The Joy of Fountain Pens

I have been looking forward to hearing what kind of stories I could hear today from you two, who are professionals when it comes to fountain pens.

For me, there are two types of "pleasures of the fountain pen." One is "practical pleasure," and the other is "spiritual pleasure." I started using fountain pens as a tool for work back when I was a reporter. I often took notes at interviews and press conferences, and it was common to have three one-hour interviews a day, so my fingers would hurt if I wrote with a ballpoint pen.

When I started using a fountain pen to try and do something about it, the ink came out smoothly as it touched the paper, and I could move the pen without putting much pressure on my fingers, which made it much easier.

Many people are under the impression that you cannot write quickly with a fountain pen, but in reality, you can take notes much faster than with a ballpoint pen. Recently, young reporters at press conferences have been typing notes directly into their computers, but even with an analog fountain pen, the speed should probably be about the same.

That is exactly right.

As for the other "spiritual pleasure," every morning after I put on my suit and tie, I tuck a fountain pen into my breast pocket, thinking, "I'm going with this one today." That makes me feel sharp.

I think this feeling is close to how a samurai felt when wearing his sword. Also, I fill the pen with ink from an inkwell, and during that time, my mind becomes composed. Then, when I write, I can stop and think for a moment. There is something about a fountain pen that is similar to grinding an inkstick, and I think having that kind of "pause" is very important for a writing instrument.

I see. Kumiko Takahashi, the former drummer of the rock band "Chatmonchy," expressed it in an essay as: "(The charm of a fountain pen) is like putting on a kimono and having your spine straighten up. It's the same feeling as being conscious of your femininity when you wear a kimono."

That is exactly how it feels.

Before I joined Maruzen, I had almost no connection with fountain pens. I became interested in them about 30 years ago, after I was assigned to the luxury writing instrument department at the Nihombashi store.

Taking the transfer as an opportunity to study from scratch, I started collecting various things in my own way. At the time, there was a senior employee in the "Gakuto" editorial office who was like a walking encyclopedia of Maruzen's history. When I went to show him a vintage Tokoname-ware Athena ink bottle I had found at an antique market, he told me, "This is something that no longer remains within the company, so take good care of it."

My love for fountain pens, which continues to this day, started from the feeling that I must manage and preserve the history of Maruzen.

Since I grew up in a family where making fountain pens was the family business, fountain pens were already familiar to me by the time I was in kindergarten. However, as a child, I didn't understand their value, let alone how to use them, and I couldn't control my writing pressure. So, I would just snap the nibs one after another as they were given to me (laughs).

When I started elementary school, my father would occasionally bring home a new product and give it to me, but I would look at the unfamiliar writing instrument at school and wonder, "What on earth is this?" Compared to everyone else, my encounter with fountain pens was quite unique.

If you ask why someone would go out of their way to use a fountain pen that costs a certain amount, I think it's something people buy at various turning points in their lives, when they want to compose themselves and move forward. And since they are going to the trouble of buying one, they want it to have some kind of meaning, like a commemoration.

That's why, when buying one, it's not just about buying it anywhere; I want to buy it from someone pleasant. My company is in Nihombashi, and because of my work, I go to the Maruzen Nihombashi store all the time.

It's fun to talk about various things with the people who are knowledgeable about fountain pens in the basement fountain pen department, and I buy them there. After all, if you feel bad when you buy something, that feeling lingers, so it's best to buy from someone you trust.

Thank you (laughs). Such relationships with customers are very precious. When I was at the Nihombashi store, there was a couple who were both printmakers; whenever I sent them a thank-you note, they would always reply with a wonderful hand-printed woodblock postcard. A fountain pen is a rare product that allows for a relationship where you want to talk or share values.

After all, fountain pens are difficult in a way. Not only the length and thickness of the pen, but also the feel when writing and the balance of the center of gravity of the pen body—the conditions for it to feel right in the hand vary from person to person. So, it's not that a one-million-yen fountain pen will suit everyone; perhaps a 1,000-yen fountain pen is the best fit for that person.

Therefore, when I stand on the sales floor, my creed is to introduce the one pen that fits the hand of the customer in front of me, and I'm happy when I can build a relationship of trust with the customer that allows me to do that.

Manufacturers usually don't have the opportunity to hear customer requests directly, but in 1999, Platinum Pen launched Nakaya Fountain Pen, which manufactures and sells 100% handmade fountain pens. "Nakaya" inherits the shop name of "Nakaya Seisakusho," which was founded in Ueno in 1924 by my grandfather's father, Shunichi Nakata. We operate on a made-to-order basis where customers fill out a "Writing Chart" and we customize the nib and other parts according to their writing characteristics.

Since everything is made-to-order, we have close communication with the customer regarding nib adjustments and so on.

This year (2020) marks the 100th anniversary of the birth of the author Haruo Umeda, whose fountain pen collection is held at the Keio University Library. In 1978, my predecessor developed a model called the <#3776>, supervised by Mr. Haruo Umeda, who was famous as a fountain pen collector, with the aim of making the best fountain pen in Japan.

This product name is derived from the altitude of Mount Fuji. In 2010, we announced the <#3776 Century>, a full model change that incorporated a mechanism to prevent ink from drying out using current technology. It has a highly airtight structure so that even modern users who do not use fountain pens frequently can start writing immediately after removing the cap.

Since Japanese writing originally started with brushes, it seems that soft fountain pens were preferred at first. However, in the process of moving into the era of modern organizational management, the need to keep ledgers arose, and pens with a fine, scratchy, and hard writing feel began to spread. The original <#3776> reflected the feel of that era.

I also have a <#3776 Century>. Fountain pens have a wide variety of sensations transmitted to the hand when writing, and the user's preference is directly reflected in that writing comfort. There are differences in character not only for each product but also for each manufacturer, and I think the temperament and worldview of each company are expressed in their fountain pens. Furthermore, the fact that countless combinations are born by adding ink preferences is also an attraction.

Even if you just say "blue," there are many types for each manufacturer, both domestic and international, so the number is vast. Furthermore, the color of the ink looks completely different depending on the color and texture of the paper, so the enjoyment extends to the choice of notebooks and stationery. I think the way these variations keep expanding offers a richness and depth that is different from other writing instruments.

Maruzen has an original product called the Fountain Pen Starter Set, which includes a 1,000-yen fountain pen, a notebook with six assorted colors, and three colors of ink. The reason we made such a thing is that we want people to know that, for example, even with the same blue ink, it looks like a completely different color when written on blue paper versus pink paper.

I think that if you can explore the compatibility between your favorite paper color and ink color like that, various worlds will open up and your enjoyment will expand.

I think the appeal of writing instruments is divided into function and appearance, but for fountain pens, many people seem to "fall into the rabbit hole" after being attracted to the beauty of their appearance first. Fountain pens themselves haven't changed much in the last few decades, and they aren't exactly what you'd call a daily necessity. Even though I make them myself, I can't help but feel they are a bit of a peculiar tool (laughs).

However, if you trace their history, there is no writing instrument more worth exploring. We are currently working for over a year to develop a fountain pen with a built-in filling mechanism, and what we are struggling with is establishing the technology to integrally mold the grip part and the barrel. Fountain pens originally originated in an era when there was no such thing as plastic, and initially, the barrel parts were made on a lathe.

So, at the time, there was no premise of plastic molding for mass production by creating molds, and today, even though ink cartridges are sufficient, there are people who enjoy inconvenient products from the past. This is one of the things where the spiritual pleasure that Mr. Yamagata mentioned at the beginning is becoming more significant.

Whether you call this a zombie or a throwback, I feel that the more I do it, the more interesting a tool it becomes.

I see, that's interesting. Many manufacturers are now selling fountain pens for children, and I think it's important to experience the feel of a fountain pen from a young age.

In the past, when a child went on to higher education, relatives in many families would give a fountain pen as a gift to celebrate, but recently that custom is disappearing. As a result, people grow up without having the opportunity to come into contact with fountain pens, which is a waste.

In Europe, using a fountain pen is integrated into compulsory education. In China, too, children use fountain pens under government guidance, and even the ink cartridge color is reportedly fixed as blue-black.

The Indian market is also said to be on the scale of 10 million pens, so fountain pens have not gone out of style at all from a global perspective. In fact, in Europe, it's common for people to own ten fountain pens. Compared to that, the reality in Japan is that the number of people who own even one fountain pen is limited.

Actually, an interesting movement is occurring. There is an annual festival called "Bungu Joshi Haku" (Stationery Ladies' Expo), which is one of the largest stationery festivals in Japan, and Maruzen participated in an event within it called "#Ink-numa" (Ink Rabbit Hole) in 2019, which specialized in fountain pen ink. The customers were mainly women in their 20s, and at that time, it drew 5,000 people over three days, and it was so crowded that entry restrictions were put in place.

We also have something called "preppy" that can be bought with ink for 300 yen, and it's popular among young women.

Surprisingly, the young women who visit "#Ink-numa" are overwhelmingly more interested in the ink than the pen. Until now, I thought it was common to buy a fountain pen first and then choose the ink, but the customers at "Ink-numa" are interested in the types of ink first, and from there they ask, "So, which fountain pen should I use?" (laughs).

Unlike previous customers who were highly interested in the fountain pen itself, I strongly feel that more customers are picking up fountain pens from the perspective of "I want beautiful ink." I am reminding myself that the same approach as before is no longer sufficient.

Getting hooked starting from the ink is an interesting trend. I wonder if it's like the feeling of choosing a teacup after buying black tea (laughs). I wonder what they are writing with them.

When we took a survey of about 50 people at the venue asking "What do you write with a fountain pen?", many answered diaries or letters, accounting for about 50 to 60 percent.

I am from a completely different generation than them, but I can relate well to the idea of a "diary." I also started keeping a diary after I began using fountain pens.

Letters aren't something you write all the time, and a diary is where you can use a fountain pen to your heart's content. Unlike a letter, a diary is not something you show to others, so you can write however you want, and you are free to choose which pen to use every day. It's fine for those with beautiful handwriting, but there are times when you are appalled by your own poor handwriting when using a fountain pen, so a diary that no one sees is the most convenient.

Actually, as you write a diary with a fountain pen, there is a part of you that gradually feels calm and settled. So even if it's just a short text, keeping a diary is perfect for enjoying a fountain pen. I would like to recommend fountain pens especially to young people who have a habit of writing in a diary.

Perhaps they are being loved by two contrasting groups now. On one hand, there is the group of older men who might be Maruzen's most traditional customers, who match a Montblanc pen with genuine ink, and on the other hand, there is the group of young women who are more interested in the ink than the pen.

I don't think older women or young men are necessarily indifferent, but these two groups, who seem unlikely to ever meet, are starting to support the fountain pen market. It's a difficult era to accurately grasp needs from such a structure.

The name Montblanc just came up; because of my work, I had many opportunities to interview corporate executives, and the ownership rate of Montblanc is overwhelmingly high. It has probably become a standard gift for celebrating promotions to important positions.

When I went to Berlin before, I asked at a Montblanc store what kind of things Japanese people buy, and they said they usually buy the most magnificent and largest ones. They said Chinese and Koreans are the same. They also said, "Almost no Germans use such luxury items." Surely in Japan, Montblanc has come to circulate as a kind of symbol of authority. To put it grandly, it might be slightly hindering cultural diversity.

Nowadays, various manufacturers, both domestic and international, are making unique and attractive fountain pens, from their appearance to their writing feel, so I think users should enjoy that world more freely, but for overseas manufacturers, it seems that "fountain pen = Montblanc" has somehow become the norm.

If you touch the luxury products of the largest manufacturer from the beginning, it might be hard to find a reason to go for a second or third one.

Montblanc has its own unique merits, though. In the early 90s when I joined Maruzen, Montblanc Meisterstücks were selling like hotcakes every day.

At the time, I didn't think deeply about why they sold so well, but later, I fortunately had the opportunity to visit the factory in Germany. Seeing how they polished the products with huge brushes like those used for washing large vehicles, I felt a power characteristic of Europe.

I realized that the unique weight, brilliance, and texture of Montblanc are born this way. Personally, I think that if we could produce this kind of texture in Japan, the base would expand even further.

German manufacturing is strong. Their pride is also amazing.

Let me also talk about our manufacturing. Since our founding, Nakaya Fountain Pen has wanted to use the writing speed and pressure of each individual in product development, so we receive customer data that serves as a production instruction sheet for the fountain pen, which we call a "Writing Chart."

We regularly receive cooperation for research utilizing this accumulation from the members of the seminar of Professor Hideo Suzuki of the Keio Faculty of Science and Technology, who specializes in applied statistical analysis. We hope to analyze the collected data scientifically and give back to our customers (society).

We also have the cooperation of Professor Takahiro Nozaki, who is currently at MIT and conducts research on haptics (real haptics) at the Keio Faculty of Science and Technology. He is helping us with research that utilizes the Writing Charts to collect waveform data on writing pressure and what we call "dynamic writing pressure" during writing, as well as the pleasure or discomfort of the writing sensation.

We preserve the customer's "optimal current writing condition." Since we have a (writing) chart, I think keeping track of that person's health status would also be a counterpart. We are doing that kind of research.

That is very interesting. We also observe the size of the customer's hand, their writing pressure, and the size of their characters at the store to suggest the best pen for them. We think, "A hard nib would suit this person," or "This person has large hands, so I'll introduce something with a large, thick barrel."

I thought that suggesting the optimal pen for the customer in front of us based on a small amount of information was where we salespeople showed our skill, but if scientific approaches like Nakaya's progress, our jobs might disappear (laughs).

No, the point of contact with the customer is a very important part, so the wisdom of those involved in sales, not just us, is necessary. Let's definitely do it together.

Is it already possible to design nibs and barrels based on numbers and data?

We haven't reached the level where we can produce statistical significance yet. Regarding dynamic writing pressure, we only just started five years ago with the idea of just doing something.

In the field of neuroscience, I have read an article stating that writing characters by hand prevents the decline of cognitive functions. It seems that the "act of hitting" like typing on a computer does not activate the brain.

When actually writing by hand, the movement of organizing in your head where and how to write on the paper is said to activate the brain. In that sense, I want to convey the merits of handwriting to people of all generations.

I think we are probably "editing" through the act of writing. For example, when leaving notes of what was said, typing becomes just a record, but I always think that by writing it down with your own hand, you are simultaneously performing the task of summarizing the story.

So, in the digital age, some people might say, "What's the point of a fountain pen?", but I think a contrary sense of luxury or meaning can emerge, allowing it to stand out.

I don't think fountain pens will disappear by being swallowed up by the digital age; I believe that if a fountain pen can clarify its own position and properly create its world deeply, it will never lose.

I think that before becoming a university student, a person who can have time with an inconvenient tool—a kind of "utility of the useless"—might be able to do something quite creative.

A fountain pen lets ink out on its own by its own weight. When a thought suddenly comes to the brain, you can perform mapping by actually writing, whether it's a drawing or just scribbling.

If it's just for visualizing thoughts, PowerPoint would be fine. But I do feel that there is something about a handwritten writing instrument in that process of thinking.

Hearing that reminded me that the senior reporters back when I was a novice already had the text formed in their heads before they even started writing, and they would just quickly write it on the manuscript paper with a fountain pen and be done. They hardly ever made any corrections, and it was magnificent.

I was in a state where I would submit manuscript paper that was a mess from writing and erasing with a pencil and making speech bubbles, so when I asked the seniors for their secret, they said, "You are writing and erasing because it's not organized in your head. If you organize it properly before you write, there's no need to fix it." I admired the clean manuscripts written with fountain pens, thinking how cool that was.

In the past, many people in companies used fountain pens to write documents. Handwriting must be good training for developing the ability to structure sentences.

There is an award ceremony for people who look good with fountain pens, and I heard an interesting story from the idol Rina Ikoma, who was a special guest. When asked in an interview, "If you were to use a fountain pen, how would you use it?" she replied that she would take a photo with her smartphone of the handwritten words "Thank you" on paper, along with her hand and the fountain pen she used, and send that. It was very impressive.

Writing a letter, putting it in an envelope, attaching a stamp, and taking it to a mailbox might not be able to compete with the speed of email or LINE, but even so, I felt that nothing has more character than words written by hand.

I believe that as long as the desire to convey one's feelings to others remains, "handwriting culture" will survive.

By the way, Mr. Yamagata, how many fountain pens do you own?

About 30. Today, I brought all the Platinum Pen fountain pens I own. From desk pens to the 300-yen Preppy, and then the #3776 Century.

The development of the original #3776 was actually triggered by an essay written by Haruo Umeda on the theme of the "Ideal Fountain Pen." I heard that my predecessor read it and pleaded with him to let our company handle the creation of that fountain pen.

It seems a lot of money was spent on marketing as well; we still have original manuscripts written with the #3776 by 50 of the top authors of the time, including Seiichi Morimura and Takeshi Kaiko.

That is amazing.

What's funny is that some people wrote, "This fountain pen is no good" (laughs). At the time, the mainstream for authors was extra-thick nibs like Montblanc, so it seems some didn't like the scratchy feel of a fine nib.

Among pens from other companies, a silver-capped Pelikan fountain pen I bought on the recommendation of a veteran female sales representative at the Maruzen Nihonbashi store is very well-balanced, small, and extremely easy to use.

I like Pelikan too.

Since I'm facing two professionals today, I ended up bringing all sorts of things (laughs). This is an Onoto that Maruzen imported into Japan, and I also brought one that Maruzen made with Waterman.

Maruzen was originally called "Maruya Shosha" and was a bookstore opened in Shinhama-cho, Yokohama. The founder, Yuteki Hayashi, was a close ally of Yukichi Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa was deeply involved in the management of Maruzen, and since Maruzen was strong in importing foreign goods, Yukichi Fukuzawa, who was interested in new things, might have purchased and used fountain pens at Maruzen. (Editor's note: Yukichi Fukuzawa basically used brushes for manuscripts and letters. His "Seiko Techo" [Western Voyage Notebook] is mostly in pencil with some parts in pen.)

It sounds like you buy almost everything based on the store's recommendation (laughs).

Now that you mention it (laughs). Among other things I've bought recently that are a bit unusual, there's one from a new Italian manufacturer called Leonardo.

Italian designs are quite elaborate and interesting.

You could say they have a colorful and dignified beauty. Mr. Nakata, do you personally purchase pens other than your own company's products?

I buy a lot. Speaking of oddities, the Sheaffer Snorkel, where the nib and barrel are integrated, is interesting.

Pens with rare mechanisms are difficult to repair, so I sometimes buy seven or eight of the same model. I also receive them from customers.

Do you receive pens from other companies?

Many people bring in antiques. Some even bring handmade fountain pens. With handmade ones, the ink sometimes drips and leaks, which can be quite a mess (laughs). Speaking of antiques, there are also things like this ivory dip pen.

Oh, wow. The shape is beautiful.

I want to make something as sophisticated as this at Nakaya Fountain Pen. Unlike investing heavily in equipment to produce lots of a million units, I want Nakaya Fountain Pen to be like a specialized small restaurant.

For example, a world of limited-quantity, reservation-only sales where you can say, "We only have 10 seats, so please make a reservation," or "For pufferfish, you have to let us know a week in advance." I think it would be interesting to be able to make fountain pens starting from the idea of "Let's try making this."

Maruzen also makes original fountain pens, don't they?

Yes. Actually, in the late Taisho era, when imported fountain pens were mainstream, Maruzen worked on manufacturing domestic fountain pens under the trademark "Athena Fountain Pen."

In 2019, marking our 150th anniversary, we released a modern arrangement of the models from that time. Not just the fountain pens, but referring to the "Life History of Fountain Pens" exhibition held at the National Museum of Japanese History in 2016, we faithfully reproduced the Art Deco style gift boxes of that era and emphasized that worldview by producing a genuine leather pen case with the same design.

Also, to promote our trademark "Athena," we released the 150th-anniversary Athena fountain pen with an included pin designed after the Athena ink bottle. I heard that in the past, overseas stationery brands also made such items to distribute as promotional goods.

Since the fountain pen is almost a perfected writing instrument, I hope that by conveying these "playful" margins where creativity can be expressed, it will spread to younger people as well.

There is a special paper for absorbing ink, known as a blotter. I heard that in the past, stationery manufacturers like Parker used the back of that paper as an advertising medium, and I collect those as well. The existence of small items like that, which you can't help but want to keep, is charming.

Mr. Miyahara, I'm sure you've seen many products, including those from overseas, but what do you think makes a good fountain pen?

For me, the condition for a good writing instrument is that it "can be fixed." In that sense, the ideal is the Parker 75.

When I first joined the company, we could still receive a rich supply of individual parts even for imported brands. The drawers in the writing instrument section of the Nihonbashi store were filled with parts for each brand, and if a customer was troubled by a loose cap, we could replace just the necessary part and repair it right there at the counter.

The Parker 75 had a clutch on the inside that made a clicking sound when the cap was closed. This would gradually loosen with use, but as long as we had the parts, we could fix it on the spot.

However, nowadays, it's usually a full replacement rather than a repair, and we have to take the item and have it looked at at a factory or similar facility.

The first fountain pen I ever owned was exactly a Parker 75. That Ciselé sterling silver one. It was when I was in junior high school. I believe I received it as a graduation gift from my uncle who was at Sony. I think he bought it for me during a business trip to the US.

However, while the Parker 75 and its successor, the Sonnet, look similar at first glance, the shape of the nib is quite different. I think the old ones are far better, but does Parker no longer make them?

There are still many die-hard fans of the Parker 75. That pen had a triangular cross-section on the grip making it easy to hold, and the mechanism that allowed you to rotate the nib to adjust its orientation was excellent. You could spin it so the nib faced the front of the grip. It had a comfort like a tailored suit in the way it fit the user, and I think it boasted a very high level of perfection.

It's a bit of a shame that the nib is fixed on the successor series, the Sonnet. Every time I meet someone from the Parker importer, I suggest, "Why not reissue the Parker 75?" but the hurdle for approval from the head office seems unexpectedly high.

But I believe that passion will get through someday, and I want to keep appealing to them (laughs).

That's where the interest and difficulty of hardware lie. Especially with fountain pens, each user has different usability needs, so preferences vary in subtle ways.

I was listening restlessly, wondering if we could implement the nib mechanism of the Parker 75 at Nakaya (laughs).

But stories like these are endless, aren't they?

After all, Keio's emblem is the crossed pens (laughs).