Much of our alphabet was built
on a series of misunderstand¬
ings. In some ways it is the
result of a series of blind adop¬
tions rather than the carefully
planned parenthood one might
expect. When the Phoenicians
cultivated the seeds of our
alphabet from Egyptian hierat¬
ic script, they were not neces¬
sarily aware of the background
and meaning of its characters.
They simply started using
them, which is roughly akin to
assembling a ten-speed bicycle
without reading the instruc¬
tions. Likewise, when the
Greeks adopted many of the
Phoenician letterforms, they
did so without a full under¬
standing of their meaning or
function. At that point, our
ten-speed bicycle was then
modified with some additional
parts, old as well as new.

The problem was that many
early written languages devel¬
oped by means of acrophony,
or using what was originally a
logogram, which is a graphic
symbol that represents an
entire word, as a phonetic sym¬
bol for the initial sound of the
word that it represents. The
transfer of meaning from one
language to another could be
made very smoothly if speakers

of different languages used
words starting with the same
sound to identify the same
things. Unfortunately, though
perhaps not unexpectedly, this
was not always the case in the
ancient world.

Therefore, when the Egyp¬
tians used the symbol or
graphic equivalent of a hand,
or deret, to indicate the sound
value of d, it served its purpose
adequately. When the Phoeni¬
cians adopted much of the
Egyptian hieratic system of
writing, however, they didn’t
know what meanings had pre¬
viously been assigned to each
of the symbols. For example, it
has been speculated that the
Phoenicians interpreted the
Egyptian hieratic form used to
indicate the d sound as a draw¬
ing of a door to a tent, or part
of a wooden door. As a result,
they called the character
daleth—their word for “door.”
The daleth eventually evolved
into something that looks like
the percussion instrument
known as a triangle.

The Greeks had apparently
adopted the acrophonic princi¬
ple from the Phoenicians.
However, because they had no
understanding of the Phoeni¬
cian name for each of the let¬
terforms, they let that name
(or something close to it) rep¬
resent their version of it. Thus,
the Phoenician aleph became
alpha, beth became beta, and
daleth evölved into delta. (In
contrast to the Phoenician let¬
ter names, most of the names
that the Greeks used were sim¬
ply transliterations of the
Phoenician that didn’t refer to
anything other than the letter
forms.) Over time, the Phoeni¬
cians’ somewhat haphazard
rendering of a door developed
into the orderly, and at times
symmetrical, triangle-shaped
Greek letter familiar to college
fraternal societies. Sometime
later in its evolution, the trian¬
gular D was tipped to balance
on one of its points. Later a
modified (rounded) version of
the basic shape was also used
from time to time.

ДЛЛ[>

Adobe Garamond Semibold

The Etruscans, from whom
the Romans borrowed their
alphabet, adopted this softened
version of the letter when they
wrote. Sometimes it looked
remarkably like the capital D
we use today, and at others it
looked more like a P. The
Romans then further refined
the D into the balanced and
deceptively simple shape with
which we are now so familiar.

While those of us not in col¬
lege normally have little use for
the Greek delta, the legacy of
this character lives on in words
like “delta wing,” “deltoid,”
and “river delta.” In addition,
one almost extinct group of
Americans still makes active
use of the delta symbol in writ¬
ten communication: Hoboes
use it to indicate “a soft touch.”
When drawn on or near a house
and in conjunction with two or
three smaller ones, the delta
advises other hoboes that a
“pitiful story” succeeded in
obtaining food—or a night’s
shelter.

Duc De Berry

The D is one of those letters
that looks like it ought to be
constructed out of a simple
straight line and the arc of a
circle. It can’t be. (Or rather,
the good ones aren’t.) The
straight vertical stroke of the D
can be just that, but in many
alphabet designs there is a deli¬
cate swelling at each stroke end.
If this subtle trait is a part of the
character, then an even subtler
one is also necessary: The bot¬
tom swelling must be just
slightly heavier than the top.

The curved part of the letter
is also more complex than it
seems. Starting at the top of
the vertical stroke, it turns
almost imperceptibly upward
as it decreases slightly in width.
Its swell at its widest point is
always just a little heavier than
the straight stroke, and this
weight is carried through the
mathematical center of the let¬
ter (to about four o’clock). The
curve then joins with a strong
yet graceful connection at the
bottom of the vertical. Some¬
times there is even a gradual
movement upward just before
it meets the straight stroke. In
some designs, the curve begins
virtually at the top of the
straight stroke. At the bottom,
however, there should be a

short, flat “passage” between
the bowl and the main vertical
to ensure stability on the base¬
line.

Some type designs carry the
heaviest bowl weight above the
optical midpoint. Hiroshige is
an exaggerated example, while
ITC Berkeley Oldstyle is a more
subtle one.

D Hiroshige Book I

ITC Berkeley Oldstyle I J

If serifs are part of the
design, the one at the baseline
is usually just a little larger
than the one at the top. This
also gives the character strong
footing. In some typestyles the
lower serif is raised slightly
above the baseline, a rare ap¬
proach that is usually employed
to prevent visual distortion.

All this complicated con¬
struction serves to make the
finished letter appear optically
correct and, for serif designs,
so that it appears to have been
drawn with a flat-tipped brush.
Ds are difficult to construct but
easy to draw.

Mekanik

Triplex Condensed
Serif Black

Letraset

Follies

ITC Galliard

Kaufmann Bold

25