Typography.

I've been following my own chain of connections on the subject of typography. It started with The Lunar Men (2003) by Jenny Uglow. With regard to subject matter, here's an excellent review.
It's the 18th century, my favourite time in the history of the world, an age 'when great men were as common as gooseberries'. A couple of hundred pages into it I found myself riveted by a thought.
"The journeys of men who profoundly dissent do not end with death... After the house is sold in 1788, the small conical museum is removed, and so, the owner thinks, is the body..." (Uglow narrates, at some length, the peculiar story of the movements of the remains of John Baskerville, the great 18th century type designer.) "Finally, in 1898, he moves to Warstone Lane in the middle of Birmingham's jewellery quarter. He is still there now. I think. And his beautiful type lives on, and you are reading a version of it in this book."

The text of this paperback book is 'aware' of the type in which it is set!

Conventionally, the text of a book is completely unaware of its typographical environment. That kind of thing is decided after the author has handed the work in, it's been proofread, and she/he's too busy working on her/his next one to be available for consultation on such matters.
Later, a similar event.:
"The following summer, in front of a crowd of a hundred and fifty thousand, he (Captain Vincenzo Lunardi) arranged to take the famous beauty and actress Mrs Sage, and their friend George Biggins -amateur chemist and invetor of the coffee percolator- into 'the blue Paradisial skies', as shown on the cover of this book."
I hadn't read Uglow's work before (to my shame) and checked to see how she could have pulled such marvellous tricks. Thus I note that she works as an editorial director at a big publishing house, which I guess would give her the inside track on getting a book done exactly as she wanted it.

Mark Danielewski didn't have that advantage when putting together his House of Leaves (2000). (interview)
"We were heading for a train wreck, and (Pantheon) wanted to do it a completely different way — or didn't want to do it. So I actually, on my own dime, flew to New York and set up shop. They found a freelance computer on one of the floors... and I worked on it. It took me three-and-a-half weeks."

The interviewer is naturally incredulous that it could have been achieved in that time:
"The labyrinth section (the most complex section of the book) took, like, nine-and-a-half months to storyboard," Danielewski says. "So it was almost like a shooting schedule."
Leaves is a baroque extravaganza of typographical liberties. I like the way he composes endless lists of architects names or examples of architectural styles or technical terms, which seem pointless from a reader's point of view, until you realize that he has used the sheer physical density of the type to create walls and passageways or, by having a square of text mirror-reversed on the flipside of a page, blind windows.

For anone who needs an idea of what House of Leaves is 'about', I guess it's a psychological horror story about a house that goes wrong. Here's the first chapter transcribed out of its typographical environment, which is how most prose expects to get around in the world.