Wellingborough – Seen in the Wild.

We’ve previously written here about the use of Wellingborough on the cover of Catherine Jinks’ children’ novel “Theophilus Grey and the Demon Thief”, as published by Allen & Unwin.  A very splendid cover we felt:

Theophilus Grey and the Demon Thief

We were equally pleased today to spot Wellingborough in a return appearance on the cover of the sequel “Theophilus Grey and the Traitor’s Mask”.  Another splendid piece of typography on a jolly splendid cover! Theophilus Grey and the Traitor's Mask | FINAL COVER (11 January

 

Spotted in the Wild

I was delighted to spot Catherine Jinks’ novel for younger readers (of all ages) published by Allen and Unwin “Theophilus Grey and the Demon Thief” in one of my favourite local bookshops. For those wondering, The bookshop is the Subiaco Bookshop, no connection except as a long term and very satisfied customer.  The cover  makes very splendid and appropriate use of the ‘Wellingborough’ typeface family to create some charming and eye-catching typography.

I maintain a small collection of items (most often books) which use Greater Albion’s typefaces, and had to purchase a copy to add to that accumulation.  That said, and notwithstanding being several decades older than the intended readership, I can heartily recommend Catherine’s book as a lively entertain read.

Demon Thief

Great Bromwich in Action

A recent siting of our Great Bromwich Regular typeface in use.  This is the cover of Andrea Mays’ ‘The Millionaire and the Bard’, published by Simon and Schuster in may this year:

the-millionaire-and-the-bard-9781439118238_hr

 

Their website gives the following information about the book:

The Millionaire and the Bard

 

based on 138 ratings | 43 reviews on Goodreads.com

Today it is the most valuable book in the world. Recently one sold for over five million dollars. It is the book that rescued the name of William Shakespeare and half of his plays from oblivion. The Millionaire and the Bard tells the miraculous and romantic story of the making of the First Folio, and of the American industrialist whose thrilling pursuit of the book became a lifelong obsession.

When Shakespeare died in 1616 half of his plays died with him. No one—not even their author—believed that his writings would last, that he was a genius, or that future generations would celebrate him as the greatest author in the history of the English language. By the time of his death his plays were rarely performed, eighteen of them had never been published, and the rest existed only in bastardized forms that did not stay true to his original language.

Seven years later, in 1623, Shakespeare’s business partners, companions, and fellow actors, John Heminges and Henry Condell, gathered copies of the plays and manuscripts, edited and published thirty-six of them. This massive book, the First Folio, was intended as a memorial to their deceased friend. They could not have known that it would become one of the most important books ever published in the English language, nor that it would become a fetish object for collectors. 

The Millionaire and the Bard is a literary detective story, the tale of two mysterious men—a brilliant author and his obsessive collector—separated by space and time. It is a tale of two cities—Elizabethan and Jacobean London and Gilded Age New York. It is a chronicle of two worlds—of art and commerce—that unfolded an ocean and three centuries apart. And it is the thrilling tale of the luminous book that saved the name of William Shakespeare “to the last syllable of recorded time.”