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THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77910 *** Transcriber’s Notes: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). An additional Transcriber’s Note is at the end. * * * * * _In the Day’s Work_ * * * * * _London: Humphrey Milford_ Oxford University Press In the Day’s Work _By Daniel Berkeley Updike_ Author of “Printing Types: Their History, Forms, and Use” [Illustration] Cambridge _Harvard University Press_ _1924_ * * * * * COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY THE HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS PRINTED BY D. B. UPDIKE, THE MERRYMOUNT PRESS, BOSTON, U. S. A. * * * * * _Note_ The paper entitled “On the Planning of Printing” first appeared in _The Fleuron_, London, and is included through the kindness of its editor, Mr. Oliver Simon. “Style in the Use of Type” was originally issued in _Handicraft_, a publication of The Society of Arts and Crafts, of Boston, and is reprinted (with some slight changes) by permission of that organization. D.B.U.

The Merrymount Press June 24, 1924 _Contents_ ON THE PLANNING OF PRINTING 3 STYLE IN THE USE OF TYPE 41 THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF TYPOGRAPHY 53 * * * * * _On the Planning of Printing_ _On the Planning of Printing_ “It must of necessity be,” said Sir Joshua Reynolds, “that even works of genius, like every other effect, as they must have their cause, must also have their rules; it cannot be by chance that excellencies are produced with any constancy or any certainty, for this is not the nature of chance: but the rules by which men of extraordinary parts--and such as are called men of genius--work, are either such as they discover by their own peculiar observations, or of such a nice texture as not easily to admit being expressed in words. Unsubstantial, however, as these rules may seem, and difficult as it may be to convey them in writing, they are still seen and felt in the mind of the artist; and he works from them with as much certainty as if they were embodied upon paper. It is true these refined principles cannot always be made palpable, as the more gross rules of art; yet it does not follow but that the mind may be put in such a train that it still perceives by a kind of scientific sense that propriety which words ... can but very feebly suggest.” Sir Joshua said this in regard to painting, in his case surely the work of genius; but if we substitute for the word “genius” the word “art,” we have a quotation which is applicable even to the task of designing satisfactory pieces of typography. Although rules for designing suitable printing may seem unsubstantial and difficult to convey in words, it is still true that they are seen and felt in the mind of the worker. They are illusive rules, and yet none the less a man works from them with as much certainty as if they were set down on paper. It is because they are so illusive that many persons believe that, in designing printing, there are no rules at all; because they commonly think of rules as matters of precise measurement and definite proportion. As a matter of fact, the best rules for planning work are general rules, and rules for the mind rather than for the hand--no less real because applying to what may be called, in a sense, a spiritual matter. So in properly laying out printing (which is nothing more than successfully designing it for a given object) it is necessary to have a certain mental equipment, which is, to tell the truth, where most designers of printing fail.

Having said this, I may divide the subject into three parts: the first of which treats of the apparatus with which we work; the second, of the requirements of the persons for whom we work; and the third, of those principles on which we plan our work; or, to put it more simply, the classification of our material, our relations with customers, and how to plan the printing they ask us to do. _I. Arrangement of “Specimen-Books”_ The specimens of the type which a printing-office possesses should be arranged in orderly and convenient fashion so that the time of the man who is planning the printing may not be wasted. There is no need of going to the expense of printing elaborate volumes to show our types. A blank book in which proofs of type are pasted will do very well, or a “loose-leaf” folder is better still, as it permits additions in proper sequence. The same passage (either in Latin or English) may be used throughout the volume to show types for book-pages and the comparative amount of matter which can be set in various sizes of type. For instance, in a Caslon series the first type may be the smallest size shown; a passage of ten or twelve lines may be set in four ways, solid, and leaded with 1-point, 2-point, and 3-point leads. On the same page an alphabet of capitals, small capitals, swash letters, ligatured letters, and all the “peculiar sorts” used with that particular fount should be displayed, and the amount of type available for use should be stated. In the specimen-book arranged by the late Theodore De Vinne for the De Vinne Press, not only capitals, small capitals, lower-case, and italic in the fount were shown, but also numbers, accented letters, mathematical signs, signs of the zodiac, and every peculiar sort were displayed; and the foundry in which the type was cast was also mentioned.[1] The four variously leaded paragraphs just spoken of might occupy two facing pages.

The next two facing pages would be devoted to italic of the same size, similarly leaded. Then would come the next larger size of roman in the same series with its italic, and so on, up to great primer or 18-point, which would probably be the largest size of type used for a book-page. In any size above great primer, a few lines of roman and italic type with the alphabet and special characters could occupy a page by themselves. Transitional types treated in a like manner would come next; then modified old styles; and finally the modern faces. Special faces such as Bodoni, Garamond, or French old style, could be arranged in the same way. These might be followed by black-letters and scripts. After each series a table of graded sizes of its capital letters should be exhibited--from the smallest size of capitals to the largest, “small capitals” being inserted in their proper place, so that the variety of sizes of capitals available may be seen at a glance. By placing small tabs on the edge of the page at which each new type-family begins, marked with a number or name, much time would be saved in turning to founts one wished to look at.

Ornamental alphabets, ornaments, etc., may occupy a second division or another volume of the same size bound in another colour. In this second part, alphabets could be arranged in series, by sizes; or according to styles. Typographical “flowers” should be grouped according to size or style or arranged according to date of issue. In the specimen-book of Briquet, published at Paris in 1757, such ornaments are displayed very ingeniously. Each “flower” is numbered; a single one is first shown, and is followed by the same “flower” arranged in rows to show the effect if used as a border. Next the “flower” is shown in various combinations--back to back, in two rows together, one running in the ordinary way and the other upside down, etc. A great many effective and ingenious patterns may be made from the same ornament placed in different positions, and still greater variety can be had by combining two ornaments, as a study of old specimen-books will show. Some pages at the end of this division may be reserved for the miscellaneous type ornaments which slowly accumulate in every printing-house.

It may be said that this seems a practical plan for the man who lays out the printing, but that such a book would not be attractive to a customer choosing type. But why let a customer make a choice of type? As Fournier said, “men who pride themselves most on knowing about books, are often very much embarrassed when it comes to giving an exact idea of the kind of type in which these books are printed; ordinarily they are at a loss for the names of the types; sometimes they miscall them, but ordinarily they employ inexact expressions--saying that such a book is printed in large or small type, which only gives a vague, indeterminate idea, and means nothing at all.” And once upon a time there was an author who returned his proofs, with the message that he hoped the type would be larger when the book was printed! But by the time a customer has stated what he thinks he wants (for he does not always end by wanting what he at first thinks he does), the designer has formed an idea of the range of types which it is best to use. If a customer insists that he must see the type to be used, one or two types--either of which is suitable--may be shown him. There is something to be learned, here, from the old trick of allowing a person to choose a card from a pack, and telling him what that card will be before he looks at it. If well done, the trick never fails, because the man who is selecting the card does not really select it, but has a certain card dealt into his hand. I believe a customer should be treated in much the same way, with this difference: that instead of allowing him to think he is selecting one among fifty-two cards, I should give him (and tell him I was giving him) but four cards to choose from--all aces of different suits!

In this way a customer would certainly exercise a choice, but it would only be a choice of the four best kinds of the same thing! No one wishes to fool a customer, but it is equally unfair to permit him to fool himself. He should get what he is paying for: the best knowledge the printer possesses. _II. Relations with Customers_ Thus we have suddenly arrived at the relation of the printer to his customers. Cardinal Newman speaks somewhere of the need of practising an “economy in imparting religious truth.” This being interpreted signifies to keep back something; and has its authority in certain rather “unevangelical” passages in the New Testament, to the effect that it is at times wise to give out only as much truth as the hearer is able to bear. This is usually the part of wisdom in a printer’s treatment of a customer. He cannot be told everything; in fact, he can only be told (advantageously to himself) what it is good for him to know! Anglo-Saxons detest this kind of reasoning, because they say that it appears shifty and untruthful; but what they really subconsciously dislike is the principle of authority inherent in it.

As a race we resent experts--though all Americans, and no doubt some English, secretly believe that they are experts themselves! So, though printers often act on some such idea, they do not fancy calling it an “economy in imparting truth.” One may hold back information, but it is bad form to admit to yourself that you do, or to hold the theory that it may be defensibly done. Such people agree in principle with George III when he said, “Shakespeare often wrote sad stuff, but one must not say so.” As customers fall into many different classes, they have to be met in many different ways. They certainly sometimes bring difficult typographical problems to the printer, for which they suggest or dictate ridiculous solutions. But a printer cannot be of use to typography by dismissing their views and them. His part is to lead them into the more excellent way, by showing them what can be done to improve their work and what cannot, and by explaining the reason why. Thus he can avoid needlessly annoying a “client,” and encourage him not only to have this particular piece of work printed well, but to have more work printed better; for most people will use good types if they can only be made to see the reason of their goodness. I remember once being obliged to print, for a personage who dealt in muffins, a circular which was to show their excellence; and to this end he showed me an announcement printed in coloured ink from horrid types, on brown note-paper, with a “hemstitched” perforated edge, as a model for what was to be done.

This circular he had secured from the establishment of a milliner. His mind worked in this way: that as an expensive hat was advertised by a circular adorned with perforations, and this hat cost one hundred times more than a muffin, a circular adapted for the hat must be many times better than the ordinary method of muffin advertising! I explained that there was a suitable and even ideal way of advertising muffins as well as hats, and that to advertise a muffin as one would a hat might very likely mislead the public about its digestibility! We ended by making an advertisement which I thought pretty, and he said was extremely so, _and it sold the muffins!_ What more could you ask? Thus it is a part of wisdom, though not, alas, always of inclination, to try to teach a customer--to lead and not drive him. But there are times when, if a customer insists on employing some bad, freaky types in cheap, tawdry display of colour, you are right in telling him that he must have his work done elsewhere. That amusing person, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, in a letter to her daughter, Lady Bute, said that “people commonly educate their children as they build their houses, according to some plan they think beautiful, without considering whether it is suitable for the purpose for which they are designed. Almost all girls of quality are educated as if they were to be great ladies.

You should teach yours to confine their desires to probabilities.” And this is just as true of printing as of education or house-building, and, I am told, is a useful idea when marrying off a daughter. But customers seldom see that the essential thing in all printing is that it be suitable for the purpose for which it is designed, and printers have not based their practice on any such sensible rule. If printers had more of a standard and a stiffer one, both about the types they employ and the way in which they use them, printing would be better. The printer, if he has no standard, _must_ allow the customer to dictate his own wishes about types. He is defenseless, no matter how indefensible typographically the customer’s ideas may be. In fixed opinions of what types are good and what are bad, the average printer has been a most spiritless individual. His long-suffering has become a tradition, and for him to assert that there are things typographically which he will not do, has the expectedness of the much talked-of (but seldom seen) turning worm! Clergymen, business men, landscape architects, school teachers, and contractors all have what they call “ideas” about types and their arrangement, and make no bones about telling the printer what they are.

Yet these people are profoundly ignorant of typography. If the printer had an educated standard in typography, he could show them that they were so. But he has nothing to suggest. He is not leading, but following; if he takes any other position, it is troublesome to him and he is misunderstood by his public. Pained surprise is upon the faces of friends; annoyed resistance is shown by the customer. “Prudential reasons” are suggested by uncles, “kindness” by aunts, “horse-sense” by business acquaintances. The printer who sticks to a standard is usually supposed to be arbitrary, autocratic, wilful, conceited, and generally top-lofty. Now, he may be all this, but he is not of necessity so; and as a matter of fact, he is sometimes as weary of his standard as any customer can be. There is, however, a standard.

It can be held to, though not without trouble. The lack of it has reduced much modern printing to what it is. These are some of the difficulties we meet with in dealing with people who know little about printing and, to some extent, admit it. But there is a second class who are worse: those who take a superior tone about it and are very sure that they know the printer’s inmost thoughts. To prove this they use an inaccurate semi-technical jargon which has taught me the wisdom of never trying to talk in the terms of another person’s trade--I do not deal in architectural terms before an architect, though I may inflict them on my defenseless doctor! To the mind of this second class there are two kinds of work that a press may do, differentiated by the terms “artistic” and “commercial”--terms very carelessly and very currently used. It is often said (as if it were a compliment) that such and such a printer does not do commercial work, but only artistic. One may say that he endeavours to do _good_ work, if that is “artistic”; and he _sells_ it, so it is after all “commercial.” The rejoinder is, “But I mean printing of a commercial character, _i.e._ used in business”--the inference being that such printing cannot be “artistic” (poor, overworked word!), which, thank God, is often the case!

The real difficulty lies in what is meant by artistic printing. To my mind it means: printing as exactly and agreeably suited as possible to the object for which it is to be used--commercial printing being just as capable of possessing this excellence as any other variety. But most people, if they stopped to analyse, would find that they really meant by “artistic printing” something queer, dear, and not well adapted to daily use, delivered later than expected; and by “commercial,” something commonplace, cheap, nasty, and done in a hurry. The truth is that the best presses do but one kind of work, which is neither solely commercial nor artistic, but both, _i.e._ good. Then again, in the mind of the class of customers of whom I speak, literary interest is confused with problems of handicraft. A mere circular or an advertisement, they say, cannot be interesting to arrange. One can never make such persons understand that it is not the matter to be printed, but the problem of design presented by that matter, which is interesting to a printer. An edition of Dante may be a great bore to execute, and offer no very difficult problem; while one may be exceedingly amused and interested by a circular about tea!

To see this requires the professional point of view, and does not support the lazy generalizations of the amiable amateur. He will continue to call printing “very artistic” and “only commercial,” and rather fancy that he commends himself to a printer by so doing. Perhaps it may be said that in old times there was not such a variety of types as there is now, or so many kinds of work to be done. This is true. But it is quite easy to restrict the repertoire of types in any office to _good types_ and to permit their use only in legitimate ways. The earliest printers were often learned men, and yet perhaps their contemporaries thought that they took themselves too seriously. But what they took seriously was not themselves, but their work. They were educated enough and independent enough to hold to certain ideals.

If Aldus had watered down his manner of printing and continually varied his types to suit other people’s views, he would never have been heard of. None the less, the heads of contemporary Italian uncles and aunts were sadly shaken, perhaps, and friends of the family were seriously distressed. We remember the types and books of Aldus still; but the names of these “wise and prudent” are forgotten. _III. Some Principles in Planning Printing_ The man who has to plan or lay out a piece of printing should pause a few moments before he attacks his problem, and his plan is best made alone in a quiet room (from which examples of other people’s work are banished) wherein is a large table, and on it nothing but the manuscript of the work to be arranged and a book of specimens of types. Supposing the work to be planned is a book: give thought not only to what the book is about and to the author from whom the work emanates, but to the public for whom it is intended, and to its trade conditions; and in this light examine the manuscript from beginning to end. By the time the designer has done this, some mental picture of what seems a good typographic form for the work will present itself; and his “job” is to express this image in terms of type. “The prophetic eye of taste” (wrote the poet Gray), “when it plants a seedling, already sits under the shadow of it, and enjoys the effect it will have from every point of view that lies in the prospect.” So it must be with the designer of printing: he should be able to visualize the effect of his work in its finished form before a single type is set. Furthermore, in planning this book one must think of its purpose, of its convenience to the reader for that purpose--and remember, also, any requirements as to uniformity with other books or other series. The plan must also provide for illustrations, if such there are to be, and determine how they are to be rendered; for these have a distinct relation to type, which must in some way be made to harmonize with them.

Finally, there is the question of limitation of expense, and the price at which the book is to sell, which will give some idea of how much can be spent upon it. All this has to be thought out. And after that we may proceed to choose the type which we think will best suit the above requirements. Having done this, take from the manuscript those pages which give (1) a solid mass of text; (2) tabular or unusual matter; and (3) quotations or poetry. The page of solid matter, already mentally designed, being the norm, one can then judge how successfully this imaginary page will permit the introduction of those various features which the unusual pages demand. Some of those latter features may require a modification of the imaginary normal page. But if the imaginary page, with these exceptions in view, is successfully designed, it can be set up. If this preliminary work is conscientiously done, that which results from it will be good, because so well adapted for its purpose as to appear inevitable.