Second, proof (if proof were required) that Silkworms is always precisely six days ahead of the Guardian/Observer: look who published an extract of Simon Garfield's new book, Just My Type, on Sunday. Admittedly, it looks like a thoroughly enjoyable take on an increasingly well-documented subject. So here, Alan Rusbridger, is the benefit of the doubt. By way of exchange, we're going to nick one of Garfield's excellent typographical anecdotes:
Most type designers are understandably proud of their work. But Cobden-Sanderson, the maker of the beautiful Doves type, was so taken by it, and so keen that his former business partner shouldn't use it after his death, that he resolved to drown every letter in the
Thames. In 1916 he began loading up his bicycle under cover of darkness and throwing his font under Hammersmith bridge. He made more than 100 separate trips, a large undertaking for a man of 76. And much of it still remains in its watery grave, forming itself into such words as the tide dictates.