The Harebrained Bookbinding Challenge: 23 Books in 30 Days

The countdown to The Harebrained Press’ inaugural launch has begun, and I’ve got a lot of books to bind! 23, to be exact, which will cover the last of my pre-orders (so far) and leave some over for those who’d like to purchase a book at the launch. I thought I’d set myself the challenge of binding these within a month—and take you along for the ride.

This is quite a challenge; the last batch of books I bound (pictured left) numbered 13, and took me a little over a month. I'm hoping a deadline will inspire me to work a bit faster...wish me luck!

Here’s some images of days 1-3. I’ve spent about 30 hours sewing my printed and folded pages together into text blocks. I use pure unbleached linen tapes and thread—linen is known for its strength and longevity. The pages themselves are Italian cotton paper. The sewing frame was fashioned for me by Frank Wiesner, who trained as a cabinet maker within the traditional guild system in Germany.

After I’ve hammered down the swell, the folds in the page sections need to be glued together to form a flat, unified plane. This is so that it can later be formed into that lovely convex shape you see in some of your older book spines. The heat on this day was great for drying glue, but not for hair stylishness, as you can see from my photo!

In the second image you’ll see that I’ve marked lines for trimming. Ruling and marking 23 text blocks is no easy thing for me; I’m not strong on seeing whether or not something’s square. I’ve never been so excited to own a set square. There’s nothing worse than a wonky book. 

Now it’s time to trim the long edge off these text blocks.

After spending years over the printing press, I decided that I wouldn’t trust anyone to cut my pages down to size except myself. Guillotining is quick—but it can also be an easy way to ruin books. I decided to use a book plough instead. 

The plough was invented in the 16th Century and revolutionised page-cutting. Before then, binders had used a sawing blade to cut down their books—a difficult process with a messy finish. The plough makes the cut smooth, straight and polished. But, like everything done by hand, it takes time. Cotton paper is hard on the blade, so I need to sharpen it often. My partner, Kain, has a special name for my ploughing rig: he calls it my ‘barbed wire canoe’. After a day of ploughing it starts to feel that way!

Even so, this plough is my favourite piece of kit in the studio. It oozes history, and it works beautifully. In the 1860s tools were made to last.

Now it’s time to mould the sections of paper at the spine by backing the book. This will ‘set’ the convex shape and create a shoulder for the cover boards to butt up against.

This photo shows me locking a book into the press. The press puts consistent pressure just under the spine, at the point where the cover boards will need to rest. I can then gently hammer each paper section in a downward motion so that it rests on the one beside it, with the outermost forming a right angle at the top of the press. 

Below you can see the mushroom-head shape of the backed book and how the outermost sections create the shoulders that the boards rest against.

Special thanks go to Adrian Holland for giving me this excellent backing press, which he made himself out of scrap metal.

Here’s a photo of the bindery after 3 days of ploughing. My whippet, Jed, isn’t impressed that he hasn’t been getting much attention!

I think of the freshly-ploughed text blocks as newborn books. Like babies, they’re naked, vulnerable, and need to be handled gently.

One of the things I love about books with rounded spines is the concave shape created by the closed pages. To get this area super smooth, the bookbinder employs some sophisticated tools: an old broom handle, sandpaper, and lots of elbow grease!

 I also need to sand the tops (heads) of my red books to a smooth finish before I apply their ink colouring. Aside from making them look pretty, the coloured head protects the text from dirt, dust and moisture. Each book requires five coats, and a layer or two of wax.

Like many other features in older books, headbands aren’t just decorative—they also serve a function. Have you ever pulled a book from the shelf by hooking your finger over the top of the spine? The headband reinforces this area, preventing you from tearing the spine material.

Have you ever wondered what’s underneath those leather and cloth spines? Here’s a peek.

In bookbinding, ‘Mull’ is an open-weave cotton material. This is glued down first and will form the connecting material between the book and its covers. Over this: craft paper, which fills in the hollows between the tapes and leaves a smooth, rounded finish.

I have two versions of the book and each has a different spine construction. My Red Books have the leather stuck directly onto the spine. Because my Blue Books are covered with the stiffer material, a cardboard ‘hollow’ is stuck down first, which lifts the buckram from the spine and allows for easy opening.

Did you know that some books have wings? Well…not wings exactly—flanges.

When I was deciding on the type of binding I wanted for my books, one of my biggest priorities was durability. The library style binding was designed for books that would see heavy use, and one of its features is that the front covers are formed from two pieces of cardboard glued together. Inserted between these boards are the flanges, formed from tapes, mull, and the outer sheets of the book itself—all origamied up into neat little wings.

Finally!—it’s time to attach book covers...

I’m always relieved to get to this point for two reasons: firstly, because the pages will now be protected by the boards, so I can stop being a helicopter mum; and secondly, because I’ll soon have an actual, working book.

I use a cardboard jig because the boards need to be attached at a certain distance from the spine. This is called ‘setting the grooves’ and allows space for the covering material at the joint. After I’ve worked out (and marked) the boards’ position, I glue between the split boards, then insert the flange. Next, the book goes in the press for an hour.

Here’s one of my books. It’s a favourite, both inside and out—Walter de la Mare’s The Connoisseur and Other Stories, published in 1926. As you can see, it’s well-loved. I always used to wonder how the cover boards came to be so beautifully rounded, so that there isn’t a single sharp surface and it snuggles in the hand.

The answer isn’t that complicated. It’s sandpaper.

Before the leather can be stuck to the spine it needs thinning in the areas where its thickness would create lumps and bumps. I use an English paring knife on the long edge where the cover paper will overlap. On the head and tail I use a nifty German paring device called a Scharffix.

The leather I use is responsibly-sourced kangaroo skin which comes under the PURE label (processed under rigorous environmental standards). Kangaroo is excellent for bookbinding because it’s strong, lightweight and durable.

When the spine covering is properly aligned, some carefully-positioned knitting needles in the book press help to adhere the leather at the joint.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been successful in my challenge to finish 23 books in 30 days. But I’m not far off, and I hope you’ll continue to follow my progress nevertheless!

Finally, my last—and most nerve-racking—bookbinding step. This is where I glue the outer sheets of the book (the endpapers) to the inside covers. If I get it wrong, all the work I’ve done up to this point is wasted and the book is ruined.

My endpapers took about five months to make. Each design is unique and was created using a technique called ‘paper marbling’. The marbled sheets were then cut, folded and hinged so that they could be sewn into the book, and also form part of the flange that attaches the boards.

It took me many failed attempts to work out how to glue the paste-downs on my Red Books. Every time I stuck them to the inside covers, they formed big ugly crease near the hinge. Eventually I worked out that I need to glue quickly, flatten them down with a piece of sheet metal, and get them in the book press as fast as possible. Gluing paste-downs is always an adrenaline rush!