For Book Set 2, I’ll be focusing on ‘Cobden-Sanderson and the Doves Press: Arts and Crafts Typography’, a composite of all books printed by the Doves Press in its approximate sixteen year lifespan.

A finely crafted book itself, as if to mirror its prestigious contents, ‘Arts and Crafts Typography’ (as I will refer to it throughout the rest of this post) was interesting to me not because of its aesthetic beauty. Yes, the paper it was printed upon is obviously handmade; it utilizes various shades of roman types, including a particularly elegant italic introduction; and it certainly bears the heavy coloring of a Cobden-Sanderson-inspired work, a transparent and graceful vehicle for communication. But if I wanted to discuss spectacle, I would have picked The Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, which practically oozes ornament (a trait I admit I itched to write about at first. Gosh, so pretty).

I was more interested in ‘Arts and Crafts Typography’ for its palimpsestual element. I enjoy seeing the history of a book layered within its own pages, and I felt unnatural fondness for whatever blatantly disrespectful student started doodling in one of the pages of the Encyclopedie, from last week’s book set. In this case, ‘Arts and Crafts Typography’ includes a page from one of Cobden-Sanderson’s works, a small German leaflet in spiky blackletter. The leaflet is, as the introduction proudly proclaims, made of vellum, and this is telling, I think. I did some quick-dip research into John Henry Nash, the publisher of this composite, and he appeared to be an admirer and, frequently, partaker of the Arts and Crafts movement Cobden-Sanderson represented. And he’s Canadian, which is hilarious to me for some reason.

John Henry Nash waxes rhapsodic about the Arts and Crafts movement in his introduction, describing the handmade ‘book beautiful’, a concept begun and perpetuated by William Morris. His decision to make this testament a handmade book itself is proof of Nash’s sentiment for the books he’s compiling. However, the single vellum page in the beginning of his book is what drew my attention most, because it was a nod to the reverence the art of bookmaking had, even in the early 20th century. The contrast between the handmade paper Nash used and the rich vellum he praises in its pages is poignant; and the page he used, a German work in blackletter, seems indicative of a respect for past tradition. It’s charming and a bit encouraging to see the industry and art of bookmaking begin to reflect upon itself.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” I did not take this advice. I found I was drawn to books with elaborately decorative bindings or those which were delicate and simple, their cleanliness evoking a sort of mystery which drew me in to explore what delightful illustrations could be held within.

My favorite experience was looking through the Nuremberg Chronicle. I enjoyed looking at the illustrations and finding where blocks may have been re-used.

It was thrilling to be able to understand what was being described due to the availability of a faithful translation. Knowledge of their meaning brought life to the illustrations which before had been bizarre and perplexing. But reading the translation was not enough — I wanted the real thing. I was able to find matching pages and read through them line-by-line. I wish we had translations for all of the different texts.

One book that I spent a lot of time with was The complaint and the consolation, or Night Thoughts by Edward Young, illustrated by William Blake (1797).  What I liked about the book was that I could see how it was restored and rebound years ago.  (I’m guessing) that the paper wasn’t very strong, and so it ripped over time.  When it was fixed, the restorer used a different, stronger type of paper, much like the Asian paper sample we saw in class.  I would have preferred if the restorer had made it look as similar to the original as possible, but I also loved being able to more easily see its history.

Another book that I spent a lot of time with was De humani corporis fabrica librorum epitome, by Andreas Vesalius (1566).  The detail in the illustrations was incredible, especially when it is so old.  I found it interesting that, in some of the drawings, the humans were still dressed and they were usually in very strange poses.  There was one page with a man in full battle armor, but the section covering his stomach was missing to show his intestines.  It made me think that it was drawn so that when killing someone on the battle field, you would know what you are stabbing at.  Other diagrams looked like he was peeling the man apart layer by layer, which may be because he was a teacher, and that is how he did dissections in lectures.

I was fascinated by Andreas Vesalius’ De humani corporis fabrica librorum epitome made in 1565. Although, all of the books in this first set were interesting in their materials, covers, letterform and imagery this book stood out as unique in many ways.

The images of the bodies were extremely detailed, much more so than the other humans featured in books like the Liber Chronicum. Due to this detail it seems that Versalius must have observed actual bodies instead of just drawing from other’s drawings as seen in Herbarius Latinus. The detail in the illustrations suggest that they were made from engravings rather than the formerly used woodcuts. Allowing for so much detail shows how education was effected by the emerging technologies in print. The book was set up in the traditional way with a separation between bodies of text and the images. However, all the muscles and organs were labeled which created a blend between the visual letterform and art.

Before developing these technologies only a few people who were trained or worked on bodies would have known what muscles and organs looked like. This book creatively shows the detail of a body without having to learn from a lifeless illustration of a corpse.  Instead it is enriched with the lively illustrations, which make the science of the human body more accessible to people who aren’t used to seeing such typical anatomy pictures. The images show the various muscle groups on graphically posed bodies, the skin hangs off the exposed muscle like a layer of clothing. Seeing the bodies exposed in such a way is unlike any other anatomy book I have seen and offers a more abstract approach to understanding the human body.