Bible Design and Binding

Cambridge Pitt Minion NKJV in Black Goatskin

This is going to break some hearts. Six or seven years ago, my friend Darrel Schiel, who was then the intrepid manager at the now-defunct Grapevine Books, made a habit of buying seconds from Baker, which he sold to customers at a discount. As you know, Baker distributes Cambridge Bibles in the United States, so it was no surprise when a bundle of French Morocco-bound KJV Pitt Minions arrived. They were seconds, too, though I could never quite figure out why, covered in shrink-wrap and offered for about $20 each. The color selection was impressive: black and burgundy, naturally, but also green and blue. I stocked up and used them as giveaways.

Above: The Cambridge Pitt Minion NKJV in Black Goatskin.

When Cambridge re-introduced the Pitt Minion KJV, I was already familiar with the format. During my search for quality-bound Bibles, I'd discovered the Trinitarian Bible Society, which offered an older edition of the Pitt Minion in black calfskin with two ribbons and art-gilt edges. I actually bought mine during a visit to Dublin, then tracked the TBS down online when I got home and ordered some more of their editions. I was impressed. The Pitt Minion is essentially a small thinline reference Bible, poised right at the cusp of hand-sized and tiny, with relatively readable type for its size.

THE COMPACT CHALLENGE
If you've been reading these short essays for long, you know I have an affinity for small Bibles. I don't want to exaggerate -- I use and recommend pretty much every format, and since we have the luxury of a variety of editions (a rare thing, historically and geographically), I suppose we might as well suit the size to the task -- but when I think of the quintessential Bible, the one-size-does-all Platonic ideal, it tends to have a small footprint. Why? Because I like the idea of a Bible you can carry around easily, handy and discreet. The editions I use most tend to be the compact ones.

And therein lies the challenge. Because I'm also one of those people who prefers a Bible (any book, really) to be flexible, even liquid in the hand. Not everyone is. I know some of you like the structure offered by a moderately stiff cover, and as long as it opens flat I can relate. But again, my ideal is limp, and that's not such a common characteristic of small Bibles. (For that matter, neither is opening flat.)

R. L. Allan's Oxford Long Primer in Highland Goatskin

"Maybe you should try the Long Primer." I'd given that advice a thousand times to people who e-mailed looking for a nice, readable edition of the KJV in a quality binding. I said maybe because I'd never seen one myself. Based on what I knew of R. L. Allan's, I assumed the Long Primer was good. Nicholas Gray, who presides over the Glasgow-based temple of goodness, confided that the Long Primer was his favorite setting of the KJV, and other Bible Design Blog readers said the same thing. So when the box arrived from Scotland including, among other things, a copy of Item #53 -- "Allan's Oxford Reference Bible, Long Primer with Chain References, Goatskin Leather, Cyclopedic Concordance" -- I was anxious to see if the recommendation I'd been making was any good.

Not that I was worried.

Above: The supple Long Primer cover inspired some new Bible yoga positions. Here, the cover is curled into the gutter between the pages, showing off the goatskin's flexibility and grain, and providing a glimpse of the elegant typography within.

The official description has this to say: "Highland goatskin with overlapping (full yapp) covers, leather lined inside in dark blue, with dictionary of proper names, subject index and concordance." The list price is £90, which works out to $177 in today's US dollars. That's expensive, but then, this is a once-in-a-lifetime purchase for all but the inveterate collectors. And I have to say, the Long Primer has that once-in-a-lifetime feel.

R. L. Allan's Oxford Brevier Clarendon Reference Edition

Earlier this year, I reviewed the R. L. Allan's edition of the Oxford Brevier Blackface KJV, concluding that the cover is magnificent and the blackface interior is one of those love-it-or-hate-it propositions, a little too dark for my taste. So it was only natural that I'd take an interest in the less emphatic Brevier Clarendon. Reviewing the list of editions at Bibles-Direct.com, I noticed that the Brevier Clarendon was available in a "brown, buffalo grain calfskin, leather lined in tan." Given my predilection for brown these days, I figured that was perfect.

Above: The Brevier Clarendon in Brown Calfskin (Allan 6C) on top, compared to the Brevier Blackface in Black Highland Goatskin (Allan 20).

According to the measurements given on the site, the Blackface is slightly thinner and taller than the Clarendon, but when I stack them next to each other, the proportions look pretty much identical. Inside, the Clarendon offers a couple of advantages. In addition to the type not being quite so black (though it's by no means light), the self-pronouncing feature -- which in the Blackface goes so far as to break the name "Jesus" into two accented syllables every time it appears -- is absent, and brief chapter summaries are added. The cyclopedic concordance, which does double duty (as the name suggests) as both concordance and succinct encyclopedia, is present in both. The pagination is the same, so I assume they're identical.

Compact Thinline ESV from LeatherBibles.com

According to the ESV site, the new Deluxe Compact edition will be available tomorrow. My Amazon pre-order says it will ship Friday. I mentioned this edition back in February when it was announced, mainly because it will feature a sewn binding, making it a great candidate for rebinding. Given my affection for "itsy bitsy Bibles," it's no surprise that I plan to get a lot of use out of this one. In honor of its coming, though, I thought I might share some photos of the edition I've been using in the meantime.

You've seen photos of it here and there, but I don't think I've ever written about this compact ESV at much length. It's an edition that used to be offered by LeatherBibles.com, a compact thinline ESV rebound in supple tan calfskin. (Based on all the talk recently about Abba Bibles, I suspect that's who's responsible for the excellent cover.) This little Bible is truly a thing of beauty -- the graceful semi-yapp edges, the soft leather, two ribbons. Until you open it up, that is. You see, this edition breaks Rebinding Rule #1: "Start with a sewn binding." Because the compact thinlines are, of course, glued.

The ESV on an Apple iPhone

At the risk of alienating the Luddites in the audience, I've decided to post the answer to a question I often receive, which usually goes something like this: "Mark, with all the cool Bibles reviewed on your site, which one do you actually use the most?" Even though I'm situated in an Aladdin's cave of goatskin, calf, and india paper, the Bible I use most often these days is bound in aluminum and glass. And it's not really a Bible at all. It's a phone. An Apple iPhone, to be precise.

Above: the iPhone "open" to Psalm 1 in the English Standard Version.

If this comes as a surprise, believe me no one is as surprised as I am. When the iPhone came out last summer, I prided myself on not being one of the sheeple who stood in line. (My pride was based on a mere technicality: my father and brother, even greater technophiles than me, stood in line and bought one for me.) After plunging a lot of money into the black hole that was the Pocket PC circa 1999, I had pretty much given up on "convergence," the dream of a single device to rule them all. My judgment was confirmed after I inherited a Motorola SLVR (giving up my perfectly good pre-Sony Ericsson T28) with the idea that it would combine the functions of phone and iPod. It did, but not very well, and I decided the future was still in the, well, future.

Now I'm a believer. The future started last July, but not everyone realizes it yet.

But this isn't about the iPhone. It's about the Bible on the iPhone. At first, I didn't take advantage of the possibilities. I had a bookmark to the ESV Online in my Safari browser, but more often than not I'd forget it was there. Then the ESV Blog posted some (for me) historic news: how to "Add the ESV to your iPhone Home Screen." Specifically, you can create an icon for any of the ESV's many online reading plans and have it display right on the home screen, giving you one-click access to the day's reading. I followed the instructions and that did the trick. Hardly a day goes by now when I don't take advantage of it.

Above: The icon in the lower right-hand corner brings up the Daily Reading Bible selection in a Safari window.

R. L. Allan's Cross Reference with Concordance (NIV)

Where Bibles are concerned, my tastes are pretty simple. I prefer small to large, thick to thin, single to double, and stitches to glue. I like my fonts traditional and readable, would rather have three ribbons than one, and never saw a problem that couldn't be solved by the liberal application of goatskin. So when an edition comes along that violates just about all of my principles, and I still find myself liking it -- even loving it -- then it's worth taking a moment to ask myself why.

The Bible in question is the Cross Reference NIV with Concordance from R. L. Allan's. And if I had to sum up the appeal in just two words, they'd be: brown and grain.

Above: The Allan's Cross Reference NIV with Concordance bound in brown calfskin (*NIVC2BR), semi yapp style, red under gold page edges, with concordance and 16 pp maps. £70

Yes, this edition is available in black highland goatskin for £20 extra, and in mid-grain goatskin for the same price. But there is something jaw-dropping about the grainy brown calfskin cover on mine. No, it isn't as liquidly limp as the goatskin would be, but it's flexible enough and feels great in the hand. The real delight, though, is the appearance. The brown is captivating. Looking closely, the raised grain is dark and the fissures in between are lighter, so there's a real complexity and depth to the color. It's one of those love-it-or-hate-it effects, and I love it.

R. L. Allan's TNIV

It's hard to find a decent copy of Today's New International Version. When I received my preview edition of the New Testament a few years ago, I was duly impressed. It featured an attractive single-column setting. It employed a classic, readable font. The preview copy was printed on cheap paper and had a glued spine -- but then it was free, so what you do expect? The same format with better quality materials would have been superb. Sadly, it was not to be.

Instead, most editions of the TNIV have been targeted at the youth market, and they've adopted an eccentric typeface that doesn't bother some people but rubs me the wrong way. Everybody who has a "favorite" translation inevitably complains that it doesn't get enough market support from the publisher, but in this case I think TNIV readers have a point. There aren't any "nice" editions available. (The recently released TNIV Reference Bible is a step in the right direction, but it's still only offered in a bonded leather binding -- and that font is back again.)

Finally, though, there is an edition of the TNIV I can recommend wholeheartedly -- and not surprisingly it comes from R. L. Allan's. The Allan's TNIV is a 4.5 x 6.5 inch hardback, about .875 inches thick, featuring a small print, double-column text. The cover is available in four styles: black highland goatskin, imperial purple highland goatskin, cardinal red goatskin, and British tan calfskin. These sell for £50. There's also a French morocco edition for £40. A tabbed closure keeps the silk-lined cover secure. According to the description at Bibles-Direct.com, these editions have two ribbon markers; mine only came with one.

Personal Size Reference Edition (ESV)

My reviews don’t often come with a preface, but in this case I think it’s necessary. The Personal Reference ESV needs to be judged in a particular context. There are only a handful of single-column text settings on the market, and I’m at a loss to think of any other single-column reference versions. I suspect that, in spite of the success of The Message, publishers still view the format as risky. They might sympathize with the rationale behind giving the Bible an updated, more readable format, but that doesn’t allay fears that the market isn’t ready for it.

Above: The Personal Reference ESV with black TruTone cover.

In our little slice of the market, though, the change is long overdue. I doubt any of us think that a single-column, paragraphed setting is a panacea, or that the traditional double-column settings should disappear, but there seems to be a consensus that if the Bible is meant to be read, it should be formatted for reading rather than reference. It should look more like a novel, in other words, something meant to be read cover-to-cover and less like a dictionary, where you just look things up.

Allan's Bold Print Reference Edition (NIV)

Looking for a good deal on a great Bible? R. L. Allan's is offering "slightly imperfect" copies of the Bold Print Reference NIV bound in black Highland goatskin for just £50. Supplies are limited, so if you like what you see, you'll want to take advantage of the opportunity now. Ready to take a look?

This edition is everything you would expect from Allan's: soft and supple, incredibly limp, a pleasure to hold in the hand. The proportions are very similar to the famous Allan's ESV, just a little thicker, a hair taller, and perhaps an ounce or two heavier. The text block comes from Hodder & Stoughton in the UK. And the slight imperfection? The outside margins are 3mm tighter than they should be.

The Message (Personal Size) Numbered Edition

I've sung the praises of NavPress before, citing the design savvy apparent in several editions of The Message Remix, and now I have to do it again. Like every publisher, NavPress turns out its fair share of tasteless kitsch, but every so often they show that with a little aesthetic know-how, inexpensive materials can be shaped into a superb finished product. The latest example of this is the new Personal Size Numbered Edition of The Message.

The Message, of course, is a popular paraphrase of Scripture by Eugene Peterson. I love Peterson's writing and have gained a great deal from him over the years, but I'm not a big fan of the paraphrase. It doesn't "speak to me," I guess you could say. So why is it the first option I investigate every time I'm in the bookstore? Because NavPress has done a great job of designing outside the box. The Message Remix hardback, for example, is a great, reader-friendly format that's become a bit of a postmodern classic.

ESV Journaling Bible in Calfskin

If the National Security Administration's sophisticated anti-terrorism software could be calibrated to zero in on the phrase "I wish Crossway would do this," imagine how many e-mails, blog posts, and telephone calls would be intercepted. They'd have to hire extra staff. Considering how recent a translation the ESV is, it has a lot of fans. And some of us are, for lack of a better word, obsessive. We focus in on details most people would never notice. We are demanding. As a result, we tend to dwell on what's wrong and sometimes lose sight of what isn't. At any rate, I do.

One thing Crossway has done a fantastic job of is offering its editions in a variety of covers. The original Classic Reference setting, for example, is now available in more than a dozen editions. There are over twenty thinline editions to choose from. You even get two options on metal-bound ESVs, choosing between the sleek refinement of "brushed aluminum" or the grungy authenticity of "weathered metal."

The Journaling Bible is no different. My money's always going to be on the original, Moleskine-inspired edition, which I've reviewed here. But if that doesn't float your boat, there are four other options to choose from -- a plum hardcover, a terracota/sage hardcover with elastic strap, a brown leather flap-and-strap cover, and the black calfskin featured here.

Pocket Canon (KJV)

Blandness and kitsch are the Scylla and Charybdis between which any attempt at an innovative Bible design must navigate. You can drop text into double columns, print on thin, white paper, and slap a plain black cover on, and you're guaranteed to have something that looks the part, in the way a bunch of groomsmen in rented tuxes do. They don't look great, but you know what they're supposed to be. Or, you can throw restraint to the wind and offer a line-up of crazy looks that look better suited to Mardi Gras than the typical church service. The tuxes still look rented, but they're pink with ruffled shirts. To me, neither option is particularly satisfying. I want to see some design sense applied to the Good Book, but that doesn't mean I want to jettison all sense of aesthetic taste.

Which is why, nearly a decade later, I'm still impressed with the Pocket Canon.

R. L. Allan's Oxford Brevier Blackface Reference Edition

It's appeared several photos. I've mentioned it a time or two. But until now, I've never posted my thoughts on the Oxford Brevier Blackface Reference Edition from R. L. Allan. This is quite an omission, considering the Brevier Blackface was the first Bible I ever purchased from R. L. Allan, the beginning of the affair, so to speak. So why the long silence? It's one of those love/hate situations. If you think of this edition as the child of Allan's and Oxford, I love what Allan's contributed to the gene pool and feel pretty ambivalent about the Oxford chromosome. It all comes down to one little word: blackface. Whether you love or hate this edition depends entirely on how dark you like your text. If you don't like cream in your coffee or moon in your night, the Brevier Blackface might be the ticket. For everyone else, I recommend the Longprimer.

First, let me explain why I chose Oxford over Cambridge. R. L. Allan offers its own editions from both publishers, and there are actually more options to choose from on the Cambridge side of the equation. The Oxford settings of the KJV tend to look a bit antiquated, as well, both because of the font and the self-pronouncing feature, which might be nice when reading aloud, but doesn't do the intelligibility of the page any favors. Still, I chose an Oxford edition for variety's sake. By the time I discovered Allan's, I already had a shelf full of Cambridge KJVs!

Nelson Signature Slimline KJV

The picture says it all, right? According to the official site, the Nelson Signature series is "bound in the softest, most supple and durable calfskin," and you can clearly see the result: a Bible that can bend over backwards -- literally. These days, the edition pictured (#2019) goes under the title KJV UltraSlim Bible, but when I purchased it back in 2000, they were still calling it the Slimline Edition, so I'll stick with that nomenclature. Whatever you call it, this is an excellent Bible -- and, I would argue, a historically significant one.

LUXURY VS. QUALITY
A generation or two ago, the fact that a Bible was printed on India paper with a sewn binding and a calf or goatskin binding would have signaled quality. Today, quality has been redefined as a luxury. We pay a premium to get what it would have been unthinkable to omit not too many years back -- and if we do pay, there's always the chance a well-meaning brother will come along and denounce us for our extravagance. So we're left with a strange paradox. By traditional standards, most of the Bibles available to us are shoddy productions, but saying so makes us seem superficial.

The Books of the Bible (TNIV)

The Books of the Bible is a fascinating project from International Bible Society, a new approach both to the design and organization of the biblical text. The emphasis is on better Bible reading. To that end, the designers have made a series of intriguing choices. Here's a run-down from the project's site:

* chapter and verse numbers are removed from the text (a chapter-and-verse range is at the bottom of each page)

* individual books are presented with the literary divisions that their authors have indicated

* footnotes, section headings and other supplementary materials have been removed from the text (translators’ notes are available at the back of each book)

* the books of the Bible have been placed in an order that provides more help in understanding, based on literary genre, historical circumstance and theological tradition

* single books that later translations or tradition divided into two or more books are made whole again
(example: Luke-Acts)

* single-column setting that clearly and naturally presents the literary forms of the Bible’s books

The project is styled as a "presentation" of the Bible, highlighting the novelty of the approach. The Books of the Bible is meant to encourage a new way of seeing. Instead of focusing on the verse or the chapter, the emphasis is on whole books. This is music to my ears, and it's no surprise that since this project debuted, I've been getting lots of e-mails asking, "What do you think?"

After spending some time with the Books of the Bible, I'm ready to answer.

Allan's Reference ESV in Tan Goatskin

Nothing I have ever done in the course of my life has generated more enmity among the wives of quality-conscious Bible readers than my original review of the Allan's ESV in black goatskin. As a result of that little essay, countless people have learned firsthand the devastating effects of a weak dollar, and many more have promised themselves to take a trip some day to the Glaswegian promised land where R. L. Allan's is to be found. No doubt they have also hardened their hearts to the plight of the "highland goat," which must by now be an endangered species (so much so that Dr. Sinclair Ferguson, who pastored in Glasgow for many years, told me he'd never heard of such a creature).

For all this, I can offer no apology. My black goatskin ESV from Allan's is splendid, and the new tan one only gets better.

It should be no secret by now that, while I always find something to quibble about, I really like most of the Bibles I write about here. I wouldn't waste time using and photographing and thinking about them if that weren't the case. But I love some more than others, and none more than the Bibles of R. L. Allan's. On this topic, I find it hard to remain objective. I find it hard not to gush. To understand that, you need to know a little history.

Cambridge Wide Margin Reference Bible (NASB)

Like trying to hold water in my hands ... that's what my first experience with the Cambridge Wide Margin Reference Bible was like. I expected the goatskin cover to be flexible, but this was ridiculous. Ridiculously good, that is. Wherever it wasn't supported by my hand, this Bible gracefully plunged toward the floor, almost like it was wet. I half expected it to be dripping, but of course it wasn't. That's the illusion a fine, flexible binding can give. Though the New American Standard Bible (NASB), the translation featured in this edition, is often described as "wooden," this wide-margin felt anything but. It was the best Cambridge binding I've ever witnessed, and one of the best Bibles I've ever handled, period. The epitome of limpness.

For years, Cambridge has been a name to conjure with in the world of Bible publishing. They've been publishing Bibles since 1591, so they've had time to work out the kinks. And at a time when publishers left and right began to let the standards slip, it seemed that Cambridge was holding the line. Sure, there were disappointments -- stiff calfskin, muddled imprints, and so on -- but these were exceptions with Cambridge and not the rule as with most everyone else. When I first began the sisyphusian hunt for the ideal Bible, Cambridge was the first place I turned, and they have rarely disappointed. My favorite New Testament and my favorite wide margin are both Cambridge Bibles.

Even so, I wasn't expecting to be as impressed with the wide margin NASB as I was.

Pocket New Testaments

My first New Testament probably came from the Gideons -- if it wasn't the first, it's the first I remember. I must remember it wrong, though, because in my mind it's green, but according to the official color coding it should have been red or orange. Anyway, whatever its color, I was fascinated by the little book with its dry, crisp pages and cramped text, and the fact that it was small enough to put in a pocket. Over the years, that fascination has never worn off, which is why I have a stack of New Testaments on my desk right now. Let's take a look at what we've got here, starting at the top of the stack.

1. Cambridge Pocket New Testament (NIV), bound in black calfskin. I bought this one on a whim because of its tiny size. It measures 4.5 x 3.25, and 7/16 of an inch thick. The cover is flexible and aromatic, and the binding is sewn. In other words, quality-wise it's comparable to one of the larger Bibles. It even came in a miniature slipcase.

Cambridge Pocket Cross-Reference Edition (NIV)

I don't remember where I first heard about Cambridge's Pocket Cross-Reference Edition, but after the second or third rave I decided to check it out. Two problems: this edition isn't available in the United States (where the niche seems to be filled by the slightly larger but thinner Pitt Minion Reference Edition), and it's only available with the New International Version. Nothing against the NIV, I just don't use it that often. When I want a literal translation, there are better options to choose from like the ESV, NRSV, or the NASB, and when I'd like a more figurative reading, there's the REB, the NLT, or (at the extreme end) The Message. The NIV seems to occupy the middle of a spectrum that I tend to be on one side or the other of. Plus, it's not the official translation used at my church. So in spite of its popularity, I don't have as much experience with it as a lot of my fellow evangelicals.

I already had a nice Cambridge NIV New Testament, so I wasn't sure I could really use a Pocket Cross-Reference Edition. That, my friends, was before I went online and looked at the photos. When I finally did, I saw red. Literally. As I've told you before, I have a profound affection for all things red, and finding a red, hand-sized Bible these days is a bit of a challenge. So in spite of the fact that it would have to be shipped from the UK, and in spite of the fact it was an NIV, I decided to give the Pocket Cross-Reference Edition a chance.

Addendum: NRSV XL

In my earlier review of the new Standard NRSV and Go Anywhere NRSV published by Harper Collins, I mentioned the NRSV XL only in passing. At the time of writing, I hadn't seen one in person. Now I have, and I'm both impressed and baffled.

I'm impressed because, of the three editions available, the XL has by far the best cover. It's imitation leather, but not hardback like the Standard and not as bulky, textured and two-toned as the Go Anywhere. Instead, the XL is offered in an attractive solid tan and an even classier dark brown. As the name suggests, the XL is a bigger Bible -- the official trim size is 7.5 x 8, and the essentially square format is actually quite attractive. In spite of the size, it feels good in the hand. Opening it up, the layout is impressive, too. It's a large print Bible. The copy on the Harper Collins site assures us that "no one will feel that they have been relegated to ugly and bulky larger print editions by purchasing an XL," and they're absolutely right. The XL looks good, and the interior (unlike the Go Anywhere) rivals the Standard NRSV in elegance.

Now here's why I'm baffled: once again, it feels like some great pieces were on the design table, but they were assembled the wrong way. The cover feels great and looks great, but the XL is just too big. I understand it's a large print -- but I don't need one. If you do, and you like the NRSV, there is no downside. Both the Standard NRSV and the Go Anywhere appear to have sewn bindings, so presumably the XL does too (I didn't check). But I would like the Standard much better if it had a cover like the XL. By putting the most attractive color/cover options on the most specialized of the three offerings, it seems like Harper Collins has missed an opportunity.

What I'd love to see, in a future run, is the interior setting of the Standard NRSV reduced down to about 75% of its current size, with the same tan and dark brown cover options as the XL. (And while I'm wishing, I'd put two ribbons in it, as well.) Then you'd have the ultimate NRSV and probably the most attractive Bible at the low end of the price range.

Daily Reading Bible (ESV)

Since I review a lot of Crossway products here, I should offer a disclaimer. Yes, Crossway is the publisher of my book Rethinking Worldview: Learning to Think, Live, and Speak in This World. So it goes without saying I have a good relationship with them and think they do a wonderful job. But it wasn't always that way. When I first started writing about Bibles, the bulk of my criticism was aimed at the good folks in Wheaton, Illinois. Why? Because I liked the new English Standard Version translation but hated the bindings. That criticism opened a door. Crossway took my feedback in stride and asked for more. In time, they acted on an idea of mine which resulted in the Journaling Bible, and when they found out I'd written a book about worldviews, which is one of their core subjects, they were anxious to take a look.

I'm grateful for all that. But it hasn't tempered my criticism. When I like what Crossway's doing, I share it, and when I don't, I share that, too. I didn't make a secret of my lack of enthusiasm over the Single Column Reference Bible, for example -- as much as I want more single-column settings, I don't want to see verse-by-verse rather than paragraphed text. By the same token, when Crossway does something praiseworthy and inventive, I'm going to say so -- and that's my transition to the Daily Reading Bible.

IF THIS IS THE SOLUTION, WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?
In a word: literacy. One of the things I've learned as a teacher is that Christians don't know their Bibles as well as they should. (And I include myself here.) The only solution is reading, and there are dozens of reading plans out there designed to encourage just that. One that I've always been fond of is the One Year Bible, because it divides the text up as needed and makes following the reading schedule easy as can be. As a result, I've promoted the One Year Bible for years as an easy way to integrate daily Bible reading into a life. There's always been one problem, though.

Standard and Go Anywhere Bibles (NRSV)

When I started writing about Bible binding and design, what drove me was my frustration at not being able to find a quality edition -- at any price. "Genuine" leather felt more like cardboard and even the deluxe Bibles seemed to fall apart with frequent use. Bonded leather was my bete noire, and if you'd told me I'd be singing the praises of fake leathers a few years later, I would have -- in the words of the King James Version -- laughed you to scorn.

But it's happened. As far as I'm concerned, there are only two options these days for readers who plan to actually use their Bibles. Spend a lot of money and get a high quality binding (like the ones reviewed here) or check out the ultra-cheap imitations. Give bonded leather a pass and don't buy anything that claims to be genuine or top grain leather until you've handled it. There are exceptions, of course -- Cambridge turns out some good bonded leather, for example -- but as a rule the wise options seem to be on either end of the spectrum, not in the middle. Which brings me to Harper Collins and the new NRSVs.

It may be a staple of academics and mainline denominations, but when it comes to interesting, high-quality editions, the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) is surprisingly under served. Oxford offers a nice pocket edition, but that's about it. So when I heard that Harper Collins planned to release a series of new editions, I was thrilled. I pre-ordered two of them, the Standard Bible and the Go Anywhere Bible. One of them is a sad waste of an opportunity, and the other is spectacular.

Spirit of the Reformation Study Bible (NIV)

Several years ago, two new study Bibles hit the market, both of them genetically related to the New Geneva Study Bible, which appeared in the mid-1990s and positioned itself as a successor to the original Geneva Bible. Rather idiosyncratically, the NGSB features the New King James Version, an update of the Authorized Version with textual notes reflecting variants from the Textus Receptus, the Critical Text, and the Majority Text of the New Testament. One of the newcomers, the Reformation Study Bible, replaced the NKJV text with the new English Standard Version, but otherwise it was very similar to its predecessor. The other, the Spirit of the Reformation Study Bible, used the older New International Version -- but its notes were greatly expanded, offering a better window into the state of Reformed theology today, and it also included an index of Reformed confessional standards and catechisms.

If you ask me, the Spirit of the Reformation Study Bible is the better of the two.

Itsy Bitsy Bibles

Some pastors are going to hate me for this. They send me e-mails all the time, and their biggest complaint is the small type size used in so many Bibles. How can ... mature ... eyes be expected to read these things? I know some of my readers would be happy to see legislation passed prohibiting type under 12 pt., and I feel for them. Still, I just love small Bibles. No, let me take that back: I love tiny Bibles, itsy bitsy ones. The kind you can slip in a jacket pocket and forget about. The kind you can carry with you everywhere. In this roundup, I've collected three of the smallest editions in my collection: a Compact ESV rebound by LeatherBibles.com, a Cambridge Crystal Reference KJV bound by Allan's, and a Little Oxford Bible.

Let's start with the biggest and work our way down. The Compact Thinline ESV is small. The type is just over 6 pt. and the trim size is a mere 3.75 x 5.75. It offers a concordance but no references. Old eyes may find this edition unusable, but I happen to like it -- so much that I have six or seven of them lying around in various bindings: two Collins editions from the UK in hardback and paperback, two of the original bonded leather ones, a TruGlo, a bonded leather Portfolio, and this one in soft calfskin from LeatherBibles.com.

Better Off Red: Red Bibles ... An All-Too-Rare Classic

Call me crazy, but I have a thing for red. It's the new black. In fact, as much as I love black, I wish everything that came in black also came in a nice, bright red. Imagine how cool a red Moleskine notebook would be. Well, a red Bible is cool, too. And what's more, it's a classic, albeit an all too rare one. This isn't a diatribe on how all Bibles should be red; it isn't a screed against narrow-minded publishers who can't bring themselves to do the right thing and produce red leather bindings. Instead, it's a tribute, an homage to one of my favorites. In the photograph here, I've assembled a stack of red Bibles (with a Book of Common Prayer thrown in for good measure). Let's take a look.

Starting from the bottom and working our way up: first, we have a nice Cambridge large-print KJV bound in top grain cowhide. I picked this one up in the late nineties at a Dublin cathedral. For my taste, there's a little too much purple in the red -- veering toward the dreaded "burgundy" -- but the cover is flexible and the type easy to read (if a little old fashioned). On top of that one, we have a smaller Cambridge KJV Cameo reference edition bound in French Morocco. As you can see from the photograph, this Bible sports an unusual finish, as if it couldn't make up its mind to between black and red -- or like a red Bible that fell off the back of the truck and got a good, even coat of tar for its trouble. I don't see them around as much anymore, but it used to be possible to find curious oddities like this by searching through a stack of Cambridge Bibles at the bookseller.

Inexpensive Excellence: The "Portfolio" Thinline ESV

I'm not a purist. As much as I appreciate tradition, I don't think it's worth perpetuating just because it's tradition. If I love well-bound leather bound Bibles, it has very little to do with nostalgia for the "good old days." I love them because they are things of beauty, because they aremore functional than their poorly-bound cousins, and because anything worth doing is worth doing well. A Bible doesn't have to be expensive to be made well, and it doesn't have to be bound in leather, either.

No one despises the morbid particleboard substance known as "bonded leather" more than I do. Before you settle for a bonded leather Bible, you would be better off choosing a hardback. Bonded leather is stiff. It curls (or bends) at the corners. It feels terrible to the touch. After long, hard use, some bonded leather covers will soften, just as some bad bindings will lay flat if you force them to. But why bother? If you want a leather-bound Bible, spend the extra money and get one. Accept no imitation.

Something interesting has been happening in Bible publishing, though.

Two Paragraphed KJVs

The Authorized Version of the Bible, popularly known as the King James Version, is a literary landmark that will never be surpassed in the English language; but sadly, it is falling out of use. At least part of the reason, I am convinced, is the antiquated typography that plagues most editions. So why not publish an AV in paragraph form?

Today's KJV
It has finally happened. After years of moaning about the absence of an edition of the Authorized Version set in modern type, paragraphed and punctuated, I am now the proud owner of one: Today's King James Version, published in Bath, England by an outfit called Bible First. This edition is nicely bound (although the imprinting is not crisp) and was produced in honor of Queen Elizabeth II's jubilee.

The New Cambridge Paragraph Bible (KJV)

Ever since Cambridge announced plans to release the New Cambridge Paragraph Bible, I've been getting e-mails from around the world. Since I've campaigned (or at least, complained) long and hard for a modern, single-column setting of King James Version, you can imagine with how much excitement I greeted both the announcement and the periodic reminders. I pre-ordered a copy from Amazon as soon as they were listed, but months passed and the order was never filled, so I canceled the order and placed another -- then canceled the second order to place a third. Amazon always claimed the thing was in stock and ready to ship, but they never shipped it. Finally, I broke down and ordered it through a re-seller. When it arrived, I sat down with the New Paragraph Bible and spent several hours turning page by page to unstick the gilt edges and let the pages flow free. By the time I was done, I'd formed some definite opinions.

Mixed Message: Design Lessons from The Message Remix

I have mixed feelings about The Message Remix.

If my own experience is anything to judge by, Eugene Peterson's paraphrase of Scripture is enjoying popular success. I see it everywhere. The Message Remix seems to be the Bible most likely to be seen in the hands of students and coffeeshop dwellers. I can understand the appeal. The hand-sized hardback edition pictured here is approaching the status of "design classic," if such a label can be applied to Bibles.

As far as I'm concerned, the designers made a series of excellent choices that make The Message Remix the best inexpensive hardback Bible on the market. What I hope to do in this article is outline some of the "lessons" other publishers can learn from this example.

Rebinding an ESV Thinline: A Mechling Bookbindery Project

In 2001, Crossway released the English Standard Version, an evangelical revision of the venerable RSV. The problem: while I admired the translation, Crossway's production values came nowhere close to the quality I wanted. So I turned to Mechling Bookbindery for help.

If you're interested in fine Bibles, the odds are you've contemplated something similar. What if you could strip away the cardboard-like substance that passes for genuine leather in most Bibles and have a rebinding wizard replace it with some exquisite substitute from yesteryear? My reviews have generated a lot of e-mail inquiries over the years, and the number one topic has to be the feasibility of rebinding a Bible. My own experience suggests that it's possible -- but you have to know exactly what you want!

The ESV Journaling Bible: Moving Wide Margins into the Mainstream

In the summer of 2005, I walked into the office of Crossway's Director of Production Services, Dallas Richards, with an ESV New Testament in one hand and a Moleskine notebook in the other. The idea I pitched was simple. Take the insides of the New Testament and wrap them in the outside of a Moleskine notebook.

I'd sent a couple of e-mails with the suggestion in advance, and these -- along with the reviews I'd posted online -- led to the invitation to visit in person.

Everyone at Crossway was receptive to my ideas, but after that visit I never heard another thing about it until, a year later, I received advanced notice that the ESV Journaling Bible was about to make its debut. It wasn't the idea I had pitched, not exactly. Instead of the New Testament, Crossway had inserted the entire Bible, and instead of a single column setting the Journaling Bible features a double column layout with wide margins for notetaking. Was I still impressed? You bet I was. As far as I'm concerned, the ESV Journaling Bible is the ultimate hardback Bible available today, a beautifully produced and usable edition.

HARDBACK BIBLES AND MOLESKINE NOTEBOOKS
Some people "get" the Journaling Bible right away. If you've ever used a Moleskine notebook, then this format is a no-brainer. My friend Anthony, who is the king of journaling, dropped me an e-mail the moment his arrived. "Got my ESV journaling Bible today in the mail," he said. "Oh my, it’s beautiful. Now the question arises: Are we actually going to deface these by writing in them? Maybe I should have bought two?" Buying two is the right move. When Moleskines were first re-introduced, I bought up a huge inventory, convinced that something this wonderful could not possibly stay on the market long. I was wrong, thankfully, but I still like to keep blanks on hand just in case. The Journaling Bible inspires similar feelings. I have two of them on my desk right now, one for using and the other "just in case."

Crossway's Classic Thinline ESV in Cordovan Calfskin

When Crossway released the English Standard Version in 2001, I was enrolled in a Westminster Doctrine of Salvation class with Dr. David McWilliams. During the course of one of his lectures, Dr. McWilliams mentioned the ESV, explained a little bit about its history, and gave us an example (Ephesians 1:4-5) of an instance where the ESV's rendering was superior to other translations. As the class progressed, Dr. McWilliams began to use the ESV while teaching, and I did likewise, acquiring the first of my many copies. As a translation, I loved it. My admiration only grew when I read Leland Ryken's The Word of God in English, which defends the ESV's "essentially literal" approach to translation while questioning many of the assumptions about readers that animate the more popular approach, dynamic equivalence.

My only problem was that Crossway packaged an excellent translation in a lackluster package. Although I admired the typography -- except the sections set in verse, where the ESV's narrow columns created unintended line breaks (a problem that would be fixed by a single-column setting -- the bindings left a great deal to be desired. Like so many modern leather bindings, the Crossway Bibles felt as if they'd been wrapped in cardboard. The leather was as likely to crease as flex, and the Bible felt stiff and dead in the hand. Since I had earlier acquired an appreciation for decent (or in modern parlance, "fine") binding, this was enough to make me cry out to the heavens in desperation.

So I took matters into my own hands. As soon as the slimline edition of the ESV came out, I sent one to Mechling Bookbindery and had them re-bind it in goatskin. Although the result was not exactly what I'd hoped for -- the elegance of, say, an Allan's binding was absent -- I ended up with a comfortable, attractive (if somewhat workmanlike) ESV. For a while, I planned another project: a compact ESV to be re-bound according to more precise specifications, this time with some additional artifacts of Reformed theology like the Heidelburg Catechism and the Westminster Confession bound into the back, something the Spirit of the Reformation Study Bible (sadly available only in the NIV) later did. So far, that project is still simmering on the back burner.

By the time I heard about Crossway's Thinline Cordovan Premium Calfskin ESV, I had pretty much written Crossway off. Their earlier effort at a "premium" binding, the Heirloom Reference, left me cold. It was bulky and the examples I saw suffered from "fuzzy" imprinting. I expected the Thinline Cordovan to be more of the same. But I was wrong. Dead wrong.

The R.L. Allan Reference ESV

The R. L. Allan website announces that these are "probably the finest Bibles in the world." Whoever inserted the word probably in that sentence should be nominated for the Nobel Prize for modesty. There is no question that Allan's produces the finest Bibles in the world. Allan's is the gold standard in fine binding. As far as these eyes (and fingers) are concerned, no one else comes close. During the recent Dark Age between the introduction of the English Standard Version in 2001 and the debut of Allan's Reference ESV bound in highland goatskin in the summer of 2004, I used to day dream about an Allan's-bound ESV. I would hold my Allan's KJV in Cape Levant goatskin, rubbing my hands over its cover and inhaling the wonderful scent of the leather and art-gilt pages, imagining that when I opened it the ESV would miraculously appear. (And I'm sorry to report that this is not an exaggeration. An improbable amount of my time is spent doing precisely this sort of thing.) Finally, the notice appeared on the Allan's site that an ESV was in the works. I received the latest print catalog and had the news confirmed. I remember showing the entry to Laurie. I wanted someone else to confirm that my eyes were not deceiving me. They weren't.

The 1599 Geneva Bible: History's Original Study Bible, Updated

The Geneva Bible is a sixteenth century English translation with extensive notes. Expatriate Calvinists produced the Geneva Bible during the reign of "Bloody" Mary, and it appeared in a variety of editions thereafter. It was the English Bible of the Reformation, but its popularity displeased King James I. As far as he was concerned, a king ruled by divine right and was in a better position than his subjects to determine what sound doctrine should be. When he wasn't suppressing separatists, he commissioned what ultimately became the most influential (and note-free) translation, the King James Version.

But the success of the KJV was not immediate. It was the Geneva Bible, not the KJV, that Pilgrims carried with them to the New World. (William Bradford, for example, owned a 1592 edition.) Much has been written about the significance of the Geneva Bible, but interest today is largely antiquarian. In the 1990s, when a name was needed for a new Reformed study Bible, the publishers called it The New Geneva Study Bible. Today, the name has been changed to Reformation Study Bible -- presumably because consumers didn't "get" the reference. For all its former glory, the Geneva Bible is now covered in a thick layer of dust.

FACSIMILES ABOUND
That doesn't mean it's forgotten -- or even particularly inaccessible. A variety of facsimile editions are now available to readers. They tend to be expensive, unweildy and (thanks to sixteenth century typography) difficult to read. The massive leather-bound L.L. Brown facsimile of the 1599 Geneva Bible has been on my shelf for several years. When I first delved into it, I was surprised at how helpful the notations are for study. The goal of the notes is typically to steer the reader through the "argument" of the passage. Working through them, you develop a real appreciation for how the theology of the Reformation is derived from the text. Which is not to say that modern readers, even Reformed ones, will agree with everything they find. The value of the notes, as compared to those found in many study Bibles today, is that, in addition to clarifying ambiguities, they present a running "reading" of the text. I have no trouble seeing what made the Geneva Bible so appealing to its original audience.

But in facsimile form, these benefits are not exactly accessible. Read through a few pages of this facsimile of the 1560 edition and you'll see what I mean. It's not hard to make out -- particularly if you have experience parsing early modern typography -- but it's not exactly easy, either. Given its significance, I've always wondered why an edition of the Geneva Bible with updated spelling and typography isn't available.

Well, now it is.