Title Page of The Book of Job

Seven winged figures gather beneath a title whose letters seem almost capable of flight. Their wings rise at either side, then sweep across the bottom of the page in a long, overlapping curve. Above them, William Blake enlarges the name of Job until its three letters become an image in their own right. Small curls, sharp points and branching tips make the words something to explore as well as read. This is the title plate for his Illustrations of the Book of Job, a suite of twenty-one numbered engravings that follows it. ^[1]

The page gives little advance information about the disasters, arguments and revelations ahead. It offers a name, a claim of authorship and a gathering of airborne bodies. Its relative openness matters. Before the increasingly crowded encounters of the series, Blake makes room for a slower encounter with the shape of writing. The title itself becomes our first illustration. ^[1]

Letters with their own movement

The English title reads “ILLUSTRATIONS of The BOOK of JOB”, descending through a sequence of changing scales. A comparatively narrow upper line introduces the illustrations; the definite article sits by itself below; the word identifying the book expands across the middle; another small connecting word separates it from the great letters of Job. The uneven proportions give each stage a different pace. Our eye reads downwards while repeatedly moving sideways to inspect a flourish or an unfamiliar outline. ^{[1] [13]}

The two round letters in the middle word are particularly striking. Their circular outlines contain upright divisions and small curling projections, as though an ordinary letter had acquired an internal frame. Beside them, angular strokes flare and turn back on themselves. Blake preserves enough of each familiar form for it to be recognised, while giving its empty spaces and edges a separate visual interest. The white inside a letter becomes as deliberate as the black line around it. ^[13]

Job's name is even more expansive. The initial rises like an irregular stem, with pointed growths along its side and a flowing upper terminal. The middle letter turns inward into a loop. Another loop curls inside the final letter, whose foot ends in a small creature-like profile. Similar transformations occur higher up: the flourish above the definite article has an open, head-like shape, while tiny organic forms fill part of a vertical stroke below. These details make the lettering feel inhabited without supplying a fixed identity for every projection. ^[13]

The likenesses remain mobile. A taper can suggest a leaf, a flame or a sharply turned feather according to the lines beside it. What we can follow securely is the movement: swelling curves narrow into points, straight strokes sprout irregular edges, and enclosed loops invite the eye back towards their centres. The lettering shares the winged figures' habit of turning and extending. Its ornament grows from the shapes we need in order to read. ^[13]

A quieter style appears under the name. “Invented & Engraved by William Blake” is set in smaller, more familiar letters, with the year beneath. These lines give the eye a resting place after the elaborate title. They occupy the space cradled by the angels, bringing the maker's name into the central opening between their bodies. ^{[1] [13]}

Winged figures around an open centre

The seven figures do not form a row of matching ornaments. On the left, one descends head down between upward-pointing wings. Beneath that figure, other faces turn towards us at different angles. On the right, heads rise one above another, with the highest wings reaching beside the lettering. Across the bottom, an extended body and long feathers carry the composition towards the right. The group is balanced through differences of position and direction. ^{[1] [13]}

Wings provide its strongest continuity. Some stand almost upright; others bend behind a shoulder or spread horizontally over a neighbouring body. Fine repeated strokes distinguish their shaded edges from the relatively open surfaces of faces and torsos. The broad, pale spaces between these strokes keep the gathering light even where several forms overlap. Blake can suggest an enveloping movement without filling the lower page with darkness. ^[13]

The faces interrupt that current. Several look out from the sheet, meeting the reader with an attentiveness that is absent from a purely leafy border. Others turn inward or upwards. Following them, we shift between recognising individual presences and seeing the whole group as a single sweep. Their shoulders and feathers shelter the small authorship statement, but the figures also reach towards the title above it. ^{[1] [13]}

Straight engraved frames enclose these changing contours. Their nested rectangles make the irregular outlines of wings and letters more conspicuous. Near the foot, the frame meets a cloud-like outline carrying the publication information. The page therefore contains several kinds of boundary: the precise rule, the swelling cloud and the loosely gathered bodies. Each gives writing a different setting. ^{[1] [13]}

The separate drawing

A preliminary design survives in the National Gallery of Art, Washington, in the Rosenwald Collection. The museum identifies it as a sketch for the engraved title, dates it about 1823–1826 and records graphite with pen and ink. Its accession is 1943.3.9015, corresponding to number 558 in Martin Butlin's catalogue of Blake's paintings and drawings. It is a separate drawing, with a much fainter and less resolved surface than the engraving. ^[2]

The same broad arrangement is already present. Large English words occupy the upper and middle page; winged bodies curl beneath and around them. The name of Job has received particularly clear attention, its darkened outlines standing out against paler trial lines. Elsewhere, strokes remain light enough to let several possible contours coexist. The drawing gives us a composition being tested through differences of emphasis. ^[2]

One change can be located very precisely. The Hebrew title lies beneath the large English name in the sketch; in the engraving it stands at the head of the page. Tate's catalogue explicitly notes that reversal of position. In the drawing, the Hebrew sits within the lower opening of the design. In the finished plate, a horizontal rule separates it from the English wording underneath, giving the two scripts a clearer order of approach. ^{[1] [2]}

The comparison also changes how we see the ornament. A curling arrangement of figures was part of the design before the finished print's crisp enclosing rules and fully articulated feathers. The engraving consolidates that earlier movement, sharpening faces and edges while preserving the open centre. Its finish comes through many decisions about what to define and what to leave spacious. ^{[13] [2]}

There is later writing on the drawing as well. The National Gallery attributes a lower inscription identifying the design to Frederick Tatham; its record also transcribes a verso note by William Michael Rossetti comparing the drawing with the engraving. Those annotations belong to the sheet's later interpretation. They should be distinguished from Blake's own lettering and from the visible alterations between sketch and print. ^[2]

Gothic lettering and two scripts

Tate describes the English lettering as ornate and somewhat Gothic, and identifies the Hebrew above it as the title of the Book of Job. The scripts have distinct visual characters. The upper characters are relatively isolated and evenly spaced; the English below becomes increasingly entangled with flourishes, loops and surrounding wings. Even before a reader understands the upper line, its separation and position give it prominence. ^[1]

The historical associations of that lettering have prompted different readings. Penelope Minney reports Andrew Wright's interpretation of the English forms as a rejection of eighteenth-century classical taste. She places greater emphasis on their positive connection with medieval art. Her discussion also reports Sheila Spector's suggestion that Hebrew could signal mystery to readers unfamiliar with the language. These are arguments about the effect of Blake's choices, rather than translations supplied by the ornament. ^[14]

Blake's own writing gives the Gothic association particular weight. In his description of a Last Judgment, he makes a Gothic church stand for “true Art Calld Gothic in All Ages”. The surrounding passage describes people rising into a spiritual world, with different figures representing states and relationships. His use of the term reaches beyond a chronological label for medieval buildings. It belongs to his understanding of art's continuing imaginative and religious life. ^[15]

That passage does not provide a key to every letter on the Job title. It helps explain why a consciously archaic form could be a positive artistic choice. The angular English words can bring manuscript illumination and religious art to mind while remaining Blake's own peculiar inventions. Their sharp extensions and creature-like endings keep the page from becoming an imitation of a standard historical typeface. ^{[13] [14] [15]}

The angels have also attracted larger interpretations. Minney notes the importance S. Foster Damon assigned to this title as a guide to the whole sequence, while reporting Bo Lindberg's more restrained emphasis on angels who watch. Her account reminds us that the plate's place at the entrance does not make every detail an agreed symbolic summary. The most immediate invitation is visible in the outward-looking faces: looking at the book can also feel like being looked at. ^{[13] [14]}

Inventing and engraving

Blake's authorship statement joins the conception of the work to its execution. Both activities belonged to him, and both are visible in the designed lettering. The same engraved line that defines a wing or a cheek also spells the words that identify the suite. Even the most practical information passes through the artist's hand. ^{[1] [13]}

He had expressed the connection much earlier. Writing to George Cumberland on 6 December 1795, Blake rejected a division that gave invention to one person and execution to another. In the same letter he supplied practical instructions for spreading wax over a warm plate and discussed the pressure needed to transfer lines. His argument about creative ability sits beside the particulars of workshop practice. ^[16]

The letter concerns another undertaking, so its instructions are not a recipe for making the Job engravings. Its relevance lies in the conviction it records. The title's paired verbs make a concise claim about responsibility for the work. The large, unusual words above and the fine articulations below allow us to see invention carried through execution on this particular plate. ^{[1] [13] [16]}

A title added for the engravings

Neither of Blake's two watercolour sets of Job illustrations contains this title design. Tate records it as an addition made for the engraved suite. The change gives a new entrance to a sequence that had already existed in another material. An individual biblical scene can begin with its figures and action; a printed title can first establish the work as a gathered whole. ^[1]

The next plate, Job and His Family, brings us to a household seated beneath a tree. The title has already introduced a different gathering, suspended around words and held in an airy curve. Passing between the pages means moving from a promise of illustrations to the first sustained encounter with their human subject. The title's separate place lets that encounter begin without requiring it to carry the name of the entire publication. ^[1]

The fuller development belongs to the complete Book of Job series. Here, the threshold offers its own small lesson in attention. Letters require recognition, but their ornament delays it; faces draw us close, but their bodies merge into wings. Reading and looking continually exchange places. ^{[1] [13]}

Two dates on one plate

The title includes 1825 beneath Blake's name, and its publication line gives 8 March of that year with his Fountain Court address in London. Tate's account distinguishes those engraved dates from the actual appearance of the completed suite, which it places in 1826. Its catalogue records Blake and John Linnell visiting the printer to see proofs on 5 March 1825, while locating readiness of the finished engravings around the end of March the following year. A date cut into the design and the date a publication became available answer different questions. ^[1]

The surviving impressions add another layer of time. Tate catalogues T05845 as an 1825 design reprinted in 1874. Its historical entry associates the museum's set with the later printing made for Linnell on India paper. Cleveland's separately identified title impression, accession 1968.260.a, provides another clear view of the same composition; the museum records it as an engraving dated 1825. Neither collection record establishes the printing date or provenance of every reproduction of the design. ^{[1] [13]}

These distinctions leave the visible achievement intact. The title gives Job's name an unforgettable shape, sets Hebrew above English and gathers seven alert presences beneath them. Its small publication line belongs to the practical life of a printed work; its restless curves make the approach to that work an imaginative event. Before the story begins, Blake has made its name worth looking at. ^{[1] [13]}