And, of course, last but never least — I couldn’t forget — thanks are due to you, you vile, luminescent animal, sitting there with this book in your gnarled and sculpted hands.
A NOTE ON THE TYPE
This work has been set in Berdych, a typeface named after Antun Berdych, who was a prominent typesetter and printer in the first half of the seventeenth century. The typeface was originally designed as a stunted, incongruous font, with the kerning between the glyphs inconsistent and the vowels improperly rounded. The typeface was given its name by rival typesetter Milos Heyduk on the occasion of Berdych’s death in April of 1657. Heyduk designed the typeface to cause strain in the eyes while reading and to impart a lingering ocular discomfort throughout the day.
Heyduk and Berdych were neighbors as children, both born into long lines of carriage makers in the southern Czech town of Pisek. Local legend says both boys pined after little Rayna Richta, the last daughter of lingering Hussite nobility. As children, they played the usual games of rocks and sticks in the dusty streets together. Berdych always knocked the rock farthest and broke the stick quickest, while the clumsier and more portly Heyduk would trip and fall into the dusty street. “Come Milos,” Antun would say, “You’re rolling in the dirt like a filthy piglet.” Little Rayna would giggle with glee.
It was expected that both boys would follow in their wood-shaping fathers’ footsteps, but young Antun and Milos became embroiled in the typesetting heyday of the early 1600s. Both decided to leave Pisek to seek their fortunes: Berdych to Paris, Heyduk to Antwerp, Cologne, and then Berlin. Both men found some degree of success, but it was Berdych’s early seventeenth-century print series of French erotica commissioned by the Duke of Lorraine that propelled him to instant stardom in the close-knit world of typesetting. Berdych rode his success by designing a startling series of elegant yet salacious typefaces — the glyphs allegedly fashioned after the curves of his various mistresses — that caused disquiet and scandal among high society.
For his part, Heyduk developed a line of competent, stout typefaces that found an acceptable following among German accountants. After two decades in Berlin, Heyduk returned to Pisek with his modest savings and attempted to kindle a romance with Rayna Richta, whose first husband had died at the infamous Battle of White Mountain in the early days of the Thirty Years’ War. Heyduk set up his shop on a lonely street in the south side of Pisek and slowly wooed the widow Rayna for many years, until — when her savings had run dry and her looks had faded in the mirror — she consented to marry again. The Heyduks’ marriage progressed satisfactorily for a decade until 1642, when Antun Berdych, beginning to tire of the overwhelming life of Parisian high society, returned to Pisek and set up his famed Golden Drips printing shop.
The homecoming of the handsome and now famous typesetter, complete with his by all accounts beautiful Parisian bride, Stephanie née Verdurin, caused something of a stir in Pisek. The couple arrived by way of the rivers Vltava and Otava on a royal barge on loan from the King of Bohemia and Holy Roman Emperor himself, Ferdinand III. The citizens were overjoyed to have their most famous son returned. Town records indicate the homecoming celebration lasted for sixty-eight hours and involved the accidental deaths of at least two townspeople.
Milos Heyduk watched with barely contained venom as Berdych’s Golden Drips shop was erected across the street from his own modest shop. Every day, Heyduk glared at the stream of prominent clients from Prague and Vienna approaching Berdych’s shop while his own stayed dim and empty. At night he watched Berdych strolling past his office window with his beautiful wife, whose features so contrasted with the withered faces of Rayna and himself. Over the years, these images turned Heyduk into a foul and bitter man. He would toss rocks at dogs, taunt children that approached his shop, and fight with his wife so loudly the neighbors were kept up long into the night.
For either revenge or refuge, Rayna began an affair. When Heyduk learned of the cuckoldry, he smothered her to death in their bed with the straw-filled sack that served as their pillow. The police found him the next day, sleeping soundly with Rayna’s body knocked onto the floor. Although it is commonly believed that it was Antun Berdych who seduced Rayna and coaxed her into having the affair that led to the grisly nighttime murder, this is apocryphal. In truth, the Berdych that Rayna conducted an affair with was a local cobbler of no relation.
Heyduk was incarcerated for several decades. During this time, Antun Berdych developed the incurable case of consumption from which he eventually perished. Upon the news of his rival’s death, Heyduk quickly began designing the Berdych typeface on smuggled paper in the corner of his prison cell. Upon his release, Heyduk employed the unpleasant typeface almost exclusively. He printed it on newsletters and flyers that he tacked on every wooden door in Pisek. The typeface soon became famous for its sordid origin and its attachment to the celebrated Berdych. In a diary entry near the date of his death, Heyduk remarks, “Although I will soon be snatched away by my maker, I comfort myself with the knowledge that Antun, that horse’s ass, will be forever linked with discomfort and ugliness.”
Over the centuries, various typesetters have fixed the irregularities in the Berdych typeface and reshaped many of the serifs to come into line with Berdych’s own manuscripts. Today it is widely regarded as one of the most royal and elegant typefaces and enjoys a dedicated following in scholarly circles. Heyduk’s original designs are said to still be held in the basement of the Pisek Public Library. The visiting hours are 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. on weekdays.
ALLAN KORNBLUM, 1949–2014
Vision is about looking at the world and seeing not what it is, but what it could be. Allan Kornblum’s vision and leadership created Coffee House Press. To celebrate his legacy, every book we publish in 2015 will be in his memory.
The text of Upright Beasts is set in Weiss. Composition by Bookmobile Design & Digital Publisher Services, Minneapolis, Minnesota.
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FUNDER ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Coffee House Press is an independent, nonprofit literary publisher. All of our books, including the one in your hands, are made possible through the generous support of grants and donations from corporate giving programs, state and federal support, family foundations, and the many individuals that believe in the transformational power of literature.
We receive major operating support from Amazon, the Bush Foundation, the McKnight Foundation, Target, and the National Endowment for the Arts. To find out more about how NEA grants impact individuals and communities, visit www.arts.gov. In addition, this activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a Minnesota State Arts Board Operating Support grant, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund. Special project support for this title was received from the Jerome Foundation.