Customer Reviews

An Essay on Typography

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This multi-faceted book is a gem. It was written in a period when Industrialism was increasingly establishing itself over Craftsmanship. Gill starts by analyzing the clash between these two worlds, then goes on to situate typography in this melee. Most of the book concerns Gill's views on correct typography, some of which seem quirky. Gill is unique: his forward style and searing insight are inspiring and refreshing, even after six decades. The last section of the book is Gill's proposal to convert written English into phonetic writing, avoiding spelling/pronunciation inconsistencies and increasing efficiency. It makes great sense - typical Gill

I noticed few reviews for this book, so it had to be said. At once a historical view of typography as well as universal ideals still applicable to modern design. Eric Gill was a genius, and his timeless typefaces were the only window I knew him through before I read this book. This is the sort of book that you finish and then go look for more books like it; my favorite kind.

This essay on typography is actually an essay on far more. It goes well with William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement, in its nostalgia for the 'humane' individual craftsman over the commerce and industry. Gill comes back, again and again, to question the proper places of mass production and handwork with respect to each other. He was an idealistic, but still realized that industry was here to stay - it could not (and still can not) simply be wished away. The real goal is "an industrialism ... [with] many noble and admirable features."

Gill uses typography and printing as the vehicle for his social thoughts, and offers a good bit of advice on typography throughout. He discusses letter forms as ethetic, practical, and historical objects - especially interesting from a man who made so much typographic history himself.

I never did quite work my way through all of his social arguments, however. He seems to hold "engineers" as the opponents of art and perhaps creativity. I known that many engineers then and now lack training in esthetics and visual presentation. Anyone who's seen the Brooklyn Bridge or Eiffel Tower knows, however, that engineering is also a creative act. Gill ridiculed the practice of one worker designing a font, a second preparing it for transfer to metal, another cutting the master tools for each letter, and so on. I have to agree, the assembly line mentality is not suited to all tasks, especially when each product is as unique as a letter form. Still, among all arts, printing is perhaps the one most typified by team effort and division of labor. It would be a very rare individual who could create a text worth reading, create the font in which it is presented, set the type and run the press, and carry out all the other tasks needed to create a bound book. The question is not whether parts of a job should be handed to different specialists, but which jobs should be subdivided - a question I never saw answered.

This is a wonderful work by a man whose livelihood, art, and spiritual life all worked closely together. I recommend it to anyone who works in the arts, not just those with an interest in type.

Eric Gill (22 February 1882 - 17 November 1940) was an English artist (sculptor, stonecutter, typeface designer, printer) and social commentator. He was an early advocate of Distributism -- a socialist Roman Catholic economic philosophy formulated by G.K. Chesterton and others which sought to bring the benefits of industrial capitalism to the masses. Since his death he has received strong criticism because of his somewhat disturbing sex life, which he recorded in his diary, and which was exposed in Fiona MacCarthy's 1989 biography. As often happens, the controversy has brought his artistic works that much more attention (and praise).

As the title suggests, "An Essay on Typography" (first published in 1931) discusses typography. Gill's credentials as a type-designer include the still-popular Gill Sans and Perpetua typefaces. The book itself is set in his Joanna face. I found it quite enjoyable to read. The pages are typeset according to his suggestions (in the chapters "The Procrustean Bed" and "The Book") for page layout: even spacing between words, 10-12 words per line, sufficient line space. The bottom margin is larger than the others, as he recommends, for ease of holding the book. Unfortunately I never hold a book at the bottom (when using one hand I hold it at the top; with two, at the sides). For the most part his notions of good type design and page layout are the same as you hear web designers periodically proclaiming today.

There is a chapter on lettering, giving a very brief history of the roman alphabet. And the next chapter is on the three alphabets in use by printers: uppercase, lowercase, and italics.

I would argue that the main theme of the book is not typography, however, but rather on the conflict between assembly-line style industrialism and the art of handicrafts at the beginning of the 20th century. Gill tries to make the case that industrial manufacturing methods and the methods of the craftsman fulfill completely different roles in society, and so are not actually in conflict. Both have their place.

He is concerned, however, that each method should stick to its own proper idea of aesthetics. Industry is good at mass producing things inexpensively using machines (and humans who are treated like machines). These mass produced goods should not try to imitate handicrafts, because mass-produced fanciful flourishes end up looking and feeling fake. Commercial posters attempting to shout each other down have turned to heavier (bolder) fonts, and have ruined legibility. Likewise with flyers using a jumble of typefaces to attract attention.

He is finally able to clearly express his concept of the complete separation between industrialism and handicrafts by the later chapters. For example from the chapter on "The Instrument":

"The time has come when the handicraftsman should cease altogether either to rail at him [the industrialist] or envy him. Let each go his own road."

And the roles of each:

"The industrialist makes no claim to produce works of art; he does so nevertheless -- when he is not imitating the art works of the past. The artist makes no claim to serve his fellow men; nevertheless he does so -- when he is not wholly led astray by the notion that art is self-expression of the expression of emotion."

Also in the chapter on "The Book," after discussing some economic considerations of publishing, Gill concludes:

"Whether, as seems probable, industrialism win a complete victory, or human nature so far reassert itself as to overthrow industrialism, is not here our concern. For the present we hold simply to the conviction that the two principles and the two worlds can exist side by side [...]"

As a stenography enthusiast the last chapter, "But Why Lettering?", was a very pleasant surprise. Gill points out the lack of consistency between the sounds of spoken English and the roman letters used to represent them. As a solution he advocates the roman alphabet be replaced by a phonographic alphabet like those used in shorthand systems! He devotes several pages to anticipating the charge that shorthand is ugly. This leads me to believe he was only familiar with the Pittman system and had not seen the cursive Gregg system which was dominant in America at the time. He rightly points out that current shorthand systems sacrifice legibility for speed, whereas a system designed to replace the alphabet for everyday writing would have to be completely unambiguous (everyday writing doesn't require real time transcription, anyway).

The last chapter also has a cute bit where he uses Adam Smith's example of the specialization required to manufacture a pin to conclude that capitalism is the most cooperative system ever developed.

Abolutely exciting.
Is get in, in the mind of Eric Gill, know more for him, and the world of this time.

As a type enthusiast, everything about this book made it enjoyable to read -- the form factor, Gill's distinctive typesetting, and wide-ranging subject matter. While there is still plenty of hard advice about how to properly use type, I found Gill's exploration of the man-versus-machine design conundrum far more engaging: it's a profound look at the role of the artisan in an increasingly automated world.

Aunque Eric Gill es un personaje de grandes claroscuros, su trabajo como artista es impresionante. Este libro no solo toca el tema tipográfico, sino sus ideas del arte y la relación con la industria de su época.

Es un poco difícil separar los grandes ideales que escribe y la realidad de su vida, en algunos momentos suena falso y vacío.

Aun así es un gran libro, un clásico de la tipografía. Escrito por alguien que no logró integrar en su vida lo que decía y lo que hacia.

This book has the details and history anyone drawn to printing and writing will savor.