Close to a decade ago I was beginning to feel more than a little anonymous in the digital world. My cameras had all gone digital and everything I composed was done on a computer. The feeling that bothered me most was the one that told me my work was disposable and of fleeting value — just so much digital fish wrapping. All those carefully crafted phrases and delicious plays on words would be lost forever in the cybersphere. So I exercised my only option and bought a fountain pen with which to return some sense of permanence to my life.
I don’t know why a fountain pen occurred to me. I was the bane of our grade five class in terms of penmanship. After successfully passing through Pencil Technology 101 in grades one through four, I moved on to a stick pen and inkwell.
This is where I began a long slide into slovenliness on the page. To say my copybook was blotted is an understatement. It was chock-a-block with puddled ink, streaks, scratches — but very little resembling the written word.
Shortly after they reluctantly passed me out of that grade, they discontinued the use of the stick pen in all the schools in our system and I suspect it may have something to do with my limited abilities.
As a dismal failure using a stick pen, why a fountain pen made sense to me is beyond my ken.
Regardless, it is my shout of protest. I am not a Luddite by any stretch of the imagination. Give me a technology that will change my tax bracket and I am into that puppy in the blink of an eye.
If I were to spend a lot of time thinking about why I did this, I guess I would have to say I was looking for two things and was surprised to find a third.
Initially, I needed a technology to slow me down and make me think as I committed my thoughts to paper once again. I learned to write stories with a typewriter and as my fingers grew more dexterous, my thought became less sophisticated.
The second hole in my soul would only be filled through a search for the elegance that seems to be slipping out of our world.
Elegance is something easily definable that we no longer care to define. Can you tell the difference between a new Ford Taurus and a new Jaguar? Nope. Neither can I. Nor does one aluminum-bodied MacBook look any sleeker or sexier than another.
Marketing guys use the term elegant, but then I suspect they really don’t know what it means, nor how to achieve it. Elegance is just another word in their sales armory.
But it still exists!
Since I started scribbling with a pen that could do substantial damage to any shirt I wear, I’ve noticed I take more time with the things I do. (Right here and now, I apologize to Susan Herbert for the incident with the pen in Mr. Bradley’s grade six class). And the patience has had an unexpectedly pleasurable result.
The writing I now take my time with is tangible and a pure joy. My penmanship has become something to brag about.
My e’s contain actual loops and my a’s look as good as any third grader’s. If I write on lined paper, my sentences and paragraphs are neat and orderly. I’ve even discovered that I can make a sheet of unlined writing paper look good.
Speaking of paper, I no longer use napkins for notes. This improvement in penmanship gave me renewed confidence in the things I do, so I now have stationary (with matching envelopes) as well as garden variety paper.
A third reason occurred to me while making notes for this essay.
I am more than ever environmentally friendly. True, I discard empty ink cartridges — if the ink companies would only make them biodegradable I’d force them upon my friends by the fistful — still, I am not throwing complete pens away every time I run out of ink.
All of this gives me the great sense that I have set my little corner of the world right. I now have pride in the way I represent myself to the people I wish to communicate with and I am using something sustainable in its modest way. Yep, it takes more effort than an email, but I have never welcomed an email the way I do a handwritten letter and expect that the people I send letters to feel the same way — just a little more elegant and a little less anonymous for the day.
Photo Credits
All Photos @ Luigi Crespo
Recent Bruce Kemp Articles:
- Arguments For A Good Hat
- The Madness to Challenge Five Oceans
- Chasing the Elusive Vincy Parrots
- A Slightly Immodest Proposal
- Whose History Is It Anyway?
Hurrah for the fountain pen! I have one somewhere and am going to crack it open today in your honor, Bruce!
Lovely walk down memory lane into the future, Bruce. I suspect though, that any decision to go in search of the perfect pen will be rightfully recognized as yet another form of work avoidance and an addition to my already well documented obsession about collecting office supplies. Seriously though, a lovely piece and an inspiration to pick up that damned pen once again.
It’s lunchtime. I’m going out to buy a fountain pen and a new Moleskine notebook. 🙂
Tori – I hope you found a good one. They’re becoming more and more difficult to locate. Once you do, you will love it. – B
I couldn’t find one actually! Online search begins…
The online search, had I started there, would have yielded a blog mentioning two stores within blocks of my Vancouver office – and one within blocks of my Victoria office:
http://www.marcuslink.com/pens/storesofnote/canada.html
You never mentioned how pricey a good fountain pen can be!
I’m off to Broad street in search of a cartridge, thank you!
Bruce , how your article revived memories of eons ago, and the struggle with penmanship at an early age.But oh the pride when one received an A plus., which at that time, was a ten out of ten for we Brits..
I understand and fully applaud your decision to slow down and find the older elegance that this world itself, seemingly, has lost sight of.. Thank you for the memories this post invoked.
Are you unable to fill your pen with lovely flowing ink?
Chiarina, your pen sounds lovely and reminds me so very much of the many, many pens I have lost sight of through various stages in my life. Ahhh to return to the elegance of my youth.
Where ‘please and thank you’ were mandatory .Where fun was a yo-yo, a biff bat ,a skipping rope, a hoop to run with. Oh yes!
My wishful thinking of the day!
I hope you found a good one. They’re becoming more and more difficult to locate. Once you do, you will love it. – B
Joan, glad I could evoke something pleasurable for you. As it is, for the moment, my pen runneth over with ink. However long that will last I do not know, but I will indulge myself as long as it does. – B
Bruce, while I understand and appreciate your attachment to the handwritten word, I must voice my protest to your views on modern elegance.
Your examples of things that lack elegance today are commercial items: computers and cars. Things manufactured, marketed and sold because someone has figured out that they can make a lot of money doing so.
I agree that these lack elegance, but I argue that this is nothing new. Manufactured goods, or anything done primarily to make money, rarely attain any real grace or beauty. This is as true now as it was 50 or 100 years ago.
Whereas your own pursuit of elegance through handwriting (which I’m sure is satisfying for you to produce and enjoyed by any lucky recipients) is a fine example of what can be achieved by anyone who strives to in some way better themselves for no other reason than they love to do so. Look at marathon runners, long distance swimmers, sculptors, actors, musicians, mathematicians, and tell me that you don’t see a true grace and elegance in what they do.
I guess what I am saying (rather longwindedly) is that I disagree with the nostalgia around “elegance lost”. It was never present in things related to consumerism.
I love fountain pens! I have a gorgeous one that is silver and covered with Celtic looking markings that looks like it belongs in Elrond’s library. Now if I could just find a place to find ink cartridges for it.
Cara, Keep looking. No pen deserves to run dry. – B