Books are meant to be read. Well, most of them are; some are meant for leisurely browsing, others for reference, still others just to make a dramatic visual impact. Typography is essential to all of these. How does typography work in different kinds of books and with different purposes? ¶Type has functioned differently at different times and places. ¶The hand written pages of a medieval psalter gave monastery students and young nobles learning Latin a handy, compact tool for study, rereading, and contemplation. The lettering had to be legible and familiar; it also had to be beautiful, and it was often accompanied by small but lavish illustrations. ¶The elegant French types used in so many books published in 16th-century Paris looked beautiful but also advanced François I’s agenda of making French the language of literature and government, in place of the pan-European standard of Latin. The king was intent on unifying the French kingdom and strengthening his central power, and printing was one of many tools for the job. ¶The formal pages of exquisite Bibles, Torahs, and Korans frequently incorporate several layers of commentary, in multiple languages and sometimes multiple scripts. ¶In the late 1940s, the typography of Penguin Books under Jan Tschichold’s direction set a standard of readability and unpretentious quality that generations of English language paperback readers took for granted, hardly noticing the simple elegance that would get out of their way and let them just read. ¶Let’s take a broad look at the typography of books, from the minute details that make a readable paragraph to the expressive typography of a coffee table tome or the complexity of a scientific reference book—including the potentials and pitfalls of technological change in how books are designed, produced, and read.
The Typography of Books
