Like fashion trends, fads in book covers come and go. One year, the backs of women’s heads might be all the rage; the next, soft focus photography. And who can forget the exploding flower craze? Or the proliferation of flames on jackets, from thrillers to science fiction to self-help?
But the look that’s commanding today’s runways — a.k.a. bookshelves — is not so incendiary. It tends to lay blaringly bright type in a sans-serif font atop a painting, usually a few centuries old but not always. Facial expressions are baleful or dyspeptic; an aggressive burst of spray paint can change the tone entirely.
These covers are the new signifiers of stylish literary fiction, telegraphing gravitas, wit and cool. They make a bid for a certain kind of reader — more city than suburb, more pét-nat than chardonnay. They wouldn’t be caught dead alongside a volume decked out in pop art or, god forbid, metallic lettering.
Thomas Haggerty, a senior account manager at Bridgeman Images, which licenses paintings for commercial projects, credits the trend to “the power of juxtaposition.” Gregg Kulick, executive art director at Hachette Book Group, agrees: “Poppy type” reads as fun, he says, while the paintings “hint at the academic.”
So how did this ripped-from-the galleries craze get off the ground? After all, paintings have graced the covers of novels since “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” but it appears that “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” (2019) might be the trailblazer for this century’s spate.
Here’s the story behind that one, plus eight descendants out — or soon to be — this year.