On Holistic Book Design

Holistic (or what is sometimes called “systematic”) book design is a concept that has been written about extensively in the past. But it is not an idea I originally approached from a place of scholarship. It is the idea, in fact, that drew me to book design in the first place. This was towards the end of my college years, circa 2012. Two memories stick out from this time, one general and one specific.

First Memory
In my creative writing degree, studying and writing poetry, I found myself drawn to indie publishers who took care with an “overall” approach to design, whether in aesthetics or in system. Aesthetic example: Matvei Yankelevich’s Ugly Duckling Press, which published experimental works in experimental styles, yet maintained an overall very organic, elegant style in all their titles. I remember specifically that each book was not bound to a certain trim size, and books could arrive from UDP in all manner of formats. I was drawn to the “craft” of book design through UDP and other publishers. They focused my attention on the book as object. Systemic example: Wave Books, whose covers follow a rigorous formula restricting ink color to black and paper to an organic matte off-white. There are a limited number of trim sizes with few exceptions, and the designs are mostly typographic. They are gorgeous both individually and when viewed as a whole.

What was true about both of these publishers, and others I was drawn to, was their approach to interior design as it relates to the cover. Interiors were not necessarily “derivative” of the cover, but I never found myself in that awkward intellectual design place where I wondered if the cover and interior designer never even spoke to each other. It is perhaps the material quality of these books I sensed as holistic, but from my memory, the designs, too, were “married” in some way. This was only clear to me in contrast to other publishers, mostly of non-poetry and from what I now recognize as “trade” publishers. These books, quite often, felt like two pieces glued together (or sometimes three). Jacket, pages, and often the case, seemed out of sync. I later learned about various concepts—cover as “marketing tool,” later paperbacks, reprints, etc—that explained some of this phenomena. Overall though, and to this day I believe this: that some publishers do not see the merit of an interior design that relates to the cover, and vice versa. I believe this because of research, and also based on experience working for some of these publishers.

Second Memory
Does anyone besides me find the experience of John Berger’s Ways of Seeing traumatic? Just me? I’ve actually changed opinions on this over the years, but when I was first assigned WoS in art school, my immediate reaction was one of disgust. It is what I would now call post-modern book design, or, if I’m being generous, “asymmetrical.” It offends me in many ways, and did even when I did not know what any of the following terms meant. It is set entirely in Univers Bold, with emphasis set in the regular weight italic. Why the two degrees of separation? I don’t know. But wait, there’s more. The first line indentation is close to 12 picas. The text is set rag-right with no hyphenation, on a narrow measure. The resulting rag is terrible. There are practically no margins. It’s as if an American designer approached Swiss typography and said “Grids? White space? Who needs ‘em?” And one last thing, which I mention here because now I consider it to be fairly genius: the cover features a page from the interior of the book, cut off at the bottom so anyone looking at the cover can “start” reading the book but then be left with a [ . . . ] cliffhanger.

The book startled me in a purely design sense. And so I credit it with jarring me awake to this notion that it is people, in all their flaws and bureaucratic committees, who design books.

And so I sought to also design them. I have been thinking about holistic book design ever since.

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16 December 2021
Last week I started a new job as senior book designer at UC Press in Berkeley, California. One of the first things I was told on the job was “please don’t mention original design” in regards to interior pages. Seems an opportunity to mention “original design” under my breath while anyone is passing by. I’m intrigued by the system of standard interior templates used at UC, and already feeling ripe to dismantle it.