[antoniosz]

I am sure several of you will enjoy this thorough review of the early developments in field of writing instruments:

From the Journal of the Society of Arts: Three 'Cantor' lectures given by James.P.Maginnis in early 1905 on 'Reservoir Fountain Pens and Stylographic Pens'. (1) Ancient Writing Instruments, (2) Stylographic Pens and Manufacture of Gold Pens (3) Fountain Pens. (4 MB)

Thank you Google.

PS> Gerry, it might be a good idea to pin this one.

This post has been edited by antoniosz: 07 June 2008 - 02:38 AM

[ignatz49]

Very interesting. Thank you, antoniosz.

[diplomat]

Thank you very much Antonio (& Google) for bringing this to our attention. It is a very enjoyable reading with some outstanding drawings.

It is striking that the lever filler, which I associate with old pens, was a future development, not really foreseeable from the paper. Then Mr Sheaffer's got some drops of genius!

Thanks,

[Peter from Sherwood Park]

Thank you -- this is a fascinating reference!

[twdpens]

To celebrate 100 years since Maginnis gave his lecture, WES President Dr Geoff Roe presented "Ink Reservoir Writing Instruments 1905 - 2005" (Transactions of the Newcomen Society, volume 77, number 1, 2007). You can buy a copy from the WES Online Shop (sorry, members only).

HTH,

Martin

[Nibble]

I am enjoying Edith Wharton The Age of Innocence and came across this reference to an early wiring instrument in chapter XXIII

Newland Archer, a wealthy New Yorker has married a very beautiful girl from a grand NY family. They are spending part of the summer near Newport, but Archer finds himself attracted to a married woman he knew before he was married. He escapes to Boston and meets Madame Olenska (she is still married, but separated from a European nobleman).

Needing to write a note while they are in a park, Archer lends Madame Olenska a writing instrument:

"You can write here." He drew out a note-case and one of the new stylographic pens. "I've even got a envelope—you see how everything is predestined! There—steady the thing on your knee, and I'll get the pen going in a second. They have to be humoured; wait—" He banged the hand that held the pen against the back of the bench. "It's like jerking down the mercury in a thermometer: just a trick. Now try—"
She laughed, and bending over the sheet of paper which he had laid on his note-case, began to write. Archer walked away a few steps, staring with radiant unseeing eyes at the passers-by, who, in their turn, paused to stare at the unwonted sight of a fashionably-dressed lady writing a note on her knee on a bench in the Common.

Hmm. There'll be trouble...