Friday, August 5, 2011

...And As It Writes, Moves On

I was having lunch with some friends the other day. One of these friends brought a bag of books with him which he was passing along to another member of our happy little group. The recipient of the books (a retired judge - a very fine one too - and a huge fan of Flannery O'Connor) announced that he had read 74 books this year (I thought I detected a certain melancholy in his voice at having so much time on his hands after leaving the bench) and he was quite pleased to have some new ones in his reading queue. The conversation began with books - what each of us was reading, what we had just finished - but wandered inevitably to politics - a subject which usually gives me indigestion and not, to my mind, a fit topic over lunch - which eventually settled into a discussion about the present state of our educational system - a topic which gives me heartburn - and then gradually, but inevitably, meandered into what schools used to teach but no longer do.

And so the litany began: "Music," decried one. "Civics," another. "Spelling," said a third. "Penmanship," I offered. Three sets of steely, wise old eyes turned toward me, and a quiet descended as my lunch companions pondered penmanship. "I haven't even heard the word, penmanship, in decades," one murmured. "We used to call it cursive writing," mused another. I had recently downloaded "Not That It Matters," by A.A. Milne, a collection of essays; and, as luck would have it, had just finished reading, "The Pleasure of Writing." This lovely serendipity filled me with a certain smug self-assurance that I could contribute something semi-intelligent to the conversation (for I was in the company of some very heavy-duty thinkers.)

"Milne," said I, "wrote about his joy in going straight from breakfast to his blotting-paper and a fresh piece of foolscap and brand new pen nib." They listened, perhaps only politely, but perhaps interested in what A.A. Milne had to say about the act of putting pen to paper. "He said, 'When poets and idiots talk of the pleasure of writing, they mean the pleasure of giving a piece of their minds to the public; with an old nib a tedious business'." The attention of my luncheon companions seemingly secured, I continued. "He wrote that they do not mean, as he did, the pleasure of the artist in seeing beautifully shaped "k's" and sinuous "s's" grow beneath his pen nib...or how a new sheet of paper filled itself magically with a stream of blue-black words." Silence for a few moments. I was depressing everyone, I feared. "Cursive writing is lost, I'm afraid," said the judge, sadly shaking his head and raising his martini glass. I think I saw a glint of a tear.

We sat quietly contemplating how wrong things had gone and how fast they had gotten there. I wished I had never mentioned penmanship, never started the conversation going in the direction of the lost art of letter writing, of the laziness of saying OMG, or IMHO, or LOL instead of using a correct sentence. The gist of the conversation rocked along those lines, and I began to feel like an old stick in the mud. Someone who doesn't know who - well, here I was going to insert the name of some rock group, proving I was totally "cool." But I can't think of one, so I guess I prove my own point. Trying to turn the mood around, I pulled out my Kindle and pointed out how incredible it was to be able to download an entire library into one slim device. How lovely is technology! We didn't have technology back in the penmanship days. "Why can't we have both?" someone replied. We sat in silence for a little while longer. Another round of drinks came, and then lunch.

We were eating at an inn that is centuries old, in the part of the building that used to be the vast wine cellar, with its walls and arched doorways of red brick. The tables are set with heavy silver and linen table cloths and napkins. There was a time when, to get a table for lunch, one had to arrive well before noon. But on this day, my three companions and I dined alone. We worried that perhaps this lovely old inn might one day simply fade away. Perhaps, like penmanship, it must make way for something else.

14 comments:

  1. What a wonderful group of friends and a lovely lunch you had in spite of the depressing turn to the conversation. I don't think penmenship is completely lost. I think there is a small niche of people who still care if that is any consolation.

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  2. It was lovely, Stefanie, although I should not have had the Fried Green Tomato BLT with goat cheese and chutney. Not to put too fine a point on it, what sounded intriguing on the menu lost something in the translation. The martinis, however, were splendid.

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  3. In the bookshop today, one of our volunteers had done this gorgeous sign in chalk for the little display we'd put together of 'books from a child's point of view'. So at least one person I know still has some formidable penmanship skills! I do like the idea of keeping both technology and the old crafts and skills. It's hardly progress if we let beautiful human talents go to waste.

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  4. I have beautiful penmanship, but I know that it is a dying art. That is how it should be; it's no longer an important skill, and it should now be taught like caligraphy, as beautiful but not practical.

    A lovely essay.

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  5. Litlove, I was trying to think of situations when people are required to write more than their names. Few people use checks, they use debit cards, e-mail has taken the place of post, and few keep a journal (what we older folks used to call a diary), so I am always happy to hear that penmanship survives someplace.

    Deb, my penmanship, although I would not say it is beautiful, is very distinctive. Hopefully, it says something about me. I've tried to change it, but the old me keeps creeping back in. One thing I insist upon is that it is readable. I wish caligraphy was taught in school as well.

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  6. I love lunches like that, where the conversation roams over everything under the sun. I'm envious, I would have loved to have been part of it. I don't now the Milne and must look it up straight away. Have you read Virginia Woolf's diaries? Getting the write nib was a real issue for her.

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  7. I haven't read any Virginia Woolf...I am ashamed to admit. A.A. Milne waxed poetic about the quality of his pen nibs. He loved the physical act of writing. It had a grace to it for him.

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  8. How wonderfully descriptive you are!! I felt like I was right there, listening in. And what a fascinating lunch to listen in at. :) I lament the loss of certain subjects in schools, too, especially since those certain subjects always seem to be the ones touching on beauty. Penmanship seems an endangered art. I remember envying the graceful lines my mother could come out with (as opposed to my attempts; cursive writing was given only cursory attention at my school). The fact that there are less and less people who can use a pen to pleasing effect just saddens me.

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  9. Inkslinger, I still try to use a fountain pen whenever I can. We learned cursive by using them and it was always such fun. My handwriting is distinctive, and readable, but I wish it was beautiful as well. If you learned penmanship at the turn of the 1900s, you usually had pretty nice handwriting. Of course, you also were getting around with a horse and buggy...so progress is progress, I guess. And I wish you could have joined us for lunch!

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  10. Noooooooooo the old inns must live on forever, or we'll all be stuck drinking in chain pubs everywhere. It's so ncie to travel a little way away from home to find some old one off place.

    I've got to say I don't have fond memories of handwriting lessons at school because they used to be taken by our Deputy Head (we did not enjoy our time with him), but I do own a caligraphy set and am determined to try creating beauitful letters in beautiful inks some day soon.

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  11. Jodie, the best thing about this particular inn is that it is famously and fabulously...haunted! Yes! It is a very cozy place, with roaring fireplaces in the winter, and cobblestoned floors, no wonder ghosts want to stay and stay!! Oh, and be sure to crack open that caligraphy set.

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  12. Sigh. Coincidentally, I just gave my college students a lecture about how they do not have the "right" to use handwriting so slurred or tiny that their teacher cannot read it....As a writer, I value the very formation of words. Maybe my students are all future doctors?

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  13. Shelley, Ha! Doctors or lawyers! Unfortunately, so much is done on the keyboard, young people just aren't taught to write by hand. One's handwriting should, at the very least, be legible (even if it isn't beautiful).

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  14. Graddikins, sorry I am so late to this post, but coincidentally I have been discussing penmanship recently myself... though not as eloquently as you! May I remind you that you do have a pen pal on the other side of the world who is very keen to keep up the old even as we embrace the new?! It's horribly sad to think of something like calligraphy becoming a lost art, but even just elementary cursive seems to me especially precious in these days of tablets and iPads.

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