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Showing posts with the label VIRGINIAN (THE)

Body-text fonts, pt. 51: De Vinne

Our ten-year anniversary festivities continue. On the day itself – Thursday – we took Daniel and Abel to the beach; Samuel was in school, but Karin’s mom joined us. Then, today, Karin & I left all three children with Karin’s dad and traveled to Niles. We watched The Sheep Detectives and ate cheap hot dogs at the cinema, strolled through the park, bought books and fancy candy, and dined on pizza. It was very “us.”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Penguin typeset a 1988 edition of The Virginian (1902) in De Vinne, a font from the late nineteenth century …


… only to re-set and reissue the book in Stempel Garamond, a little later. I guess the initial nod to quaintness was regretted.

Time was, this book was taught in schools.

Housebound

It’s only mid-December. Already, more snow has fallen than in an entire “average” winter. Or so I was told in church, and I believe it.

Nearly-four-year-old Daniel has cabin fever. He suggested we go strolling around the block. I explained that it was very cold (single digits, Fahrenheit). He suggested we wear clothes. I explained that I wouldn’t be able to push Abel’s stroller through the deep snow. Daniel didn’t know what to say to that.

It’s now been well over a month since I last took the children to the library, which, in fair weather, can be walked to in less than ten minutes. Two days ago, I went without the children; the clerks just smirked at me. Ah, well, let them enjoy the quiet a little longer. I realize my sons are notorious hellions. Abel, of course, is well-received; but now that he walks, who knows what havoc he might cause.

“Housebound” is a misleading title – I do leave the house. I’ve taken Samuel to his bus stop and attended church services and reading-group meetings. And last week, our family piled into the car and braved narrow, unplowed streets to watch Samuel sing in his school’s winter concert. (This was one of the songs.)

I had intended to try Kafka’s Castle again during this confinement; instead, I find myself caught up in a balmier book, Owen Wister’s Virginian.