by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
We’ve talked in the past about doing some of our writing by hand, with an actual pen on actual paper. Since my handwriting resembles Foghorn Leghorn’s footprints, I have generally kept to the keyboard. I do, however, like to do mind maps with pen and paper. Sometimes I’ll block out a scene that way.
Today I’d like to say something about the pencil. I do love a good pencil. It’s a writing instrument, sure, but also an underlining buddy, perfect for marking up a book. And subject to change, for a good pencil carries with it the original delete key—the eraser. Many a time I’ve rubbed out a word or line, and whisked away the little red leavings with the back of my hand. A fresh start! Unlike the unforgiving pen, the pencil is happy to do it all over again.
It has been asserted that that a manuscript of Theophilus, emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire from 829–842, shows signs of having been written with a black-lead pencil. But the first allusion we have of the pencil comes from a treatise on fossils written in the mid-1500s by Conrad Gesner of Zurich. He was a Swiss naturalist, and describes a writing implement formed of wood and “lead,” which was really a composition called stimmi anglicanum. I have no idea what that means, but that’s what it says in the pencil article in my grandfather’s Encyclopedia Britannica set.
Black lead was first used in chunks, called marking stones. Later, the material was cut into small rods or strips and wrapped in twine to provide a comfort- able grip and additional strength. Users unwound the twine from the point, as necessary. These instruments made a fine black line, reminiscent of the writing from the fine Roman brush called a pencilium; thus the instrument became known as a lead pencil.
Today, the #1 is the softest, and darkest, of the pencil family. It is therefore perfect for marking up any page, and especially useful for thin pages, as in a Bible. The harder pencils almost tear through pages like that because you have to press harder to make the line good and dark.
The #1 skates easily across any page. And it’s great for doodles and mind maps, too.
But it’s gotten bullied almost out of existence by the cocky #2.
That’s because #2 became the de facto pencil in education. To fill in those Os on tests it is always, “Use a #2 pencil.” There is no earthly reason for this exclusivity, but then again, there is no earthly reason for a lot of things these days.
The other day I went to Staples to buy some #1s, but found nothing but #2s on the rack. I went to the cash register and asked, “Do you carry #1 pencils?”
The nice young fellow shook his head. “We just don’t.”
“That is a sad state of affairs,” I said.
He looked puzzled.
“#1s have been shunted aside,” I said.
“You can always go online,” he said.
Which I did, right out there in the parking lot. I went to Amazon (natch) on my phone and ordered these.
And I ponder. Since when should #2 be given more glory than #1? How many books are there about Stephen A. Douglas? Or Walter Mondale? Or the 1990s Buffalo Bills?
All hail the #1 pencil!
Does a pencil figure in your everyday reading or writing?