Book design needs more attention than it gets. I was all primed to write up some fine recent examples of the art that I’ve recently come across, except I got completely distracted by stumbling upon a ridiculously good series put out by Penguin, called Great Ideas. The third edition of this set got plenty of attention from blogs when it came out recently, but it turns out the entire line, from series 1-3, is absolutely packed with great typography and some fresh, creative cover work done within the self-imposed constraints of a run like this.
The idea behind the titles is simple: the biggest of the world-changing “idea” books in digestible, consistent forms. It should be noted these aren’t really “books” at all; most of them are treatises, essays, or the most important extracts from larger works. All of them are well and seriously chosen, but running through the whole series is a light, joyful touch that never lets up, and comes through in the design. These are playful covers and even more playful titles: there was never actually a book by Frederick Nietzsche entitled Why I Am So Wise, but there is now (it was, however, originally a well-titled chapter in his Ecce Homo).
Simon Winder, who edits the series, explains that “the intention with each book was to isolate it and represent it to modern readers so that they can relive in some measure just what made the writing so urgent and astonishing at the time.”
Speaking of isolating good writing, I’ve never seen another series of books in which prose extracts were used to such perfect effect on the front covers. Look at Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations! “A little flesh, a little breath, and a reason to rule all–that is myself.” Laid out like it is, the extract takes on far more weight than were it lost on the back flap, center-justified and surrounded by vague ellipses; it begs to be read. And then we have The Communist Manifesto cover, which shows deference to the importance of its original text while having fun with the hyperbolic prose any such manifesto is bound to contain–and this is still just the first series.
Looking at the blue-themed second set, The Book of Revelation and the Book of Job is sending me out to the bookshelf to find a bible right now, while Marco Polo’s Travels in the Land of Kubilai Khan makes the man with words of praise. And for anyone who’s read Camus’s The Myth of Sisyphus, and found it memorable, you’ll fall in love with what Penguin’s done.
Finally we come to the third series: everyone got real excited for Walter Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, and justifiably so (it’s the one with all the repeating spines displayed as its cover). I say any piece of good design that draws people towards the endless well of Benjamin’s beautiful writing is nothing less than a positive addition to the good of the whole damn world. You’ve probably also noticed that the series has switched to green by this point, while my coveting of the entire run has switched to a kind of obsessive panging. A great Kierkegaard cover and Ralph Waldo Emerson’s most famous essay round out the sampling.
Finding great book design that’s consistently held up over the course of sixty titles is a rare thing indeed, and Penguin should be celebrated for it. And I’ll do that, then–celebrate them, I mean–somehow or other. There’s probably some wine here somewhere.
Big words from the publisher:
Throughout history, some books have changed the world. They have transformed the way we see ourselves - and each other. They have inspired debate, dissent, war and revolution. They have enlightened, outraged, provoked and comforted. They have enriched lives - and destroyed them. Now Penguin brings you the works of the great thinkers, pioneers, radicals and visionaries whose ideas shook civilization, and helped make us who we are.
