Judging a book by the cover

Architecture in Sweden: Function, Design and Aesthetic through the Ages (Arkitekturmuseet, 2007)

This modest little book published by the Swedish Architecture Museum has one rather striking feature. The cover has a pop-out section that can be folded to create a 3D model of a building, which looks to be a traditional Scandinavian house with a steeply pitched roof. A unique feature such as this can broaden the appeal of a book that is, by way of its subject matter, targeted at a specialist interest group. The book just might, for instance, be purchased as a tourist souvenir.

Ways of Seeing – John Berger (BBC and Penguin, 2008)

This book is a reissue by the BBC and Penguin Books of a book originally published in 1972 as an accompaniment to a BBC television series. The book, which is based on the scripts Berger wrote for the TV series, is comprised of seven essays and has been used extensively as a text in academic institutions. The challenges Berger poses to traditional Western art criticism in this book are reflected in challenges to book design conventions in its execution.

The cover is interesting because it is in fact the first page of the text. The reader starts here and upon opening the book simply continues reading on the first page.

I may discuss this book more than once because it's rather intriguing. It seems to me that the purpose of flaunting convention in this book is to embody the nature of its content and to challenge the reader to rethink the process of reading. In that sense it is successful.

The Endless City (Phaidon, 2007)

Phaidon makes statistics look cool in bold black type on a neon orange background. It's busy, but it works because of the regularity of shapes and contrasting white accents.


The Summer Without Men – Siri Hustvedt (Sceptre, 2011)

This is a very nicely designed cover. It's simple and uncluttered, but has an enticing subtlety about it. The minimalism is reminiscent of poetry book design, yet this is a literary novel. It has a lightness to it that belies its subject matter. The use of blank space on the cover suggests that this is a novel where those things left unrepresented are as important as what is directly conveyed. The woman's skin and hair, for example, is rendered boldly in black and red, yet her dress and her body are merely suggested through the negative space. It requires the reader's interpretation – as does the text.


The cover is made from a matt board and has generous flaps. It seems odd that the quality of the cover has not been carried through to the internals of the book. It is printed on recycled stock, which is very thin and quite coarse. The text of subsequent pages is visible, as can be seen here, which might affect its readability and does feel a bit cheap. However, the book is actually quite pleasingly light in weight.

Housekeeping – Marilynne Robinson (Faber & Faber, 2005)

I had to find a way to incorporate this book into this exercise somehow. Given that on the whole the edition I own is not exactly a stunning example of book design, it fell to the cover to make a statement. It's a quiet sort of statement. One that says something to the effect of 'if you'd like to read an introspective and rather melancholy story, this is the book for you'.

A dark, empty railway track trails towards a foreboding mist into which the text is sinking. The monochromatic palette of the image is set off by the fuschia pink title. This works nicely to highlight the opposition between the exteriority of the image and the domesticity of the title.

The review material doesn't overwhelm. The Guardian review quote sits comfortably within the image and the Observer mention at the top does its job tidily against the neutral background.

This is starting to sound a bit far-fetched – a good stopping point I think ...

It's in the fine imprint

Designing children's books really must be a fun job. Certainly the best examples of designers going a bit wild with the imprint page of all things were in kids' books, such as:

The Three Fishing Brothers Gruff – Ben Galbraith (Hodder Children's Books, 2006)

Here the text has been shaped to look like splashes and bubbles of water in keeping with the story. A page containing publication information wouldn't normally be of interest to young readers, but this page is effectively a visual extension of the story.

The Video Shop Sparrow – Joy Cowley & Gavin Bishop (Mallinson Rendell, 2000)

This book similarly incorporates the imprint page as an illustration element. The information is placed within a box on the front of a building as if it is part of the signage.

For all that fun, however, when it comes to 'grown up' books, there's much to be said for achieving a simple sense of proportion and balance in the display of this information on the page. I admire the two following examples:


Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I have not visited and never will – Judith Schalansky (Particular Books, 2010)

Ghost Colonies: Failed utopias, forgotten exiles and abandoned outposts of empire – Ed Wright (Pier 9, 2009)

This book contains ...

The Endless City (Phaidon, 2007)

This contents page runs over a two-page spread. It has clear divisions between sections and the colour-coding for the different country chapters has a nice visual effect. The amount of space between the columns of information – chapter heading, author and page – is manageable for the eye. On the verso page, the page numbers perhaps run a little close to the gutter, but it's readable. Overall a pleasing, orderly layout with a bold aesthetic that's in keeping with the rest of the book.

Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands that I have not visited and never will – Judith Schalansky (Particular Books, 2010)

This contents page has a rather unusual layout in that one reads across the line from entry to entry under the section headings, rather than down the page as in the example above. The use of differing fonts – title case, caps, italics – and colours clearly distinguish the various information, however, so it is not difficult to follow. It has a delightful symmetry about it. The oval shape formed by the information on this page complements the hourglass shape of the imprint information on the verso of this spread.

A noble title

Title pages and half-title pages often follow the typographical design elements of the cover. A designer might try something a bit different, however, where the cover is more image focused for instance, in order to best communicate the information. There will usually be some commonality between a half-title page, where it exists, and the title page that follows it.

Ways of Seeing – John Berger (BBC & Penguin, 2008)

This title page is located at page 155 of the book, after the entire text. As noted earlier, this book plays with conventions of book design as a reflection of the challenges it poses to traditional modes of art criticism. This is a typographical page with no other elements than the text. Clean and functional even though its traditional function has been turned on its head.

Woe is I: The Grammarphobe's Guide to Better English in Plain English – Patricia T. O'Connor (Riverhead Trade, 2nd edition, 2004)

This is one example where following the typographical style of the cover really would have been the better choice. The style of the title page (which sets the typographical style of the rest of the book) bears no relationship to the cover and, in my view, little relationship to the book's content. It looks as if it's introducing tween fiction for girls! Thankfully, the current third edition is has eliminated all sign of spangles and wacky type.

Super Natural Cooking – Heidi Swanson (Celestial Arts, 2007)

This half-title page retains the typographical elements of both the cover and the title page. The text placement is a little unconventional, however, being slightly below the mid-point of the the page. The white type contrasts with the photograph, but not vividly. These factors might suggest that the text is secondary to the image on the page. It is appropriate that the title page that follows gives greater emphasis to the text, as this is where the any sub-title and the author's name are to be found.

Endless City (Phaidon, 2007)

Finally, a double-page chapter title. You may recall the contents page of this book was discussed earlier. On that page a colour coding system was used to identify the different city chapters. That system is implemented in the chapter titles for each city. Here, purple Shanghai. There's nothing terribly remarkable about this chapter title, but it does draw on the general typographical style – bold caps, underlining – of the cover and headings.

Odds and ends

Specifically, decorative end papers. For me, it's the little features like these that quell the notion that 'print is dead'. For books at least. It's a small thing that can add greatly to the perceived value of a book. Obviously it doesn't suit some books, but it works well in a coffee table-type book where design is a strong element. Here are some nice examples.

Classic: The Revival of Classic Boating in New Zealand – Ivor Wilkins (Godwit, 2010)

I do love a hand-drawn diagram, boats and all. This is but one of this beautiful book's beautiful features.

Atlas of Remote Islands: Fifty Islands I have not visited and never will – Judith Schalansky (Particular Books, 2010)

Old-timey maps are also among my fancies. The orange is unexpected and fantastic.

The Great New Zealand Songbook (Thom Music, 2009)

The design of this book overall isn't really my cup of tea – it's got a bit too much going on. I do think though that housing a CD (of recordings of the songs in the book) within a library card pocket on the end papers is quite nifty. It's done twice, at the beginning and the end of the book. Certainly more appealing than a plastic sleeve.

Let's get digital

Te Ara: The Encyclopedia of New Zealand – www.teara.govt.nz (Screenshots taken 23 July 2011)

Te Ara is really interesting as an example of the transition between the display of information for print and information for the web. The design and navigability has been carefully thought through and its pretty user-friendly. Soon, however, a re-design is being implemented to improve usability and update the site to current web trends. This discussion is simply a brief overview of some of the design elements as they are currently – I'll note what's changing where I remember.

Traditionally, print encyclopedias have divided information into topic categories. Te Ara essentially does the same, but its divisions are called themes and they have a different focus to traditional encyclopedias.

Shown here is a screenshot of a section of the Te Ara homepage – this is the starting point for exploring the themes. This is a pretty busy-looking page. There are so many competing elements that it's not immediately clear that the main content is found by clicking through the small thumbnails. The look of this page will change significantly after the re-design is implemented.

Shown here is the Social Connections theme main page, which uses the same thumbnail design to link to the sub-themes, such as Health and Crime.

Shown here is the Religion sub-theme main page, which again follows the thumbnail link design to list the topics under that theme.

The user can then click through to a topic main page, such as the Missions and missionaries page shown here. This includes a blurb about the whole topic to the left of the page, plus a main image and thumbnail links to sub-topics.

Te Ara also has an index of sorts, which can be accessed from any page through the tab labelled 'Browse Te Ara'. This tab isn't very noticeable on the page,  and the system of indexing is also not entirely effective. This is one element that will be changed in the re-design.

The text on Te Ara is designed to be web-friendly. For instance, Te Ara uses a a down-style of capitalisation on the site because caps are less easily read on screen.

On T y p o g r a p h y

Ways of Seeing – John Berger (BBC & Penguin, 2008)

The entire text of this book is set in a bold, sans serif type (Univers 65). The book's designer, Richard Hollis, says on his website that the intention behind this was ‘to match the visual weight of the illustrations’ (www.richardhollis.com/book-design/ways-of-seeing). I suspect this might have a limiting effect on readibility, but, well, I haven't read the book, so I don't know exactly.

Very Swiss-minimalist ... still cool in the 21st century? Probably – in the same way as fondue.

The Hare and the Tortoise – Helen Ward (Templar Publishing, 1998)

This example could have come from any children's book really – that's where the fun's to be had – hurtling the type all over the page, causing havoc. Easy to do, of course, when there's only one line of it ...

Infinite Jest – David Foster Wallace (Abacus, 2009)

Bringhurst says of text that, 'Its tone, its tempo, its logical structure, its physical size, all determine the possibilities of its typographic form.' To this end he advocates that a typographer read the text before setting it.

When I look at this book and feel the weightiness of its 1,067 pages in my hand (for I have not actually read it, you see), I am convinced that the person responsible for typesetting this book did in fact read it. Because I wonder, is the 'infinite jest' that this book is so illegible it's not actually meant to be read?

The Pinstriped Prison – Lisa Pryor (Picador, 2008)

The majority of the text in this book is set in a perfectly acceptable serif typeface, but here and there it's punctuated by these information pages. It probably was a good idea to set them in a sans serif type to set them apart, but this is just a yucky combination of typefaces. Actually, looking at the book again, it does use that first font for the running headers and folios throughout, so at least there's consistency in the ugliness. The large leading is a bit obvious too.

Culinaria Italy: Pasta, Pesto, Passion – Claudia Piras (Ullmann & Könemann, 2004)

This book aspires to great things, but it's really let down by its design. It's meant to be an authority on Italian cuisine culture and while it undoubtedly holds a wealth of great information within its 500 pages, that information is near inaccessible to the reader. This designer clearly hasn't encountered Bringhurst ...

Obviously the major problem in this example is the point size of the type, which I think is probably only about 6 or 7. This is simply too small when the intended functionality is as a cookery book. This surely leads to all kinds of mishaps in the kitchen. It seems that perhaps one solution to this was thought to be in listing the ingredients in caps, but I would argue that where all caps are used with such a small point size it simply exacerbates the problem. The instructions in the recipes are also inconsistently paragraphed – some are given that luxury, but others not.

And while not strictly a typographical error, the 'Vitello Tonnato' recipe at top left suffers greatly from the fact that it is set within a translucent white box on an illustrated background.

This is spinal chat

Great Food series (Penguin Books, 2011)

Penguin series – the ubiquitous spine display, always successful. Books in series commonly have design elements that make it clear that they are part of a series and this is often most recognisable when they are sitting on the bookshelf with spines facing out. Here it's the typeface, the pattern, the colour and the logo that draw these books together. I'm reaching for the credit card ...

The Ginger Series and Awa Science (Awa Press, 2004 onward)

And from New Zealand, here's a couple of series from Awa Press – The Ginger Series and Awa Science. This display is a bit thin on the ground I'm afraid, but it still conveys the idea.

Just as with the Penguin series, common elements on the spine indicate that these books are part of a series. As well as typeface and logo in common, the Ginger books have a banner stating the series name and the number of the book in that series. The Awa Science books have similar typeface and colour elements.

The Paris Review Book (Picador, 2003)

And now for a non-series spinal exam.

This is a hardcover book with a dust jacket, but that's not just for keeping the spine toasty warm. The spine of the jacket lists the full title of the book, this essentially being a list of the topics covered in the book: ‘Heartbreak, Madness, Sex, Love…’ This is a fun, light-hearted approach to summarising the book’s content.

Once the jacket is removed, however, things become a little more refined. The title is simply ‘The Paris Review Book’, debossed in attractive dark red foil on taupe linen-look buckram. ‘By the editors of the Paris Review’ leaves one in no doubt that this a ‘substantial’ book. So far it has sat on my shelf with the jacket on – I don’t think my cheap bookshelf is quite the place for red foil and taupe linen.

Colour my world

I looked for examples where I thought the colour reproduction was done badly, but had no success. So instead I'm showing an example of clever combination of various images due to a conscious colour palette.

The Scandinavian Cookbook – Trina Hahnemann & Lars Ranek (Quadrille, 2010)

The designer has used common colour elements to draw the various images together on the page. This colour harmony creates a relationship between the pictures of the food from the recipes and the images of the landscape, resulting in a visually appealing book.

(Those cinnamon buns are sensational – I'll bake some for Friday morning tea sometime).

The view from behind

Legend of a Suicide – David Vann (Penguin, 2008)

This book has a gorgeous front cover with blue and red embossed foil type and an image of a stylised fish decorated with a pattern of abstract shapes and mini pistols – the only element that has any relationship to the word 'suicide' in the title. The opulent foil has been done away with for the back cover, but the fish motif is repeated and acts as a frame for the blurb to sit within. This has the effect of creating a pleasing balance between text and image within the boundaries of the cover. The burden of the barcode weighs heavily on the fish's tail however.






Ghost Colonies: Failed utopias, forgotten exiles and abandoned outposts of empire – Ed Wright (Pier 9, 2009)

I really like this back cover too. The use of a full image background is successful as there are then not a great number of competing elements on the cover. The image sits behind and the blurb can do its work. Spot lamination, which is also used to highlight the text on the front cover, is used here for the boxed blurb and helps it to pop out from the muted, matt image.


Anno Domini 2000 or Woman's Destiny – Julius Vogel (Exisle Publishing, 2000)

Horrendous! Bullet points for fiction – so very bad. This is most certainly not a great work of literature, so it might be a bit disingenuous to write a tantalising blurb about the plot of this book because the reader would feel pretty cheated upon reading. The book is interesting for the ideas behind it, however, so I'd concede that describing Vogel's visions on the back cover is the probably the most appropriate approach to content there. But it remains that the two columns of bullet points are a poor display choice – not in the least because the bottom two points get lost in the encroaching image. The choice of typefaces also feels wrong, particularly as inside the book several pages of the original edition of 1889 are replicated, which makes it feel historical. I think that a much more attractive book would have resulted overall if this idea had been followed throughout.

Find it here first

The Elements of Typographic Style – Robert Bringhurst (Hartley & Marks, 2008)

Unsurprisingly perhaps, there's a great example of a well-organised index in this book. It's hardly groundbreaking stuff, but it does everything it needs to do and throws in a couple of extras. At the beginning of the left column is a note explaining that typeface names are written in italics, which clarifies the distinction between roman and italic type in the index. There is a system of indenting for sub-topics under a main listing. Readers are referred to other relevant listings by way of a 'see also' note. One little addition that I think is rather useful and which I haven't see elsewhere is the marker in the outside margin (effectively a running header) that tells the reader the alphabetical parameters of the listings on the page. A common feature in dictionaries and the like, but not often seen in indexes in general books.




Flavours of Morocco: delicious recipes from North Africa – Ghillie Basan (Ryland, Peters & Small, 2008)

An index is a very useful feature in a cookery book. In fact it is probably in recipe books that I would most frequently consult an index. This example shows a standard format whereby both recipe headings and general category headings are used. The recipes are labelled both in English and in Moroccan and the Moroccan name is set in italics in the index. Specific recipes are indented under general category headings, but are also listed on their own and not indented. Some items are listed more than once according to alphabetical order, such as 'aged butter, 11' and 'butter, aged, 11'. I expect that I would easily be able to find what I wanted using this index.

The lay of the page

'A page, like a building or room, can be of any size and proportion, but some are distinctly more pleasing than others, and some have quite specific connotations.'

The Elements of Typographic Style – Robert Bringhurst

I've chosen to show only non-fiction and reference books here because these were the most interesting layout examples that I could find. Fiction page layout seems generally to be conventional – but no doubt there are some great exceptions.

Ghost Colonies: Failed utopias, forgotten exiles and abandoned outposts of empire – Ed Wright (Pier 9, 2009)

The dimensions of this book are unusual. It measures 185 x 228 mm and is thus relatively wide in relation to its height. An elegant two-column option has been used for the main text grid, as shown above. The top margin is also generous to allow ample space for the running headers. In my opinion this is a successful solution for non-fiction narrative text. The short measure allows the reader to comfortably digest information, but it can also be read without significant interruption.

There are sections of the book, not shown here, where the text has been set in one column in order to emphasise information that is not part of the main text. In these instances, the outer margin has been increased significantly so as to avoid an excessively long measure.

Collins Gem English Dictionary (HarperCollins, 2001)

This basic, pocket-sized dictionary is, by contrast, of very modest dimensions (75 x 115 mm). It also uses a two column grid; however, the margins have been compromised to the last degree.

This is not to say that the page is particularly displeasing to the eye and it is certainly not unsuitable to the type of information it houses. The typographical choices (offsetting text using roman, bold and italics) lead to a well balanced result.

Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World – Mark Kurlansky (Vintage, 1999)

This book is thoroughly engaging and reads rather like fiction and seems designed as such. Its design is also a clear example of how keeping to convention sometimes just is the best solution. The bottom margin is the largest, being approximately one and a half times the size of the top. One can comfortably sit one's thumbs there when holding the book to read (a design guru said this was desirable, but sadly I've forgotten who that might have been).

I do wonder whether I would have so readily devoured a book about the history of the world's cod fisheries had the text been squeezed into a tight grid without room to breathe.

Roosters I Have Known – Steve Braunias (Awa Press, 2008)

A tidy format – Penguin Classic-like. I do think though that the text on the page has been compromised the littlest bit too much. The book is quite stiff and consequently the text slips into the gutter a little and it is a bit uncomfortable to read.







Super Natural Cooking – Heidi Swanson (Celestial Arts, 2007)

This cookbook has an interesting and flexible grid. These images show a recipe that sits across a two-page spread. A fair amount of information is displayed here, yet the pages are well balanced with generous white space. Throughout the book, a series of flexible text blocks are used to display different textual elements, which are shifted around the page to suit the amount of information being displayed.

Sprawltown: Looking for the city on its edges – Richard Ingersoll (Princeton Architectural Press, 2006)

Finally, here's a book that works at the boundaries of conventional layout. The top and outside margins are minimal relative to the bottom and gutter margins. I imagine this has been done to reflect the book's subject matter, as communicated by the title. It feels as if the text has been manually pushed up and outwards from the middle to the edges. Running heads have been omitted, but folios are located on the bottom outside corner of the pages (outside the scanner area).