Fear of the Dip Pen Nib!

[eachan]

When I was in school (a very long time ago) we wrote with pencils at first. Then, at the age of seven, we were introduced to the joy of writing with a dip pen. I didn't do well with that! Perhaps my touch was too heavy. In any case, the nib, which was very pointed, would dig into the paper and send a spray of blots across the page.

Our teacher, who had been trained in the School of Sadism, indicated her displeasure with a crack across the knuckles with the edge of a ruler. My hand, now paralysed with pain, did not do a better job. The result was that any mention of dip pens brought on an attack of post-traumatic stress, to this very day!

Some time ago I bought a charming little wooden pen box which held a somewhat chewed dip pen and a tiny wooden box of nibs, some used, others in an unused condition. I of course put them away and tried not to think of them again.

This afternoon, fortified with a couple of stiff drams of Laphroaig, I daringly attached one of the nibs - an Esterbrook Relief - to the holder and found, to my great surprise, that I could actually write with the thing. There were some very pointed nibs too, and with great daring, I tried one of those. In the absence of Mrs. Stuart and her punishment ruler, I was able to apply a very light touch and found that I could write with this delightfully flexible nib too. The experience has been cathartic and I have, at the age of 70, been able to banish the ghost of my hideous old teacher who made my life such a misery when I was seven. May she rest in peace.