The Missing Ink Page 19

  17 Raj Persaud, ‘Writing wrongs’, Guardian, 10 February 2005.

  18 Irene Marcuse, p.67.

  19 Dorothy Sara, Handwriting Analysis for the Millions.

  23. NOT BEING ABLE TO READ: PROUST

  1 Proust, In the Shade of Young Girls in Bloom.

  2 Proust, Selected Letters, vol IV, ed. Philip Kolb, p.96.

  3 Ibid, p.392.

  4 Céleste Albaret, Monsieur Proust, p.188.

  5 Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah.

  6 Proust, Letters, vol. 4, pp.77–8.

  7 Proust, In the Shade of Young Girls in Bloom.

  8 Proust, The Fugitive.

  9 Proust, In the Shade of Young Girls in Bloom.

  10 Ibid.

  11 Ibid.

  12 Proust, The Fugitive.

  13 Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah.

  14 Proust, The Prisoner.

  15 Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah.

  16 Proust, The Walk by Swann’s House.

  17 Ibid.

  18 Proust, The Fugitive.

  19 Proust, The Guermantes Walk.

  20 Proust, Time Found Again.

  21 Proust, The Fugitive.

  22 Céleste Albaret, Monsieur Proust, p.199

  23 Proust, The Walk by Swann’s House.

  24 Proust, The Fugitive.

  25 Ibid.

  26 Proust, The Walk by Swann’s House.

  27 Proust, The Fugitive.

  28 Ibid.

  29 Proust, The Walk by Swann’s House.

  30 Ibid.

  31 Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah.

  32 Proust, Time Found Again.

  33 Céleste Albaret, Monsieur Proust, pp.270–1.

  24. GISSA JOB, SIEGMUND

  1 Niall Ferguson, High Financier, p.421.

  2 ‘For More Employers, the Scrawl is All’; Washington Post, 14 July 1989.

  3 Raj Persaud, ‘Writing wrongs’, Guardian, 10 February 2005.

  4 By Levy, cited in Ben-Shakhar.

  5 Adrian Bangerter, Cornelius J. Konig, Sandrine Blatti and Alexander Salvisberg, ‘How Widespread is Graphology in Personnel Selection Practice? A Case Study of a Job Market Myth’ International Jounral of Selection and Assessment, 17, 2 June 2009.

  6 Private Eye, July 1970, quoted in Niall Ferguson, High Financier.

  7 Ferguson, High Financier. p.419.

  8 Ibid, pp.306–7.

  26. BIROS AND NOT-BIROS

  1 E.g. http://www.mendoza.edu.ar/efemerid/l_biro.htm, retrieved 10 November 2011.

  2 Stephen Bayley, ‘Marcel Bich’, obituary, The Independent, 2 June 1994.

  3 Ibid.

  4 From Bic’s corporate website, http://www.bicworld.com

  5 ‘La Très Véritable Histoire du stylo Bic’, images by Christian Rossi, scenario by Xavier Seguin, Okapi number 307, 1984.

  6 Letter from Marcel Bich to shareholders, 1978.

  7 Alfred Fairbank, The Story of Handwriting, p.85.

  8 Reginald Piggott, Handwriting: A National Survey, p.147.

  9 Nicolete Gray, ‘Away from the signs of the times, and back to a fair script’, The Times, 2 December 1977.

  Bibliography

  Céleste Albaret. Monsieur Proust. London 1976.

  Adrian Bangerter, Cornelius J. Konig, Sandrine Blatti and Alexander Salvisber. ‘How Widespread is Graphology in Personnel Selection Practice? A Case Study of a Job Market Myth’. International Journal of Selection and Assessment 17, 2009.

  Princess Anatole Marie Bariatinsky. Character as Revealed by Handwriting. London, 1924.

  Rosa Baughan. Character Indicated by Handwriting. London, 1919.

  George Bickham. The Universal Penman. London, 1743.

  Wilfrid Blunt. Sweet Roman Hand. London, 1952.

  Lord Chesterfield. Letters Written to his Son. Oxford, 1890.

  Edward Cocker. The Pen’s Triumph. London, 1658.

  Charles Dickens. Bleak House. Oxford, 1979.

  ——– David Copperfield. Oxford, 1981.

  ——– Great Expectations. Oxford, 1993.

  ——– Little Dorrit. Oxford, 1979.

  ——– Nicholas Nickleby. Oxford, 2008.

  ——– The Old Curiosity Shop. Oxford, 1997.

  ——– Our Mutual Friend. Oxford, 2008.

  ——– The Pickwick Papers. Oxford, 1986.

  Mark Dunn. Ella Minnow Pea. London, 2001.

  Alfred Fairbank. The Story of Handwriting. London, 1970.

  Niall Ferguson. High Financier. London, 2010.

  Steven Roger Fischer. A History of Writing. London, 2010.

  Kitty Burns Florey. Script and Scribble. New York, 2009.

  Sigmund Freud. The Psychopathology of Everyday Life. London, 1948.

  Henry Gordon. Handwriting and How To Teach It. London, ca.1875.

  Tom Gourdie. Italic Handwriting. London, 1955.

  Robert Harris. Selling Hitler. London, 1986.

  Charles Hindley. A History of the Cries of London. London, 1881.

  Donald Jackson. The Story of Writing. New York, 1981.

  Edward Johnston. Writing, Illuminating and Lettering. London, 1918.

  Priscilla Johnston. Edward Johnston. London, 1959.

  Stephen Kurdsen. Reading Character from Handwriting. Newton Abbott, 1971.

  Zachary Leader. The Life of Kingsley Amis. London, 2006.

  Irene Marcuse. Guide to the Disturbed Personality Through Handwriting. New York, 1969.

  Alfred O. Mendel. Personality in Handwriting. New York, 1947.

  Nadya Olyanova. Handwriting Tells. London, 1969.

  A. N. Palmer. Palmer’s Guide to Business Writing. Cedar Rapids, 1894.

  Reginald Piggott. Handwriting: a National Survey. London, 1955.

  Paul R. Pope. ‘Deutsche oder Lateinische Schrift?’. The German Quarterly, May 1931.

  Marcel Proust. In Search of Lost Time. London, 2002.

  ——– Selected Letters (London, 1983–2000)

  Max Pulver. Symbolik der Handschrift. Zurich, 1930.

  Marion Richardson. Writing and Writing Patterns: Teacher’s Book. London, 1933.

  Billie Pesin Rosen. The Science of Handwriting Analysis. New York, 1965.

  Dominic Sandbrook. Seasons in the Sun. London, 2012.

  Dorothy Sara. Handwriting Analysis for the Millions. New York, 1967.

  Eric Singer. A Manual of Graphology. London, 1969.

  J. T. Smith. Nollekens and His Times. London 1829.

  H. C. Spencer. Spencerian Key to Practical Penmanship. New York, 1869.

  Anthony Summers and Robbyn Swan. The Eleventh Day. London, 2011.

  Elizabeth Taylor. Blaming. London, 1976.

  Tamara Plakins Thornton. Handwriting in America. New Haven, 1976.

  Evelyn Waugh. Decline and Fall. London, 2011.

  Gerhard Weinberg. ‘Hitler’s Memorandum on the Four Year Plan: A Note’. German Studies Review, February 1988.

  ——– ‘Hitler’s Private Testament of May 2nd, 1938’. The Journal of Modern History, December 1955.

  Joyce Irene Whalley. Writing Impements and Accessories. Newton Abbott, 1975.

  Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle. Molesworth. London, 2000.

  Picture and Text Acknowledgements

  The author and publisher would like to thank the following for permission to reproduce the images and text used in this book:

  here Gordon Brown’s handwriting © Rex Features; here Elizabeth I’s handwriting and signature © Private collection / The Bridgeman Art Library; here Bill of Lading reprinted courtesy of The Granger Collection / Topfoto; here Handwriting by G. Brooks ‘Musick’ from The Universal Penman, George Bickham, 1743, reprinted courtesy of Mary Evans Picture Library / Interfoto Agentur; here Spencerian handwriting chart reprinted courtesy of Just Write Studios; here Carstairs’ System, taken from Handwriting of the Twentieth Century by Rosemary Sassoon, reprinted courtesy of Intellect; here sample from Henry Gordon’s Handwriting and How To Teach It, taken from Handwriting of the Twentieth Century by Rosemary Sassoon, reprinted cour
tesy of Intellect; here Uncial hand from Preface to the Gospel of St. Mark, from the Lindisfarne Gospels, © British Library Board / The Bridgeman Art Library; here Sample from Vere Foster Copy Books: Two, reprinted courtesy of the British Library; here Civil Service hand from The Theory and Practice of Handwriting by John Jackson, reprinted courtesy of the British Library; here Extract from the notebook of Sergeant Con Keeler (LAPD), © Don and Kathy Irvine; here Extract from manuscript of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, reprinted courtesy of The Granger Collection / Topfoto; here Charles Dickens’s signature, © Private Collection / Ken Walsh / The Bridgeman Art Library; here text and images from How to be Topp by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle, © The Sayle Literary Agency; here Handwriting sample reprinted courtesy of Caroline Craig; here Sütterlin script reprinted courtesy of Andreas Praefcke; here Page from Hitler’s diary reprinted courtesy of HO / STERN / AP / Press Association Images; here Handwriting sample reprinted courtesy of Dan Fenton; here ‘Meeting in Winter’ by William Morris © Victoria and Albert Museum, London / V&A Images; here Sample from A New Handwriting for Teachers by Monica Bridges reprinted courtesy of the Thomas Cooper Library, University of South Carolina; here Joseph Gillott’s pen advert © The Art Archive / Amoret Tanner Collection; here Marion Richardson alphabet reprinted courtesy of the British Library; here Exercise taken from Writing and Writing Patterns Book 4 by Marion Richardson, reprinted courtesy of the British Library; here Edgar Allan Poe signature reprinted courtesy of The Granger Collection / Topfoto; here Bic advert reprinted courtesy of Bic®

  Endnotes

  * Alternatively, he might have been a foreign spy. In the Alberto Cavalcanti film Went The Day Well?, the innocent English villagers first suspect that the platoon foisted on them may actually be German Nazis when they notice that their notes on a poker game cross the 7’s.

  * Often these are termed ‘Greek E’s’ – the ones with a crescent-shaped back – but uncial is a more accurate source. Uncial is the term for the rounded calligraphy characteristic of early mediaeval monasteries (see Chapter 7).

  † There may be men in the world with a heart-shaped jot, as the dot over the i is called, but I have yet to meet one, or run a mile from them, rather.

  * You remove the plug and ink reservoir, then apply the mouth to the writing end with the spit ball at the plug end, but you know that already.

  * It’s still waiting.

  † The familiar QWERTY arrangement of the keyboard was chosen, not for its efficiency, but the opposite. The first users of the typewriter needed an arrangement which would slow users down, in order that the levers would not jam.

  * Marx, who saw and foresaw most things, outdoes himself by remarking that the history of civilization is entirely down to human beings possessing opposable thumbs. It was impressive to guess that sooner or later men would invent a way of writing that required only the movement of the thumbs.

  † But how will it know whether you’re shouting at it or at your annoying little brother?

  * I’ve just bought a new laptop, and this one has keys virtually flush with the casing, with nowhere for anything to fall. So that reduces the list to one computer-based ritual.

  * Kodak would probably still be going if Americans learnt to write legibly, I dare say.

  * Who, I warn you, might say she regards handwriting and grammar as a lost art, but evidently knows eff-all about the dangling participle.

  * Oh, crap. Seriously, what crap. When have handwriting lessons prevented children from learning to read and write, or ‘literacy skills’, in this moron’s horrible jargon? How the effing eff could they? What likelihood is there that you’re going to be allowed to introduce handwriting lessons to the extent of ‘impacting’ on anything at all in a twenty-first-century Scottish school? Is he seriously suggesting that children were less literate in an age when handwriting lessons lasted half an hour? Jesus, sometimes you really want to give up.

  * Here’s a thing. You’re driving down an Indiana track when out of no where comes a tractor into the side of your Subaru. How do you exchange details? Neither of you have ever been able to write anything but your own names. The farmhand don’t be holding with them thar smart phones nor with that new-fangled Internet. (Or he does, but the battery on your smartphone has died a death – take your pick of disastrous scenarios). So there the two of you stand, helpless, in an Indiana field, trying to work out which way up to hold a pen and cursing the idiotic name of Dr Scott Hamilton who landed you in this mess.

  * I wrote a book on the subject, The Mulberry Empire.

  * ‘What does emeritus mean, Rupert?’ Frank Giles asked Rupert Murdoch after being turned into Editor Emeritus of The Times after one egregious catastrophe under his editorial stewardship. ‘It’s Latin, Frank,’ the proprietor said. ‘The e- means you’re out. The meritus means you deserve it.’

  * Still can’t (2011). My weakness, never surmounted, is ‘Peloponnese’, a place I’ve been to half a dozen times, have written articles about, and still had to go and look up just now and copy out letter by letter.

  † So far.

  * Isambard Kingdom Brunel realized that there could hardly be a timetable of trains between London and Bristol if Bristol were ten minutes behind – or ahead, I forget which.

  * Kitty Burns Florey, Script and Scribble, p.71. There’s a photograph of the seven-foot monolith there, if you can face it.

  * These restrictions went on much longer than you might think. My sister, born in 1962, was subjected to deportment classes at a Kingston-upon-Thames grammar school in 1973-4 which required her to walk around a room with a book on her head – she won a prize for it, indeed.

  * Now I think of it, Mrs Clark of 2Cl might have been a closet Bickhamite, though my marginal ducks were never going to satisfy her, artistically.

  * Definition: a ‘looped’ alphabet would return along a different path in the upper portions, or ascenders, of the lower-case letters b, d, h, k, l, t, and the lower portions, or descenders, of the letters g, j, p, q, y, and both ascenders and descenders of the letter f, thus forming an enclosed loop. An unlooped letter will either return along the same path, forming a line, or will just go one way.

  † Dresden.

  * Sometimes. The DA was quite big among the bolder sort of lesbian in Notting Hill clubs, I’m reliably informed.

  * Queen Victoria detested him, partly because he once burst into the bedroom of one of her ladies-in-waiting in the unfulfilled hope of seducing the poor girl.

  † Palmerston must be classed with Churchill as the only two prime ministers with any gift at all for metaphor – Churchill, who once described the meeting of minds on the appointment of a particularly saturnine individual to the Treasury as Chancellor of the Exchequer as resembling the joyous reunion of two long-separated kindred lizards.

  * Had people heard of him already by then? Or was Palmer just the sort of man who would always include his name in the title of his first book? My dad used to play the French horn in a wind band called the Lucas Wind Ensemble, named after the conductor, a man named Lucas, who was well-known for having named his own wind ensemble after himself, a man, as I say, called Lucas.

  * Oklahoma! I don’t know whether the Spencerian society can see these skyscrapers from their suite, or indeed whether the buildings that so impressed the visiting Curly still stand.

  † In rather a different area, the aging Henry James gave up handwriting altogether, and took to dictating his novels – a shift in efficiency which enabled him to write his last three novels, The Ambassadors, The Wings of the Dove and The Golden Bowl, in successive years, 1902, 1903, 1904. We don’t think of Henry James as an epitome of speed, rather as H.G. Wells’s caricature in Boon, an elephant struggling to pick up a pea with his forelegs, but the feat of writing the three most involved novels in the language so rapidly surely stands with the internal combustion engine and the Wright Brothers’ invention as a sign of the period’s devotion to efficient speed. James scholars disagree about the moment when he t
ook to dictation, but most people think it was at some point during What Maisie Knew – the madder sort of Jamesian will identify the exact chapter for you on stylistic grounds.

  * A derivative of Palmer’s methods.

  * I developed it after writing a 300,000 word novel by hand, with inefficient and un-Palmerian movements, and then rewriting it from beginning to end, twice, on a laptop, between 2003 and 2007.

  * By ‘finals’ the author means those elaborate flourishes which, even in Palmer, conclude a word with a little kick in the air, to no very obvious purpose. It’s striking that many efficient writers in Palmer cursive have a decided tendency to link one word to the next, encouraged by these elaborate finals.

  * At least as old as Swift’s amusing but rather offensive comment in Gulliver’s Travels about the writing of the Lilliputians: ‘Their manner of writing is very peculiar, being neither from the left to the right, like the Europeans; nor from the right to the left like the Arabians; nor from up to down, like the Chinese; nor from down to up, like the Cascagians; but aslant from one Corner of the Paper to the other, like Ladies in England.’ (Gulliver’s Travels, Book 1, Chapter 6.)

  † I love Dickens’s exactness of physical observation. This motion of a nervous writer is as beautifully seen as the moment in David Copperfield, praised by Claire Tomalin, when David, trying to gain the attention of the woman he knows is his aunt, Betsey Trotwood, lays a timid finger on her forearm.

  * Again, the exactness of observation. I had a student in a class – not a very brilliant one – only last week who, taking notes, rested the side of her head on the table, the better to push her pen across the page.

  † That was probably what happened to the style propagated by Bickham in the end – elaborate pen fantasies, indulged to impress credulous parents by terrible schools.

  * But who, in the whole of the nineteenth century, ever made their o round? It is always an elongated leaning egg-shape.

  * The report is wincingly titled ‘Une Question de Writing?’ A research project commissioned by the Teacher Training Agency.

  * This is not just a French principle. I heard of a lady called Liora Laufer who has set up an exercise class in Charlottesville, Virginia, USA, called ‘callirobics’. ‘The word combines calligraphy and aerobics . . . the idea is to improve handwriting skills by using a series of repetitive hand movements set to music. We have programs for ages 4 through 80.’ It makes me want to buy a leotard.