Ace Jet 170

Redacted

 

It was Culture Night. My eldest teenager was heading into Belfast with some 'friends' to wallow in the free culture dripping from every corner and crevice of the city centre.

I'd never been to Culture Night in Belfast, even though I'd heard it's a great night to be out in; I'm too miserable for such free and easy public expressions of culture. No, The Night of Culture is a night for me to stay home and close the curtains. Batten down the hatches in case some culture breaks free and catches the bus out to the suburbs where we live – I keep a large stick by the front door just in case some culture comes a'knocking.

Of course, my son was really out talking to girls, his interest in an evening of extreme free-roaming culture thinly masking his real motivation.

At least my other son was safe at home.

Not for long. His mate Patrick rang and asked if he'd like to go to Culture Night. Wrenched from the comfort of our comfortable sofa (with matching very large food stool – it's soooo comfy) we head city-centre-wards; the two children too young to roam free on Crazy Night without an adult within rescue distance.

Once in town I was soon abandoned and wandered the cultural streets in search of a familiar face. Instead I discovered a familiar place –  Keats & Chapman open late to cash in on the culture punters, so in I went, with cash (K&C is the city's finest book cave and it flipped my evening better side up).

Top find: This Penguin Education edition of 'Academic Freedom', circa 1974, with a top notch cover by Omnific/Peter Thompson.

 

読書

 

My summer read. 

Japan is stalking me. From the corner of my eye I see it, spying on me; following me. From the shelves of a shop; from a painting; whispering, it calls to me through my phone's podcast app…(the flipping weirdo); I bump into it, disguised as a postage stamp that just 'happened' to be passing my way; it sends my son models (better call the police).

It tricks me into letting it in by wearing a rather attractive jacket. 

I was talking about Japan with a friend of mine recently, around a camp fire, as it happens – so I was reminded of Jun'Ichirō Tanizaki's In Praise of Shadows which Rob and Jon recommended via the North v South podcast.

I was telling Mike about Seth's Gundam habit and Mike was telling me about his mate that worked out there for a few years. Specifically, Mike remarked about quite how different his mate found the culture – for example, when travelling on the tube, unless you know the language it's incredible hard to recognise your destination by the station signs.

Reading these short stories gives you an inkling of the differences too; in the lifestyle and also in the format and style of stories.

The collection is compiled to demonstrate a broad Japanese brush so stories range wildly from matters of culture and honour to family, sex and nature with some translated from nineteenth century texts and others from modern work. So far, all are beautiful and 'other landly' – even the gruesome description of a Samurai's ritualistic suicide in 'Patriotism' almost moved me to tears, wrapped as it was in his motivation for such an extreme act and his wife's devotion and support…best you read it yourself, I can't possibly do it justice here.

 

The cover design is by Matthew Young and uses an illustration – Local Training the Country from Don't Give up Japan, 2012 by Hiroyuki Izutsu.

Homage to Romek

 

Around the middle of 2017 I made one of these, just for the pleasure of sewing those lines and pinning those pins: The Marber Grid, rendered in cotton thread and map pins on a canvas board. A tribute to Romek's very clever system that brought unity to so many Penguin and Pelican covers through the 60s and 70s.

It was pretty well received on the social medias back then and again more recently when I made one for friend-from-the-internet Daniel Benneworth-Gray. So I'm now making them them to order — there are a few of them out there now, hanging on various walls.

The grid is re-created, by hand, at actual size, as the great designer intended it, i.e. Penguin and Pelican paperback size.

I've mounted mine in a 30 x 40cm Gunnabo from IKEA but they don't seem to be available now so I've switched to the Hovsta (available in dark brown, medium brown and birch). These have the necessary extra depth for the map pins and I'd be happy to supply the 'Homage' framed the same way, or you can take care of framing yourself.

There's a bit of work involved but I'm keeping my pricing as tight as a taut thread, hence: 
Framed: £75 / Unframed: £65

Happy to include UK postage and packaging in that cost but will have to charge a little extra if you're further afield – I'll let you know how much before you commit. If you'd like one email me by clicking here. We can arrange payment through PayPal (if you don't have an account it's really easy to sign up). Allow around two to three weeks for me to make your 'Homage to Romek'.

 

Map pins mark the critical grid points:

One grey thread represents the broken line on RM's original drawing.

Click each image for a closer look.

 

—
Post updated 31.12.17

More Scores

A few more scores in now. The patterns are beautiful but every time I pick one of these up I marvel at the exquisite typography. Can't remember if it was Tschichold who was responsible for these – or maybe it was Hans Schmoller – but when I see them I see that photo of Jan in my head. This one.

Millennium Falcon

I don't really go in for Penguin's Peregrine series. The books are too high-brow for the likes of comprehensive school educated me and I've never really felt that the cover designs hang together or stand out that well, unlike their aviary-mates. But Graham Bishop's cover for Y4 (Shakespeare's History Plays), first published by Peregrine in 1962, caught my eye and makes me think further investigations might change my mind. '62 was the year Peregrine's were first published, The Penguin Collectors' Society's Penguin Companion describes them as, "uncompromisingly academic", AKA "a bit dull". To start off with they were all about literary and historical criticism then in the '70s, the focus turned to more sociological matters, AKA "still a bit dull".

OK, "dull" is probably quite unfair but what definitely isn't dull is that lovely mark by the masterful Hans Schleger. If you're quick you could pick up a used copy of Pat Schleger's book on Hans for a ridiculous 98p on Amazon.

Business As Usual

And you don't get more "normal" than a Penguin cover from Alan Aldridge.

Abram Games and Penguin Books

In 1956, Penguin's Head of Design Hans Schmoller asked Abram Games to come on board as a Consultant Art Director. The publisher was about to embark on its first foray into the world of the full colour pictorial cover. A bold and ill-fated move; the experiment was short-lived as the public were confused by such unnatural work.

Strange to think that mere full colour covers could have caused such controversy, but they did so Allen Lane pulled the plug. But not before Games had designed a new cover grid and rolled out thirty two editions; some designed by himself and others out-sourced to a select number of illustrators.

This whole episode in Penguin's rich history has now been captured by Games' own daughter Naomi; Abram Games and Penguin Books has been published by the Penguin Collectors Society and includes reproductions of the entire series of covers. It's available to non-members for a mere £9 from the Society's online shop – along side a whole load of other great publications from the PCS. 

Gentleman

We all love him don't we? David Gentleman is a national treasure, like Searle or Steadman or Blake. His work is woven into the fabric of the UK, it's part of the country's DNA. Hardly surprising that Penguin got him to illustrate Shakespeare's entire works back in the sixties/seventies.

I recently picked up a copy of the Gentleman covered edition of Macbeth and it struck me that I haven't been looking closely enough. You need to scrutinise these covers at super-close-quarters to really appreciate their beauty I think; to really appreciate his workmanship; the way the line work interacts with the colour work. It's masterful.

My Flickr set is in need of an update but this is most of my collection.

Hogarth. Son of Hogarth.

It's an interesting fact that artist/illustrator Paul Hogarth was an actual decendant (albeit a distant one) of more historically noteworthy artist William Hogarth. In a way, it's such an obvious idea that you might think in actual fact that it's unlikely. But there it is. It's true. I looked it up.

Until recently, that's about all I did know despite being an admirer of Hogarth The Younger's compelling artwork; largely because my admiration of his work has been such a slow burner. You see for once, the first Hogarth covered books I bought were actually purchased for their content; I've been a Graham Greene fan for many years and Hogey was Greene's illustrator of choice. It took me a while to work that out.

Once I got that and once I caught the Hogarth bug, I looked out for more. There's obviously just a few here, you'll find more on Flickr. Some are "conventional"; straightforward scenes inspired buy the text and some feel more "designed"; the construction of the work hinting at a draughtsman-like approach coupled with something not unlike collage – only using drawn fragments.

I've hardly scratched the surface of Paul Hogarth, I suspect someone better qualified and equipped will capture a more fitting record of the man's life and work at some point. His obituary from 2001 reveals much about his fascinating life.

 

Island

It's a striking and slightly strange cover from the little heard of Grant Grimbly for the 1968 edition of Huxley's last novel. A couple of years later, Grimbly re-visited the cover. I can't help suspect the Sales and Marketing boys applied a little pressure to snazz it up a bit…Grimbly also did this one.

1984

I think it's kind of interesting that this was published at around the same time as that new Bowie album cover design appeared. They're clearly not really connected but they do have obvious things in common.

I'll be totally up front: I think they're both fantastic. Great, brave, strong ideas. Both feel radical in a time when it seems everything has been done. Not that blacking out text or regurgitating old artwork haven't been done before, of course they have. But when considered in context (and context is so important isn't it?) I do think both are challenging ideas. They are, it's undeniable. If they weren't, they wouldn't have triggered such discourse. Love them or hate them, in their contexts they're challenging - and in their contexts, challenging is good.

David Pearson's book cover is the antithesis of conventional book cover design and, perhaps, could only have been achieved with a book like this. Unless the cover is laughably unsuitable 1984 will sell. As it is, I have a suspicion that this cover will create new, invigorated interest and ultimately greater sales than if a more conventional approach had been taken. Why? Partly because of what I just said: 1984 will sell anyway but mostly because of the times we live in. Dare I believe that "good design" is recognised and embraced more than ever? Pearson's design has certainly caused a stir.

I remember my gut response to seeing the cover for the first time on Dan's blog. I immediately thought, "That would never have happened if it wasn't for the Great Ideas covers". Those series', in my humble opinion, shifted the perception of not only what you could get away with but how intelligent, considered, restrained design could actually sell books. Particularly at Penguin, I imagine those series' proved something. Perhaps a "something" that could only apply to re-issued older volumes but a new something nevertheless.

I can easily believe that this new cover may be an outcome of what was learned: innovate and people will buy. And Penguin deserve to be aplauded accordingly.

But what about Barnbrook's Bowie cover? The album's not even out yet but the debate is ferocious. Again: loved and hated, the big and simple question is: Is the design any good?

I think there's plently being said about it so I'm not going to spark another fight here. I don't think whether you love or hate the aethetics is really the point. What's important about it is that an artist like Bowie, at his age and position, opts for a design that shakes things up; that pisses people off. In one discussion I've been involved in we speculated over whether the re-hashing of an old album cover had been done before; Massive Attack was mentioned. But it's not just any old cover being re-hashed is it? It's an iconic album cover, provocatively bastardised. Vialated. Imagine doing that to Sgt Pepper or Revolver or Pet Sounds (OK, perhaps Heroes isn't quite up there with those but you get the idea).

Again, I feel that wouldn't have happened a few years ago. For some reason, and I'm not totally sure why, it feels like both the Bowie cover and the Orwell cover are products of our time. Is it a post-post-post-modern thing? I don't really know what that means. Is it because we live in a mashed-up digital world where "design" is embracing so many new things (3D printing, digital/print colaborations, craft/digital assimilations, lots of other stuff)?

I know I haven't got any real answers and this post is little more than my ramblings but I felt moved to put thoughts down because I think both covers are, if nothing else, provocative and it seems that it's been a while since we enjoyed such goading.

Books for Every Interest

Beautiful work for Penguin from Young & Rubicam, Malaysia. I think this is the best but there's more on Ads of the World.

Exhibit "A"

We have a mystery on our hands. OK, a pretty small mystery but nevertheless, it's a mystery that begs answers. Path buddy Tim Fowler, from here, here and here, sent his copy of Forster's 1908 classic (well, actually, the 1955 Penguin edition).

But look at the title. Odd "A"s.

Now you can imagine how this might happen. Way back in 1955, Penguin's jobbing typesetter, momentarily distracted by thoughts of lunch and a rather tasty swan sandwich his wife had lovingly prepared for him the evening before, lifted a Gill Sans "A" out of the type tray and slipped it into position, not noticing that it didn't match the other he'd slotted into place just a few seconds earlier.

Hardly his fault. His job was to assemble the lead, he didn't put the wrong "A" into the tray. Perhaps a cleaner had found it kicking around the floor and thinking he was being very helpful and thinking that there's nothing to this type matching lark, dropped it into the little wooden compartment along with all the other "A"'s. They looked the same. An "A" is, after all, an "A".

Fast forward fifty seven years and there's a bunch of saddoes (myself and Tim inlcuded) scratching their typographically interested heads wondering about the anomaly. Of course, identifying the rogue "A", the second one, is one challenge.

Typography maestro Phil Baines wondered if it might be Curwen Sans then ace Toronto-based book designer Michel Vrana suggested Geometric 415/Metro. Our conclusions were inconclusive.

What I would really like to know is whether this error really went unnoticed. It must have been printed in its thousands. Curiously, the peculiarity has been reproduced on modern deck chairs and canvas prints - perhaps it was never corrected.

The investigation continues in ernest.

 

Mother

As unlikely as it might seem, I really wasn't expecting to appear here yesterday - I thought it was going somewhere else. Needless to say, totally thrilled about it anyway. 

Penguin English Library Launch Animation

From Penguin English Library on Vimeo.

Penguin/Pelican Credits (Overdue)

Much to the delight of the rest of my family, I got ALL of my Penguin and Pelican paperbacks out last week. Took a few photos but also updated my Flickr sets with design credits for Main Series, Crime, Education, Specials and Pelicans.

Take a look if you're curious.

David Pearson at Walker Art Center

Fletcher Spain Spain Robertson

A couple more for here and here. Two Penguin Crimes with covers by Alan Spain (two of many for Ed McBain's books) as well as a Fletcher and a Robertson for Pelican.

Hamlet, revenge!

Alan Aldridge 1961/4

Glorious

Coralie Bickford-Smith's spectacular covers for the Penguin Great Food series got an abundance of well deserved blog coverage. They were published around April last year and it would be worth a little dig around to find some of it; to get the inside track on the amazing care and detail Coralie applied to this beautiful collection. I can remember, on the run up to their release, Coralie's intriguing tweets that hinted at her research.

Karen, my wife, bought me the full set for Christmas. I'd seen a few in the flesh and more, of course, online but getting your hands on the lot is really the only way to appreciate just how fabulous and rich the designs are.

I've uploaded them all to Flickr.

Education for Democracy

I think I must have most of the good Penguin Education covers. You don't find many. Perhaps it's because the subject was "of its time" so the editions weren't seen to have much life beyond their era. I don't know. As I've said before, it was this series that got me into collecting Penguins - Ominific's covers are great examples of economically executed, intelligent graphic design.

The Taste of Too Much

Malcolm Carder, 1964. That's all. Nice.

Trial by Terror

Every now and then you stumble across a stand out Penguin (Penguine, if you're Morgan Freeman). This was in the Oxfam Bookshop last week. Published in 1965, that remarkable cover illustration is by Giannetto Coppola, who also did this cover for She Came to Stay.

Typohaircut Sir?

An Alan Aldridge. So it is.

The Gentleman Shakespeares

I'm a total sucker for one of these. Even if I've already got it, I'll snap it up thinking one day I'll have some use for a pile of duplicates. Henry IV, Part 1 isn't a repeat though, so it's a welcome addition to this lot by you know who.

Chi squared and its common misuse

If pressed, I would say Derek Birdsall is my favourite designer of all time. A couple of years ago Mike Dempsey opened a blog post on Birdsall with a sweeping statement, "If you don't know of [Birdsall] then you are not a graphic designer]". I think right now, in 2011, that might be a little harsh but then again, as a designer of a certain age myself, I also feel that it's not a totally unfair assertion.

At its best, Birdsall's work (and that of his studio Ominfic) is utterly meaningful and incredibly simple. Often so simple, you feel that each piece must have taken mere mintues to produce. And yet they're so powerful, it's impossible to imagine how you could better express the idea.

It was a Birdsall/Omnific cover design that got me into collecting Penguin books. When I stumbled across Juniors I was blown away; it was perfect and about as minimal as you can get. The studio produced many covers for the publishers Education imprint; the ones I have are on Flickr. I've just added this one.

(@H_FJ quite rightly pointed out on Twitter that that character is, of course, Psi, not as the title of this post might suggest Chi. I did know that. I DID. Really! The Chi reference comes from an overly obscure extract on the back cover that I haven't shown you. In other words: I have made no attempt to make this make sense.)

Flock Stock

Another handful added.

How to avoid a massive head

We had a Boy's Day Out today. To the Ulster Museum. On a Sunday, that should mean a nice, quiet time. A nice, quiet picnic in the park. A stroll through the Tropical Ravine. Perhaps a little diversion into The Palm House.

Not today. Oh no. Not when there's a flippin' carnival on. In the flippin' park. With a stage. Right next to the flippin' museum.

Now you might think: two young boys and a Dad, a sunny day, no need to hurry anywhere much and a carnival might be a recipe for a fun-packed Boys Day Out. That would be quite reasonable.

But you'd be overlooking one all-powerful, irrepressible component: Namely carnival people with big fucking heads. Massive heads. A monkey head the size on a washing machine. A huge rabbit head, the size of a fridge. A wrinkly old man's head, the size of a dishwasher, on the shoulders of…actually, a wrinkly old man.

You know, the kind of thing that is guaranteed to totally freak out your youngest massive head fearing son.

So, on leaving the museum for our picnic in the park, an emergency evasive manoeuvre was required: A sharp left, out onto the street and a swift dash passed the gates of the park (just in time to miss the giant rabbit-headed carni' tactically deployed there to entrap unsuspecting passers-by).

I had a plan. If we could just make it to Queen's, we could seek refuge in the University's Quadrangle. A plan that turned out to be even better than I thought. Not only was the Quad a perfect, peaceful place to eat our lunch with no fear of over-sized-headed performers, we realised, as we slipped through the entrance hall that upstairs in The Naughton Gallery, there was an exhibition of Neil Shawcross's Penguin paintings. Noah thought they were too blurry. I really like them. Well worth a short diversion if you're in the area, trying to avoid someone with a massive head.

Experimental Games

Somewhere around 1957 Hans Schmoller roped in ace wartime poster man Abram Games to oversee a new, experimental cover series for Penguin. Competition was hotting up in the paperback market and there was a suspicion that to keep up, Penguin needed colour. Stateside, they were already doing it; the New York office had commissioned artist Robert Jonas to illustrate a set of covers. His style was, at times, quite Games-like.

Back in Britain it was felt this was a style more fitting for Penguin than the sensationalistic style adopted by competitors. I guess Pan being one of them. Perhaps they were right although looking at them now those Pan covers were, often, pretty special. But not very British. Penguin was (is) Penguin; with standards to maintain. And it was thought Games might be the man to protect those standards.

As well as producing some superb covers himself, Games got a number of other artists to do more. But before even thirty covers were published, head honcho Allan Lane abandoned the experiment. Some may have felt he didn't really give it a good chance, the books in question were not marketed in any significant way. Perhaps his heart wasn't in it; perhaps he felt they just weren't very Penguin. Perhaps he was right. In any case, what followed, the Marber Grid covers, turned out to be a great success and there's every reason to believe Lane knew his stuff.

I think there's a pretty good chance that this cover, that I found last week in a charity bookshop, may have been the very first one of the experiment. It's date and artist suggest that. It's definitely a masterful piece of creative draughtsmanship; just what you'd expect from Games.

The Flockers

Do Penguins flock? Not sure. Probably. Although certainly not the paperback kind; they seem a little thin on the ground nowadays. It's taken me about 6 months to pull together this handful…Well, I say "handful", but I mean "handful" as in a slightly freaky, Anne Boleynesque six-fingered handful. (No offence, any sextedigiters out there!).

The book are now on Flickr.

Great Journeys

Saturday, up the road and round the corner to the charity bookshop: Noah got a couple of Doctor Who novels (50p). Seth got a Thunderbirds annual and Fat Cat (50p). I got the entire Penguin Great Journeys series (£5). Beautiful David Pearson designed covers (on the Penguins that is). See them all on Flickr (the Penguins I mean).

 

Sea King

I know this doesn't help anyone but this is one of those books that you really have to see in the flesh to get why it's so irresistible. It's the qualities of ink on printed page; how the vivid colours sit on the actual off-white paper. But what's also interesting is how the book is an artist's view of sealife rather than, say, a botanists. To me, the patterns feel like they've been dramatised to emphasise their dynamism with an artist's or even a graphic designer's sensibility. It's all symmetry and repetition and a bit of chiaroscuro thrown in for good measure.

 

 

 

Stone Penguins

Nearly missed these on the CR Blog: John Squire designs for the Penguin Decade Series.

The Company She Keeps

An exceptionally groovy cover from Mr Aldridge.

Penmanship

 

 

Here's another of those King Penguins. The obviously appealing Book of Scripts. Although, at times, you have to forgive some less than great reproductions.

King of Kings

Probably should have kept this one until last, because it's the best really, but here's the first of those King Penguins I found at Castle Ward. An amazing piece of work on the cover; the richness of the colour plates inside is a bonus.

Bookchase

 

For the Penguin lover in your life, it's The Great Penguin Bookchase.
Available through Art Meets Matter.

A quartet of watery foul

The CR Blog posted their second extract from the brilliant Penguin by Illustrators yesterday. This time it's the bit about the amazing David Gentleman. My offering is much more humble with Pelicans designed by the prolific Romek Marber and Bruce Robertson. Marber's is quite subtle but makes great use of not white but blue space. Some might say Robertson's shows flagrant disregard for Marber's grid but I suspect he knew exactly what he was doing.

The first Penguin is uncredited even though it's clearly well considered. The other has been here before but I couldn't resist another copy of a Milton Glaser cover.

 

 

Simone deux Pingouin

I found a couple of curious Penguins at the weekend. In a box with other less interestingly covered de Beauvoirs, I thought they're both top-notch but, from a brand point of view, beg questions. First off, they were both published in 1967 and yet they're so different (a time of uncertainty at the publishers?). 

Although both have Marber-grid factors, both are departures: "Memoirs..." has lost horizontal lines, the "long" title alternative positioning and, obviously, uses caps. "She Came..." on the other hand is a much more dramatic shift in direction: a brand new position for the enlarged and newly coloured type, and a bird that's grown considerably. Interesting pricing too. 

I guess "Memoirs..." could be a straight or near-straight re-print of the first-time-for-Penguin 1963 edition, while "She Came..." (de Beauvoir's first novel) was published by Penguin for the first time just a year earlier in '66. I suppose that all kind of makes sense. But still, an opportunity to release both with similar covers must have been considered.

Differences apart, they're still both excellent covers but "She Came..." is, to my eyes, a stonker! That beautiful cover illustration is by the enigmatic Giannetto Coppola. Can't find anything about the man and from what other covers I can find, this is, by his own standards, an exceptional piece of work. Very stylish, very "sixty's".

Incidentally, the other cover is by Penguin stalwart Alan Spain.

Futures Past

 

 

James Pardey has expanded his Penguin Sci-Fi website with material that's now bang up-to-date. Including the latest Penguin Modern Classics just or soon to be released. James has also been writing a series of superb articles for the Penguin Collectors' Society, chronicling Penguin's relationship with SF. Two have already been published in the last two editions of The Penguin Collector. The final part will be out in December.

Cover Versions

 

Erik has turned two of his favourite songs by OJ and the 80s most influential unknown band Felt into 2' x 3' Penguin/Pelican covers. 

Penguin by Illustrators

 

Here we go again: me, spouting on about why you should join the Penguin Collectors Society. It goes like this: it doesn't cost much and it's great, really great. I mean, it's Penguin, so Phil Baines' is in it, Len Deighton's kicking around, Romek Marber's grid is all over the place, Milton Glaser chips in, the list goes on. Pick up a vintage Penguin and look for the design credit...chances are, if you're a designer, it'll be by someone you've heard of. Or if not, and you dig around, you'll probably discover it's someone you should have heard of.

Even if you're not a designer, if you're reading this you're interested in books or collecting or something and that's what the PCS is all about so if you sign up and pay a very few quid you'll get stuff through your door every now and then that'll be really interesting. And perhaps once a year (or is it once every two years?) a book'll turn up and it'll be worth two, three or even four year's of membership fees.

Penguin by Illustrators, which has just been sent out to members, is the culmination of two years of work which started with the second PCS Study Day at the V&A on March 24 2007. The first took place in 2005 and was organised to coincide with Penguin's 70th Anniversary. That one was Penguin by Designers and brought together many contributors from years gone by. The book that followed was superb. This time Penguin by Illustrators and is a more lavish publication. I only got it on Saturday so haven't read much, but flicking through there's plenty to get excited about, including details on key contributors, along with some of their non-Penguin work. What's most pleasing to see is work that's bang up to date, like Victoria Sawdon's work for the Great Journeys series and the stunning work of Coralie Bickford-Smith that I'd mentioned at the end of last year.

      

Penguin Sci-Fi

James Pardey is building a superb archive of Penguin Science Fiction cover designs. PCS members: watch out for James' articles in The Collector.

Odder

After Vicki's comment on the last post I double checked today to see if that book was, as I'd first assumed, a book of short stories and not just a title coincidentally worded, which I admit would have been odd. Of course, it is a collection of short stories so no odd coincidence there. Except that, unknown to me until today, the second story is called, "Odd".

Odd.

Odd

 

I've been quietly adding to my Penguin/Pelican collection over the last year and found this one the other day. Greg commented on it's Flickr entry that he hadn't seen a Marber-Grid Penguin with a colour photo on before. I can't think of another either, although there may well be some. It is an oddity isn't it? Intriguingly, odd image. Brilliant and odd. And, credited to Herbert Spencer.

Incidentally, if you've got $4,000 going spare, you can buy a complete set of Spencer's Typographicas here.

/'pengwin/ n. flightless black and white sea bird of the southern hemisphere, with wings developed into flippers for swimming underwater

Designer and writer Charles Foster has very generously sent me a big box of Penguins and Pelicans which included this superb cover by Keith Whitehead (published in 1965).

A Flock of Penguins

And talking of our aquatic, flightless friends, it's been a while since I've found any interesting specimens. Then my wife took pity on me and gave me a day off! So I checked out a few secondhand bookshops and found assorted goodness, including these...

   

   

Two Gentleman'ed Shakespeare's, King's ransom designed by Alan Spain, The flaw... and The Mackeral... are by Birdsall, An American Romance is by...wait for it...Milton-bloody-Glaser, A Ghost..., is by Giovanni Thermes and Sunday is by the very great Romek Marber.

Join

Plugging the Penguin Collectors' Society is becoming a bi-annual event but Ben joined recently so I thought it worthwhile adding weight to his suggestion to join.

Along with The Penguin Collector, which features an article by Colin Forbes, Penguin and Young Graphic Designers, this time I got a book dedicated to Penguin Classics with articles on cover designs over the years, including Pentagrams rejected (but lovely) covers from 2001; and another book Penguin Days, Tanya Schmoller's memoir of her life at Penguin Books" - which commemorates her 90th birthday.

It's superb value for money and they have a load of great people working very hard to keep the quality of content top notch.

  

  

More Penguins than you can Shakespeare a stick at

  

I have the very kind David Atkinson to thank for bolstering my New Penguin Shakespeare collection significantly with this, not so little, lot. Now on Flickr.

Hope the goat arrived intact David (wink).

David Gentleman/New Penguin Shakespeare

 

James has kindly sent me reference to the New Penguin Shakespeare's, with the David Gentleman covers, taken from the book Artwork on the great man. Er...Gentleman that is, not Shakey. It highlights what a great task it must have been to illustrate all these covers and do it so well, although it took him around ten years to get through them all. It also highlights the task I have ahead of me in trying to collect the lot.