It would be going too far to concur with Helen Barolini’s assessment that the whole story of the Hypnerotomachia is “clearly autobiographical,” although George Painter speculates credibly that the second book may entirely be a veiled autobiography in which the priestess of Diana represents the prioress of a nunnery, and the priestess of Venus a bawd. ... I am ultimately unpersuaded by Barolini's defense of the thesis that Aldus Manutius was the author of the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, preferring myself the more conservative and straightforward attribution to the monk Francesco Colonna. But Barolini's book is full of useful research and observations on the Hypnerotomachia, and makes for enjoyable reading.

This book is about the Venetian Renaissance printer Aldus Manutius, a scholar who eventually was able to use his training to edit the Greek texts that were rapidly appearing in Europe from the Eastern Empire for the first time. As a young man he was a retainer in the court of a minor noble. At some point he went to Venice where he found a way -- no one knows how -- to become a printer/publisher.

His great fame as a printer/publisher rests on perhaps three major achievements. First was his improvement to the readability of roman fonts and to book design. He effectively created the "pocket book." Before Aldus, books were set in Gothic type, and they were large, heavy and not meant to be carried around.

Additionally, he invented Italic type. His goal was to create a typeface that would capture the look of handwriting. In fact, the handwriting that he was trying to emulate was the so-called "chancery" hand that had long been used by the Vatican in its official documents.

His crowning achievement, however, is considered to be his publication of the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili in 1499. He produced this after only a few years in the printing business. It was considered to be the most beautiful book printed up to that time. The Gutenberg Bible and the Hypnerotomachia are spoken of by historians as the bookends surrounding the period that has been labeled "incunabula," that is, books published during the first fifty years, or the "cradle" of printing.

Helen Barolini's essay on Aldus is succinct, providing the essentials of Aldus' life and contributions both to scholarship and to publishing. The physical design of the book tries to mimic the look of the Hypnerotomachia and includes many reproduced pages plus all the woodblock engravings from that book and a descriptive list of them at the back which partly explains them. This list actually is helpful to readers of the English translation or any of the offshoots it has spawned, such as The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell and The Real Rule of Four by Joscelyn Godwin. On the whole, the book provides a glimpse into a fascinating aspect of Renaissance history. I would rate this book at four stars. ( )

After reading "Gutenberg" by John Man, I am moved to fish this book out of the piles ready to be packed. I found and fell in love with this book at the Small Press Book Fair . I had never encountered anything beyond references to "Hypnerotomachia Poliphili" before, descriptions of the illustrations and typography that made me drool to see it. I was not disappointed when I got the in this book! Gorgeous it was, and thanks to the author's concise prose I was able to appreciate the revolution the book represented. Lovers of books about books...find this one and enjoy! ( )