Body-text fonts, pt. 42: Monotype Garamond (or something close)
At the ripe old age of about sixty, Evelyn Waugh published A Little Learning, the first volume of his autobiography. It was his last book. Two years later, he died.
A Little Learning begins like this:
How’s that for eloquent weariness?
(There are Garamonds and Garamonds. I don’t know all of their histories. This is Monotype’s metal-type version or something close enough; the digitization is what everyone recognizes from Microsoft Word.)
Waugh’d be a challenge for me to read chronologically because I’ve gone through his early novels many times and his late works hardly at all. I’d have to make it past Brideshead and The Loved One to get to the really unfamiliar stuff. In the mid-1940s, Waugh began tackling a steeper grade than I’ve been able to climb at the breakneck pace he set in his comical works.
It’s better, perhaps, to try going backwards, to begin with sluggish, morbid despair and retrace the author’s path from initial hilarity (in its way, just as despairing).
Despair usually is a sin, but in Waugh’s case it may actually be a virtue.
A Little Learning begins like this:
How’s that for eloquent weariness?
(There are Garamonds and Garamonds. I don’t know all of their histories. This is Monotype’s metal-type version or something close enough; the digitization is what everyone recognizes from Microsoft Word.)
Waugh’d be a challenge for me to read chronologically because I’ve gone through his early novels many times and his late works hardly at all. I’d have to make it past Brideshead and The Loved One to get to the really unfamiliar stuff. In the mid-1940s, Waugh began tackling a steeper grade than I’ve been able to climb at the breakneck pace he set in his comical works.
It’s better, perhaps, to try going backwards, to begin with sluggish, morbid despair and retrace the author’s path from initial hilarity (in its way, just as despairing).
Despair usually is a sin, but in Waugh’s case it may actually be a virtue.