Hey, I hope you’re safe and well. I’m a little bit ahead of schedule because fall sales conference season is upon us, and I have to be in New York for work next week. I’m less ahead than I would’ve liked — PRINT has already beaten me to the punch! — but here we are, a couple of days earlier than usual, with another look at some new and recent book covers. April is National Poetry Month in the US so there are a few poetry covers in the mix, as well as a couple of covers from independent presses, an Australian cover, and all the usual suspects.
The Formula by Joshua Robinson and Jonathan Clegg; design by Pete Garceau (Mariner Books / March 2024)
Two nonfiction sports books in one post! Does Formula One really count as a sport? Not for me, Clive. But the subtitle says it is, and a Canadian friend once told me that for something to qualify as a sport it has to endanger your life in some fundamental way, so I guess F1 qualifies under Quebec Rules for Teen Boys if nothing else.
Anyway, it might be fun to do a post of interesting sports books covers at some point if I can find the time (let me know if any great examples come to mind!).
I feel like this is a bit different for a psychological thriller? I like the type a lot.
Knife by Salman Rushdie; design by Arsh Raziuddin (Random House / April 2024)
Interestingly, there is an “eye” motif on the spine with the Random House logo in the centre. Look for it next time you’re in a bookstore.
Also, this cover isn’t the first to riff, consciously or otherwise, on the cut canvases of Italian artist Lucio Fontana. The cover of Ball by Tara Ison, designed by Kelly Winton, comes to mind. I’m sure there are other examples (David Gee’s unpublished cover for Lolita. Are the more?).
This reminded me of Eric’s illustrations for the covers of Jeff Vandermeer’s Southern Reach trilogy designed by Charlotte Strick.
Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer (US); design by Charlotte Strick; Illustration by Eric Nyquist (FSG / 2014)Acceptance by Jeff VanderMeer (US); design by Charlotte Strick; Illustration by Eric Nyquist (FSG / 2014)
2019 has felt interminable. It has also felt like there are never enough hours in the day to keep up. You can’t talk to me about TV shows or movies. I haven’t seen any.
When it comes to books, I’m fortunate enough to work in the industry. But what hope do casual readers have of finding the good stuff when the same few titles dominate the conversation and there is so much else competing for their attention?
Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid; design by Caroline Teagle Johnson (Ballantine / March 2019)
Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid; design by Lauren Wakefield (Hutchinson / March 2019)
Daisy Jones and the Six had a glamorous, louche 1970s look. The US and UK editions, designed by Caroline Teagle Johnson and Lauren Wakefield respectively, took slightly different directions with the type, but the photograph (a stock image apparently) felt ideally suited to social media.
The Testaments by Margaret Atwood; design by Noma Bar (Chatto & Windus / September 2019)
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood; art direction by Christopher Moisan; illustration by Patrik Svensson (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt / April 2017)
The Testaments was everywhere and, like the recent Vintage Classics reissue of The Handmaid’s Tale, the cover illustration was unmistakably by Noma Bar. We live in an age where every cult movie and TV show gets a ‘minimalist’ poster now, and I found that The Testaments looked too familiar for me to find it engaging. It didn’t help that the cover of the 2017 US reissue of the The Handmaid’s Tale by Swedish illustrator by Patrik Svenson had already featured a similar 3/4s silhouette. Nevertheless, it was perhaps a bolder cover choice than I’m giving it credit for. If nothing else, it showed that bright green on book covers — once cursed and reviled — is suddenly all the rage!
In terms of trends, 2019 felt more like a continuation of previous years rather than a break with the past. There was a kind of conservatism to a lot of the covers I saw. My sense was that highly polished designs that looked comfortingly familiar were being approved over riskier ones that stood out from the crowd. The most interesting covers often came from small publishers, especially New Directions who seem to be giving a bit more creative license to the designers they work with (some of whom have 9-5s at much bigger publishers!).
Big centred blocks of utilitarian white type over elaborate backgrounds continued to be a mainstay. It’s the book cover as poster, and it works at any size, so I don’t think it’s going away any time soon.
Handwriting and hand-lettering remained popular too, although my sense is that enthusiasm is starting to wane as publishers are opting for greater legibility and designers are turning back to vintage type styles to give a sense of authenticity and craft. (I’m willing to admit the evidence might not back me up on this, however!)
Fun, swishy 1970s-inspired serifs like Benguiat Caslon revival Cabernet are back. People keep trying to make ITC Avant Garde — another iconic 1970s typeface — happen again too. I don’t think it works for the most part, but I can see why designers think it’s cool in a coked-up New York way. Warren Chappell’s earnest calligraphic sans serif Lydian, originally released in 1938, continued its unlikely rise as a go-to literary typeface. It even got an explainer at Vox.
Lie With Me by Philippe Besson; design by Na Kim (Scribner / April 2019) 19)
Black and white portrait photography has been the staple of biographies and classics for years, so it was interesting to see closely cropped black and white photographs used on the covers of a couple of new literary novels this year. This isn’t entirely new obviously. Black and white photography has long been used to signify that something is “art” (as opposed to, say, “pornography”). But I think the latest iteration of trend was started by Cardon Webb‘s 2015 cover for A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara which used a black and white photograph by the late Peter Hujar.
Coincidentally the cover of the US edition of Garth Greenwell’s new novel Cleanness, publishing early 2020, was designed by Thomas Colligan and uses contemporary black and white photograph by Jack Davison. (The UK edition, designed by Ami Smithson fits this trend a little less neatly, but features black and white photograph by Mark McKnight)
Something that I didn’t anticipate was the use of contemporary landscape and figure painting on the covers of some the big literary releases of the year. Like black and white photography, it felt almost pre-digital — a grasp at traditional values of craft. I don’t know if I would go as far as to say it is a rejection of post-modernism. But maybe it is? I don’t know. Discuss amongst yourselves.
The Innocents by Michael Crummey; design by Emily Mahon; art by Diana Dabinett (Doubleday / August 2019)
The World Doesn’t Require You by Rion Amilcar Scott; design by Laywan Kwan; art by Fahamu Pecou (Liveright / August 2019)
Thank you to all the designers and art directors who’ve been in touch and helped me identify covers for my posts. I’m sorry if I haven’t replied to your message. It’s been a year.
Swishy retro fonts are definitely a ‘thing’ now. In this instance I believe the font is Cabernet JF — an unofficial revival of Benguiat Caslon — which has been mentioned here before. The sans is Futura of course. I rather rashly went on record not so long ago saying Futura is a little overused on university press covers (much to the chagrin of Robert Bringhurst!), but I think it works here.
(There is probably a post to be had of covers that feature ‘guns’ made of other things. Although I’m struggling to think of any other examples off the top of my head, so maybe I’m thinking of artworks and/or magazine covers? Or just imagining it?)
I would have have a hard time telling you which country these covers came from if I didn’t already know. Using the US spelling “Travelers” on the UK cover confuses the issue, but I don’t think either cover looks particularly American, which is kind of interesting. Michael Morris recently discussed his version with Spine.
The cover of the UK edition of Turbulence, published at the end of last year by Jonathan Cape, reminded me of Anne Twomey’s 2015 cover for Munich Airport by Greg Baxter…
Interestingly, the barcode on the front of the UK edition actually works. You can read an interview from earlier this year with designer Rosie Palmer about the UK cover over at Spine.
Very Nice by Marcy Dermansky; design by Janet Hansen; ice rendered by Justin Metz (Knopf / July 2019)
Thanks to a combination of disk storage issues, the AUPresses Book, Jacket, and Journal Show, breaking my wrist, general anxiety, and utter despair at the latest round of horror, corruption and lies to the south, this month’s covers post is…well, late. Fuck it. Donate to a good cause. 1
Aroused by Randi Hutter Epstein; design Zoe Norvell (W.W. Norton / June 2018)
There have been a number of covers making use of work by famous photographers in recent months. I think the risk of this approach is that the image overwhelms the text. If the photograph is so important, perhaps it is better to just to get out of the way and let it speak for itself? (If, ahem, the ‘interested parties’ will let you, of course!)
The cover for the US edition, published by Henry Holt, was designed by Nicolette Seeback. For me, it’s made by the cat wrapping around the spine onto the back cover. Listing the ten arguments on the back is also a really nice touch.
The Canadian edition, published by Knopf Canada and designed by Leah Springate, takes a photographic approach. I think it’s a good example of how the Canadian market can be quite different from the UK (and the US)…