01 September 2004

On Book Jackets

by Traci Glass

Book jacket, book cover, dust jacket, dust cover.

They are all words that describe one pretty innocuous thing: the thing that covers the hard cardboard cover of a book. The book jacket was developed for practical purposes only: to protect books from dust, insects and other harmful entities. However, as years progressed, the book jacket has become a separate part of the book itself and the reading experience. The book jacket has morphed into not only an addendum used to help sell the book, but also into a piece of art in and of itself. Classic books such as Ralph Ellison's The Invisible Man , Joseph Heller's Catch-22 and newer titles such as Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park and Chuck Palahniuk's Lullaby . There's even a celebrity book jacket designer in our midst; it's hard to miss Chip Kidd and his eclectic and eye catching designs gracing the shelves of bookstores and libraries across the country and the world. The book jacket has come a long way since its early inception as a protector of books; it has become the first step in the reading experience.

Although book covers have been decorated for many years, it wasn't until the 1800s that book jackets came into existence. �Book jackets first appeared in England in the nineteenth century, in a culture that was still discovering the rules of consumerism. Their early evolution came about in fits and starts, constrained by cultural inhibitions that are now difficult to understand. When decoration was present on the outside of the book, it took the form of either blocking onto binding cloth, or pasting printed paper sheets onto the front and back boards� (Powers 6). Up until the advent of book jackets at this time, the decorated covers of books were quite popular and even produced celebrities of book cover design. Aubrey Beardsley and Sarah Wyman Whitman were popular book cover designers of the 1800s. Pasted paper designs started appearing on books as early as the 1830s which soon gave way to two colored textured designs and gold stamping in the 1840s and 1850s. As the years progressed, the use of text and colored ink was simplified and became commonplace on book covers around the world. �The transformation of book design owed much to the Arts and Crafts movement, which revered the book as an object both functional and aesthetic, a part of everyday life yet worthy of care and adornment. William Morris had turned to typography in the 1890s, late in his career. Reacting against the harsh, sparkling pages of spiky type made possible by nineteenth-century printing and paper technologies, Morris reclaimed the weighty, dull-edged letters of early Renaissance typography� (Lupton 364).

As the 20 th century rolled around, the book jacket changed. �Only after 1900 did book jackets begin to become commonplace, and even then, the great majority consisted simply of a repetition of the blocking from the binding on a sheet of paper� (Powers 7). In the 1900s America saw a change in the financial demographic of the population at large. A middle class suddenly emerged as factories and machinery caused the industrial revolution to blossom in cities across the country. Art for this middle class flooded the market due to the fact that although their money was limited their numbers were staggering. Artists such as R. Atkinson Fox and companies such as Napco rushed to introduce art that people in this new middle class could afford to buy. Books and their jacket designs soon became a part of this new art explosion in the middle class society. As book jackets and cover designs became more complicated and ornate, they were seen as pieces of art, pieces of art which middle class Americans could afford to buy and display in their homes. Also, paperback novels or pulp novels, flooded the market that provided inexpensive ways for people to read. Their covers often contained highly decorative and provocative images; these books became legends in their own way.

As time progressed, America moved out of the Great Depression and into the style movement of the 1950s and 1960s. During this time, pulp novels rose to high popularity and the Beat generation introduced the world to their philosophy through books. Through it all, the book jacket and cover continued to change with the times, reflecting the fascination with alternative lifestyles and deviant behaviors. �Book-cover design encompassed an extraordinarily wide range of styles and techniques, and in a culture that was still dominated by the printed image and word, there was a steep increase both in quantity and quality of book-cover design� (Powers 41). Designers such as Paul Rand and Alvin Lustig experimented with lettering, photomontage, pencil drawings and illustrations to change the look of book jackets once again. This was the time of Ralph Ellison's The Invisible Man cover designed by Edward McKnight Kauffer and Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita . The first with a significant illustration on the cover, the other plain in the style of pornographic novels of the day. (Powers 62)

It was during this time that pulp novels finally came into their own in the literary scene of America . With their content came beautiful and often provocative and disturbing cover images designed to encourage the reader to throw down a quarter and become enveloped in stories of the deviant lifestyles of juvenile delinquents and dime store detectives. The pulp novels were highly colorful and full of interesting situations. On the cover of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd , a man is being stabbed in the back; to illustrate the dangers of drug use a picture of a man who hung himself is used to illustrate the cover of The Pusher . Pulp covers had a smoky feel and women were pictured in various states of undress in many examples. Pulp publishers even used specific colors as codes to the readers. �Red Arrow followed the lead of Kurt Enoch's Albatross and Allen Lane 's Penguin Books, color-coding its covers for easy identification by readers. Red covers meant mystery and crime fiction, green meant travel and adventure, and blue meant general fiction� (Lupoff 227). The cover art of pulp novels of the 1950s and 1960s often depicted the underbelly of society that traditional book jackets rarely touched on. In that way they are an art form in and of themselves.

Book jackets are an important part of a book. According to a study by Publishers Weekly , �75% of the 300 booksellers surveyed (half from independents and half from chains) said that, of all the elements of the book itself, the look and design of the cover was the most important. The booksellers also thought that the plot summaries on the flaps and back cover were important, though somewhat less so� (Rawlinson 8). One person who has made a name for himself in the world of book jacket design is Chip Kidd. He has designed books for Elmore Leonard, David Sedaris, Michael Crichton and Cormac McCarthy as well as the new Peanuts anthologies that have been released since the death of Charles M. Schultz. Chip Kidd is �the associate art director of jackets and special projects at Knopf� and is known for his unusual style and design. (Williams 142) He worked under Carol Carlson at Alfred A. Knopf in the beginning of his career. �Carson and her core staff of gifted younger designers � Chip Kidd, Barbara de Wilde, and Archie Ferguson � transformed bookstore shelves across the country� (Lupton 363). In terms of Elmore Leonard's books, Kidd says �With all due respect to whomever worked on them before, I never thought Leonard's books were given a fair chance because of the covers. I never saw one that made me want to pick it up� (Bing 18). By interjecting a new found excitement into the book jacket industry, Chip Kidd is introducing a whole new audience to the art of book jackets � he's making the jacket as intriguing as the book itself. �His often cheeky and urbane jacket art, more MTV than mass market�� would be prone to attract younger readers (Bing 18). Chip Kidd is bringing a new face and a changing facade to book jackets with the change of the century. As he said in a recent interview with the Onion A.V. Club, ��a good book cover makes you want to pick it up. End of story� (Phipps 1).

Over the centuries, book jackets have changed with the times, Modernism to Postmodernism, drawings and illustrations to photographs and digital mastery. Legends like Chip Kidd, Paula Scher, Sarah Wyman Whitman and Alvin Lustig have all made their marks on book jackets through the years. The truth is that book jackets allow the reader to use not only their mental skills, but their visual skills, as well, when choosing reading materials. A book jacket can make someone want to pick up the book or lay it down depending on what it portrays on the cover. Hopefully, book jacket art and designs will continue to mirror the society in which they reside as well as encourage readers to try a new book or a new author. Book jackets aren't an entity unto themselves, they are the first step in the journey of reading.

Bibliography and Suggested Readings

  • Bing, Jonathan. �Elmore Kidds Around.� Publishers Weekly 245 (February 23, 1998): 18-19.
  • Feldman, Beth. �Covers That Catch the Eye.� Publishers Weekly 238 (November 1, 1991): 46-48.
  • Harnum, Bill. �Whose Cover Is It Anyway?� Journal of Scholarly Publishing 30, no. 3 (April 1999): 146-152.
  • Lupoff, Richard A. The Great American Paperback . Portland , Oregon : Collectors Press, 2001.
  • Lupton, Ellen. � Colophon : Women Graphic Designers.� In Women Designers in the USA 1900-2000 , edited by Pat Kirkham, 362-381. New York : Yale University Press, 2000.
  • Matthews, Jack. �And Another Thing�: Dust Jackets and the Art of Memory.� Logos 14, no. 3 (2003): 155-158.
  • McQuiston, Liz. Women in Design: A Contemporary View . New York : Rizzoli, 1988.
  • Phipps, Keith. �An Onion A.V. Club Interview with Chip Kidd.� The Onion A.V. Club .
  • Powers, Alan. Front Cover: Great Book Jacket and Cover Design . London : Octopus Publishing, 2001.
  • Reese, Teresa. The Best in Covers & Posters 9 . Rockville , Maryland : RC Publications, Inc., 1991.
  • Pedersen, Martin. �To Tie In or Not to Tie In.� Publishers Weekly 240 (July 26, 1993): 24-25.
  • Rawlinson, Nora. �Why Not Judge a Book by Its Cover?� Publishers Weekly 247, no. 6 (February 7, 2000): 8.
  • Reid, Calvin. �Chip Kidd: Designer-Man Wields Pen!� Publishers Weekly 248, no. 44 (October 29, 2001): 31.
  • �Seeing Double, Selling Well.� Publishers Weekly Supplement 245 (June 1998 supp): S21-S22.
  • Stevenson, Nanette. �Hipper, Brighter and Bolder.� Publishers Weekly 244 (February 17, 1997): 139-141.
  • Sullivan, Ed. �Judging Books by Their Covers, Part II: Hardcover vs. Paperback.� Voice of Youth Advocates 23, no. 4 (October 2000): 244-248.
  • Sullivan, Edward T. �Judging BOOKS by their COVERS: A Cover Art Experiment.� Voice of Youth Advocates 21, no. 3 (August 1998): 180-182.
  • Williams, Wilda. �Judging This Author by His Covers.� Library Journal 126, no. 16 (October 1, 2001): 142-143.

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Librarian Movie Reviews

by Heather Phillips

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!"

You wouldn't think there would be much of a connection between L. Frank Baum and a giant, floating stone head, but in fact, there is. It is when Zed, a remorseless Brutal, makes this connection that the final crisis of humanity begins.

Zardoz is the first movie I will review in what I hope will become a series of reviews on the subject of libraries in movies. It opens in the year 2293 upon a post-apocalyptic world (obviously inspired by Aldous Huxley) in which the only remnants of human society are the deathless and supercilious Eternals who live in a series of inescapable and impregnable �Vortexes� and the Brutals whom they manipulate. Zed (played by Sean Connery) gains entry to one of the Vortexes by means of the giant flying stone head, which the Brutals worship as the fearsome god 'Zardoz.' The Eternals consider Zed an interesting biological specimen and begin to study him. While they are studying him, he is studying them, trying to devise a way of destroying "The Tabernacle," the self-aware database that keeps the Eternals from dying.

Despite its surreal pseudo-artistic trippiness, Zardoz projects two very potent views of libraries. Zed begins to doubt the authenticity of his god in a library (where he reads the Wizard of OZ). On the other hand, the Vortexes themselves were originally akin to libraries--great repositories of knowledge that cut themselves off from the rest of the world and evolved into the stagnant, complacent society illustrated by the Eternals.

The effete lives lived in the Vortexes is in no way connected to the 'nasty, brutish and short' existence of the outside world. The Eternals manipulate the people on the outside in much the same way as a rancher controls his herds--by breeding the best specimens and by killing the rest. The Eternals are so disconnected from humanity that they are barely even connected to themselves, having become so cerebral that they don't even sleep. Knowledge is dangerous, Zardoz says, when it is concentrated in the hands of a few. Zardoz envisions a world where the sequestered elites have sole access to knowledge--and access to knowledge is access to power.

In a sense, Party Girl proclaims the same message -- that knowledge is power -- but portrays it in a much more egalitarian manner. Parker Posey plays Mary, the party girl of the title, who lands in jail after a wild party, and calls upon her godmother, a librarian at a branch library somewhere in New York City, to bail her out. After a shouting match ("You don't think I'm smart enough to work in your fucking library?!"), Mary takes a job as a library clerk. Despite Mary's (admittedly muddled) attempts to gather her life into some kind of coherent order, her godmother persists in seeing her as a feckless hedonist, constantly saying that Mary is just like her mother--who "had no common sense!"

In Party Girl, it is self knowledge that is power, and the library is the symbol of Mary's pursuit and capture of that knowledge. It is in the library that she begins to find direction for her life--to make decisions and to develop the 'common sense' she seems to be lacking.

Unfortunately, Party Girl portrays librarians very much in the 'Nancy Pearl' mode--dressing them in clunky glasses and unattractive shades of gray, and displaying a condescending tendency to intimidate others by using use fifty-cent words while constantly shushing the patrons. Mary has to shed her vintage couture wardrobe and put her hair in a bun before she can announce that her life's ambition is librarianship. I was disappointed by the disjointedness of this movie. It obviously wanted to be Breakfast at Tiffany's or Clueless, but couldn't manage the necessary subtlety. But while Party Girl certainly won't be making anyone's Top-100 List, it manages an undemanding, pleasant fluffiness seasoned with enough interesting characters and sub-plots that makes it watchable.

For more information about the movies mentioned, check out theses websites.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070948/maindetails

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0114095/

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054698/

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112697/

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01 January 2004

Issue Intro: Holiday Hangover and the Promise of Spring

January is a weird time of year. Guilt over holiday excesses are juxtaposed with the hope a new year brings—new classes, new opportunities, new professors, (a new President!?). We like to take stock in what we got, and what we want. What better way to kick off the Spring semester than with a new issue of BiblioTech. (No, we haven't come up with a new name yet. Sorry, MIT et al. . .) This issue is chock full o' concerns familar to those of us in Libraryland (intellectual freedom, the challenges of reference work, scary internships, what we should learn in school) and those that are not so familiar (trading live recordings of jam bands, songs about libraries). Happy reading!

This is only our second issue, but we're thrilled to have been cited in Walt Crawford's Cites & Insights and mentioned on Jessamyn West's Librarian.net. You never know who's going to read you when you're out there in cyberspace!

Many applause to the students who contributed to this issue—you made it happen! Props also go to Wendy Resnik (editor extraordinaire) and the Library Student Organization for their support. May your Spring 2004 semester be all you want it to be and more.

Thanks,

Lori Ito Hardenbergh
Web Editor, BiblioTech

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Not the Sound of Silence Footnoting the Pop/Rock Sounds of the Library

by Ted Liebler

While in the University of Arizona's Music Library evaluating their reference collection for a class project, I came across the following book and annotated it for my pathfinder:

Green, J. (2002). The Thematic Guide to Popular Music, Nashville: Professional Desk References.
This massive guide categorizes music by lyrical theme(s) and/or song titles. For instance, there are listings of songs by days of the week, women's first names and cities around the world. The perennial themes of love, romance and relationships are broken down into 25 sub-categories.

Paging through it spurred me to wonder about songs written about or songs referring to libraries or librarians. While there were song listings galore referring to books (e.g., "Book of Love" by the Monotones and "Little Red Book" by Burt Bacharach/ Hal David), librarians and libraries were not even a category, subcategory or even crossed-referenced! This void gave me the impetus to do my own brief exploration and survey, drawing upon the vast resources of the web, friends, and my record collection, of the brief instances where the music world danced in library land.

Tori Amos-"Tales of a Librarian"
Classmate and Health Science librarian Virginia Sanchez filled me in on this one. I looked it up on Allmusic.com and found it was a collection of her hit songs. The record reviewer MacKenzie Wilson even writes, "Tales of a Librarian: A Tori Amos Collection is not only one of the most intriguing titles for a hits compilation, but the package itself captures only the best from Amos' years spent with Atlantic."

BiblioTech editor Lori Ito Hardenbergh recently mentioned that songs on this album are even organized according to the Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC) system! Check out the following link from Library Journal, which succinctly provides "an abstract" to her recorded tales: http://www.libraryjournal.com/article/CA341766

The Librarians
A now defunct power-pop band from Oakland, CA who used librarian stereotypes as part their shtick. For example, their band logo includes an illustration of a pair of black-framed glasses with one shattered lens. A photograph of the same motif appears on the back cover of their lone CD (properly clogging the used CD racks of the Bay Area). While they do have a song titled "Peace & Quiet, " I would have bestowed them all with "Superstar Reader" awards if they recorded a concept album where every song had a library theme. They could have even written sappy and juvenile songs with titles like: "Flashing lights (mean the library will be closing)," "I'll give you a call number, but not my phone number," "I like MARC, but not you Mark" and "This Moment of Silence is Sponsored by the Library." Writing of juvenile and sappy... brings us to another Bay Area-based band.

Green Day-"At the Library"
Before the band broke through to the mainstream with their punky-pop snappy sound and "Turk 182" had greater pop-culture currency than Blink 182, they wrote of an across-the-reading room secret crush in 1990. (If the song was written in 1995, the song title might have been "At Computer Lab" or in 2002 "Across the ILC.") The possibilities are quickly squelched when the proverbial boyfriend enters the picture and the couple walk away. However, the song ends on the hopeful (or should I say hopeless) romantic note with the last line of "Maybe We'll Meet Again Someday."

Gil and Johnny-Alice
Only in the '60s, could some Los Angeles studio amalgamation come up with a bubblegum psychedelic song with the opening salvo and rhyme scheme of: "I made a visit local library/I wanted smarts like my friends Tom, Rick and Harry." This 1966 song, musically modeled on Lovin' Spoonful's "Daydream Believer and Peter, Paul and Mary's "I Dig Rock 'n' Roll Music" has the narrator proceed to the children section and "trip" upon Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass. The reader/singer becomes enraptured with this book and proceeds to sing about Alice's adventures until the end of this good-timey two minutes of mimicry.

International Brunch Mummies-"Library Place"
Wow, what a wacky name for a band and in their song package is a number called "Library Place." Unfortunately, I couldn't discern if the lyrics refer to something akin to evaluating the interior layouts of libraries or diatribe against those who eschew the massed-produced art hanging up at IHOP, due to the murky mid-fidelity internet stream from the New Jersey independent radio station WFMU. I did find out, from a Google search, that the lead singer does like to hang-out at the local library.

With the exception of the Tori Amos' collection of "stories within stories," the aforementioned examples of where librarians and libraries acted as the muse for music are admittedly hardly a stockpile and are pretty much regulated to the corners of the internet and/or buried deep in independently released albums. However, stepping-stones are always necessary before a true movement can be set in motion...

Ted Liebler was born in Indianapolis, IN and grew up in the great and grim Midwest. He studied at Michigan State University before transferring to the University of Notre Dame and graduating with an American Studies degree in 1995. Before starting graduate school in fall of 2003, Ted wrote for several online and print music publications. He also contributed to the forthcoming music book titled Lost in the Grooves: Scram's Capricious Guide to the Music You Missed. It is slated to be published by Routledge in fall 2004.





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