In my last post, I described my search for an edition of the Latin text of Augustine of Hippo’s De civitate Dei to give to my good friend and parish priest.

In the dark days of the Covid-19 lockdowns, when other people were learning to bake break, I learned how to bind books. (For anyone interested in learning, I particularly recommend the YouTube channel DAS Bookbinding, where an Australian bookbinder named Darryn Schneider publishes incredibly generous instructional videos on a huge range of binding techniques. For tools and materials, I can recommend my local Canadian supplier, George Hill & Co.)

So, I decided to make for my friend a copy of the deluxe 1924 edition of De civitate Dei of which I gave some photos in my last post. I downloaded the high-resolution scan from the University of Heidelberg, converted it to black and white text, scaled it for printing on a standard 8.5″x11″ page, and ran it through BookletCreator to generate the layout for printing 17″x11″ sheets to fold into 16-page gatherings for sewing. I printed this on Xerox Bold Digital 24 lb. Ledger paper, in which, which is crucial for bookbinding, the paper grain runs parallel to the short end.

I decided to attempt the eighteenth-century “flexible style” of binding, in which the gatherings are sewn onto thick hemp cords. Here is how the structure is illustrated in Arthur W. Johnson’s Manual of Bookbinding:

Once I had folded all the gatherings with the aid of a bone folder, I marked the text block for the sewing stations where the linen thread would pass through the paper and loop around the hemp cords. I then used a hacksaw to sew channels at these points just deep enough to penetrate the innermost sheet of each gathering.

I didn’t have any “nice” paper large enough to fold into endpapers, so I selected some beautiful handmade linen sheets that a friend picked up for me on a visit to Prague and attached them with a joint of unbleached linen cloth.

I then measured a series of holes spaced 3mm apart along the edges of the folds of the first and last gatherings. This allowed me to reinforce these points with “overcast” sewing.

I then set up my (very) home-made sewing frame with the hemp cords at the required spacings.

After that, it was a matter of sewing the (many!) sections onto the cords. Johnson observes that this sewing method is “difficult, almost laborious.” That was certainly my experience. It took many hours of the afternoon of Christmas Day, when the rest of the family was in a turkey coma.

At this point, I would ideally have trimmed the uneven edges of the text block with a heavy lying press and plough. At this stage in my bookbinding career, however, I didn’t have either of those things. (And as will be evident from the photo below, I didn’t yet have a proper backing hammer either.) I moved on to rounding the spine, which is done by spreading a layer of PVA glue and pulling and, if necessary, hammering the spine into a dome shape.

The next step was “backing,” which involves squeezing the spine between angled boards with metal plates and hammering the spine into a mushroom shape. This leaves room for the cover boards to tuck in under the “shoulders” of the spine. This procedure should also be done with a lying press, but I had to accomplish the same result with vise grips.

At last it was time to think about covers for the book. To get an appropriate thickness for so large a book, I thickened some standard 3mm binder’s board by glueing and pressing on a 1mm layer of strawboard, which I then covered with a layer of white paper to ensure a smooth surface under the eventual leather covers.

In the “flexible style,” the cover boards are pierced with two holes for each of the hemp cords, offset at a 45-degree angle. The loose ends of the hemp cords are rubbed with the dull back edge of a knife until the threads unwind into “slips” that look like little pony tails. Each slip is rubbed with starch paste and twirled into a point that can be inserted into the first hole in the cover and then back out the second hole. Once the cover has been tighened snug to the shoulder of the spine, the ends of the slips are spread out and hammered into the boards, a bit like steel rivets.

At this point, what began as a stack of paper is starting to look an awful lot like a book!

The “flexible style” gets its name from how the cover material is stuck directly to the spine and bends into a concave “U” shape when the book is opened. To sustain that kind of tension and strain, the spine has to be covered with several layers of glued-on material: (1) a strong mesh called “mull”; (2) strips of heavy “kraft paper” between the raised hemp cords; and (3) a strip of leather that is moulded tightly around the raised cords and then rubbed with sandpaper so that it’s flexible, smooth, and ready to receive the outer covering material.

Spine covering layer 1: mull.

At this point, another layer of paper is pasted onto the outside of the cover boards and then sanded down aggressively to level out any “bumps” where the hemp cord slips have been hammered into the boards. The edges are then bevelled with a sharp knife and the corners closest to the spine are “back cornered” to allow room for the leather hinge to bend when the book is opened.

It’s almost time to cover the book with leather. (I actually just use castoffs and sample hides that I pick up cheap at a local fabric outlet store. It would probably be easier to work with “real” book leather from a specialist supplier.)

The leather has to be made thinner along the line of the spine hinges and where it will be “turned in” from the outside to the inside of the cover boards. I didn’t yet have a proper leather paring knife or spokeshave, so I used a razor-blade scraping tool.

When it’s finally time to cover a book with cloth or leather, it all has to be done quite quickly and there’s no good moment to take a picture! Leather is a bit more forgiving: you sponge the outer side with water so that when the inner side is brushed with starch paste it won’t dry out too quickly. Everything gets folded over and carefully smoothed out. At the head and tail of the spine, the leather is folded over a length of cord and shaped with a bone folder to created a “headcap.” Then, the book is held between “tying up boards,” and strings are run along each edge of the raised hemp cords so that the leather doesn’t pull away from the surface as it dries.

Leather stretches when it’s pasted, so the edges of the turn-ins on the insides of the covers will be uneven and need to be trimmed square. The edges of the leather have been pared, but to make sure that there isn’t a pronounced ridge under the endpapers, a layer of card is cut to meet the leather edges and pasted to the board. The book is left to dry under a weight.

Finally, the endpapers are pasted down to the boards. Together with the under-layer of card, the endleaves will dry as they contract, counteracting the opposite pull of the drying leather, which wants to warp the coverboards outwards. Once the endpapers have been pressed smooth to the boards, the covers are held open to dry.

At last, the book was made! I’m always a bit shocked when my books come out looking like actual books.

All that remained was to to compose a Latin gift inscription bookplate and to add a spine label. For the latter, I used portions of the lettering on the title page to create abbreviations for the author and title and inked the letters with a fibre-tipped permanent pigment pen.

My friend liked the book very much. (Or he at least did a good job of pretending he liked it.)

I’ve made progress in my skills since then, and there are several things in this particular book that I’d love to be able to “do over.” But that’s actually part of the fun. Each book I make or repair gives me a chance to try something new or get something right.