For the
newcomers to this blog, here’s a brief statement of what the “Binding of the
Month Club” is all about, from our October 2015 post:
“… some covers just do that to you—make a strong initial
impression and then stay with you. Perhaps it’s an unusual cloth color,
or an image that's hard to forget, or both … It might be a great example of a
design style or what seems to be the representative cover by a certain
designer. It could be a train wreck that you can’t look away from, or
something that makes you smile.
To celebrate those covers that either of
us just like, our Binding
of the Month Club begins this month”
The
intent, reasonably enough, was to feature a binding design every month. So, my apologies for not posting a binding of
the month for April—it was not a particularly cruel month, but it was busy. To partly make up for this April foolish behavior
here’s a binding design by the renowned Margaret Armstrong featuring TWO fools!
Wells, Carolyn. Folly for the Wise. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1904.
In
addition to easing my conscience, this design holds a distinctive place in the
work of Armstrong. Although her covers
could be representative of many genres—ornamental, art nouveau, decorative,
floral, emblematic—they very rarely were pictorial. Even scarcer are figurative designs. Gullans and Espey note that other than on
designs featuring medallions or busts (3 in total), the human face doesn’t
appear in her cover designs, and the human figure never. (1) The last is not strictly true, as Folly for
the Wise demonstrates. The two fools are
highly stylized, but they do represent Armstrong’s only human figures. Not that she could not draw figures and draw them well; illustrations and page decorations she created clearly show this. But for binding designs she chose not to.
The three faces
Gullans and Espey mention, appear on 1) some copies of Prince Tip-Top by
Marguerite Bouvet, with a medallion of Cerulea that Gullans and Espey ascribe
to Helen Armstrong, Margaret’s sister (Chicago: McClurg, 1892, which we do not
have in our collection); 2) a medallion on The New Pacific (pictured below); 3) and a bust of St. Cecilia on Love Letters of a Musician. The last of these designs
re-appears on Later Love Letters of a Musician.
Hubert Howe Bancroft. The New Pacific. New York: Bancroft Co., 1900
Myrtle Reed. Love Letters of a Musician. Myrtle Reed. Later Love Letters of a Musician.
New York: Putnam, 1899 New York: Putnam, 1900
For this two month post, I decided to take my inspiration from the rhyme “April showers bring May flowers” (and, just for laughs, here’s how Wiktionary explains the “proverb”: “April, traditionally a rainy period, gives way to May, when flowers will bloom because of the water provided to them by the April rains.”) With that astonishing explanation, I’ll introduce our April Binding of the Month.
Echoes
of Life, by Old Don Henri. Chicago,
Ill.: Western Publishing Company, 1888.
This is a title that I had forgotten we had
until I started searching for some visualization of rain in a binding
design. When I look at a cover I’m
usually first concerned with the front cover—how it looks when you’re about to
open the book; then I look at the spine only—how it will look on the shelf. This book requires a third viewpoint—how it
looks when fully open. Most books keep
the main interest on the front cover, often only stamping the author, title,
publisher, or some combination on the spine in gilt or white. Less often the spine features some pictorial
feature or other ornamentation.
Infrequently the design is continued from the front cover across the
spine, and very infrequently the design stretches across the front cover,
spine, and back cover. For the
collector/browser in a bookstore (either when the book was first published or
in a modern used book store) the spine is the view one gets. As a collector, one becomes fairly adept at
recognizing in which decade a book was published by the look of the spine,
which often indicates whether the covers might be decorated and thus saving
valuable browsing time. This book’s
spine is very intriguing with its string of silver and black clouds at the top
and a mysterious “Old Don Henri” in silver where the publisher is usually
found.
When
fully opened the design seems to me to progress from the back cover to the
front cover, with the spine providing both a connection and break between the
main features of the covers. The back
cover shows a very somber image of clouds and rain with a great deal of brown
and black in the silver clouds and only a few streaks of silver in the rain
which is mostly rendered in black. There
is no brown in the clouds on the spine where the design is reduced to only 2 ¼
inches. The front cover explodes with “light”,
seemingly from between the silver wings—and I should note here that although
the light color appears to be white, on the cover it is clearly silver, a
hazard of scanning. An interesting
effect is gained by using the grain of the cloth to enhance the beams of
light. When magnified (see below) the machine
created “grain” of the cloth is clearly visible. On this book, the cloth has a very fine
diagonal rib grain, running from the upper left to the lower right. The silver beams follow the grain exactly with
the ribs and spaces between them filled with silver thus brightening the
effect. Of course, the rain on the back
cover run counter to the grain, making the back cover design even more somber.
Detail of clouds (from spine).
The last
feature I’d like to highlight is the binding’s beveled edges. This is the first instance of beveled boards seen on this blog, and is a feature most often used on gift books, special editions,
or on what we might call coffee table books.
Here's a close up of the bevels on the rear board.
“Old
Don Henri” was, not surprisingly, a pseudonym.
The actual author was Henry Lathrop Turner, a military man, who later
turned to banking and real estate. He
was born in Oberlin, Ohio on August 26, 1844 and died in Chicago on July 12,
1915. He was married twice and served in
both the Civil War and the Spanish-American War, rising to the rank of Colonel.
As the obituary in his alma mater’s
(Oberlin College) alumni magazine noted “He was a man of fine literary tastes
and was the author of books and poems” (2).
His books included The Amateur Speaker's
Hand Book (1906), several books on military topics, and books of poems
including The Lovely Land of Sunset: a Souvenir of Santa Barbara (1886), Into Death's
Country (1887), Sabre, Saddle and Sentiment for the Full Grown: Story and Song
for the Little Ones (1893), and, of course, Echoes of Life (1888). The poems in “Echoes” don't seem
particularly inspired and are presented in a variety of typefaces. One typeface in particular is so eccentric that it’s almost unreadable. Here’s a
few lines from “The Shadow Prince” to give you an idea of the face:
Though Turner uses a variety of metric forms and rhyme schemes, I was interested to see that this one, as well as the other longer poems, are in trochaic tetrameter (the same meter used in Longfellow's Hiawatha!) Of more interest is the information given on the verso of the title page
that lists the illustrators (Myra
Manley, W. De Meza, J.L. Denslow and C.E. Sickles, all under the supervision of
Mr. Sickles), the printer (Knight & Leonard Co., printers, Chicago), and the
binder (W.B. Conkey, binder, Chicago). An illustration by W. De Meza, also from “The
Shadow Prince”, might even be the inspiration for part of the cover design:
We
use all of this information when describing a book, and particularly welcome publisher supplied information on the binder or, very rarely, the binding
designer. W.B. Conkey Company was
founded by Walter B. Conkey in 1877. At
the age of nineteen, Walter first set up a small bindery in a Chicago basement. He later added printing work, and by the late
1890s was a large and successful publisher and manufacturer. In 1897, Conkey built an enormous plant in
Hammond, Indiana, a town close to the southern edge of Chicago on the
Indiana/Illinois border. Conkey was
widely known for high quality and craftsmanship in all aspects of his company’s
work, while maintaining affordable prices.
Among his competitors’ products, his were known for “their durability
and their attractive bindings and design.” (3)
His son, Henry, took over the business after Walter’s death in 1923, and
the firm was sold in 1949 to Rand McNally.
Engraving of the Hammond plant, from the Lucille Project website (4)
Postcard with another view of the plant from the early 1900s (5)
General
location of the W.B. Conkey Hammond, Indiana plant at 617 Conkey Street today
(Google Earth view).
Finally, a note on the publisher. The Western Publishing House of Chicago,
Illinois, was one of a great many “subscription” publishers in the later years
of the 19th century. Briefly,
this type of publisher eschewed the static bookseller model where customers
came to view and buy products, and instead viewed books as merchandise to be advertised
and sold like other products. A key
feature of this method of publishing was the book agent, whose job was to sell
the publishers’ products directly to readers by presenting them with what is
variously known as “sample books,” “canvassing books,” or “salesmen’s dummies.” Generally the books were on popular topics
and produced cheaply. They were often
illustrated and were made available in a variety of bindings which the customer
could choose from when ordering. Although
many firms specialized in this type of publishing, eventually mainstream book
publishers and some department stores began their own subscription publishing
departments (think Macy’s, for example).
For an in-depth look at the history of
American subscription publishing I highly recommend the University of
Pennsylvania's online exhibit: "Agents Wanted:" Subscription
Publishing in America. (6) One of the canvassing books in our collection is shown below, with our description of the binding. Note that the front cover and spine uses a calf binding with panels stamped in gilt, while the back cover partly replicates the front cover, but is bound in a blue textured cloth with no illustrations except for the central cartouche. The potential customer could select either binding style, although the full calf version would be more expensive. The online exhibit mentioned above gives many more details about these canvassing books.
The Illustrated New Testament. New York and Chicago: Goodspeed, 1871.
Salesman's sample. Front cover in panelled calf over bevelled boards with gilt stamped vignettes and ornaments, spine in gilt calf; back cover in dark blue (C183) pebble grain cloth over panelled and bevelled boards, gilt stamped central panel; plain calf cover mounted on front pastedown; gilt blue cloth spine stamped in gilt and calf spine sample mounted on rear pastedown.
And now, as promised, on to our "May flower!"
Elwyn Barron. Manders. Boston: L.C. Page and Company, 1899. With cover design by Amy M. Sacker.
This is the first
time we’ve featured a binding design by Amy Maria Sacker (1872-1965), although
one of her designs appeared in Callie’s post from last July (“Going out”). Sacker was one of the major artists in the second
generation of cover designers (along with other luminaries such as Margaret
Armstrong, Alice Morse, Frank Hazenplug, etc.)
A lifelong Bostonian, she produced designs chiefly for a number of major
Boston publishers, but also did some work for other publishers outside of
Boston including the New York firms of A. Wessels, Thomas Y. Crowell, Cupples
& Leon, and Silver, Burdett & Company.
She was also a teacher and worked in a variety of art media. For much more information and an illustrated
catalog of her bookwork (including not only cover designs, but illustrations
and bookplates) you should head to our colleague’s, Mark Schumacher’s, Amy Sacker website ( http://www.amysacker.net/ ) where you can see well over 300 of Sacker’s
covers. Our American Trade Bindings site contains 224 cover images.
The outstanding
design for Manders is striking in its simplicity, featuring a wonderful art
nouveau iris in pale green and pink on a dark blue background. The heavy gilt capital letters emphasize the
rectangular shape of the cover space while providing contrast with the soft and
ethereal curves of the flower which grows through the space between the
author’s first and last names. A
wonderful detail which also ties together the straight and curved aspects of
the design is the adaptation of the double rule border. Single or multiple rules were a standard part
of many cover designs, defining the image space within the confines of the
cover. In earlier posts we saw how these
spaces could be broken by having the center image extend beyond or behind the
borders. This design, however, rather
than breaking the rule barrier, maintains its normal function of defining space
while also incorporating it into the image by using the inner rule to meld into
the iris by forming the base of two of the three leaves. To me this detail of blending the soft with
the hard and the living flower with the architectural border is a masterful
touch. The design is modestly signed
with Sacker’s A S monogram. Fortunately for those seeking her designs,
Sacker often signed her covers with either the letters A S, or with monograms
of “A S” or “A M S” variously arranged.
These and other signatures are also documented at
http://www.amysacker.net/
As opposed to
Echoes of Life, the plain spine provides no clue to the glory of the front
cover. It is unadorned save for gilt block capitals and horizontal rules. It
would be easy to overlook this book if it was shelved in the traditional way,
although to a collector, this spine looks very characteristic of books
published somewhere in the later 1890s or early 1900s. To a book buyer of 1899, of course, one never
knew what could appear on the cover of a book with such a modest spine. I would hope that I would have taken the
chance, been bowled over, and put down my $1.50 with no hesitation.
And
what would I receive for my money? According
to an advertisement in a catalog bound in at the end of Maurus Jokai’s The
Baron’s Sons, I was in for “Bright descriptions of student life in Paris, views
of human frailty, and a dash of dramatic force” not to mention “A romance sweet as violets.”
(7)
A contemporary
review described the book as “a bright and wholesome story, introducing a
child-hero whom every one will love.” The titular Edouard Manders is the son of a
British cad and Marie, a “Quartier Latin grisette, suspected of posing for
artists who were unable to paint draperies and despised landscapes.” The cad dies, the widowed Marie goes back to modeling, and meets and falls in love with a rich American student, Walter Blakemore. “What might have been the outcome, had not
little Manders interfered, we can only conjecture…” intones the review. Afterwards Manders sings to raise money, the American leaves,
complications ensue, Marie pines away and dies for the love of Walter just
after he returns to her in Paris, and Manders grows up to become a famous opera
singer. The favorable review is chiefly
because of Manders, “one of the most winsome child characters whom we have met
in fiction for many a day.”
(8) The brief notice in The Saturday Review (London) was decidedly more mixed, beginning with “’Manders’ is the
piteous story of an unchildlike little child who pondered many things. The passages relative to America … we dismiss
at once, not because they are badly done, but because they have been better
done often enough before.” Ouch.
Finally, a note on the author. Elwyn Alfred Barron (1855-1929) was born in Lima, New York. He attended Robert College in Tennessee, and
worked at the Chicago Inter-Ocean as a drama critic and editorialist from 1877
to 1895. During this time he also wrote
plays, novels and poetry. He left
Chicago to live in Paris and London where he continued to write novels and plays,
sometimes in collaboration with Wilson Barrett.
Between 1900 and 1916 he copyrighted 11 plays. From 1907 until his death he lived and wrote
in New York City. Both in his plays and
novels, Barron often used historical settings. (10) His works include the plays A mountain pink: realistic description of
life among the moonshiners of North Carolina (1885), and an adaptation of
George Eliot’s Romola (1897); the novels In Old New York (1900), Marcel
Levignet (1906), and The Triple Scar (1907), in addition to Manders which was
first published by J. Macqueen, London, in 1898; and the dramatic poem The
Viking (1888).
So there you have our bindings for April and May. Please remember that we welcome comments and would be delighted if you proposed your own binding of the month. As long as it's in our collection, American Publishers' Trade Bindings, we will feature it on the blog. If you'd like to provide your own reasons for liking the binding and any other comments, we'll be sure to include them too. Until next month.
But wait! I almost didn't remember the question posed in the title of the post. I know this creaks with age and I shouldn't go there, but I must...
What do May flowers bring?
(1) Gullans, Charles, and John Espey. Margaret Armstrong and
American Trade Bindings. Los Angeles:
Department of Special Collections, UCLA, 1991, p. 22-23.
(2) Obituary from Oberlin Alumni Magazine, v. 12, no. 1, Oct. 1915, p. 29, viewed online May 26, 2016.
(3) Murray,
Timothy D. “W.B. Conkey Company.” In Dzwonkoski, Peter, ed. American Literary Publishing Houses,
1638-1899, pt. 1. Detroit, Mich.: Gale Research, 1986. Dictionary of Literary Biography, v. 49, p.
100-101.
(4) http://sdrc.lib.uiowa.edu/lucile/publishers/conkey/CONKEY.HTM
(5) image from FamilyOldPhotos.com
(6) "Agents Wanted:" Subscription Publishing in America, can be seen at: https://www.library.upenn.edu/exhibits/rbm/agents/
(7) "Selections from L.C. Page and Company’s list of
fiction." Catalog (15 p.) in back of Maurus
Jokai, The Baron’s Sons. Boston: L.C.
Page and Company, 1900.
(8) Review from The Literary World, v. xxx, no. 23, 11 Nov.
1899, p. 375. Boston: E.H. Hames Company, 1899.
(9) The Saturday review of politics, literature, science, and
art, 28 Jan. 1899, p. 121, v. 87, no. 2,257. London: Saturday Review Office,
1899.
(10) Barron, Elwyn A. Papers, finding aid, Special Collections Research
Center, University of Chicago Library.
