A Book Designer’s Notebook is a newsletter about books, design, and creative practice from the desk of Nathaniel Roy.
On the banks of the Red Cedar, there lived … a Wolverine?
If you know anything about the collegiate dynamic in the Great Lakes State, you know the only time “Michigan State” and “Wolverine” should be spoken in the same sentence is on game day. But what if I told you this was once was not the case?
Several years ago, I was in a large antique store—in Traverse City or Port Huron, I can’t remember which—and stumbled across a large, old book called The Wolverine. Being young and ignorant, I thought I had found a yearbook from The University of Michigan—until I opened the book and Sparty leapt forth from the page.
For some older Michigan readers this may be old news, but prior to 1976, the Michigan State University yearbook—now named The Red Cedar Log—was once called The Wolverine.
Standing in that antique store, I was confused. Why would a Michigan State yearbook share a name with its rival’s mascot? Luckily, my new purchase seemed to anticipate my question. Whoever was selling the book included some helpful documentation from the MSU Archives and Historical Collections.
Thanks, Jeanine!
The MSU Yearbook changed its name to The Red Cedar Log officially in 1976. Before it was The Wolverine it went by other names as well. This history and what cause the name change are included.
Glad to be of service Have a good week.
So the publication was renamed more than 30 years after my copy was published in 1942. But why was it named The Wolverine in the first place? Michigan State—first named Agricultural College of the State of Michigan—has faced Michigan on the gridiron 111 times since 1898,1 and U-M students started referring to themselves as “Wolverines” as early as 1861,2 nearly 40 years before the yearbook got its name.
However, as the MSU Archives tells us, “at the time the first Wolverine was published … there was not the athletic rivalry between Michigan State and the University of Michigan that exists today.”3
Let’s turn again to the archive documents included in my purchase.
University of Michigan Captain Bob Brown posed with taxdermied wolverine on Ferry Field in 1925, improbably holding the ferocious critter on a leash. Source: The Bentley Historical Library.
The Many Names of a University Yearbook
Let’s ignore that 26-year-old photocopy warning, shall we?
From this photocopied 1918 document, we learn that the very first volume of this yearbook in 1887 was named The Harrow and “recorded in poem and prose the sayings and doings of the past school year.” A few years later, the name would change:
Whether or not the choice of a name for the first three volumes of the College yearbook was unwise is a matter of dispute, the harrowing details are obscured by the clouds of time, but certain it is that when Volume IV of the yearbook made its appearance in 1896 the name was changed and we find the Junior class presenting the “Heliostat.”
The reception of the “Heliostat,” while cordial, did not suffice to inspire the succeeding class to continue the good work and we find Volume V delayed in publication until 1900, when the famous class “naughty one,” brought forth a yearbook which they called the “Wolverine”—“which is after the name of that animal which is sacred to the land of our fathers.”
With the exception of Glück Auf in 1904—a German miner’s greeting,4 of all things—and the Jubilee Wolverine in 1907 to celebrate the school’s fiftieth birthday, the publication would remain The Wolverine until it became The Red Cedar Log in 1976.
What, then, precipitated the change to the book’s current name, after 76 years of the former? Our archivist friend again provides an answer.
“Perhaps the question of a name change has arisen before and perhaps it has been vetoed,” first-year Wolverine adviser Jack L. Hillwig wrote in a May, 1975 letter to Robert Perrin, the Vice President for University Relations at the time. “From my point of view, and the point of view of many others I have talked to, the name is a drawback to sales, promotion, and publicity.”
The wolverine, Hillwig concedes, has a “grand heritage in Michigan history,” but he argues that “in these times when the yearbook depends for its survival on quick recognition by students, maximum identification with this university, and sales into the thousands, what is not needed are factors working in our disfavor.”
Citing an informal survey conducted by yearbook staff to support his argument, Hillwig and his staff suggested a contest to solicit suggestions for new names. A naming contest was indeed held in 1976 and The Red Cedar Log, submitted by senior entomology5 research assistant Michael Dover, was chosen.6
So You’re a Spartan!
In addition to having a fascinating and apparently contradictory name, the 1942 edition of TheWolverine is a charming example of mid-20th century graphic design. The book has the rows of student photos you would expect from a yearbook, but it is also stuffed with features such as a stylish script, playful illustrations, dynamic page layouts, and a bold, red color.
Each section of the book is introduced with a colorful spread, featuring an illustrated Sparty, that the reader can unfold to reveal another photograph—or secondary message—on its back side.
It being the year 1942, the book is inordinately influenced by its place in the midst of World War II. Take, for instance, the early page that states Sparty’s “interest this year has been focused on a white bearded relative familiarly termed Uncle.” We don’t see Uncle Sam in this publication, but he clearly looms large in the minds of the students publishing this book.
“Sparty” and the students who have made this book possible present your ’42 yearbook. This bewildering, exciting year has been one of historical importance better understood by future generations than ours.
So regardless of the clarity of college in your mind, it will soon be forgotten as ’42 slips hurriedly into Time’s endless recordings. Therefore, we hope this book will make you recall what time will so quickly erase:
Michigan State - 1942.
Larry Hardy, Editor Betty Crum, Business Manager
In between these opening spreads, the pages contain several photomontages set in a variety of organic and geometric shapes and often presented at jaunty, diagonal angles.
Promoting State’s Interests Is His No. 1 Job
“Old enough in experience, yet young enough in ideas, — that’s a boiled down opinion of John A. Hannah’s qualifications for the Presidency of Michigan State College.
May the light never dim on education
Agriculture, engineering, home economics, veterinary science, applied science, and liberal arts are bright lights on the horizon of learning. Michigan State has helped light the way for better living. Its widespread connections with the people of Michigan makes it unique with its extension service, research, and all college program.
“Become teammates, wrangle over State’s sports problems, and wield a sharp initiation paddle”
“Fighting spirit their creed, field goals their fame”
“People and the Union are just bound to get together”
Flipping through the pages, you will find Sparty everywhere—not just on section spreads. Playful spot illustrations are liberally sprinkled throughout the book showing the mascot receiving a haircut, rushing a football, holding up a key, feeding chickens, and more.
And of course, no yearbook would be complete without advertisements nestling its back cover. We further see the war’s influence with a full-page ad from Oldsmobile with the words “‘KEEP ’EM FIRING!’” and an ad encouraging readers to buy bonds and stamps “for defense.”
Just a few of the Sparties throughout the book.
The book ends with a photo of the yearbook staff and an earnest message to readers:
You and Your Wolverine
About the first of June every year State’s yearbook, The Wolverine, makes its appearance on campus. This year was even more eventful than usual with war, priorities and national defense. But even in the face of these events your Wolverine has reached a new goal, both in number of pages and in copies sold. It has become one of the largest yearbooks in the middle west. And it has reached this goal because you support it.
Your yearbook, just in case you didn’t know, is an $18,000 non-profit business.7 It is operated by your friends, your roommates and the guys ad gals that you meet in classes all over campus. Its home is in the Union Building and the kids who put it out “live” there for eight months or so scheduling pictures, writing copy, phoning and doing a million jobs all the way from holding hot flash bulbs to making sure no one smokes when group pictures are taken in the Little Theater. It’s a lot of fun and a lot of work. And just how good the book is depends on YOU. The people who work can publish a book equal to the support you give it. The fine support this year has made this book a reality. It is your support that will make ’43, ’44, and all the years ahead a success. Give that support in the future and you will have a Wolverine that no other college can equal.
Taking a cue from the students of The Wolverine, I too will end with an earnest message to my readers:
THANK YOU!
For reading this, if you’ve made it this far, and for reading A Book Designer’s Notebook in general. That I have readers of any kind would have boggled my mind just a few short months ago. This is not an $18,000 business—in 1942 or 2024 dollars—so if you’d like to support this work, consider becoming a paid subscriber or buying me a coffee to help keep this newsletter free for everyone. Paid subscribers get access to themed chats with myself and other book design lovers as well as my forthcoming series called “How the Cover Came to Be.”
I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into an extremely niche subject. If you didn’t, don’t worry—there’ll be something more broadly appealing in your inbox soon. Probably. Maybe.
Until next time, —Nathaniel
Colophon
A Book Designer’s Notebook is a newsletter about books, design, and creative practice from the desk of Nathaniel Roy.
It uses the typefaces Merriweather, Futura, and whatever fonts Substack has chosen. Merriweather is a Google font designed to be a text face that is pleasant to read on screens. Futura is geometric sans-serif designed by Paul Renner in 1927. It is on the moon.
Nathaniel Roy is a book designer, collage maker, photo taker, self publisher, and a few other things in Ypsilanti, Michigan.
The question of why the University of Michigan uses the Wolverine moniker could be the subject of its own newsletter. More from the Bentley:
The great Michigan football coach Fielding H. Yost had a theory for the nickname, which he wrote about in the Michigan Quarterly Review in 1944. Yost felt that the reason for the nickname concerned the trading of wolverine pelts which occurred at Sault Ste. Marie for many years. The trading station served as an exchange between the Native Americans and other trappers and fur traders, who would eventually ship the products off to Montreal or the Eastern United States. Because many of the furs were in fact wolverine pelts, the traders may have referred to them as “Michigan wolverines,” leading to the state nickname and ultimately to the University of Michigan symbol.
Eight years later, in the Michigan Quarterly Review of 1952, Albert H. Marckwardt presented another theory for the "wolverine" name. Marckwardt's reasoning is based on the fact that Michigan was first settled by the French in the late 1700s. The appetites of the French were judged to be gluttonous or "wolverine-like" and, therefore, the nickname wolverines was conferred upon them.
The last theory derives from the border dispute between Michigan and Ohio in 1803, often referred to as the “Toledo War.” While the two sides argued over the proper setting of the state line, Michiganders were called wolverines. It is unclear, however, whether the Michigan natives pinned this name upon themselves to show their tenacity and strength, or whether Ohioans chose the name in reference to the gluttonous, aggressive, habits of the wolverine. From then on, Michigan was labeled the “Wolverine state” and when the University of Michigan was founded, it simply adopted the nickname of the state it represented.
Michigan State, or Michigan Agricultural College as it was thenknown, adopted the “Spartan” name in 1925. Before then, most of the athletic teams were known as the Aggies.
In the 1945 Wolverine, Sparty’s girlfriend, Spartina, was introduced. She wrote “letters” to Sparty, updating him about the events on campus while he was off fighting in WWII, page 15.
Literally this can be translated with “Luck up” or “Luck open”, but this is meaningless in English, so a better translation would be “Good luck.” Its original meaning has been lost during the centuries, but the most reasonable explanation is that it means “the ore veins shall open up for the miner.”
The Red Cedar Log continued until 1996 when the yearbook production ceased due to a lack of student interest and financial difficulties. A senior edition booklet with only senior pictures and a few campus photos was distributed that year. No yearbook was published in 1997. Finally, in 1998, the Associated Students of Michigan State University (ASMSU) reestablished the Red Cedar Log and was a success. To help offset the cost, in 2000 a $3 tax was included in each student’s tuition that is used to produce the yearbook. Today, all students can pick up a copy of the Red Cedar Log free of charge.
I really enjoyed this deep dive! I snag old yearbooks when I find them to cut up for collage, but I'm so focused on people and text that I've never examined them from a design context. This is a gorgeous book!
I loved this!!! My grandfather was the captain of the MSU basketball team in ‘39 and there’s a statue of him on campus, so while I didn’t attend MSU it has a dear place in my heart. I want to go and see if I can find a ‘39 edition of this to give to my dad. So good!!! Thanks for sharing.
I really enjoyed this deep dive! I snag old yearbooks when I find them to cut up for collage, but I'm so focused on people and text that I've never examined them from a design context. This is a gorgeous book!
I loved this!!! My grandfather was the captain of the MSU basketball team in ‘39 and there’s a statue of him on campus, so while I didn’t attend MSU it has a dear place in my heart. I want to go and see if I can find a ‘39 edition of this to give to my dad. So good!!! Thanks for sharing.