Meggs' history of graphic design (fifth edition). Philip B. Meggs & Alston W. Purvis. 2012 revised (1998 original).
This is a 600-page book, with several thousand individually captioned images (I ran out of library renewals and had to rush, so didn't end up getting many pictures of them). Imagine a heavy encyclopedia crammed full of all kinds of visual design from history.
Structure
There are so many overlapping movements, eras, styles, schools, and flourishings of (what would come to be called) graphic design. Meggs & Purvis choose to divide history into chunks, and their book into corresponding parts. Each part has a few chapters, each separately covering concurrent developments in different movements or countries.
Each section opens with a summary of the chapters it contains, in the form of a timeline. Useful for a reference book, although I only glanced at them in reading this book cover to cover.
Production quality
Let's get a few issues out of the way first because there's a lot of good to say about Meggs' history! This was the longest and densest book I've read in a long time. It is expertly written and edited. The rate of textual errors per word is hundreds of times better than in some books I've read recently. I saw just thirty typos over the course of the entire work.
(Page 12, a full stop for a comma creates sentence fragments. Page 135, accidental line break. Page 136, 'either' in the wrong spot. Pages 224, 398, 482, and 553, "wich" for "which". Page 271, "has been" for "have been". Page 287, 'Figs' for 'Fig'. Page 290, unclosed parentheses. Page 350, redundant "also". Page 357, accidental sentence break. Page 389, "COBAL" for "COBOL". Page 417, "if" for "of". Page 479, "te" for "the". Pages 538 and 539, "florescent" for "fluorescent". Page 554, repeats the figure from the epilogue. Page 556, misapplied boldface.)
Curiously, 13 of these 30 errors occur in Chapter 23 specifically, giving the impression that the whole chapter missed the copyediting step:
Page 485, calls Japan "an island". Page 489, figure 23-16 is captioned as 22-16. Page 506, figures 23-77, -78, and -79 are called 24-77, -78, and -79. Page 508, "potography" for "photography". Pages 513 and 517, missing subheadings. Page 517, figures 23-113 and 23-114 are called 24-113 and 24-114. Page 521, misplaced comma. Page 529, "than that" for "to that".
I took issue with the block quotes, which are indented very similarly to the paragraph indent, use the same font, have no extra vertical space, and indent the following paragraph normally. Altogether this makes them hard to distinguish from the text. Fortunately the book only uses block quotes a few times.
Meggs' history usually prefers its figures to appear after they are discussed in the text. I dislike this because you can't properly understand text that is discussing an image you haven't seen yet.
Sometimes the figures appear in a different order to their textual references, e.g., 5-10 through 5-15, so it's puzzling that some full-page examples weren't just moved and renumbered to appear on the facing page to the textual reference.
I know from experience that laying out figures is extremely difficult. I wouldn't have mentioned the ordering, but it's made so much more of a hassle by the fact that...
The book has broken gutters!
One severe shortcoming made Meggs' history really hard to read.
At 600 pages, the hardback is so thick and heavy that when you open it on a table (unless you open it at the middle) the lighter side is lifted into the air. This makes ~30 mm of the page curve into the inner margin or "gutter". But the text columns continue to a margin of ~10 mm!
This is a huge obstacle to comfortable reading. On every line, at least one word disappears entirely into the gutter, and a couple more are distorted! It's even worse at the start and end of the book, where the curve of the pages is so pronounced that they obscure part of the opposite page!
I had to read this enormous book with two workarounds:
- I can hold the thicker side of the book up vertically, putting my head down sideways to read those pages then sitting up to read pages on the lighter side normally.
- I can press down really hard on a page on the lighter side while trying to read it (the book is so heavy that this requires both hands or the full weight of my arm).
This is completely stupid to begin with, and then the text constantly asks you to refer to a figure on a different page!
This issue affects all but the middle ~150 pages, i.e., this book cannot be read by opening it flat in front of you. The first note I made for this review called this a 'hassle'; now that I'm writing it up I'll upgrade that to 'accessibility nightmare'. It's frankly unacceptable and I can't understand how it happened.
Chock-full of content
Part of the allure of books like this are the graphic design examples. You could delight in it as a picture book, completely devoid of context. For example, there are some striking pieces by A. M. Cassandre (you can see more of his work catalogued here: https://www.moma.org/artists/1015-a-m-cassandre#works):
But of course the book is meant to be about the historical discussion, which is very engaging (sometimes enrapturing) and comprehensive. The history of paper and printing in the first few chapters helped tie together a lot of areas in which I had vaguely known a handful of facts. Meggs' history traces the development of the written word from antiquity of Christian manuscripts, the throughline of Chinese printing to the Italian Renaissance, Celtic influences on Charlemagne's manuscript reforms (through English scholar Alcuin of York), and so on.
Here's an eye-opening fact. As of 1450, there were an estimated 50,000 volumes in European monasteries and libraries in total. In the next 50 years, with the advent of printing, nine million more books (35,000 editions alone) would be created. And that doesn't include printed ephemera (tracts, pamphlets, and broadsides), of which there were a lot. That's what a difference even early printing made in cost and production speed.
Meggs & Purvis give a concise explanation of the Industrial Revolution, discussing how it indirectly led to an explosion of typography and invention of 3D, decorated, and reversed fonts by typefounders in the early 1800s. The return to wood type for large display-sized printing (which metal was ill-suited to) was enabled by the invention of a new router in 1827 for producing the type.
A few interesting specifics:
- Some very familiar names popping up in discussing the people behind the typefaces: Bodoni, Baskerville, Playfair, Garamond, Caslon, Goudy...
- I felt a certain kindred spirit in the authors' dissatisfaction with the numerous mistakes in the Book of Kells (~800 CE) juxtaposed to the "visual delight" of its "noble design" and "beautiful, carefully lettered half-uncials" (page 50).
- The word "stereotype" originally comes from a printing plate production technique.
- The first sans-serif font was by William Caslon IV, 1816, and called "two lines English Egyptian". These typefaces started spreading a decade later – but what to call them? Caslon used 'Doric' (presumably because a Doric column lacks the base and flourishes of an Ionic or Corinthian). Thorowgood said 'grotesque'. Blake and Stephenson, 'sans-surryphs'. The Boston Type and Stereotype Foundry, 'Gothics'. Vincent Figgins used 'sans serif' in 1832 and it stuck.
I especially enjoyed the chapter on the Art Nouveau movement and its various consequences for the West. I hadn't known about its roots in the ukiyo-e tradition ("pictures of the floating world") of Japan's Tokugawa period.
Art Nouveau disappeared in the ashes of WWI. Those numerous chapters on the early to mid 1900s were grim reading at times, even as all the different art and design movements of the era blossomed.
But history will remember Lucian Bernhard's adorable trademark and poster made for Hommel Micrometers (1912):
Also I don't care for the futurists, but check out this iconic book bound not with thread but enormous bolts. Fortunato Depero's Depero futurista, 1927:
Tricky history
I was a little bit concerned by some mild whitewashing of history, or at least oversimplification of the kind that feels like a repackaging of high school history. It shows up regarding Charlemagne and the 'feudal system', and the intersection of Christianity with the Celts, areas where I've read a little bit from modern historians; I wouldn't be surprised if there's a lot more I didn't notice.
Also, Cadmus of Miletus may have brought the Phoenician alphabet to Greece, and possibly also killed a dragon then planted its teeth to grow an army, sure. The authors' hypothesis that "the power of Cadmus to raise armies from nowhere could have been due to his command of the alphabet" as "[t]roop movements, scouting reports, and orders from the field could be delivered by writing" (page 25) seems completely speculative for this quasi-historical figure.
There's a weird moment on page 434 where Meggs says "the memory of" a historic atrocity "was redeemed by the modern graphic design, architecture, and of course the fraternity of sports presented in the Olympic Games in Beijing". I hope this line is some kind of bizarre typo or fumbling for a word other than 'redeemed' because yeesh.
These are just the flies in the 600-page ointment, of course. Over all, the whole book appears to be extremely well-researched.
Modernity
I'm just barely old enough that I briefly had my hands on an electric typewriter when I was a kid, courtesy of my grandmother, although even then it was really only a curiosity. So I was tickled to see this:
 |
| Hanging punctuation (and hanging T crossbar) in an old IBM advertisement. The letters are tightly-tracked; is that an underscore or a really tightly-tracked ellipsis? |
Meggs' history has some neat examples of electronically created collages from the 1980s as the predecessors of the digital graphic design revolution.
Chapter 22 covers postmodernism and the retro. It was neat, in a slightly recursive way, to dissect how designers started deeply examining the history of their art and calling back to famous bits of graphic design. I was tickled to see the book reproduce some of their works and then casually instruct the reader to turn back hundred of pages to see the sources they were inspired by. For some reason this feels fun even in a world of hypertext.
The fifth edition of the book adds a few chapters to take us all the way up to the early 2000s. By this stage I was burning the midnight oil to finish it, so I have few notes, but I enjoyed seeing the transition into the digital world, and a new explosion of graphic design possibilities and affordances on par with either Gutenberg or the Industrial Revolution.
(Also shout out in passing to Exocet, the instantly-recognisable Diablo font.)
In summary
I can't easily compare this to the other books on graphic design that I've read in 2026. Most of those have been modern and highly accessible instructional texts, not reference books. I will say, though, that it's refreshing to read a design book without constant textual mistakes.
Compared to the books on specific 20th Century areas of design, Meggs' history is obviously less able to get into all the fine details for a particular creator or movement so systematically, trading breadth for depth. But it still goes into detail for particular case studies, and is very professionally produced.
Meggs' history delivers stellar content but is a damn trial to deal with as a physical object. If I ever come into money, I will buy a copy of this book and have it cut up and expertly rebound in multiple volumes.
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