reading and re-reading, are less strictly governed by convention than
the text-pages. They consequently offer the maximum opportunity for
typographic design. The history of printing is in large measure the
history of the title-page. When fully developed, the title occupied a
recto page, either partially or wholly; and the title-phrase, or the
principal words of it, has generally been set in a conspicuous size of
type. Sixteenth-century Italian printers generally used large capitals
copied from inscriptions, or by exception, from medieval manuscripts;
while English use emulated the French in employing a canon line of
upper and lower-case, followed by a few lines of pica capitals. Next
came the printer's device, and at the foot of the page, his name and
address. These large sizes of upper and lower-case, an inheritance from
printers who were accustomed to black-letter (which cannot be set in
solid capitals), have gone. The device has also vanished (it has been
revived by a few publishers), and thus the contemporary title page
is generally a bleak affair, exhibiting in nine out of ten cases a
space between the title and the imprint of the printer-publisher, so
that this blank tends to be the strongest feature on the page. When
the device was first abandoned, the author, printer or publisher took
advantage of the leisure of the reader and the blank at their disposal,
to draft a tediously long title, subtitle and list of the author's
qualifications, designed to fill the entire page. The present-day
publisher goes to the other extreme, reducing the title to as few
short words as possible, followed with "by" and the author's name. A
professional writer may insert, e.g., "Author of _The Deluge_" under
his name or there may be incorporated a motto; but apart from such
exceptions, three and sometimes four inches of space separate the
author's name from the first line of the imprint.
The result is that unless the title is set in a size of type out
of all relation to that of the remainder of the book, this space is
more conspicuous than the chief line. It is more reasonable to lessen
this space by shortening the depth of the whole piece from title to
imprint. It is clear that a volume in 12-point does not require a
30-point title unless it be a folio in double-column; and it is of no
consequence if the title page is a little shorter than the text pages.
There is no reason, other than a desire to be "different," for a title
page to bear any line of type larger than twice the size of the text
letter. If the book be set in 12-point, the title need be no larger
than 24-point--and may decently enough be smaller. As lower-case is a
necessary evil, which we should do well to subordinate since we cannot
suppress, it should be avoided when it is at its least rational and
least attractive--in large sizes. The main line of a title should be
set in capitals; and, like all titling capitals, they should be spaced.
Whatever may happen to the rest of the composition, the author's name,
like all displayed proper names, should be in capitals.
V
Here we may pause to counter an objection. It will be contended that
whatever the value of our preceding conclusions, their adoption must
mean an increase in standardization--all very well for those who have
an economic objective but very monotonous and dull for those whose aim
is that books shall possess more "life." This means that the objectors
want more variety, more "differentness," more decoration. The craving
to decorate is natural, and only if it is allowed the freedom of the
text pages shall we look upon it as a passion to be resisted. The
decoration of title pages is one thing--that of a fount to be employed
in books is another. Our contention, in this respect, is that the
necessities of a mass-production book and the limited edition differ
neither in kind nor in degree, since all printing is essentially a
means of the multiplication of a text set in an alphabetical code
of conventional symbols. To disallow "variety" in the vital details
of the composition is not to insist upon uniformity in display. As
already pointed out, the preliminary pages offer scope for the utmost
typographical ingenuity. Yet even here, a word of caution may be in
place, so soon do we forget, in arranging any piece of display (above
all, a title page), the supreme importance of sense. Every character,
every word, every line should be seen with maximum clearness. Words
should not be broken except unavoidably, and in title pages and other
compositions of centred matter, lines should hardly begin with such
feeble parts of speech as prepositions and conjunctions. It is more
reasonable, as assisting the reader's immediacy of comprehension, to
keep these to the ends of lines or to centre them in smaller type and
so bring out the salient lines in a relatively conspicuous size.
No printer, in safeguarding himself from the charge of monotony
in his composition, should admit, against his better judgment, any
typographical distraction doing violence to logic and lucidity in the
supposed interests of decoration. To twist his text into a triangle,
squeeze it into a box, torture it into the shape of an hour-glass
or a diamond is an offence requiring greater justification than the
existence either of Italian and French precedents of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, or of an ambition to do something new in
the twentieth. In truth, these are the easiest tricks of all, and we
have seen so much of them during the late "revival of printing" that
we now need rather a revival of restraint. In all permanent forms of
typography, whether publicly or privately printed, the typographer's
only purpose is to express, not himself, but his author. There are,
admittedly, other purposes which enter into the composition of
advertisement, publicity and sales matter; and there is, of course, a
very great deal common to both book and advertisement composition. But
it is not allowable to the printer to relax his zeal for the reader's
comfort in order to satisfy an ambition to decorate or to illustrate.
Rather than run this risk the printer should strive to express himself
by the use of this or that small decorative unit, either of common
design supplied by the type founders or drawn for his office by an
artist. It is quite true that to an inventive printer decoration is
not often necessary. In commercial printing, however, it seems to be
a necessity, because the complexity of our civilization demands an
infinite number of styles and characters. Publishers and other buyers
of printing, by insisting upon a setting which shall express _their_
business, _their_ goods, _their_ books and nobody else's business or
goods or books, demand an individuality which pure typography can never
hope to supply. But book-printers, concerned with the permanently
convenient rather than with the transiently sensational or the merely
fashionable, should be on their guard against title-page borders,
vignettes and devices invented to ease their difficulties. There is no
easy way with most title pages; and the printer's task is rendered more
difficult by the average publisher's and author's incompetence to draft
a title or to organize the preliminaries in reasonable sequence.
VI
Those who would like to lessen or vary the tendency towards
standardization in day-today book production have a field for their
activity in the last-mentioned pages. The position on the page of
the half-title, title, dedication, etc., and their relation to each
other, are not essentially invariable. Nevertheless, as it is well
for printers and publishers to have rules, and the same rules, it
may be suggested that the headings to Preface, Table of Contents,
Introduction, etc., should be in the same size and fount as the
chapter heads; and should be dropped if they are dropped. The order
of the preliminaries remains to be settled. With the exception of the
copyright notice, which may be set on the verso of the title page, all
should begin on a recto. The logical order of the preliminary pages is
Half-title or Dedication (I see no reason for including both), Title,
Contents, Preface, Introduction. The certificate of "limitation," in
the case of books of that class, may face the title where there is
no frontispiece, be incorporated with the half-title, or be taken to
the end of the volume. This order is applicable to most categories of
books. Novels need neither Table of Contents nor List of Chapters,
though one or the other is too often printed. If it is decided to
retain either, it would be reasonable to print it on the back of the
half-title and facing the title page, so that the structure, scope and
nature of the book will be almost completely indicated to the reader at
a single opening. Where the volume is made up of a few short stories,
their titles can be listed in the otherwise blank centre of the title
page.
VII
Fiction, Belles-Lettres and Educational books are habitually first
published in portable, but not pocketable formats; crown octavo (5 by
7-1/2 in.) being the invariable rule for novels published as such.
The novel in the form of Biography will be published as a Biography,
demy octavo (5-5/8 by 8-3/4 in.), the size also for History, Political
Study, Archaeology, Science, Art and almost everything but Fiction.
Novels are only promoted to this format when they have become famous
and "standard"; when they are popular rather than famous they are
composed in pocket (4-1/2 by 6-3/4 in.) editions. _Size_, therefore, is
the most manifest difference between the categories of books.
Another obvious difference is _bulk_, calculated in accordance with the
publisher's notion, first, of the general sense of trade expectation
and, secondly, of the purchasing psychology of a public habituated
to certain selling prices vaguely related to number of pages and
thickness of volume (inconsistently enough, weight does not enter
into these expectations). These habits of mind have consequences in
the typography; they affect the choice of fount and size of type,
and may necessitate the adoption of devices for "driving out," i.e.,
making the setting take up as much room as possible. By putting the
running headline between rules or rows of ornaments; introducing
unnecessary blanks between chapters; contracting the measure;
exaggerating the spaces between the words and the lines; excessively
indenting paragraphs; isolating quoted matter with areas of white
space: inserting wholly unnecessary sectional titles in the text and
surrounding them with space; contriving to drive a chapter ending to
the top of a recto page so that the rest of it and its verso may be
blank; using thick paper; increasing the depth of chapter beginnings
and inserting very large versals thereto; and so on, the volume can be
inflated to an extra sixteen pages and sometimes more--which is a feat
the able typographer is expected to accomplish without showing his hand.
Limited editions of standard authors, or of authors whose publishers
desire them to rank as such, are commonly given a rubricated title
or some other feature not strictly necessary. A dreadful example of
overdone rubrication is to be found in an edition of Thomas Hardy's
verse, in which the running heads throughout the book are in red--the
production of a firm which desired to make an impression on the
purchaser in view of the price asked for the edition. This could have
been better done by reserving colour for the initial letters. Handmade
paper is generally used for _éditions de luxe_, and none but the
brave among publishers will disregard the superstitious love of the
book-buying classes for its untrimmed, ugly and dirt-gathering edges.
That most of the public prefer to have it so is because a trimmed
book looks "ordinary" to them. Any book which is "different" from the
"ordinary" in one superficial way or another is apt to impress those
lacking trade experience. And there has been a notable increase during
recent years in the category of books, generally illustrated, known
to the trade as _fine printing_, _éditions de luxe_, _press-books_,
_limited editions_, _collectors' books_, etc. Hence, it is hoped that
the above setting out of the first principles of typography may give
the discriminating reader some sort of yardstick which he can apply not
only to the entries catalogued by the book-sellers as limited editions,
but to the output of publishers responsible for printing the literary
and scientific books which are more necessary to society, and are often
designed with greater intelligence.
COMPOSED IN NEW TIMES ROMAN TYPES
[Illustration]CARL PURINGTON ROLLINS[Illustration]
_American Type Designers and Their Work_
Published by The Lakeside Press 1947-1948. Reprinted by permission of
the publisher.
A piece of paper about two inches square, originally pinned to the
manuscript of the Rev. Ezra Stiles's diary in the Yale University
Library is all that remains of the first original American type design.
It is a proof of letters made by Abel Buell, a Connecticut Yankee, in
1769.[35] Buell was his own designer, punch cutter, and caster, since
in his day, as for many years after, the making of type was entirely a
hand operation. Not the least exacting part of the work was the cutting
of the punch on the end of a short bar of softened steel. It was not
until the invention of the Benton pantograph punch-cutting machine in
1885 that any other method was known. All type made before 1885 was
therefore dependent on hand punch cutting, and the designer of the type
was almost always the same man who cut the punches.
Who these type designers were after Buell is a matter of uncertainty
and obscurity. The first type specimen book in America was that of
Binny & Ronaldson of Philadelphia, issued in 1812; and from then
almost to our own day the type foundries have taken the credit for the
type designs which they have offered for sale. Type designers, like
architects, got no credit; possibly Modesty, with a backward glance at
old specimen books, raised a warning finger, and the designers were
willing to let the foundries have whatever glory there was.
[Illustration: The Punch Cutting Machine. _Courtesy George Macy
Publications._]
Abel Buell and his contemporaries and successors followed the general
trends in design in the arts as a whole. The Greek Revival and the
Victorian Age, marked by the two great expositions at London and
Philadelphia with their crudities and extravagancies in design, found
echoes in our imitative craft of printing. So it is not surprising
that type design began to improve, along with the other arts, with the
advent of the '90's. We have always followed European and especially
English models, and it is natural that the upheaval in type design in
England under Morris's influence had immediate repercussions here.
But while imitations of Kelmscott types were soon on the market, two
surprisingly original American designs appeared at the same time as
the imitations. About 1894 or 1895 the Central Type Foundry of St.
Louis introduced a face which became widely used, called (for no better
reason than attends the christening of most type faces) "De Vinne."
It is of unknown parentage, though there is some reason to suppose
that it descended from the Elzevirs; but it was a face of character
and distinction. At the same time the same foundry brought out another
design which had an acknowledged father--Will Bradley. Of this face it
has been said that it has "remarkably bold letters, with peculiarities
of form never before attempted." Thus we have in the De Vinne and the
Bradley faces two fresh and distinctively American types, destined to
be the forerunners of many others. And in one case the name of the
designer was definitely attached.
With the invention of the pantograph punch cutter, type design became
an "art" rather than a craft, and as might be expected the personality
of the designer became for various reasons more important. It is
not without interest that the chief designer of the American Type
Founders Company--a man responsible for almost the whole type output
of that foundry for many years--Morris Fuller Benton, was the son of
the man whose machines were responsible for this revolution in type
design. For it was the two basic machines invented and developed by
Linn Boyd Benton which made it possible for those unskilled in the
intricacies of type making to provide the basic designs for type.
The machines were very ingenious, and the designs partook of the
"faultily faultless, icily regular" perfection of the mechanical
device. This method of making type faces involved the drawing of the
design and the making of two or three patterns in thin brass of the
outline of the letter--each pattern good for several sizes of type,
and slightly modified for another group of sizes. This is the way in
which modern type is designed. It is the reason why such a type series
as "Cheltenham," designed by the architect Bertram G. Goodhue in 1900
for the Mergenthaler Linotype Company, while very expertly handled in
the details, seems monotonous in mass; whereas the Caslon type of the
original cutting shows all the inevitable variations of hand work.
A survey of the types of the first quarter of the present century,
made by the Editor of the _Inland Printer_ in 1927, displays 161 type
faces brought out by seven or eight of the leading foundries between
1900 and 1925. Of these, it was possible to name the designers of 72,
almost all from the Barnhart Brothers & Spindler foundry of Chicago,
whose records seem to have been in better shape, or whose generosity
was more spontaneous. Oswald Cooper, Sydney Gaunt, Will Ransom, Robert
Wiebking, and George Trenholm were the chief names. It is unfortunate
that the names of the designers of the types put out by the American
Type Founders Company have not been preserved except in rare instances.
Of course, Benton was responsible for the greater portion, and on the
aesthetic side they occasionally scored a triumph as in the case of the
"Cloister" face.
The list included in the _Inland Printer's_ survey fails to include
some of the outstanding designs of the period. Goodhue's "Merrymount"
was done in 1894, but after 1900 we have Mr. Rogers's "Centaur,"
Mr. Hunter's odd but forceful types (properly cut on punches by
the designer), the output of the rapidly growing composing-machine
industry, and Frederic W. Goudy's fifty designs completed in that
quarter century. Goudy's output of six score type designs in fifty
years is an amazing record, one probably never equalled. Such designs
as those for "Goudy Modern," "Goudy Text," and "Hadrian" would
establish his reputation. He had his limitations as a designer--most
of his designs lack a certain crispness--but his versatility was
extraordinary.
In the years since 1925 new designers have come to the fore: Blumenthal
with his "Emerson," Dwiggins with his "Electra" and "Caledonia,"
Ruzicka with his "Fairfield," and Chappell with his "Lydian." This
brief survey cannot hope to mention all types or designs which American
designers have contributed, but it is well to see if any tendencies can
be detected.
The type which Buell made in 1759, as well as the type of his
immediate successors into the first decades of the nineteenth century,
were mainly variations on the so-called "modern romans" of Didot,
Bodoni, Austen, and Thorowgood. As the artistic styles in design in
general, not alone in type, gradually lost the evolutionary force
which has developed letter forms through the centuries, eccentricity
and anarchy came into play. The nineteenth-century types as shown
in the specimen books of Bruce, Connor, Farmer, etc., and exhibited
in all their grotesque horror in Fred Phillips' "Old-fashioned Type
Book," had no legitimate parentage, and they are as well relegated
to the bizarre and pseudo-nostalgic advertisement. The result of the
Kelmscott "revival" was to turn attention to type forms of the past
which could be revived for modern use, and the type designers after
1900 did a remarkable piece of work in introducing good type faces.
The advertisers have been eager to use new and novel faces, and have
greatly stimulated this activity, even in many cases over-exciting
it. The most interesting result has been the renewed interest in
calligraphy. First directed toward new forms of script, the truer form
of broad pen lettering is now beginning to influence type design, to
free it from too slavish a devotion on the one hand to the serif, and
on the other to a too-free rejection of the serif altogether. Such
a face as Mr. Chappell's "Lydian" is an example of real advance in
design, and if one could adduce European examples, more could be cited.
American designers have not developed many new or good book faces;
such types as Oxford, Centaur, Emerson, Fairfield, Electra, are the
exception. Their efforts have been given to the drawing of display and
advertising types--too often not to the enrichment of the printer's
repertory. It is quite as true now as in the past that distortions of
the normal Roman letter form in the direction of extra condensed or
extra heavy or very light mono-line letters result in eccentricities
which have no permanent value. On the other hand such novel type
designs as Garamond Bold Italic, Hadriano, the newspaper Ionics, and
Lydian are meritorious additions to the printer's fonts. When it is
realized that eccentricity and originality are not the same thing, we
may expect from our increasingly intelligent designers indigenous types
of usefulness and charm.
FOOTNOTES:
[35] Reprinted in Lawrence C. Wroth's "The First Work with American
Types," page 65.
TYPOGRAPHY--ERIC GILL
From _Printing & Piety_, An Essay on Typography by Eric Gill.
Copyright 1931 by J. M. Dent and Sons, Ltd., London. Reprinted by
permission of the publisher.
One of the most alluring enthusiasms that can occupy the mind of the
letterer is that of inventing a really logical and consistent alphabet
having a distinct sign for every distinct sound. This is especially
the case for English speaking people: for the letters we use only
inadequately symbolize the sounds of our language. We need many new
letters and a revaluation of existing ones. But this enthusiasm has
no practical value for the typographer; we must take the alphabets we
have got, and we must take these alphabets in all essentials as we have
inherited them.
First of all, then, we have the ROMAN ALPHABET of CAPITAL letters
(Upper-case), and second the alphabet which printers call ROMAN
LOWER-CASE. The latter, tho' derived from the Capitals, is a distinct
alphabet. Third we have the alphabet called _ITALIC_, also derived
from the Capitals but through different channels. These are the three
alphabets in common use for English people.
Are there no others? It might be held that there are several; there
are, for example, the alphabet called Black Letter, and that called
Lombardic. But these are only partial survivals, and very few people
could, without reference to ancient books, write down even a complete
alphabet of either. As far as we are concerned in modern England,
Roman Capitals, Lower-case and Italics are three different alphabets,
and all are current "coin." But however familiar we are with them,
their essential differences are not always easily discovered. It is
not a matter of slope or of serifs or of thickness or thinness. These
qualities, though one or other of them may be commonly associated with
one alphabet more than another, are not essential marks of difference.
A Roman Capital A does not cease to be a Roman Capital A because it is
sloped backwards or forwards, because it is made thicker or thinner, or
because serifs are added or omitted; and the same applies to Lower-case
and Italics (see Fig. 1).
[Illustration: Figure 1 illustrates the contention that slope in either
direction does not deprive Capitals, Lower-case or Italics of their
essential differences.]
[Illustration: Figure 2 in which the upper line of letters is
essentially "Roman Lower-case"; the lower essentially "Italic."]
The essential differences are obviously between the forms of the
letters. The following letters, abdefghklmnqrtu and y, are not Roman
Capitals, and that is all about it. The letters shown in the lower
line of Fig. 2 are neither Capitals nor Lower-case. The conclusion
is obvious: there is a complete alphabet of Capital letters, but the
Lower-case takes ten letters from the Capital alphabet, and the Italic
takes ten from the Capitals and twelve from the Lower-case. Figure 3
shows the three alphabets completed, and it will be seen that CIJOPSVWX
and Z are common to all three, that bdhklmnqrtu and y are common to
Lower-case and Italics; that ABDEFGHKLMNQRTU and Y are always Capitals;
and that aef and g are always Lower-case.
[Illustration: Figure 3 shows the differences and similarities between
the three "current" alphabets. Note: the curve of the Italic y's tail
is due to exuberance, and not to necessity.]