

The introduction suggests that all objects in museums are actually dead, having been removed from the context in which they were used or loved, but more could have been done to explain the implications of collecting such objects. Although touched on in the case studies, there is little discussion that challenges the ethics of storing or displaying these objects.

The book also features stories and insights from others who work in the sector. “Although labelled and behind glass, museum objects are the bearers of people’s thoughts, feelings and actions over decades and centuries,” Reynolds writes. “And there are also the people who love, care for and know about the objects once they have entered the museum – curators, conservators and educators. So in the book, alongside the objects, are the voices of these ‘museum insiders’ who know the objects intimately.”

An occasional guest-written case study could have added diversity to the book’s content, but the perspectives and insights that come through in quotes do add richness to the stories told.

It’s not clear who the book is aimed at, but those with an interest in museum collections, and the context in which they have been acquired, will be surprised and engaged by much of the content. The book also aims to inspire readers to explore further.

As Reynolds explains: “It is not a book of highlights or a guide, but may act as a prompt to readers to follow their curiosity in exploring further, through a range of resources which museums now offer, from displays and exhibitions, to archives and libraries, to the growing number of events which museums run.”

The case studies are short and easy to read, so they would make useful teaching tools or introductions to museum collecting challenges and opportunities. The example of the British Library’s collecting of the writer, broadcaster and politician Jonathan Fryer’s Twitter feed is a fascinating insight into how archives approach documenting the intangible and reveals the scale of an organisation’s ambition to record contemporary material.

What is lacking in depth and richness in some of Reynolds’s content is compensated for by her highlighting of smaller museum collections and in some cases fairly everyday objects. The book shows that every object has a story to tell and will inspire a non-museum professional to think differently about why museums collect the world around us.

Jen Kavanagh is a freelance curator