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Showing posts with the label ROOM WITH A VIEW (A)

Body-text fonts, pt. 11: Vendôme

His departure is old news, but I’d like to record my gratitude to the Argentinian Gustavo Alfaro, Ecuador’s manager during this last World Cup cycle. An astute tactician and a careful mentor to young pros; by most accounts, a good person.

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This month I exhibit a bizarre typeface. It appears as body text in just one of my volumes, a Random House Value Publishing omnibus of E. M. Forster’s novels (obtained last weekend at Goodwill).


The italics are severely slanted.


That’s how they were designed to look.

[Update, 27 January: I now believe this isn’t a sample of true italics. Here’s a website where you can buy cheap font files of Vendôme. Images of body text are provided. Roman text looks like this; italics look like this.

You can see the italics aren’t just slanted versions of the romans. Compare the roman and italic uppercase “A,” as well as the roman and italic lowercase “b”: the romans have more serifs. And in the italic lowercase “g,” the lower and upper storeys are farther apart than in the roman “g.” On the other hand, all these differences are absent from the text sample taken from the Forster omnibus.

Of course, not every genuine Vendôme will look exactly like Fontsite’s Vendôme.]

Karin didn’t bother with the typesetting. She listened to a recording of the book. Cecil Vyse and Cousin Charlotte irked her equally.

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Daniel sleeps; I type.


He often goes to bed like this. I put on soothing Italian soundtrack music and lie with him. He rolls and jumps on me; then, declining suddenly, he “gives up the ghost.”

Sherlock Hound

… or, in Japanese, Famous Detective Holmes, is a 1984 TV series of Hayao Miyazaki’s. I never thought I’d get to view it without having to shell out a lot of money. Last night, though, our Amazon Fire TV Stick suggested that we try the show for free using the HappyKids.tv app. (We haven’t watched much of Miyazaki with the Fire Stick, but it must know that we like our British period shows.)

On the basis of our first episode – “A Small Client,” a.k.a. “Little Martha’s Big Mystery,” which adapts Arthur Conan Doyle’s story “The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb” – I’d say the show is a great success. Miyazaki’s Sherlock is youthful and tousle-headed. Mrs. Hudson – also surprisingly young, and exuding kindness – is a Victorian beauty (or, rather, she is as beautiful as a talking cartoon dog could be). Moriarty is a flamboyant wolf, while Watson and Lestrade belong to portlier breeds. Transport, done by hansom cab in Doyle’s stories, is here performed in a nifty little motorcar upon which Holmes – or Hound – has doubtless tinkered. Another marvel is a machine that wheezes and gasps as it mints counterfeit coins bearing the image of Queen Victoria.


Alas, as the show was being made, its production team turned over. Some of its episodes failed to reach the highest standard – or so says one reviewer. But a half-dozen episodes do evince the master’s touch. (The reviewer lists them.)

Karin & I are delighted to have found this show. Samuel also watched with interest and didn’t howl as he did when we tried to watch Sanditon – a Jane Austen series in which the men do naked sea-bathing (but not with such courage as in the Merchant-Ivory Room with a View).

Update: What we watched tonight: “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle” (the link is to YouTube – this video was uploaded within the last day or so).

A room with a view

Having just finished reading A Room with a View, I revisited the movie. It improves upon its source in this way: it gives more humor to the young George Emerson.

In this added scene, George climbs a tree and says his “creed.” And in this one, he teases the story’s killjoy, the spinster Charlotte Bartlett. Without such scenes I doubt that Roger Ebert would have said that George was his favorite character.

And not only does the movie reveal George more completely, it also reveals Freddy Honeychurch and the Reverend Arthur Beebe.

My own bedroom has no view; the blinds are always closed. (They’re translucent, however, and through them one sees the dancing silhouettes of leaves.) I do not stay long in my bedroom. I leave it to sit in the front room, or to pace in the kitchen. Or I spend hours out of doors. I’ve been outside more this year than ever in my life. In Ithaca my room had a splendid view, but I languished in my armchair day after day.