If Gentlemen’s Game is about class, power, and high-stakes drama, then this cover is the equivalent of showing up to a black-tie gala in Crocs and a wrinkled poncho. Nothing says “refined intrigue” quite like a random grayscale photo of dirty hands and a maroon background that screams “2009 PowerPoint gradient.”
Let’s start with the star of the show: the hands. Two very grubby, grayscale palms facing upward, as if begging for a better design. The photo is bleak, low-contrast, and completely unanchored—just a floating rectangle slapped dead-center like the world’s least-inspiring motivational poster. No frame, no blend, no texture—just stock-photo energy with none of the polish. If this is meant to symbolize toil or hardship, it’s doing it with all the subtlety of a wet sponge to the face.
Then there’s the title: GENTLEMEN’s GAME—and yes, that rogue lowercase s is part of the cover, not a typo on your screen. Did the caps lock fall asleep halfway through? Is “Gentlemen” a corporation and “s Game” their legal liability disclaimer? It’s a typographic mystery, and not the fun kind.
The font itself? Classic default serif, straight out of a “Make Your First Book Cover” tutorial from 2003. It’s centered with the ambition of a traffic cone—just standing there, doing the absolute minimum. No hierarchy, no scale, no effort. And it’s not alone—below it, “Lichen Craig” floats with the same disinterested spacing, as if the name is quietly excusing itself from responsibility for the design.
Now let’s talk background. Maroon. Just… maroon. With a faint, barely visible ghost of a hand behind everything—possibly accidental, possibly symbolic, definitely unreadable. It gives the cover a weird, smudged look, like someone tried to wipe their screen and gave up halfway through. There’s no texture, no contrast, no depth. Just one giant rectangle of design apathy.
This isn’t minimalism. This is a publishing shrug. A graphic yawn. A visual shrug emoji rendered in burgundy sadness.
The overall impression? A cover created under duress, or possibly by a printer test that accidentally became canon. It doesn’t evoke tone, genre, or intrigue. It just exists. And not proudly.
Gentlemen’s Game may tell a compelling story inside—but on the outside, it’s two grubby palms holding absolutely nothing.
Someone, please—give this cover a helping hand.