Fountain Pens

I expect many people to be surprised with this post. Perhaps some who read my blog often and remember what I write will even experience a sense of deja vu. Yes, this is it. A second instalment in, a series of posts dedicated to some of my more unusual habits and likings. Perhaps, I will name these posts “My Nuances”.

While the obsession with polishing shoes date back to when I was in Secondary Two, I only grew to be accustomed to writing with a fountain pen somewhere around the very end of 2007. The story goes that the year-end vacations were so blissfully protracted that even the tranquillity found it difficult to really occupy me. It was this boredom that spurred me to dig, out of the mess that I call my room, my calligraphy pens. And how ironic can it be that the medium through which I learnt the ancient skill of penmanship was of such modern origins like the Internet! It is in front of my computer that I practised and acquired the Chancery Italic hand, because what I had at hand was a set of edged-nib pens. Due recognition to hard work and the advice from fellow calligraphy enthusiasts on the Internet, I finally managed to muster a passable excuse for an italic hand. It was alleged by many on the penmanship forums and instructional websites that the Chancery Italic hand is suitable to the “everyday needs” of most people where edged-nib fountain pens can be used instead of oblique nib holders. However, to use the type of language required for history essays, it quickly became apparent that this cumbersome albeit charming and elegant hand was more suited to the lifestyle of a retiree or someone in managerial positions instead of mine which demanded a large amount of writing to be completed in a short period of time (e.g. Humanities Test, Language Tests etc). Being a reluctant realist, I quickly practised the cursive hand according to Austin Palmer’s suggested method to bring it up to speed to face a year of studies I anticipated to require a lot of writing. And that is the story of how I grew into using cursive writing as opposed to the manuscript printing taught to us in primary school, that of boredom being a motivation. And the subsequent adoption of fountain pens was born of necessity since I felt unable to produce quality script with modern pens; the lower amount of strength and economy of ink needed to write were mere collateral benefits.

I also find it crucial to explore this point about the lack of instruction in cursive writing in our institutions of quality today. According to what I have managed to gather from family members and other resources, the cursive hand had been the everyday writing hand of individuals educated a few decades ago; while at the same time being the writing hand first taught to children with certain learning disorders instead of the conventional method of printing in childhood before switching to a cursive hand in the course of secondary education. Receiving primary education in Malaysia, there was no instruction regarding the cursive writing hand in any form, not much difference from the Singapore education system, even when one would expect the Malaysian counterpart to be less pragmatic more closely associated with traditional Western ways. In primary school, writing had been a large part of the pedagogy, mostly mindless copying of phrases and textbook articles. Personally, I cannot see any function of this mindless copying other than honing of the students’ writing (I do not subscribe to allegations that copying of phrases will commit them to conscious memory; memorising phrases and words is not the way to learn languages, exposure is.). But this apparent function of writing practice, in my opinion, constitutes a negative impact on the handwriting of the students. The large volume of writing that demands to be done often encourages students to slacken on letter forms and join the letters or characters together; without applying the widely accepted and recognised standard of a “fair hand”. This results in a pathetic hybrid between printing and cursive writing observable in the marred handwriting of many Malaysian students, mainly male ones. I was not taught this by anybody, but being the headstrong person I am, I learnt and practiced on my own and somewhat mastered it now. A fountain pen has replaced a Pilot Super Gel as my everyday pen and the edged nib pen is reserved for more formal occasions or writing demanding greater aesthetic appeal.

Once I picked up cursive writing, it felt so natural to me. Somehow, it felt like the given way to write and that I had been writing so since young (which is not true). But that is my perception. I am not sure if many people share my sentiments, but I really prefer writing to typing on a computer because the flow of the pen over paper, in a way, stimulates my creativity and thought. In my field of studies, the humanities, flair is something very important and I value it greatly. For this matter, one would naturally write with less force when using a fountain pen and thus allow the pen to actually glide across the paper in a smoother manner. Aesthetic advantages aside, there is another, more pragmatic edge of fountain pens over ballpoint pens. Among many friends of mine who uses normal ball point pens or mechanical pencils predominantly, I have observed the utilisation of great strength in writing, and the occurrence of calluses on the side of the middle finger due to the great force exerted. There is absolutely a relationship of causation here, since I used to write with a great amount of force, imprinting my words on the entire pad of paper and had calluses my finger due to the vice-like grip I used to employ. However, the transition to fountain pens signified a paradigm shift in the way I write. Somehow, I now hold my pen with minimal force and thus experience much less fatigue when writing. According to certain authorities on penmanship, a fountain pen or a calligraphy pen should be held only tightly enough to retain the pen, with the actual contact between flesh and pen being made by bringing the nib to bear on paper. In other words, the pen is resting on the paper and merely guided along by your hand. For me, this has solved a chronic problem of forearm fatigue when writing because of my old habit of crushing the pen between my fingers and maintaining wrist flexion throughout the process of writing. Of course, the smaller amount of force used in writing does not make my hand much smoother or softer to the touch since I lift heavily. But to those members of the fairer sex out there who need to write frequently, this may be a change for the better.

Well, I don’t wish to ramble any further. Many people will remain faithful to the Bics and Pilots of modern origin; but it is my intention to stick with a Sheaffer representing the cultural and economical glory of the Roaring Twenties. And with that I terminate my tale of how I came to adopt a fountain pen for everyday use.

Mid-Term Reflections

The year 2008 marks my entry into the Hwa Chong Institution Humanities Programme. In the first place, my choice to pursue a Humanities-focused academic journey was not made lightly nor thoughtlessly.

Amidst the barrage of criticism and sarcasm directed at the Humanities Programme, including the classification of its members as “muggers” or “nerds”, I indeed considered the prospects of selecting another track of study to pursue, such as the sciences. My results for the sciences had been good, even excellent by some standards since Secondary One; I was also rather interested in certain aspects of the sciences, mostly about how certain things work. I believe that had I chose to read science in my upper secondary years, I would have survived well, perhaps coping even better than what I am doing now in the Humanities Programme. As I look back upon the time when I was making my decisions for Special Programmes option, it occurs to me that how close I came to making a bungle out of it. While I love to spend my time reading up about the scientific explanation for certain phenomena or certain properties exhibited by certain objects, I have since discovered that my interest does not extend beyond the very surface. For instance, I am highly interested in the workings of the bullet-proof vest, how does such a thin layer of material can so easily insulate a person against a round of brass travelling at terminal velocity? But telling me that the high tensile strength of Kevlar further reinforced with the twisting of the fibres would suffice. Information about the chemical properties of Kevlar or the formula to derive the strength gained by twisting would be lost on me. Such an attitude towards the study of science would not be very conducive to the kind of in-depth and detailed analysis the science guys are used to.

As one poet whose name I fail to recall so aptly put it: The pursuits of the scientific, mathematical and logical disciplines are all great pursuits, they keep us alive; However, the beauty of the arts, music, literature and the humanities are what we stay alive for. It was a very brief glimpse I had of this particular piece of literary work, so brief that the poet’s name was not noted. But such was the gravity and force of this statement that reached out so much to me that I remembered the essence of it till today. This is a view that I identify very much with. Not to say that the scientific people do not appreciate this or that they are inferior; it would be better to say that they are the noble ones who keep us alive while I am the selfish one who enjoys life. Had I chose to read science, I may not have to stay up so late for so many days; nor would I have to plough through so many profound readings; nor would I have to miss so many recess periods.

Life could perhaps be described as hard, even cruel, by many people. But I am enjoying it! For me, I seek satisfaction in everything I pursue. And that is the prime motivation for me to strive hard in everything I set out to do, as more is achieved, higher achievements are required to give me the kick. From such a perspective, the decision I made to enter the Humanities Programme does not only signify a turning point in my academic studies, but also a turning point in the way I live my life.

At this point, I feel the need to mention one very significant event that happened just a few days ago. 1^st April is designated Projects’ Day Preliminary Judging for the year 2008. For the first time since the first time I set foot in Hwa Chong Institution as a student, I am doing submitting two projects for judging this year, not including the mandatory Humanities Research Paper which I did not submit. And it was not with the nonchalant, indifferent, otherwise known as “bo-chap” attitude that I undertook the commitment of three concurrent research projects. Also for the first time, I actually dedicated so much of my time to these projects! In Secondary One, it was the disinterest that resulted from a project that I would call mundane and insignificant; In Secondary Two it was the sheer amount of slack I cut myself that resulted in the pathetic excuse for a project of mine to fail both the preliminary round and the second preliminary round. Somehow, I managed to find the drive and motivation to seriously commit to a project; perhaps it was the assimilation shock from the Humanities Programme or perhaps it was the introduction of extremely academically inclined and competitive people around me, but it certainly boosted my morale and ignited a flame deep down inside me. A passion for whatever I set out to do. Possibly also due in part to the nature of the projects I undertake this year, I feel much more empowered and able to develop them. For once since Secondary One, I actually feel confident that something positive will come out of my projects. Not just that, but the sensation of the fiery conflagration of passion within is extremely satisfying indeed. Again, like the choice for a rigorous course of academic study in the Humanities, all the late nights and the long days are well worth it, just for the passion and enthusiasm derived.

On another plane, there are also rather great changes for me in terms of my EP3 (formerly CCA). For those faithful readers of my blog, you would have seen the post last year on the Ong Teng Cheong performance. It seems that the spirit of that particular performance had extended itself to this year. In spite of all the academic commitments that I have to fulfil, I still prioritise Chinese Drama over many other things. A case in point can be found in the ongoing Humanities Youth Research Symposium. The initial justification for not applying was due to the planned performance in Hong Kong, which was cancelled. Mr. Samuel Lim actually asked if anybody wants to participate in the symposium for a second time, after I was informed of the cancellation of the Hong Kong trip, but I expressed no interest despite this being a good chance for exposure and building up of my portfolio. However, the calling of responsibility towards the short play we are putting up for national competition overwhelmingly compelled me to pass this rare opportunity off. I knew it would be a quixotic bid to apply for the symposium and attempt to juggle it with drama rehearsals; only one could be chosen, and that one, was Chinese Drama. The camaraderie in the Chinese Drama Club is, to a large extent, virulent; so much so that the Secondary One batch were already caught up in the spirit and participating with zest in our activities. And this choice is one that I have not regretted, and I am now well-primed to dive right into the chaos of national competition. Those of you who are fortunate enough to secure a seat in the smallest theatre I have performed in to date, you would be able to see first-hand the results of our toiling for almost a month of daily rehearsals. For the others, there will be updates as soon as its over.