The Star of the East

There was a pub in Shoreditch…

Archive for Literature

Typography bible

I am a self proclaimed type bore but, having been working with the internet, and CD ROM design before that, for as long as I can remember I have all but given up on type on the web. Various so-called cutting edge designers have messed around with font design, but it’s mainly whizzy nonsense. Flash makes a pretty god job of rendering line work on screen but will bastardise anything other than very simple type designs.

But, as a relative newcomer to WordPress as a tool, I am still astounded by the typographical standards available to the mere novice at the click of a button. Most bloggers are not designers, they are just people who want a good tool to keep their thoughts organised and get them up on the net. They are not interested in the relative merits of Helvetica, Arial, Univers and Akzindenz Grotesque [don’t get me started] or in the various fascinating biographies of Caxton, Baskerville and Gill. They just want to write stuff. And they want people to read it. And that must where the answer lies. The web dude creating a cutting edge microsite for a cool new film or must have brand doesn’t want you to read boring old copy, he wants you marvel at how clever he is, how radical in his use of mash-up photography, 3D transitions, and mysterious intuitive navigation. That’s why he sets the type tiny [no more than 8pt].

But if you want people to read and take notice of what you say, you need good old fashioned typographic values. Go Gutenberg.

novel

Structure of The Victorian Novel; Time, place, character and narrative.

Pay attention, it’s more exciting than the Internet.
Time: The great thing about web sites is that they can be continually updated. The crap thing about web sites is that they hardly ever are. Clocks, calendars and visitor counters add nothing to zeitgeist of a web site [especially if you know that they are usually slapped on from off the shelf Java routines]. The first thing you do to check if someone is alive or frozen in time [i.e. dead] is to talk to them. If that doesn’t work you could always just give them a good shake. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” the first line of Dickens’ A Tale of Two cities. Wake up before it’s too late, you’re running out of time!

Place: In ‘cyber space’ there are no real places but this is not an excuse for wilful abstraction, it imposes a real need for users to identify and emotionally connect with Internet sites in an instinctive way. When I went to Boston last week, the reason I knew it was Boston, Lincolnshire and not Boston, Massachusetts had nothing to do with the big sign saying “Welcome to God’s own county” but it was the scale and the light and the smell of the place [cabbages actually]. Usability studies have made great play on consistency and conformity but if every web site looks the same, how can you tell where you are and do you even care?

Character: How does one create character or identity for an organisation without the shop fronts, marble clad receptions and monumental erections of old school corporations? Brand values take on a whole new significance in an arena where there is absolutely nothing except brand values. No ice cold and addictive refreshing soft drink, no purring 12 cylinder engine, and no whiter whites. It all comes down to colours, shapes and clever words. But,a word of warning, just because a corporation has chosen blue as signifier of their brand doesn’t mean they attend board meetings painted heads to toe in woad in blue rooms saturated with blue light and drink blue coffee. Even Dickens would draw the line at such gross cartoons.

Narrative: Hypertext, the H in HTML, implies no linear narrative, and is theoretically totally in the control of the user and entirely random. But we all know we need direction in life and never more so than when we are lost in space. Yes, the doorways are always there, but users need to be led. The people who think they know it all [power users] must be free to get lost at their leisure, but the rest of us want to know what happens next. Who shoot Phil?

All this might seem a bit of a tall order for the tiny world of digital design: smell? sound? Heroes? Life goals? secrets and lies? But if the Victorian novel can do it in black ink on grubby brown paper with no pictures then I think we can aim as high.

road dreams: westway

For not much more than 20 bucks you can fill your big old American car full of gas and drive across Texas for 9 hours straight without stopping or turning or blinking, and never see a soul except the shadow of a good old boy in the tinted windscreen of a shiny big Mack truck, or a Stetson in the back of a two door coupe the size of a boat and twice as rusty, with only the fantastic mountains for company, painted in flat shades of earth by a desperate dali, that never never get any closer and never go away. Jack rabbits and skunk and antelope take their chances on the asphalt roulette, chased by the little twisters of the mother of a storm, and the vultures pick off the remains of the dead tyres that 18 wheelers shed along the way. For sale, for sale, sing the boards on the roadhouses and shacks and vacant lots; good home needed for a family of 4 Airstream trailers grazing a barren paddock next to a restaurant sign that is bigger than the restaurant. Things you only dream about, or see in movies, big silver things in the sky, the roadrunner, cowboys riding bareback chasing trains that whistle in the middle of the night taking steel cattle coffins of T bones to the golden arches in the east, that house out of the film Giant, and the mysterious Marfa lights; creeks with no water and towns with no people and roads with no end and tumbleweed. and the sky turns black and blue and purple and red and gold and the horizon comes down to swallow the road and you drive on into the black velvet and you are alone in your car, until the glow comes up again, and 50 miles outside El Paso you see the lights on the Mexican side of the border spread out over the desert like a vast lake of people that is getting ready to flood over the border and steal cars and eat tacos and wait tables and mop floors and clean cars, shine shoes and shovel shit. Y’all c’mon, welcome to America.