As I get older I find myself increasingly drawn to the re-investigation of fondly remembered books and objects. Often the actuality falls far short of the memory, but I was delighted to find the 1972 Guinness Book of Records in a car boot sale last summer, for it is every bit as beguiling as I remember it.
This was one of my grandfather's books, and along with a fascinating set of encyclopedias it was my favourite choice from his shelf. So how do you engage the interest of a child with what is essentially a book of lists? You do it with exquisite Illustration, sensitive layout skills and wonderful draughtsmanship.
The colophon credits layout and Illustration to one Denzil Reeves, whom I've found passing reference to on the web but no biography (if you know more, please tell). His calligraphic skills are excellent—the cover type and frontispiece are hand drawn—but nevertheless this is a curious book. Illustrated title pages evoke the conventions of illuminated manuscripts, but at the same time it is a wholly modernist construction.
The clarity of the book comes from the deceptively simple grid and typography. Large titles are in Clarendon, while the main body is set in a text serif (a little too small to identify), with captioning in Helvetica. The grid is eight column, with two columns of body text and two thin columns which hold both captions and hanging sub heads. Pictures are black and white, but every chapter uses a different spot ink, out of which the Illustrations are often knocked out. Tables are clearly set, and no page ever feels over dense.
One of the things which occupied me longest about this book as a child was the cover, which is a masterpiece of playfulness. It's a rendering of an antique shop, populated with items from the book itself. The rear cover reproduces the view, but from behind the glass, enclosing in a good natured piece of trompe l'oeil a book which is to my mind a masterpiece of popular art. As the Guinness bottle in the window is labelled, priceless…
