Book Covers Hall of Fame, Part II
It seems like the right time to induct some more works into the prestigious Bookmarking Book Covers Hall of Fame. (Clearly, ironic air quotes should by all rights be added to the word “Fame” in this context.)
The first class of honorees included such heavy hitters as Catcher in the Rye and The Great Gatsby, the Babe Ruth and Chuck Berry of their particular field of accomplishment. For this early summer induction ceremony we’ll look a little farther afield for a few deserving but less obvious choices.
John Gall is an influential art designer for Vintage and Anchor books, companies whose book covers are almost always so compelling that I immediately consider buying any reasonably priced used copies of them I find even if I already own other editions. There’s just something about that Vintage imprint on the spine that screams, “Classy, and you know it!”
Gall’s design for the rather scholarly A General Theory of Love might be the coolest book cover I’ve ever seen:
Designer Evan Gaffney is a book cover creator whose visual style is almost always recognizeable once you’ve seen a collection of his work. Like the great Chip Kidd, his designs can be wildly different but still retain a totally distinctive element not easily copied by second-rate knockoffs.
Gaffney’s design for One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding, is about as perfect as it gets:
The cover for James Hawes’s Why You Should Read Kafka Before You Waste Your Life just kills me. I find myself staring at it for minutes at a time and laughing even the 100th time I glance at it. As is so often the case with my favorite book covers, it’s the small details that really bring it on home to all-time classic status. In this case, it’s the cockroach’s crossed legs:
I also feel like I just know exactly what his face looks like . . . but I never will.
Finally, attention must be paid to a cover unearthed by the great FontFeed.com’s “Typodisasters” collection. It’s not even a typo, really. It may even be for real, although comments seem to suggest “it’s only a careless library rebind.” Whether intentional or simply the greatest moment of irony in the history of the English language, this one richly deserves its spot in the Hall of Fame:
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Chris, I’d like to think that the “careless library rebind” was on purpose, because that would make it art! However, the fact that “arrangement” is misspelled makes think it was just sloppy work, and that makes it annoying. I still may print this out and put it on my bulletin board. It’s classic, if nothing else!