tedorigawa bookmakers

The Idiot Runs is my latest novel. It's about a Oregon coast man who travels back in time to Venice in the 16th century to work with Nicolas Jenson, printer, binder, and typeface creator of the Roman font.

I  wrote, edited, imposed, printed, sewed, and slapped a case binding on it. There are 160 pages of eight signatures of five sheets each. The book is bound in a tan burlapy book cloth with Japanese-esque endpapers (resembling mompei, discussed in Episode 75 when we were talking about another novel: The Priests of Hiroshima) with brown paper attached to the front.

The book is B6 in size - a handy pocket-sized book if you have slightly larger than normal pockets. And, surprisingly, it went together quite well over a period of a couple of days. Not the writing and editing. That took quite a bit longer. On the first evening, I sewed the signatures up. The next evening, after a leisurely dinner, I glued the spine, mull, and that extra strip of paper to the spine. On the third evening, I cut and pasted the endpapers; cut and pasted the cover and assembled the whole thing together. The third evening took about an hour. I wasn't rushed during the whole process and only made a couple of mistakes but nothing I need to point out here.

By the way, The Idiot Runs is the first book in my Calvado Pentalogy which contains the following books: The Idiot Runs, Calvado, The Priests of Hiroshima, The Venetian Slime Woman, and Tristram's Printer. Certain characters and situations show up in all five novels but not always blatantly obvious. If you're familiar with Lawrence Durrell's Alexandria Quartet you might recognize the structure in The Calvado Pentalogy.

Upon finishing this and putting it on my improvised book press, I looked at my work table and discovered I have seven more projects to finish up. Seven! And where might I find the time to do them all? Heaven knows, eh?

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This last weekend I went to a craft fair where I ate a nice taco-flavored rice dish. I also, not at the craft fair, made a yellow clamshell box for one of my novels (a re-covered Tristram's Printer - first mentioned back in Episode 50). The novel is actually in two parts. Part one is my novel and part two is the first book of Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy. The first book is probably the most read part of Tristram Shandy as it is difficult to get through. Not your average Tom Clancy novel, let me tell you.

Tristram's Printer is about a young woman who learns about papermaking, printing, and bookbinding and falls in Love with a Printer who fantasizes about printing the typographically challenging Tristram Shandy. She is about 25, he is about 50. Characters in Tristram's Printer make an appearance in The Idiot Runs, a time-slipping 2010 Oregon coast to 1462 Venice, Italy bookbinding/printing novel I am currently editing.

This clamshell box (夫婦箱 - me otto bako, in Japanese. Literally: husband-wife box. 夫 is husband while 婦 is wife.) is my first. It is covered in yellow paper instead of book cloth and that was a mistake. It is already tearing at the hinge. My next clamshell box, coming up in a couple of weeks, will be covered in book cloth. The most challenging and worrisome bits are the measuring, cutting, gluing, and putting together the shell. Almost everything about it is worrisome to some extent.

Always in the back of my mind is the possibility that it won't fit together properly. In fact, the first attempt didn't because of a mis-measurement. This, while the first completed clamshell box, was renovated during construction as the first attempt had the two boxes colliding.

Clamshell boxes: they're not for the squeamish.

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This is another lined notebook. B7 in size - pocket-sized and handy, if I do say so myself. With this blog url, my email, name, and the name of 手取川製本 on the cover in an inset. About 112 pages but no pictures. The cover is Japanese style paper and red craft paper which I cut irregularly. Plus, it went over the inset, which isn't something I wanted. However, it is pocket-sized and handy.

What did we learn from this? Again and again, we learn that measuring and planning is important. If I had measured the red spine paper better, it wouldn't have covered the inset. If I had planned the placement of the inset, the red paper wouldn't have covered the inset, either. We live, we learn, we grow. Right?

On the bright side, for the first time since I've started binding books, a member of my family has actually  asked to use one that was already completed (vs a 'special order'.) I had planned to use a certain blank notebook to keep a list of the books I've made. Now it is being used to keep a list of books someone has read. Hey, it's related, eh?

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Here we have accomplished a smallish - B6 sized (7.2 " by 5.3" for my American brethren) - 128-page lined notebook with free advertising. Advertising for me. It has my blog url (this one, obviously), my email (tedorigawa.bookmakers@gmail.com), my name, and my studio name: Tedorigawa Bookmakers (手取川製本). It also has small pictures of books I have made (and are for sale), one picture of myself, and the red Tedorigawa logo - on the right. The other thing it has is an inset on the lower right front cover.

Many years ago I read that a bookbinding teacher insisted that the front of the book be obvious to the casual observer. I try to do that but this inset is my first attempt at really showing the front. I felt it was necessary because the back cover is more decorative than the front. I carved out a bit of the book board (next time: two thinner boards glued together; it'll be much easier) and printed 手取川製本 on a piece of paper. Then I glued it to a scrap of book board, and glued the entire ensemble into the hole in the cover. It's... okay. Next time, I don't think I'll glue it on a scrap of book board but directly onto the second book board.

Getting the cover cloth was an interesting story. I went to a shop that is famous for its paper. People come from hundreds of kilometers around just to look and buy some of their products. I bought some paper and then asked if they had book cloth (布, nuno in Japanese). The female clerk (and part owner) didn't know what I was talking about so she asked the male clerk (and part owner) who handed me a big wad of thick paper. "This?" he said. "Not exactly," I mumbled. And he proceeded to hand me another big stack. "Take it. It's free." So I took it.

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The Priests of Hiroshima: An Historical Love Story is my novel about time travel between an Istanbul antique bookstore today and Mainz, Germany when Gutenberg was in full operation. Istanbul and Mainz, Germany. What do they have to do with Hiroshima?

The Priests of Hiroshima is the name of a novel in the novel The Priests of Hiroshima. In my novel it is a novel printed and signed by Gutenberg. How did the author in 1453 know about the bombing of Hiroshima in 1945? You gotta read The Priests of Hiroshima.

Back in 1945 when Little Boy was dropped on Hiroshima, some priests were in their church. The blast blew most everything away except for some of the strengthened walls of the church. One priest (Father Hubert Schiffer), after the bombing, was bathed from head to foot to clean his wounds. The walls protected him feeling the brunt of the blast while the bathing cleansed him of any radiation. Or it was a miracle. Fr. Schiffer was from Germany, perhaps Mainz?

My The Priests of Hiroshima is about 112 pages, casebound, with Japanese paper as the cover. The design is reminiscent of old-fashioned farmer women's clothes known as mompei. There are seven signatures of four sheets. There is, in Japanese tradition, a strip of washi on the front cover. The title is supposed to be written vertically on this strip of paper but I haven't the calligraphical chops to do it right. It has yellow craft paper as endpapers.

This is the second edition of the book. The first one can be seen here: Episode 60: Red Kanji.

You can read the first 23 chapters here: The Priests of Hiroshima: An Historical Love Story from 1453 to 2007.

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About six years ago a child of mine ran a 5 K race and for finishing within the allotted time, got a t-shirt. She wore this shirt off and on for six years and finally decided to throw it my way. I backed it with thin paper and turned it into book cloth. Then I waited for a project that required such a cloth. And behold, this year, the same child actually asked me to make a diary/calendar/journal for her.

I pounced on the opportunity. The result is a B6 size, case-bound book. It has six signatures of four sheets each for about 96 pages - some blank but most covered in either a monthly schedule or a weekly schedule. Also included in the book: pictures of my daughter's current favorite singer (Selena Gomez) and my daughter. Making this diary/calendar truly one of a kind.

Of course it took me forever to get right. I mapped out the calendar in Excel and did imposition via experimentation. Lots of printing until I finally got the right imposition and alignment for all. Lots of double, triple, and gazillion-ple checking to make sure the days and dates lined up correctly and so far my grateful child has only found two mistakes - not related to dates and days but content within the days. i.e. I missed writing a holiday although I had the day red-ed out as such.

I promised my daughter that she would get her book before the end of February. Thank god it was a leap year this year. I needed that extra 24 hours. I believe the writing on the back says Running Person in Japanese, which makes sense as most marathon runners are people. One other thing: On the front of the book it says "Kanazawa Marathon 2006." Hmmm. A schedule book for 2012 that says 2006. Odd, eh?

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A friend is writing an online novel called Teach Yourself Japanese: The Eddie Trombone Case. Or it might be completely true. True or false, fact or fiction, I was looking for content to practice imposition, binding, casing in, and the other particulars of bookbinding. Viola, a marriage made online.

I copied his online scribblings, did a little desktop publishing magic, imposed it, printed it out (which took close to a half-century to finish - Gutenberg had it easy), and did a link stitch before casing it in with a sort of ersatz Chinese motif cover.

• About the Book Part One There are six signatures of four sheets each for 96 pages. It is B6 in size and I really messed up the first time I cased it in. I forgot to push the text block up tight against the spine and it came out loose and messy. After I tossed it across the studio and shoved it in the recycle bin, I relaxed. Then I tore it apart and re-bound it. It came out better when I was relaxed.

• About "the Book" Part Two What, you might ask, is the story about? An American in Japan by the name of Eddie Trombone is missing. A consulate officer at the Osaka consulate, Gerard K. Dirkins, is charged with finding him. His efforts lead him to a book Eddie took out of the Chicago library called "Teach Yourself Japanese" and a diary kept by Mr. Trombone. From Eddie's diary, we follow his life from Chicago to Osaka and witness the many frustrations as Dirkins tries to understand Eddie's frustrating "new" and exciting (?) life in Japan. Will he ever find Eddie? Is Eddie still alive? More importantly, will "Teach Yourself Japanese" ever be returned to the Chicago public library?

This book, which I have made in an edition of three (two to the author, one for me), is titled "Teach Yourself Japanese: the Eddie Trombone Case, Part 1" because the online novel is not, as far as I know, finished yet. Plus, I am currently working on "Teach Yourself Japanese: the Eddie Trombone Case, Part 2."

Second, you might ask, is why is the green part of the book so big? Well, when I tossed it across the room? I kind of ripped part of the cover which was mostly the fake Chinese red part. And, I, uh, kind of had to cover up the tears. Maybe this will be the copy I keep for myself. In retrospect, rather than a hard cover, I think I should have made it a softcover because it is only 96 pages. Kind of thin, but when Part 2 comes out, I might try a dos a dos.

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What we have here is a recycled book cover. It began life as a bento box: a box with food in it that is ubiquitous in Japan. You can find them virtually everywhere. I ripped mine apart (after eating the tiny bits of meat, chicken, salmon, vegetables, and massive amount of rice that comes with it), made sure it was clean, then turned it into a book cover. I liked the design that flows from the back to the front - a sort of Japanesey pattern - and the front has a nice strong diagonal under kanji. Everyone who has lived in Japan longer than a month laughed when they saw this book because they all know it is the lid from a bento box.

I used the Yamato Toji binding - butterfly by Smith - and B5 size paper so the book is about B6. And blank. I sewed the text block together, then glued down the first and last pages as endpapers. The inside is, therefore, all white paper - like rice? If I had thought ahead a little bit, I would have used a more thematic paper for the endpapers.

The kanji is maku-no-uchi (幕の内) which is two things: the highest ranking in sumo and a type of bento. I'm going with the type of bento here since it's a pretty slim book. It's 160 pages (10 signatures of four sheets each) and, surprisingly, didn't take too long to make. The Yamato Toji is a pretty quick little binding and gluing on the endpapers wasn't time consuming either.

And now for something really completely different: The B-52's Private Idaho from YouTube. For your entertainment pleasure only. Please don't try this at home.

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Here we have three small books using two different Japanese bindings. Today, I'll talk about the one on the far left - First Hemp. I used the Hemp Leaf Binding (Asa No Ha Toji -  麻の葉綴じ) which I think is pretty but it still doesn't allow the book to open widely. This is my first attempt. Perhaps below you can see a close up of the binding. The picture might be too small, however.

First Hemp has 52 pages - 26 single sheets. It is a blank notebook and for the cover I used my first attempt at suminagashi, which I'll tell you about in a second. The hemp leaf binding is fun and quick to do once you remember the order. According to Keith Smith, there are about 18 different places for the thread to go. Each hole gets the thread multiple times with the first hole getting threaded about five times. Bulky, eh?

Last night I made another hemp leaf binding book - a book with content which I will show you in a future post - and was surprised how quickly it went. I think I finished in less than fifteen minutes. The book still doesn't open as widely as I like but I think the binding is pretty pretty. I mean, awfully pretty. Or, maybe, awfully delightful.

Now, about suminagashi. Sumi (墨) is ink and nagashi (流し) is flow or flowing. So suminagashi is Japanese-style marbling which uses ink, a solvent like soap or oil, a couple of brushes, water, and paper. Here is a video of a master of the art. He's been doing this about half a century and happens to live nearby. Here's another video of a more homey variety of artist. Both are in Japanese but you don't really need the audio.

You drip the ink and solvent into the water in alternative drops. The two don't mix so you get concentric circles. When you have enough ink on the water (it shouldn't sink), you can blow on it or fan it with a fan. This eventually results in a pattern you like. Place the paper on top, pull the paper off, wash off the excess ink, and set to dry. The end result is random with a little bit of control. Another end result is a pile of paper you can use as endpapers, text block papers, or covers.

I, obviously, also used suminagashi paper for the cover of the small book nestled in front of the cactus. This paper was my - literally - first attempt at suminagashi. More about this book and the yellow book in a future post.

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For Christmas past I got a copy of Keith Smith's Volume III Exposed Bindings and a serious cold. In said book is a Yamato Toji (大和綴じ - Japanese binding) binding which Smith calls, I believe, a Butterfly binding.

Now, I'm not much of a fan of Japanese stab bindings (especially Yotsume Toji - 四つ目綴じ - four-hole binding) because of the way they inhibit the opening of a book. Some people put a hinge on the spine to ease the opening but that just means they've found a workaround for the binding. The best way to use a 四つ目綴じ binding is to use thin paper and a thin cover. Many 四つ目綴じ books are Buddhist prayer books and they have extremely thin paper.

But the 大和綴じ (Yamato Toji) is different. It is elegant, smooth, a four-needle job, and looks like a Coptic binding's little brother. Using the four needles (for four holes, six needles for six holes) you climb up from the bottom to the top while crisscrossing between pairs of holes. It is quick, elegant, and the book opens wide; especially important if you're binding a sketch book.

The picture above is of Asa No Ha Toji (麻の葉綴じ - Hemp Binding)  - from Billie's Craft Room - which I feel is more beautiful than the straight Four-Hole Binding (Yotsume Toji - 四つ目綴じ) but still doesn't allow the book to open flat - at least not as flat as either the Yamato Toji or a Coptic binding.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because first, I made two 大和綴じ (Yamato Toji) books while recovering from my bad cold and second, I have the content for a 麻の葉綴じ (Asa No Ha Toji) binding coming up soon. Photos of the two 大和綴じ books will be coming soon. As soon as the 麻の葉綴じ is finished, photos of it will be up, too.

Just a word on the words. Four is Yotsu (四つ); technically,  四つ目 means 'the fourth' or something similar. Yamato (大和) is an older word for Japan. Asa no ha (麻の葉) means hemp leaf. Toji (綴じ) is binding. Therefore, 大和綴じ is, I suspect, Japanese binding, 四つ目綴じ is Fourth Binding while 麻の葉綴じ is Hemp Leaf Binding.

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