I read this not long after it first came out, when the National Museum of New Zealand had adopted Gill Sans and Perpetua as their official typeface. I doubt they'd do so today. Gill's life-long incest with his sister Gladys, his sexual experiments with his daughters, his attempts at shagging the maids, secretaries, his friend's wives, and every other woman he met were quietly papered over in previous biographies, despite Gill keeping a neatly-written diary of his sexual exploits, with symbols and a helpful key. From this we learn about his forays into bestiality, which led type designer Barry Deck to create Canicopulus Script (1989), a face where the o's have little tails above them.

Gill is (or at least was) a revered British sculptor and typographer, fervent Catholic convert (at the time he was taking Catholic instruction he was also working on a life-size marble sculpture of his own penis), pillar of the progressive Left, and creator of public monuments like the Stations of the Cross at Westminster Cathedral and Prospero and Ariel outside Broadcasting House. How do we reconcile these with his sexual voraciousness? (Last year one guy decided taking a hammer to Prospero and Ariel was the solution.) Fiona McCarthy has to deal with this contradictory life in this superb biography. She's explicit but not prurient, and explicates Gill’s complicated personal philosophy and religious belief which, at least for him, squared the circle, without letting him off the hook. It's a model for a biographer tackling such explosive revelations.

A typographic note: the cover is in Gill Sans, the text is not one of Gill's (the typeface choice sadly isn't mentioned in the colophon); the design is lovely but with frequent mentions of the Gills' home Capel-y-ffin I wish designer Ron Costley had used an ffi ligature… ( )

Biography of the type designer (maybe you’ve heard of Gill Sans) and sculptor. Besides his endless creative energy, he seems to have a hyperactive libido. He had numerous affairs and had sex with his sisters and daughters, as detailed in his diaries. He was a zealous convert to Catholicism but found ways to justify all this.

This biography led to a controversy about whether his sculptures of the Stations of the Cross in Westminster Cathedral should be removed, given his history as a pedophile. The Church refused. (I think art should be judged on its own merits, but I love his art and I wasn’t sexually abused as a child, so it’s not my ox being gored.) I didn’t mind his hypocrisy because, unless they oppress others with their beliefs, I’m not offended by individuals saying one thing and doing another. I think that kind of disconnect is human nature.

He died of lung cancer at only 50, from smoking and years of carving stone with no protection. I liked this biography; he's an interesting guy and this showed him warts and all.
I didn’t mind his hypocrisy because, unless they oppress others with their beliefs, I’m not offended by individuals saying one thing and doing another, and he didn’t do that. I think that kind of disconnect is human nature. ( )

Talk about the divided self! Three determining components of Gill's personality were: (1) Roman Catholic extremism, (2) genius and uncompromising dedication to his craft, and (3) an omniverous sexuality that highlighted (is that the right word) lifelong incest (with sisters and daughters) and experiments with bestiality. MacCarthy presents all of this with a poker face that's a model of the biographer's quest for objectivity. ( )

The hidden depths behind Eric Gill, master typographer, sculptor, and artist. Turns out he was a bit of a loon, and had some ``interesting’’ ideas about what sorts of sexual relationships were appropriate. ( )