A cartouche is the ornamental frame on an old map that holds its title, its maker's name and often a dedication to whoever paid for it. Look closely and you'll find a whole second map in these panels: sea creatures, allegorical figures, trade goods, and occasionally a quiet joke from an engraver who knew few people would look that closely.
The Northern Cartouche is an illustrated history of these panels on maps of northern Europe, and it is first and foremost a beautiful object.
What's inside
The book is organised by theme rather than date: chapters on monsters, on ships, on the figures of commerce and on the boastful language of titles. Each spread pairs a large reproduction with a short essay explaining what the imagery meant to the map's original audience — who it flattered, what it advertised, and what it left out.
The reproductions are excellent. Fine engraving survives the printing, and many details are enlarged so you can read inscriptions that would be invisible on the original sheet.
Where it falls short
The introduction promises an argument about how decoration shaped the way northern territories were imagined — as wild, empty and available. That's a strong and interesting idea, but the essays rarely return to it. Most entries describe rather than argue, which makes the book easy to dip into but less satisfying to read cover to cover.
Who it's for
- For: map lovers, illustrators, anyone who enjoys lingering over images; an ideal gift for someone who already has a shelf of map books.
- Not for: readers who want a rigorous history of cartography or colonial imagery. This is a visual companion, not a scholarly study.
- Format note: it's large. Read it at a table, not in bed.
The Hunt verdict
Buy it for the pictures and the small discoveries in the margins. Treat the essays as captions, not chapters, and you won't be disappointed.