where the Contents finishes, the List of Illustrations should begin on
a right-hand page. Obviously its typographical style should be the same
as the Contents.
INTRODUCTION (_always a right-hand page_)
The Introduction follows the List of Illustrations, and its
composition should be in the same size and face as the body of the
book. Any typographical distinction between Preface and Introduction
should be limited to the former, as stated under "Preface." Authors
are not always clear in their understanding of the difference between
a Preface and an Introduction. Their Introduction often is really a
Preface, and should be so entitled and placed in the book accordingly.
The Preface is the author's personal remarks to the reader, and these
may be of any character, treating of any subject. The Introduction, on
the other hand, should treat specifically of the subject of the book,
and should contain only statements of direct bearing and importance.
HALF TITLE (_always a right-hand page_)
As the Bastard Title always precedes the Title Page, so the Half Title
always precedes the first page of the text--the page which carries the
title of the book at its top. The Half Title must always be on the
right-hand page immediately preceding this page, and it should consist
of not more than the title of the volume. Half Titles may run through a
book before various divisions.
Those sections of a book which follow the text must be treated with
the same typographic care as the pages which precede the text. These
sections are usually as follows:
APPENDIX (_always a right-hand page_)
This should be set in the same face as the text, but in one size
smaller type. If the text ends on the left-hand page, a Half Title may
be thrown between the text and the Appendix.
GLOSSARY (_preferably a right-hand page_)
The size of type used for the Glossary depends wholly upon its nature,
but it usually is two full sizes smaller than that used in the text of
the volume. A Half Title may be thrown in before the Glossary, if the
text ends on the left-hand page.
BIBLIOGRAPHY (_preferably a right-hand page_)
The comments made under "Glossary" apply equally to the Bibliography.
The combination of titles of books and the names of authors offers an
attractive opportunity for artistic treatment.
INDEX (_always a right-hand page_)
If the text ends on the left-hand page, a Half Title may be thrown in
before the Index. The type used for the Index is usually 8 point size
set in double column. There is so much difference in the way the index
entries read that great care should be exercised to select a model
which will fit the particular case in hand.
* * * * *
A SYMPOSIUM: _By Bruce Rogers, Carl Purington Rollins, Joseph
Blumenthal, P. J. Conkwright, Arthur W. Rushmore, Milton Glick, Morris
Colman, Evelyn Harter, Peter Beilenson and Ernst Reichl._
Have there been any material changes in the anatomy of the book in the
past quarter century? Should there be, to have the contemporary book
reflect the times in which it is designed, set and printed?
As these and other questions occurred, we re-appraised the Anatomy of
the Book summation in _The Manual of Linotype Typography_, reprinted
in the foregoing pages. That text seemed to stand up pretty well.
It was written originally by William Dana Orcutt for the _Manual_,
whose typographical plan and critical comment was prepared with the
co-operation of the late Edward E. Bartlett, then Director of Linotype
Typography.
* * * * *
What revisions or additions would Mr. Orcutt suggest for a reprinting?
What would other prominent designers and book-makers suggest?
The idea of a symposium appealed. The counsel of Bruce Rogers, Carl
Purington Rollins and Joseph Blumenthal, in the field of fine and
privately printed books, was invited, with that of P. J. Conkwright in
the university press field.
Trade book-makers would also have opinions and suggestions, in all
probability. Counsel was sought from Milton Glick, who heads the Viking
Press design and production activity; Morris Colman, former chairman
of the A.I.G.A. Trade Book Clinic and one of Viking's top designers;
Arthur W. Rushmore, former Harper vice-president in charge of design
and production, now retired to the delights of his Golden Hind Press,
at Madison, N. J.; and Ernst Reichl, one of our ranking modern
designers, whose long association in book manufacturing with H. Wolff
and as a free-lance brought an unmatched experience in working with
many publishers. Mr. Reichl also has been prominent in A.I.G.A. Book
and Magazine Clinic activities.
The comment of an author and a publisher also seemed in order, and
happily one in each field with a considerable appreciation of the
graphic arts was obtained: Evelyn Harter, whose novel, _Dr. Katherine
Bell_, was recently published by Doubleday, and who formerly headed
design and production activity for Random House, Smith and Haas and
other firms before retiring to private life as Mrs. Milton Glick. As
publisher-designer-printer all in one, Peter Beilenson was invited to
comment. He, with Mrs. Edna Beilenson, directs the Peter Pauper Press
in Mt. Vernon, and is consistently represented in the A.I.G.A. "Fifty
Books of the Year" selections.
* * * * *
"So far as I know," Mr. Orcutt wrote, "the Anatomy remains the same
today and I can think of no changes I would want to make. I may be
wrong, but I am still hoping that it is one thing that doesn't change."
To Joseph Blumenthal, who directs the Spiral Press in New York, and
whose books are famed for their simplicity of design and excellence
of typography and presswork, the statements of the Anatomy are sane
and safe. "In the hands of a sufficiently experienced and versatile
designer," he added, "no rule is absolute to the point where it cannot
be broken, at least in part, where occasion requires."
To Bruce Rogers, most distinguished of designers of books, the Anatomy
"is an excellent short treatise that covers all the points of a
well-designed volume.... I recommend it for the perusal of anyone
engaged in book-making. Following it literally would result in a decided
advance in that art."
Several minor suggestions that B.R. made have been incorporated in the
text of the Anatomy as here reprinted. These concerned the substitution
of "should" for "must" in several instances, "in order not to be too
dogmatic." His other points were: 1, "that it is frequently preferable
to place the preface before the contents"; and 2, "that there seem to
be too many half-titles recommended for anything else than a de luxe
book--especially at the end, for the index and vocabulary."
To Carl Purington Rollins, Printer Emeritus to Yale University,
lecturer and writer on the graphic arts and one of the foremost
American masters of the book, the Anatomy "is a very sound and sensible
guide for young book makers--and, to judge from the queer books
coming out of New York, older ones could profit from it. I have no
disagreement with it in any particular," he continued, "and if it will
not make a genius, it will at least prevent a diligent reader from
going astray."
P. J. Conkwright found the text clear and concise. "Any extensive
elaboration would defeat its usefulness, I think, to those approaching
the subject for the first time.
"My only quarrel," he added, "is with the paragraph concerning
Copyright. If there is no Dedication I like the Copyright statement and
printer's imprint grouped together a little above the center of the
page. If there is a Dedication, I like the Copyright statement at the
top of the page lining with the top line of the title page, and the
printer's imprint at the bottom of the page, lining with the bottom
line of the title page.
"This is a good example, however, of how an elaboration of the text can
get too involved for a beginner."
* * * * *
To several experienced trade-book designers with considerable
production and manufacturing experience, the Anatomy text was less
satisfactory.
Both Evelyn Harter and Milton Glick found the text too dogmatic in
its dicta. They were bothered most by the first two sentences under
Copyright, the last sentence under title page and "references to
'genius.'" They both liked best the remarks regarding Contents, Preface
and Introduction.
"Ought not the topics of chapter openings be included," Mr. Glick
inquired, "also illustrations, captions, running page heads, folios and
such?"
As an ex-designer turned author, Miss Harter has "come to appreciate
more than ever the values of legibility and simplicity, with no
extraneous tricks."
Morris Colman concurred in feeling the Anatomy text is pretty arbitrary
for today, and that chapter openings, running page heads and all other
normal elements of a book should be included.
"In particular," he added, "I would like to see the various arguments
presented both in terms of tradition and also in terms of the
particular function which each element of a book performs.
"For example, the title page is not only the 'main entrance' but it
also is the source of the bibliographic information which appears
in hundreds of library cards, catalogs, etc., and its contents and
arrangement determines whether it will be listed in all these places in
such form that you or I could find it if we wanted it.
"There are certain legal requirements which influence the form and
content of copyright pages. Dedications, while formal in a technical
sense, may need to be treated quite informally to express the spirit of
the particular dedicator.
"And with many kinds of contemporary books," he continued, "the
contents page is made to precede any other preliminary matter, despite
tradition, for the greater convenience of the reader. I am sure that
this is always why the Index is invariably the last element in back
matter."
* * * * *
To Arthur Rushmore, the Anatomy "is darn good copy, clearly stated.
There are a couple of amplifications that might help give more clarity:
"_Advertising Card_ seems a little vague. This is more likely to be a
'List of Author's Books' or 'Series Title and Titles of Books already
issued' if the book is in a historical or other series.
"_Copyright_: Relatively few books carry the Printer's name on
copyright and the line 'Printed in the United States of America' looks
better and obviates a printing problem if run as a line directly under
the copyright notice. A single line at the foot of the page, after
the first 500 impressions of 1951 printing, is either bold face or
completely unreadable.
"_Dedication_: To me, 'small caps are the best' is doubtful. Small caps
are the worst printing of all characters in a font, and unless small
caps of a larger size than text will look too weak and small. I'd say
'should be planned with the utmost care for balance and position on
page.'
"_Half Title_: First paragraph too dogmatic. If book is a novel, or
book without 'Parts' then half title should be 'book title' backed
blank and folioed in Roman front matter. If book has 'Parts,' the half
title should not bear book title, but should carry the Part or Section
Title and folio arabic 1, backed blank 2 and first page of text folio
3. Similar half title for all other Parts or Sections folioed in."
Peter Beilenson, whose comment on the pleasures and duties of the
amateur printer is well worth reading (page 313), thinks the Anatomy
"perfectly all right, so far as it goes. If it wavers from the perfect,
it is in being too strict--_vide_ the remarks about the title page, the
"it should never" of the bastard title, etc.
"But," he asks in suggesting the text be extended, "what about
additions to the coverage? Footnotes, running heads, chapter titles,
initials, etc., are not the limbs of the anatomy, but they are organs.
What about the binding? The jacket? The direction of the stamping of
the title on the spine?"
To Ernst Reichl, the Anatomy comprises "what might be called the basic
minimum. Any designer worth his salt should not only start with this
standard but also allow his imagination to roam far beyond it.
"An 'anatomy,' however precise and objective, necessarily breaks down
a living entity into component parts. These parts in reality show much
more cohesion than is apparent in their piece-by-piece description.
"In the modern book, in particular, we tend to treat the volume as a
whole and to submerge the importance of the single page in it. The
bastard title, for instance, might be left entirely blank; the title
page may be spread over two pages and the advertising card incorporated
into it; the copyright page and the dedication page might be treated as
a double-page spread, etc.
"The tendency today," he summarized, "is altogether to handle the
double-page spread as the unit of the layout, rather than the single
page. This may help to break down in some degree the rigidity and
formality which awes ordinary human beings, and makes them as reluctant
to touch a book as to put on a dress suit. It may also help to make our
books a little more ordinary and lively."
[Illustration]ROBERT JOSEPHY[Illustration]
_Trade Bookmaking_:
COMPLAINT IN THREE DIMENSIONS
From _Publishers' Weekly_, Oct. 5, 1935. Copyright 1935 by R. R.
Bowker Co. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
The development of trade book-making since 1920 has been an
extraordinary phenomenon in the conservative business of publishing. At
that time most publishers looked upon "manufacturing" as a necessary
but routine activity, ranking with accounting, shipping and such, and
on a far lower intellectual plane than the cultivation of authors and
reviewers, or the writing of good blurbs. The production of books was
usually entrusted to an uninspired saint who was expected to be hard
on his printer's back and soft under his boss's feet. The idea of the
publisher himself taking any interest in the _aesthetics_ of book-making
was thought to be a trifle queer.
There was, to be sure, a small traffic in books printed for collectors,
and the term "fine printing" had already come to mean "not printed
to be read." Typography, as usual, was less than twenty years behind
current architecture, and American type founders had already cleaned up
the Renaissance and were well on their way into the eighteenth century,
while American typographers, like interior decorators, were learning to
hop nimbly from period to period. Everyone was learning to blame the
machine for the things we were too greedy or too lazy to do properly;
fortunately small power presses could be made to imitate hand-press
printing, so it was not really necessary to do business at hand-press
rates.
In the field of general publishing, however, the hand-press page was
out of the question, period styles were incongruous, and the real
problem of designing the trade book had never been attempted, because
it had never been seen with any clarity. There were many experiments
with new binding materials and designs, and with printers' flowers
and other typographic embellishment, but these were all attempts to
"dress up" the old formats, and arose from no real understanding of the
problem.
Today [1935], thanks to the leadership of a very few publishers, the
educational work of the American Institute of Graphic Arts, and perhaps
to the enthusiasm of the designers themselves, there is a steadily
widening appreciation of good trade book-making, and a better perception
of the problem among book-makers. We are learning to plan books in
_three_ dimensions, considering proportion and weight and the texture
of materials--designing for the hand as well as for the eyes. We are
getting free of "period" styles and "period" motifs, and developing a
new idiom to suit new methods of production. We are finally trying to
make the physical aspect of our books bear some relation to the culture
of our own time.
Everyone has come to recognize certain aesthetic values in cheap
machine-made glass and metal-ware, if it be designed for the machine
and does not attempt to imitate the hand-made, and we find in it a
quality different from, but not necessarily inferior to, that of
the more elegant article. Thus in printing we are coming to realize
that electrotyped plates, made from machine-set type and printed on
wood-pulp paper on a perfecting cylinder press can produce a page quite
as satisfactory, aesthetically, as the product of the hand-press. It
is this new sense of values, born of respect for the machine and for
what it can do if used with character, that must be the basis of the
designer's attitude. If he is working with his fingers crossed, his
work will show it.
* * * * *
The problem of suiting type to subject is the cause of much confusion.
We give too little study to the characteristics of type-faces, and the
announcements of the foundries and composing-machine people frequently
attribute the most fantastic qualities to their new types.
Furthermore, most of the faces available on the composing machines
have been cut to reproduce some earlier design, and few to meet
the contemporary technical or literary requirements, so that we
have several great gaps in the line of type resources that need to
be filled. Recent books examined, and a great part of all current
book-making, show that we have largely thrown off the reactionary
hand-press ideal, and that we are learning to construct instead of
decorate. We have finally obtained a supply of modern book cloth;
Europe has given us a supply of modern display types; and we are
anxiously awaiting the composing-machine companies' arrival in the
Twentieth Century.
_Two years later_:
From _Publishers' Weekly_, April 3, 1937. Copyright 1937 by R. R.
Bowker Co. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
The end of a three-hour period spent examining a month's output of
American trade books leaves one thinking much more about the book
making situation in general than about the four books one has chosen.
What impresses one is not that four books, or forty, are decently made,
but that all the rest are so badly made.
After my last experience in inspecting a collection of this kind, I
wrote, with some satisfaction and much optimism: "We are learning to
plan books in _three_ dimensions ... designing for the hand as well as
for the eye.... We are finally trying to make the physical aspect of
our books bear some relation to the culture of our own time." Well, I
still think we are only _trying_.
Designing a book is a problem in _three_ dimensions. The first
essential is good and suitable materials, the second good proportions,
the third a good type, and the last good typographic arrangement.
Good decoration (or any decoration) is not essential at all. If the
materials are poor in quality and unsuitable to the idea of a book; if
the proportions detract from the aesthetic effect, or from the book's
practical usefulness, typography can do very little to save it.
In the last two years the publishers have been increasing trim sizes
without increasing list prices, and at the same time increasing bulks,
instead of reducing them to compensate. What that means in simple
arithmetic is that when a novel is increased from a 7-1/2 inch 12mo to
an 8-1/8 inch large 12mo, and the bulk from 1 inch to 1-1/8 inches,
it requires a third more cubic inches of paper, a seventh more square
inches of cloth, a sixth more board, etc.--all for the same money. It
means even softer, less printable, less bindable paper; cheaper binding
materials throughout; sewing in 32's and other skimping in workmanship.
And it means clumsier, uglier, more perishable books.
While other industries are seeking to make the implements of
living more convenient and more durable and more beautiful, we are
deliberately making books less convenient and less durable and less
beautiful. While other industries are helping to develop popular taste
and anticipating changes in it, we are waiting for our customers to
get mad at us. While we see the masses getting wise to other frauds of
branding and packaging, we still hand our "intelligent minority" the
old fraud of inflated books.
The digest magazines can get millions of readers, though magazines
have always had _large_ pages, but "that's not the book business." A
few of the publishers can sell small books, but "that's all right for
_their_ lists." Booksellers can tell us the public is on to us, but
"_their_ customers aren't typical book buyers." Our friends can tell us
they like to carry books in their pockets, and that they have no more
room on their shelves, or under their beds, but they're only our crazy
friends. Our salesman can tell us he got a bad order because the book
was too thin--and ah! there we have the real and only truth.
Publishers of new books blame this practice on the reprints, but they
themselves control much of the offending reprint output. We allow the
cheapest and shoddiest goods to set our styles; as if Fourteenth Street
were to lead our dress industry, and jerry-built Queens our builders.
Publishing is indeed, as we are so often told, a "different" kind of
business!
Most of the books I examined suffered from this inflation. In most
cases the money spent on them would have produced a sound, handsome,
and durable book in a smaller size, and without small type or crowding.
Books printed on proper paper were so rare that I found myself
reluctant to discard the few I found, however undistinguished in other
respects some of them were. (I felt the same way about the few books
with trimmed edges--but that is a delicate subject better discussed
face to face, and with weapons, than in a family journal.)
Most of the books suffered also from too much typography. I think we
are all trying desperately to overcome typographically the handicap of
paper and materials. Some of us find that if we don't do stunts the
publisher will think we're not trying. Some of us are still suffering
a little from Rogers-complaint. And some of us are perhaps just too
anxious to express ourselves.
Whatever the reason, we seldom have the courage to let a simple book
stay simple. We are very particular about the type we select, and then
we are afraid to use it boldly, and to depend on the design of the
letter for our effects. Books with illustrations, diagrams, complicated
heads, or other special matter, we are apt to handle well; but when the
copy is simple we do insist on using rules and/or ornament. When we
use ornament we are inclined to have meaningless little units repeated
endlessly throughout the book, instead of a few positive, significant
elements, used with proper restraint.
In many of the books I saw, the design bore no relation to the subject
matter, either in materials, format, or typography, and these were by
no means all from the hands of inexperienced designers. Many suffered,
of course, because good types are not available for certain problems.
None of the composing machines has a really suitable type for books on
contemporary subjects: the natural and social sciences, architecture
and technology, etc. There should be several such types, comparable
to the old numbered "moderns" and "old styles" but better in design,
traditional in general form but impersonal and mechanized in drawing;
and cut in several weights for different papers. If I may conclude
by quoting again from my last effort in this medium, we are _still_
"anxiously awaiting the composing-machine companies' arrival in the
Twentieth Century."
_Postscript_, 1951:
Re-reading the above complaints, I am saddened to find how many of them
I would repeat today. Many of them, but not all. The inflated book is
becoming rare, but it took a world war to finish it off. With it we are
losing the sloppy rough-cut fore-edge. "Period" typography is quite
dead, but its belated and tortured passing is no credit to any of us.
We still have too much typography, however; too many self-conscious
tricks, too much un-discipline. And we still lack many of the types
we need. The war may fairly be blamed for disrupting the programs of
the machine people, for a book face takes years of labor and trial to
produce. But where are the new hand-types?