Attitudes Behind Design
Merle Armitage • 1951
AThe really contemporary book has yet to be designed and manufactured. But as this truth becomes apparent, another fact emerges. There is now an understanding that the dead hand of tradition must be made to loosen its grasp B . . . the meaningless, outmoded cliches of design must give way to an expression of our generation's attitude toward books as tools C. D
A book is not a work of art in the sense that a Beethoven sonata E, a Chinese bronze, a Cezanne landscape, or a great poem is a work of art. A book is primarily a functional invention which can be made to approach the stature of a work of art. And in addition to being the vehicle F that so successfully carries the knowledge and the visions of men past and present, it is a synthesis of many crafts. The development of paper, of type, and of the printing press enabled man to produce the book, which in turn became the great escalator that has raised man from the dark pits of ignorance to his present liberty and power.
With all the great history of the book, its prestige, and its utility, why do some persons quarrel with the manner in which many of today's books are designed? H
For that answer, we must turn to the nature of man and to his attitude toward life and the world. As a very young man, I learned that two general attitudes seem to govern most actions and policies. Reactionary and progressive are the common terms. But, with a deep bow to mythology, my arbitrary designations are Promethean I and Apollonian.
The Promethean attitude is progressive, forward looking—dissatisfied with existing things and conditions J . . . an attitude committed to experimentation . The world, to Prometheans, is a challenge for inventive genius. We are indebted to the Prometheans for the best developments of the modern world.
The Apollonians, on the contrary, sharply question this progress. They look to the past and, above all, esteem order, moderation, and security. The Apollonians I have encountered (they are in every stratum of society) are, in the language of today, reactionary. They will not accept Stravinsky L, Martha Graham, or Picasso. Because they do not understand them, they are afraid of them. They are happy and secure only with established works of art and social institutions M. Baffled and anxious in our swiftly moving world, they are suspicious of innovations and insist on conformation.
Columbus had difficulty with the Apollonians before he sailed on a relatively important voyage of discovery. Abraham Lincoln disturbed their status quo. . . Pasteur N felt their pressure, as has every inventor, statesman, and creative artist. O
But this is no sneer at the reactionaries, for the Apollonian is as necessary as he is inevitable—he balances the world Q. Without his resistance, crackpots in every group and category would have a field day; mediocrities would rule the universe. Furthermore, the reactionary screens out the feeble, useless, imbecilic projects. The Edisons, the Frank Lloyd Wrights, the Wright brothers, and the Schoenbergs who pushed through the tough Apollonian crust have proved their convictions . . . they have met the test. For a long time now, the Apollonians have been making our books. But they did not always make them. Indeed, until the day of mass bookmaking, the makers of books were craftsmen-artists with very definite convictions R. Most of them were bold and resourceful innovators. But they made only a few books for a small, educated minority. Today, the book is for everyone, and our book-makers, large or small, are businessmen who manufacture a product S. There is no quarrel with that. Our builders of houses, factories, and office buildings are businessmen, too. But the builders have accepted the architects . . . and in that fortunate acceptance they have at one stroke freed themselves from a knotty problem, expanded their business enormously, and brought a new dimension into the world—the designed building. The benefits of all this in comfort, health, and beauty are too obvious to belabor here.
The book designer is now entering the field of book production. A few enlightened printers and publishers have accepted him, and others will do so. But again the Apollonian enters, saying that books must be designed traditionally. Paradoxically, the traditions the Apollonians would impose on us are the ideas of bold men—men who would frighten them if they were alive today! And here is an excellent opportunity to quote Mr. [Jean] Cocteau T on this pertinent subject:
• Those who defend today by making use of yesterday, and who anticipate tomorrow (1%).
• Those who defend today by destroying yesterday, and who will deny tomorrow (4%).
• Those who deny today in order to defend yesterday, which is their today (10%).
• Those who imagine that today is a mistake, and make an appointment for the day-after-tomorrow (12%).
• Those of the day-before-yesterday who defend yesterday in order to prove that today exceeds legitimate bounds (20%).
• Those who have not yet learned that art is continuous and believe that art stopped yesterday in order to go on again, perhaps, tomorrow (60%).
• Those who are equally oblivious of the day-before-yesterday, yesterday, and today (100%).
The Apollonians who design books maintain several humorously contrary attitudes : (1) that traditional design is more applicable to a book; (2) that design interferes with the reader and distracts him; (3) that modern design consists of chaotic attempts to be different.
It is not too difficult to answer these gentlemen: (1) What, may we ask, is applicable about placing a dynamic, modern story, or any contemporary matter, in an incongruously traditional home? (2) A well-designed book helps the reader by placing the text in an environment that suits it. To eliminate appropriate design from a book is to maintain that a house needs no other elements than walls and a roof, or that clothing has only one function: to cover nakedness. (3) There may be chaotic attempts to be different, for, as Theodore Roosevelt said, 'every reform has a lunatic fringe.' But the competent designer is one who knows that space relationships, color, and proportion must be coupled with an effort to make the text and the physical appearance supplement each other. Design must come from within—it must be an outer expression of an inner meaning, to be truly design. Anything superficial is simply a foreign element imposed without aesthetic or logical relationship.
Argument, however, will win no battles. Our young designers are moving into all fields of industry, business, manufacturing . . . and even into the world of book-making V. This is their day, and the backwardness of the book world provides them with an unexcelled opportunity; they have a great future before them. [Janus]
