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When It’s Okay to Judge a Book by Its Cover
In early modern publishing, books were sold with cheap paper covers and later rebound by collectors, who commissioned elegant designs that were often unique to each library.
I n the early days of printing, books weren’t sold in paperback or hardcover. Instead they came as a collection of pages bound in “publisher’s boards” – which were really just paper. That inexpensive cover could later be replaced by a more permanent binding made from leather or other materials. People rich enough to have personal libraries often had their books bound in characteristic styles. Picture today’s interior design trend of having bookshelves organized by color or turned the wrong way so the spines are hidden – only these collectors didn’t buy books based on their covers, they decided what the books’ covers would look like.
Custom book binding remained a fashionable practice through the 19th century, says Benoit Puttemans, Director and Senior Specialist in the Books and Manuscripts Department at Sotheby’s Paris. “People might take a book by the French playwright Molière, remove the old and simple binding and then replace it with red Morocco leather or gilt binding because it seemed more luxurious,” he explains. But when it comes to collecting great works, “Most bibliophiles today find it better to have the original binding, even if it’s simple,” Puttemans says.
Yet there’s a subsection of books that are so finely bound that they’re considered works of art in themselves, Puttemans says. These binders, some of whom became famous enough that collectors seek out their work, might use traditional materials like Morocco leather or vellum but also wood, lacquered bindings or embossed and colored illustrations. Some books were painted on the fore-edge where the pages line up, while others used a mosaic of different colored Moroccan leathers. “The books became works of art, and as an artist the binder would use many different materials and methods,” Puttemans says.
“The books became works of art, and as an artist the binder would use many different materials and methods.”
- Benoit Puttemans, Director and Senior Specialist, Books and Manuscripts
Jean de Gonet, born in 1950 in France, is a name that comes up often in fine binding. He designed and produced 1,600 bindings over the course of his career. While some of his books are bound with traditional materials (albeit often sans traditional aesthetics), he wasn’t bound to them. He invented a rubber-like plastic that could be molded, and used it to bind several books. De Gonet’s library of work is far from being one of leather-spines and gilt.
Going farther back, there’s Pierre-Emile Legrain, a bookbinder and Art Deco furniture designer, born in 1889. At the time he was working, fine bookbinding often used a similar color palette with brown, red or green leather and maybe some gold gilt for decorative elements. Legrain’s books have an unmistakably Jazz Age feel. There’s a deep appreciation for lines and repeating geometric patterns. His color palette was decidedly contemporary as well.
Binders like Legrain and de Gonet often signed their work, punctuating that these expertly bound books were as much of an artistic accomplishment as a painting or sculpture.
For most of these finely bound books on the market today, the text matters less than what’s on the outside. If an early edition of Shakespeare or Jane Austen were rebound – no matter how fantastic the cover – it would likely be less valuable than if the book had kept its original bindings, aged though they might be. Whether or not to rebind a book is its own complicated question among collectors.
Some of the most expensively bound books, on the other hand, aren’t for titles most readers have heard of. These are books meant to be judged by their covers.
