Taking stock: a few thoughts on the pen collecting journey.

I have been reflecting a bit lately, on the state of my fountain pen collection (or accumulation) and journey and whether the process follows a common pattern. Am I on the same path that others have trod and if so, where does it lead? This has been prompted by thoughtful posts that I have read recently, from Inkophile My Wishlist And The Desire To Acquire and from UK fountain pens Going on a diet (recalibrating to smaller, cheaper pens).

I keep a simple database of my pens, using an app called Memento, with a few details including the make, model, date purchased and price paid. I also add a record of inks used and a few other general notes. I usually have the list sorted by date of purchase so that I can easily see the most recently added. But the list can easily be re-ordered alphabetically or by price paid.

Going by price paid, I looked back at my list, currently sporting 225 pens, and was struck by how few I had bought costing more than £100.00. There were only around 20. And most of those cost between £100.00 and £200.00. There were only four costing me more than £200.00, namely a Parker Duofold International, Delta Fantasia Vintage, Pelikan M800 and a Montblanc Classique. I do have some other superb pens including Pilots and Montblancs which I have not included as they were received as gifts.

This means that I have a large number of cheap and modestly priced pens, including the ubiquitous offerings from Cross, Lamy, Parker, Sheaffer and Waterman, quite a few duplicates plus a good number of Chinese pens. Perhaps all these should not count, on my list. Yet the Wing Sung 601 is one of my favourite pens and cost only around £11.

A coming significant birthday means that I have now had an interest in fountain pens for 50 years. This has been spurred on in recent years by the internet thanks to YouTube video reviews, blogs and internet shopping. It is ironic that when I was a ten year old, a fountain pen was a necessary tool whereas now as an adult the pen has become a toy. I still use my pens every day but no-one needs 200. Does there come a stage in life when the desire to have less belongings takes over from the desire to have more?

I did not set out to become a fountain pen collector. I do not see myself as a collector. I have not tried to buy rare pens as collector’s items or gone about filling in gaps. Rather, for many of the relatively more expensive pens that I bought over the decades, the aim was for it to be a new “best” pen, a special lifelong companion. This can be said particularly of pens which were, at the time, the most expensive that I had bought, such as Parker 75, a Sheaffer Connoisseur or the Pelikan M800. The aim was to have a pen that would be long lasting, reliable, of good quality and something to enjoy owning and to take pride in. Not all pens fit this category of course and others, such as Lamy Safaris, were bought to give unflashy service at work. Although I do not know why I have them in so many colours.

A by-product of this mentality, if you keep repeating the process of trying new and promising pens without also selling or giving away the old ones, is that you build up an accumulation of pens, many of which may be no longer used.

Those with sufficient will power and determination to outweigh the sentimental attachment, carefully prune their accumulations as they go along. I have neglected this. Others may reach a stage of realising that they have too many pens that they are not using or likely to use and feel a desire to move them on. I have been extremely fortunate to have received some of my most valuable pens in this way. So is this a natural step, of going from increasing the accumulation, to reducing it? I read in an Instagram Q&A from SBRE Brown this weekend, that he once had around 300 pens but has now reduced his number to about 20.

For a fountain pen enthusiast, buying a new pen is exciting and enjoyable and let’s face it, addictive. But there comes a point when you realise, perhaps later than you should in my case, that having increased your number of pens, the result of adding more may be to dilute the use and enjoyment that you have from your existing ones and to be counterproductive. Also, with experience we should become better armed at identifying what we like and do not like, resisting temptation and distinguishing “need” versus “want”.

Perhaps a beautiful pen is like a beautiful landscape view: we do not need to see every one there is. The uplifting effect of one is enough.

It seems obvious but thought should be given when buying a pen, as to what it offers that your existing pens do not and whether it will really be any better. But manufacturers design pens to be attractive and to sell and make profits. I do not think we should beat ourselves up too much if we succumb to the appeal.

What we find comfortable to spend on this hobby will differ from person to person. The question of whether a pen represents good value is complicated and difficult to gauge objectively. It may depend partly upon the amount of use it gets. Whether a pen is good value and whether you have good value from it, are different things.

A pen wish-list is a useful tool. If a pen takes my fancy, (say, the Diplomat Aero or the Lamy Imporium, for current examples), it is a good exercise to add it to the list and compare its appeal against others already on the list. Also, leaving a pen parked on the wish-list for a while helps to weed out those which are just fleeting fantasies or to be overtaken by later desires. It is better to go off a pen while it is still on the wish-list, than when you have bought it. How many times have we bought an exciting new pen, only to have our heads turned by something else, within weeks of its arrival? Which is my favourite pen? My next one.

A good fountain pen is a wonderful thing. The act of writing in itself is pleasurable, to see and feel the nib gliding effortlessly over the paper and leaving a line of glistening fresh ink in its wake. And then there is the satisfaction of using the pen for developing, organising, expressing and recording our thoughts – perhaps not well enough in today’s piece.

At the end of the day, is it all rather frivolous to have a passion for fountain pens? At times, when the stresses of life become unpleasant, it might seem so. But happily at those same times, there is a real benefit to be had from having a hobby which provides relaxation and enjoyment. It is then that the thought of getting out a particular pen and pairing it with a particular ink, can have restorative benefits. Now, I wonder, how would Robert Oster Aqua go with my orange Leonardo Furore? And if this keeps us going in times of adversity, then it is priceless.

Pineider Avatar, Lipstick Red. An object of desire.

Early thoughts on the Sheaffer Prelude cobalt blue fountain pen.

Whenever I go to our local John Lewis department store, I always pay a visit to the friendly and helpful staff in the Stationery department and take a look at the displays of fountain pens in the glass counters.

These contain the usual suspects from Parker, Waterman, Cross and Sheaffer. But this time, although I must have seen them countless times before, my eyes were drawn to a tray of Sheaffer Prelude fountain pens. They were in several different colours, including some metallic finishes, but the only one I really noticed was a beautiful deep, dark blue, accentuated by rose gold plated furniture. It demanded a closer look.

Sheaffer Prelude, cobalt blue with rose gold PVD trim.

I am not a big fan of faceted grip sections, which this pen has. I do not generally like them because (a) they make the section narrower and (b) they do not cater for lefty overwriters such as myself, who may want to rotate the nib inwards a little, whereupon the facets are no longer under your thumb and forefinger and instead you find yourself gripping a sharp edge. However, I tried the Prelude and found that with the cap posted, I naturally gripped the pen higher up, at the join of the barrel and the section so that the facets were not a problem at all.

I do very much like the shape of Sheaffer nibs and the attractive scroll work on them. I took a close look at the nib with a loupe and was excited to see perfectly aligned tines and a nib slit, with light visible between the tines, narrowing perfectly to the tip. It promised to be a smooth and responsive writer. I have since read that the rose gold coating is a PVD, or Physical Vapour Deposition. The science is beyond me but it looks lovely.

The rather vintagey-looking nib of the Sheaffer Prelude.

I decided to liberate the pen and was pleased that it came with a converter as well as a proprietary Sheaffer cartridge in blue and black and a lifetime warranty.

At home I filled the pen via the converter, from a bottle of Graf von Faber-Castell Cobalt Blue ink, which I have decided is probably my favourite blue ink. It is a rich dark blue, like the traditional colour of a Guernsey woollen jumper (which had for two years been part of my school uniform in the early 1970’s).

Cobalt blue pen with Cobalt blue ink. Genius.

The medium nib wrote smoothly and effortlessly as I expected but produced a line that was closer to a Fine than a Medium. I was quite happy with that.

But this combination of Sheaffer Prelude, Cobalt Blue ink and a Leuchtturm A5 journal was so enjoyable that I could not stop writing with it and quickly filled 14 pages of my notebook. The smooth, fine, wet nib leaving a wake of deep dark blue ink emanating from the rose gold coated nib were so appealing that it was hard to put it down.

My favourite Prelude pic. Look at that paper texture!

I did eventually stop, but only to take some photos of the pen and a few comparison shots with similar pens. Then, like having a new baby, I came down in the middle of the night to test it for hard starts (none) and to write a little more with it.

The Sheaffer Prelude (right) beside a near equivalent, the Parker Sonnet. Both with steel nibs but each taking its own proprietary cartridge or converter.

The pen is a of metal build, with a lacquer coat. There is an attractive white inlay in the finial, which helps to distinguish the pen in the pen cup. The pocket clip (topped with the Sheaffer white dot) is very firm. The snap-on cap posts securely and closes with a reassuring click. The barrel has metal threads on the inside, which are extremely long. I counted fifteen twists to get to the end of the threads and remove the barrel. The section, with its two grip pads, has a black cylindrical plastic housing to support the cartridge or converter, which I liked as I have seen another Sheaffer, the 100, with no such side support and just a platform with the tube sticking up to puncture your cartridge.

Priced at £75.00, the Sheaffer Prelude is a superior model to the Sheaffer Sagaris, the 100 and the 300. In terms of its specification, it seems on a par with the steel nibbed Parker Sonnet which for a time was my best and costliest pen.

I am pleased to have discovered the Sheaffer Prelude and very glad that I stopped to give it a proper look. It is reliable, enjoyable, attractive and robust which all go to make it a great daily carry.

Some early thoughts on the Helix Metal Desktop Sharpener.

I first spotted this for sale, in a rather battered cardboard box, at our local Ryman stationer a few of weeks ago. I did not buy it the first time, but when I saw it still sitting there last weekend, I decided that it needed a new home.

It is an intriguing device. Ryman has a selection of pencil sharpeners, including battery operated models but it was this good old fashioned hand-wound model that appealed to me. Perhaps it was a reminder of primary school days when the teacher had a pencil sharpener clamped to the edge of the desk.

According to the box, there are three colour options, blue, black and red. There was only this one on the shelf, which was red and that seems a good colour for a pencil sharpener.

I stood for a while in the shop, looking at the instructions and features and trying to visualise how it all worked. When I came to buy, I was given 10% off for the damaged box which brought the price down from £14.99 to £13.49, an unexpected bonus. (Note: they are currently for sale on Ryman online, at £14.99 and part of their 3 for 2 promotion).

Helix Metal Desktop Sharpener.

This is my first experience of owning a desk top sharpener. Its features include five settings for various grades of sharpness; a quick release to clear broken leads; a clear plastic tray to collect the shavings; an anti-slip base and a simple clamp for easy attachment to a desk. It is not essential to clamp it and you can still operate it by pressing it down with one hand, whilst operating the crank with the other. You do not need to hold the pencil.

The two cute little ears on the front are actually to squeeze and open a grip, to hold the pencil.

It is very exciting to sharpen your first pencil. The procedure is as follows:

  • Select your desired setting. The first on the left is the sharpest;
  • Pull the chrome “carriage” forward, against the tension of the spring inside, until it locks into position;
  • Squeeze the two black levers, opening the sprung aperture, or “jaws” which grip the pencil; insert a pencil, as far as it will go into the sharpening chamber, then release the black levers;
  • Holding the sharpener down firmly (if not clamped), wind the crank clockwise for a few turns until you feel no resistance and it turns freely; once sharp, the handle continues to rotate but the pencil will stop being sharpened;
  • Squeeze the levers, and remove your now sharp pencil.
With carriage extended and a pencil in the chamber.

I rounded up about 35 pencils from the house and gathered them together to be sharpened. This was an interesting diversion in itself as I recognised a few pencils from years back which brought back different memories.
I found some 2B and 3B pencils, that I had used for drawing, decades ago. Also there was a pencil in white with the red lettering of Greater London Record Office and their old style central London telephone number. I had been given this when visiting the offices near Farringdon to research a property title, looking at records on microfiche, some time in the 1990’s. It was forbidden to take notes in anything but pencil for fear of damaging the aging records.

The great pencil round-up.

I was interested to try the five different point settings. To adjust the setting, you turn a red plastic selector. I found that I had five Staedtler Noris HB pencils and so tried sharpening one each at the five different settings to compare the results.

The settings of 5 (top of photo) down to 1, on Staedtler Noris HB pencils.

Having figured out how to operate it, I tried removing the handle and the blade. These are easily removed by turning the black locking ring 90 degrees anti-clockise and then pulling it out carefully through the hole. The instructions warn against holding the blade, which is obviously sharp. It should be gripped in a vice if unscrewing the handle.

I found it quite fascinating to see how it works. With a pencil inserted, the pencil is gripped and does not rotate, but just pulled forwards. Instead, the conical sharpening chamber rotates around the pencil. A cylindrical blade, rather like a lawn-mower blade with a sharp edged, helical arrangement, rotates over a slot in the sharpening chamber. It is a joy to watch and an amazing design.

A peek inside at the rotating blade.

To replace the crank and sharpening assembly back into the device, (which is slightly more fiddly than taking it out), offer it up carefully back into the hole, then turn the black locking ring 90 degrees clockwise. I found that it helps to try to hold the crank and the locking ring tightly together as you do this.

The clever bit. The crank with the sharpening chamber and blade attached.

To empty the shavings , the clear plastic drawer is just pushed out freely out the front. It will not go in too far or come out through the back.

Fine wood shavings and pencil graphite dust.

As you can well imagine, I had a happy time sharpening a batch of pencils, whilst reminiscing over days of old and restoring lots of elderly stubs to a sharp condition once again. It makes for a pleasant afternoon and is a fine pursuit for National Stationery Week here. The sharpener is a marvel of design, works well, is good value and has a very refreshing old world charm.

The red selector switch to choose your sharpness.