I
It is a pity that bookbinding and printing have drifted so far apart, since they are so intimately related. A good book cannot be produced without the coÖperation of both crafts, and that coÖperation ought to be of a much closer nature. The printing and the binding of a book should be done by artists or craftsmen actuated by a unity of purpose and effort similar to the unity that must prevail in the book if it is to express anything worthy. In the production of books of a high excellence it is necessary that the binding shall chord with the general nature as expressed through the printing and as fixed by the literary body. This result can only be assured if the printers and the binders work in close harmony. When it is manifestly present in the book of today it is necessary to assume that the agreeable result follows the effects of some influence outside of printers and binders, brought strongly to bear upon each, rather than the result of a harmonious understanding of the artistic proprieties of the case by either the printer or the binder. Binding has a double significance: It is essentially artistic, and emphatically a mechanical process. In its artistic phase it rivals printing; it is considered to be quite apart from printing, in fact, since there is a pretty decided cult in binding that takes no cognizance of typography or of literary character. With this collector's estimate of bindings we are not here concerned. The desire to cheapen production has led to serious deterioration in the quality of binding, of the ordinary library editions of books, during the past century. Machine methods, unobjectionable when used upon very cheap books but disastrous to the lasting quality of library books, have obtained an undesirable vogue, and they are so capable of cleverly simulating good work that they have been a very active agent in the decay of good binding practice. The results of the more recent binding methods are extremely lamentable, and those results have but partially made themselves manifest. The next generation, and the generations after the next, will suffer for the sins of the binders of the books issued during the last half of the nineteenth century. The twentieth century may achieve no more creditable record, but the sinning will be in the light and will not be due to ignorance. The English Society of Arts charged a special committee with the task of investigating the cause of the decay in bindings, and the report of this committee may be one impulse urging publishers to require better workmanship and better methods. This committee formulated five specifications against prevailing methods, each of which constitutes a defect of a radical nature recognizable and curable only by bookbinders or experts in bookbinding. Books are, this committee found, sewn on too few and too thin cords; the slips are pared down too much and are not always firmly enough laced into the boards; the use of hollow backs is condemned; headbands are not sufficiently strong to hold the leather of the back against the strain of taking the book from the shelf; leather used is often far too thin; leather is wetted and stretched to such a point that little strength is left to resist wear and tear.
It must be noted in extenuation that at least one of the counts in this indictment may be partially condoned, upon the ground that the fault crept into bookbinding practice with the intent to facilitate the reading of the book and not to cheapen its production. The hollow back was adopted for the twofold purpose of allowing the book to be opened easily and flatly and to preserve the tooling and gilding on the back. This form of back need not be always reckoned as bad. It is quite possible to bind a book well and use the hollow back, and it is extremely easy to use the hollow back to cover sins that ought not to be condoned in a binding.
The life of a book depends upon its binding. The leading idea in planning a binding for a good book should therefore be to strive for strength, durability, and convenience. To beautify a book in its binding should be the secondary motive. But the idea of beauty, through harmony and the application of elementary art precepts, may always be considered with the strictly utilitarian processes, and the book may be brought into close accord with the requirements of art without any strain for art efforts being apparent nor any economical or mechanical purpose being strained or perverted. This can be effected by arranging the binding to tone with the literary and typographic motives, and studying to have all details harmonious—such as the lettering on the side and back; the design of the stamp for the cover, if there be a stamp; the material for the cover, its texture and its color, etc.
It is manifestly impossible to put into print specific directions for the binding of a book to bring it within the meaning of the term "artistic" while it does not depart from the ordinary in quality or form. It is quite easy to perceive however that for a book of a certain literary quality a binding consisting of a buckram back and paper sides is exactly appropriate, while a cloth binding with a gilt stamp is obviously not harmonious. If the title-stamp on the back of a book is made of type unlike that used for the title-page there is a jarring note that might easily have been avoided. The motive of a book should extend its influence to, and envelope, every process necessary for its completion; it should be as apparently in control of every detail of the visible binding as of the typography, the format, and the paper. It produces an agreeable impression upon the reader if he discovers this artistic unity in a book he hopes to extract literary profit or enjoyment from—if the typography, the format, the paper, and the binding all tone to the same key, and that key in harmony with the literary motive.
This much of art is possible for all bindings. When they rise above this mere expression of harmony, of unity, there is a widely different question involved. Then there must be art for art's sake, rather than art for the book's sake; and of bindings that are in and of themselves works of art we have for the present nothing to say.
As to exactly what constitutes a proper binding for a given book there may be differences of opinion, especially if the inquiry be pushed so far as to involve questions of art, or questions concerning the artistic qualities of harmony and unity. There are however certain broad lines which may be indicated within which worthy bindings must be brought, leaving plenty of latitude for individuality in taste and in judgment. What these basic requirements are is perfectly known to practical bookbinders and to publishers; to many printers as well. They should be as familiar to the lay mind, and every book should have printed somewhere in it a clear statement of the specifications of its binding. Its typography is visible; so is its format and its paper. The vital parts of its binding are concealed, from the expert as from the tyro, and every purchaser of an ordinary book stands to lose heavily if the foundations of its binding are not honestly laid.
The specifications for the binding of a fine book should show, then, that the cover material is all leather of some one of the approved sorts and properly manufactured, sheets carefully folded, single leaves guarded round the sections next to them, all plates guarded, guards sewn through, and no pasting or overcasting; end papers sewn on and made of good paper, board papers of good quality of paper or vellum; edges to be trimmed and gilt before sewing, or left uncut; sewing to be with ligature silk around five bands of best sewing cord; back to be as nearly flat as possible without forcing it and without danger of its becoming concave in use; boards to be of the best black millboard, and the five bands laced in through two holes; headbands to be worked with silk on strips of vellum or catgut or cord, with frequent tiedowns, and "set" by pieces of good paper or leather glued at head and tail; lettering to be legible, in harmony with the typography of the book or with the decorations; decorations such as may be wished.
These skeletonized specifications may be modified in some particulars if they are to be applied to grades of books below the best, but great care and good judgment must be exercised to guard against an extent of deterioration which will bring the book below its standard of utility and beauty. For library books, for example, the covers may be half leather or any of the several serviceable cloths; the end papers may dispense with the board papers; the edges may be cut guillotine and colored instead of gilt, or the top only may be gilt; the sewing may be done with unbleached thread and the tapes may be reduced to four of unbleached linen; the boards may be of split gray stock or of strawboard with black board liner, and the tapes may be attached to portion of waste sheet inserted between the boards; the headbands may be omitted and cord substituted, or they may be worked with thread or vellum.