Look what I found...

     As some of you might have noticed...might, I was not in class today as I am on my way to visit family for the weekend. Im in the airport now and I was buying a hearty snack, as one does, and I thought to myself... would it be here? A quick glance to my left and the familiar cover of American Dirt brought me a little laugh. It made me think though... when I think of publishing and book distribution, I think of libraries and big name book stores and cozy book shop or two. Who does the book selection and marketing for places like an airport bodega, and is the criteria different when your customers are solely travelers? 
     Since we were talking about covers and jackets last class, I wanted to look at the picture I took a little more and think about which books I might have picked up (had I had the time) and why. I know I am usually drawn to largely typographic covers in softer colors. Maybe it matches my personality and maybe such a cover leads me to believe the content might be some reflection of the feeling I get when I view such images (which I have found to be untrue, but I still trick myself every time). No matter how hard I try, I judge a book greatly by its cover. I have gone out of my way to buy a specific book with a different or special edition cover because, to me, holding the artifact and seeing the cover before and after each reading makes the content on the inside that much better if its an image I am drawn to. In terms of the picture I've placed below, I gravitated toward the memoir Acid for the Children as well as A Long Petal of the Sea. Both covers follow that same formula I can't seem to escape: a nice sans serif typeface on a clean and somewhat muted background. I don't like books that yell at me (covers I should say); The cover for Chocolate Cream Pie Murder looks pretty abrasive and from that I dub that the content may be as well, even if it isn't. You can't make a cover appeal to everyone I suppose, but some just look like not too much thought was put into it or perhaps I'm not the intended audience. Either way, I'm hoping to work on my selection criteria and maybe bring myself to open my eyes to more things that before, I would have turned from. 

Cover Thoughts and New Book

This week the only reading I did was for my other English class. We read the book Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha by Roddy Doyle (be ready for a lot of Irish lit this semester), and I can't say that I was a particularly big fan of the book. For some brief context, the book follows the story of a ten-year-old boy—Paddy Clarke—growing up in Ireland in the late 1960s. It is told from Paddy's point of view as he tries to navigate and make sense of his everyday life, social norms with the boys at school, and his parents' increasingly tumultuous (and eventually violent) relationship.

I have to say that I had a hard time connecting with this story and its characters at first. Paddy and the other boys had a penchant for violence and overall were not particularly likeable, and I was left feeling a little cold just because of the seeming randomness and pointlessness of Paddy's rambly mundane stories about fights at school and picking on his little brother. It wasn't until the last third or so of the book that I began to appreciate what was happening narratively. The instances of violence served a function within the story, providing context for a key trend: as the tension and violence became more pronounced in Paddy’s home, there was a noticeable shift in Paddy’s behavior toward others. The inverse relationship between the increasing violence between Paddy’s parents and Paddy’s decreasing violence toward his peers called attention to the book’s themes of childhood trauma and domestic violence in a way that helped the reader parse out the true depth of the effects of these forces. Perhaps what is most poignant about the book is that, since everything is told from Paddy’s point of view, we are grappling with these difficult ideas and situations via a ten-year-old’s understanding of them: his thoughts and feelings as he tries to make sense of why and how these things are happening between people he loves, between people who are supposed to love each other, and how he fits into that picture. While it’s still not one of my favorite books I’ve ever read, it’s certainly a powerful one.

On another topic, after our discussion in class last week about book covers, I’ve been thinking about book presentation specifically as it relates to the last book I read, Educated by Tara Westover (which I wrote about in my blog last week). This book cover interests me in particular simply because of the sheer number of awards and accolades that are lauded on the cover of the book:

Both the front and back covers list the book’s various achievements—the back cover even lists an entire paragraph of sources that named the book one of the best books of the year. While it’s certainly not uncommon for book covers to display promotional blurbs and relevant awards, this is one of the more prevalent examples of this that I’ve seen. Personally, I know that I don’t pay a lot of attention to blurbs and awards, especially considering how many books feature these types of displays on their covers. But that made me curious about whether others will become pick a book off the shelf or buy a book simply based on (or at least partially based on) the person who has praised the book or the types of awards it has won. Does anyone notice or put stock in these things, or do people tend to overlook them as much as I do?

Book Covers

In thinking about what attracts me to books I know nothing about, covers make a huge difference in books I pick up in a store or online. However, they are not the end all be all. As we briefly discussed in class, I look for recommendations from Booktubers. If a book is highly endorsed there and has a crappy cover, I will at least read the synopsis to see if it is something I would be interested in. Plus, not all authors like their covers. A book trilogy I read a while ago has a terrible first book cover. It features a girl looking into the camera posing in an awkward manner. The book is called Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi. The novel, and its sequels, had a major cover change. Thank God. 

Whilst I feel YA books tend to have a brighter, youthful essence to them–not that that’s wrong–I kind of enjoy the classic covers, leaning into the Penguin Modern Classics style. There is something satisfying to me about a simple or clean-looking cover. With that, YA books need to convince me more with their covers. 

An Observation on Chinese Book Covers

Being a bibliomaniac with a major in graphic design, it is impossible for me not to judge a book by its cover. I love to collect books with beautiful cover designs or with typesets I personally admire (btw, I'm in love with serif typefaces in small font sizes, and nothing can serve me better than a thousand-page book in a single volume because it holds like a big loaf of bread in my hand, although it is for sure I am never going to finish such a giant book.) I also collect craft papers and postcards with book cover designs, and pic 1 is one such example from my collection on campus. 

I would love to write a post on the cover designs from my collection of books at school, but since I have a giant collection (I haven't been able to figure out the exact number of the books I store in my dorm room, but my best estimation would be between 200 to 300, call me insane), that would be an impossible task to do. Therefore, I decided to introduce you to only a few of them, and shift my focus to comparing cover designs from English speaking countries (since a large portion of my collection were purchased in Dublin) and from my own country, China. 

An interesting (yet embarrassing) phenomenon I have noticed as I was picking out cover designs to include in this post is that while publishers from the West publish mostly authors from their own countries, a large portion of the books produced in China are translated works. I was struggling to find Chinese cover designs of books written by our own authors. It is depressing to me as someone who wishes to work in the book industry. But I don't want to get too deep into the reason behind this. The fact that translated works take up a giant proportion of the Chinese book market has a direct effect on cover designs in China—they have more elements to include in a limited space, with basic elements being the original title, the name of the author in his/her original language, a Chinese translation of the title, a Chinese translation of the author's name, and the name of the translator. Hence, Chinese cover designs are usually crowded. Pictures 2-4 are examples of the typical Chinese cover designs (in my mind)of translated works. One thing I notice in pic 2 is that while the original title is Everybody Behaves Badly, the Chinese translation literally means "the whole Paris belongs to me", which exposes more information in regard to the book's content. (Btw the book is written by Hemingway.) It is not a rare occurrence for Chinese translations of book titles to have drastically different meanings from the original titles. I personally think of it as that the translators come up with an entirely new title in Chinese based on their own interpretations of the books they translate. 

The cover designs in pictures 5 and 6 are less congested with words and have quieter and more succinct layouts (for your interest, we call this a "sexually apathetic" style in China). This is only possible because the font sizes are reduced to the smallest possible. On the other hand, book covers in the Western world can have a clear and concise look even if they incorporate giant letters not only because they have less basic elements to work with than translated works, but also that the Roman alphabet possesses an inherent advantage of a less condensed look in comparison to Chinese characters, as evident in pic 7.

Among the books I have included in this post, only the one in pic 6 is written by a Chinese author, yet it is a book about American writers and their works. :(











A few other things... 

 Classic Penguin: Cover to Cover (pic 8) is a book I recently purchased on Amazon. It had been on my wish list for a whole semester, with the recommendation from a Chinese social media account that focuses on the publishing industry. As suggested by its title, the book is a giant exhibition of book covers that have been used by Penguin. I haven't had a chance to read it, but it's guaranteed to treat my passion for book design well. 

Pic 9 is a new Chinese edition of The Stranger by Camus I happened to find today. It is definitely different from my copy of the Chinese edition of The Stranger. It has me stuck in awe that classical literature can have dozens of cover designs out in the world and readers can still get hyped every time a new edition releases. 

I Heart Penguin Classics

As an English major slowly dipping her toes into graphic design, I’m fascinated and enamored with book covers. A few years back, I attended a talk/exhibit of book jacket art by some designers at Penguin Random House. They showed off the best-of-the-best of their work, from famous covers like the pasta/prayer beads/flowers from Eat, Pray, Love to amazing innovations like the first 3D printed book jacket. The sheer variety between all these greatest hits and the possibilities for the future of book art blew me away.

That being said, it’s hard to beat a classic. A Penguin Classic, in particular. Much of my bookshelf is populated with those recognizable, black and orange-clad volumes that have become so cherished and ubiquitous. With all the variety that’s possible with book covers, it’s kind of incredible to see such a perfect design system, a simple repeated template, that seems to never get old.

The original Penguin Classics were as minimalist as a book can be, and essentially were basically all identical save for the title, author, and writing inside. Today, Penguin Classics are all united by design elements like the black spine, typeface, and orange penguin motifs. What I like about the newer Penguin Classics is the beautiful way they introduced variety by including artwork or photography on the front that reflects the identity of the book as a singular unit, while still keeping the design elements that identify it as part of the Penguin Classic family.

The effect is kind of amazing. Whenever I go to a bookstore looking to buy a classic (lowercase c), I always gravitate towards the Penguin Classics. The visual unity among all the books give each of them a powerful authority, especially if you know the history of the imprint.

Their success is especially impressive considering that having a rigid design system for a series of books can go sour pretty quickly. Take the Barnes & Noble Collectible editions of classics. I don’t love these, but that’s just me. The defining design element of this series is a kind of kitschy, retro-feel. There’s almost too much variety between all the books, the only tie between them all being a kind of faux-vintage finish that, in my opinion, makes them look almost like theatre props.

Admittedly, I do own a few of these collectible editions. I think the design works for some books–—I have a little “Pocket Book of Poetry” that looks good because it’s more subtle in its fake vintageness, with fewer Grandma-y flourishes. Also, it’s really small and cute. The end.

Judging Covers (and Other Illustrations)

I briefly mentioned this book in class, but I feel like my telling of it doesn't do it justice. The cover of "Spineless: The Science of Jellyfish and the Art of Growing a Backbone" by Juli Berwald is one of the prettiest things I've ever seen. I remember first seeing the book on a Snapchat story highlighting some of the best reads for the year and screen shotting the cover to find it later. Months passed into years, and I would see "Spineless" at every Barnes & Noble, but wouldn't have the funds, motivation, or time to buy it and read it. Still, I was drawn in by the vibrant pink and blue contrast and one February I decided to pull the trigger and pick up the damn book. The cover is inspired Ernst Haeckel's jellyfish painting (which I will display both his art and the cover side by side for comparison.)

 Another book that I've mentioned in class is my favorite book, Daniel Handler's "Why We Broke Up." Though the story is undoubtedly what hooked me, the simple art done by Maira Kalman was the cherry on top which brought this book to the top of my list. I guess I didn't explain enough of the plot in class either, so here's a brief summary: Min and Ed are both in high school in completely opposite social circles. It's a typical story of boy meets girl – the pair meets after one of Ed's lost basketball games in the backyard of Min's best friend's bittersweet 16th birthday party. However, after the pair split, Min writes Ed a letter and slips it into a box along with relationship memorabilia that she will then drop onto his doorstep. Among some of these things are two bottle caps, a box of matches, and a protractor. The cover in itself is pretty basic, but admirable all the same. I own the left copy, but I would argue the right copy's cover is more appropriate for the novel as a whole. The rose petals are those littered at the bottom of the box that Min leaves for Ed (and also hint at the location of their relationship's demise). (Spoiler: It's at a floral shop.)

As Min describes each item and the memory linked to it, Maira Kalman provides the images. Below are a couple of my favorites. The Scarpia's Bitter Ale bottle caps are the starting point for Min and Ed though Min doesn't drink beer and just pours it out behind her back. The second image is a crumpled up note, which upon first reading it, I'm not going to lie, made my heart melt. Right before the reader sees this image, Min describes finding an origami-type thing in her locker then the reader continues on to find this painting sprawled across two pages. If you're looking a good cover with even better illustrations inside, again I would recommend "Why We Broke Up." (And I would look up Maira Kalman's other work, too!)

A Strange Cover

I can admit, whole-heartedly, that I will always judge a book’s cover art. This does not always deter me from reading a book I find interesting, either because I am familiar with the title, author or story, but it is definitely the thing that can drive me to purchasing a book without knowing much about it. There is one book in particular that has my most favorite cover. I was given this book to read for a book club during sophomore year of high school. It is a fantastic story and still one of my favorite books. This book is I’ll Give you the Sun by Jandy Nelson. Something different about this book though is that the copy I was given from my local library did not have the title on the front of the book. As a replacement there was a quote from the book. The words were rainbow, holographic and extremely pretty, and I found it to be incredibly interesting. After reading the novel, it only furthered my belief that good books have good covers. There are other copies of the book that are printed with a different cover, but the one with the quote will always be my favorite.

              Something I have always found interesting though, were people’s different opinions on the covers of books. For me, I love it when a book has a unique cover, it has to stand out for me to pick it up. I’ll admit I did buy Illuminae by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff solely because the of the cool cover. It was designed like a classified document where more was revealed after removing the dust jacket. I still have yet to read it or know what it is about, so for right now, it’s just nice to look at. For me, a good cover has bright colors, exciting patterns and no people. I don’t know why but I always dislike when there is a person on the cover of my book. I start to feel like the book is pressuring me to imagine the characters the way it imagines them. The difference though, is that some of my friends love having people on the cover of books, the same way I’ve had friends that hated that I’ll Give You the Sun didn’t have the title. One book in particular was given to me by a friend a few years ago. She gave me the book, with a warning that the dust jacket was very ugly and that there was a better cover underneath. The book was The Forever Song by Julie Kanagawa. The first cover of the book had a purple background with white birds creating an infinity sign. When I took the dust jacket off, the entire cover was a medium shot of a girl’s head. I did not like it at all and actually thought the dust jacket was really pretty. It made me think, every time I judge a cover for being really ugly, that style was just made for another person’s preference.