Here I am, hanging out in the hospital dining room while Gordon has dialysis. I’m seated at a nice big table. It would be ideal for restoration work if I’d brought my tools and a handful of pens, but I suspect that the staff might not view that activity with approval.
If I can’t work at least I can write. I can’t really deal with specific pens here but perhaps some more general remarks might be acceptable.
I had a comment the other day about a post I had written on the subject of the Parker 51. Though the comment was just advice on the history of the pen, I read between the lines that the writer did not entirely approve of some of the things I had said about the Parker 51. Let me set the record straight. Though I am not a fan of the Parker 51, I fully recognize that it is one of the finest fountain pens ever made. Given the length of its production run and the immense number of pens made, it would be only a fool who did not recognise its worth and influence on the development of other fountain pens.
My objection to the Parker 51 and other covered-nib pens is purely personal. They don’t work well for me for several reasons. Unlike other types of nib, I have to consciously study the tip of the pen to ensure that I am holding it the right way. That might seem a very minor complaint but it has to be done every time I pick up the pen or resume writing after an interruption. Though you can find the occasional stub or oblique (particularly among Newhaven-made 51s), most covered-nib pens give no line variation. Therein, I think, lies some part of their present popularity; they suit writers who have grown up using ballpoints. Though I don’t entirely dismiss firm points with no line variation, they’re not my favourite type of pen. A little line variation enhances otherwise dull handwriting.
Finally, I don’t understand hiding beautifully crafted nibs away. A large part of my early attraction to fountain pens was just that: the sight of a gold nib gliding across the paper, perhaps flexing a little and laying the best line I could achieve.
So that’s the story. I’m not saying that the Parker 51 is faulty in any way. I’m just saying that it isn’t for me. We all have our preferences. I know at least one person who dislikes Conway Stewarts, despite their excellent nibs, attractive colours and huge range of models. Others actively dislike cartridge pens while some avoid lever- and button-fillers. That’s one of the things that is so wonderful about our hobby: the huge variety which provides something for all tastes.