The Joy of Fountain Pens

I have been looking forward to hearing what kind of stories I could hear today from the two of you, who are professionals in the world of 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 began using fountain pens as a tool for my work back when I was a reporter. I often took notes during interviews and press conferences, and it was common to have three one-hour interviews in a single day, so my fingers would ache if I wrote with a ballpoint pen.

When I started using a fountain pen to try and do something about it, the ink flowed 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 type notes directly into their computers, but even with an analog fountain pen, the speed is probably not much different.

That is exactly right.

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

I feel this sensation is close to the feeling a samurai has when wearing his swords. Also, I fill mine 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 similar to grinding an inkstick, and I believe 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 wearing a kimono."

That is exactly how it feels.

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

Taking the transfer as an opportunity to study from scratch, I began collecting various items on my own. At the time, the editorial office of "Gakuto" had a senior employee 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, "There are no more of these left in 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 a familiar presence 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 just snapped nib after nib 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 was suspicious of this unfamiliar writing instrument at school, wondering, "What on earth is this?" Compared to everyone else, you could say 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 life, 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 I buy 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 experts at the fountain pen counter in the basement, and I buy 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 people want to talk or share values.

After all, fountain pens are difficult in a sense. 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 instrument itself—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 fits everyone; perhaps a 1,000-yen fountain pen is the best fit for that person.

Therefore, when I stand at the counter, my creed is to introduce the one pen that fits the hand of the customer in front of me, and I am 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" is a name inherited from the "Nakaya Seisakusho" workshop founded in Ueno in 1924 by my grandfather, Shunichi Nakata. We have customers fill out a "Writing Medical Record" and perform made-to-order production, customizing the nib and other parts to match 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, aiming to create the best fountain pen in Japan, developed a model called the <#3776> under the supervision of Mr. Haruo Umeda, who was renowned as a fountain pen collector.

This product name is derived from the elevation 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 began with brushes, it seems that soft nibs were preferred for fountain pens at first. However, during the subsequent transition to the era of modern organizational management, the need to keep ledgers arose, and pens with a fine, crisp, and hard writing feel began to spread. The original <#3776> reflected the feel of that era.

I also have a <#3776 Century>. The sensations transmitted to the hand when writing with a fountain pen are truly diverse, and the user's preference is directly reflected in that writing comfort. It's not just each individual product; there are also differences in character between manufacturers, 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 so many varieties for each manufacturer, both domestic and international. 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 different from other writing instruments.

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

I believe that being able to explore the compatibility of your favorite paper colors and ink colors opens up various worlds and expands the enjoyment.

I think the appeal of writing instruments is divided into function and appearance, but with fountain pens, many people seem to "fall into the rabbit hole" after being attracted to their visual beauty 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 sometimes feel they are rather peculiar tools (laughs).

However, if you trace their history, there is no writing instrument more worth exploring. We have been 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 and the barrel. Fountain pens originated in an era when plastic didn't exist, and initially, the barrels 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 ways in which the spiritual pleasure Yamagata-san mentioned at the beginning is growing.

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, but recently that custom is disappearing. As a result, people grow up without any 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, children use fountain pens under government guidance, and even the ink cartridge color is reportedly fixed as blue-black.

The Indian market is said to be on the scale of 10 million pens, so fountain pens have not died out at all globally. 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 event called "Bungu Joshi Haku" (Stationery Ladies' Expo), one of the largest stationery festivals in Japan. Maruzen participated in 2019 in an event within it called "#Ink-numa" (Ink Rabbit Hole), which specializes in fountain pen ink. The customers are mainly women in their 20s, and at that time, it drew 5,000 people over three days, becoming so crowded that entry restrictions were imposed.

We also have a product 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 pens. Until now, I thought it was common to buy a fountain pen first and then choose the ink, but the customers at the "Ink Rabbit Hole" 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 pens themselves, I feel strongly 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 through ink is an interesting trend. I wonder if it's like the feeling of buying tea leaves first and then choosing a teacup (laughs). I wonder what they are writing with them.

When we conducted 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%.

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 isn't something you show to others, so you can write however you want, and you're free to choose which pen to use every day. It's fine for those with beautiful handwriting, but there are times when you use a fountain pen and are appalled by how bad your handwriting is, so a diary that no one sees is the most convenient.

Actually, as you write in a diary with a fountain pen, there's 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 especially like to recommend fountain pens 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, matching Montblanc pens with genuine ink. On the other hand, there is the group of young women who are more interested in ink than pens.

I don't think older women or young men are necessarily indifferent, but these two groups, who seem unlikely to ever meet, are coming 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; in my line of 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 and asked at a Montblanc store what kind of things Japanese people buy, 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." In Japan, Montblanc has probably 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 be free to enjoy that world more. However, regarding overseas manufacturers, it seems that "fountain pen = Montblanc" has somehow become the norm.

If you encounter the luxury products of the largest manufacturer from the start, it might be hard to find a reason to move on to a second or third pen.

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 giant 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 of users would expand further.

German manufacturing is strong. Their pride is also incredible.

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

We have the regular cooperation of students from the seminar of Professor Hideo Suzuki of the Keio Faculty of Science and Technology, who specializes in applied statistical analysis, for research utilizing this accumulated data. 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 researches haptics (real haptics) at the Keio Faculty of Science and Technology. He is helping us with research that utilizes the Writing Medical Records 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) medical record, I think it should be paired with an understanding of that person's health status. We are conducting that kind of research.

That is very interesting. At the store, we also observe the size of the customer's hand, their writing pressure, and the size of their characters 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 thick barrel."

I thought that suggesting the optimal pen for the customer in front of us based on limited information was where we sales staff 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 work together.

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

We haven't reached the level where we can show 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 activates 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 a conversation, 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 luxury or meaning can emerge, allowing it to stand out.

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

I think that before becoming a university student, a person who can have that kind of 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 flow on its own by its own weight. When a thought comes into 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 feel there is something about a handwritten writing instrument in that process of thinking.

Hearing that reminded me: 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 almost never made corrections; it was magnificent.

I was in a state of submitting manuscript paper that was a mess of pencil writing, erasing, and speech bubbles to my seniors. When I asked them for their secret, they said, "You're 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 those clean manuscripts written with fountain pens, thinking how cool they were.

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. In an interview, when asked, "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 left a strong impression on me.

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 the previous president read it and pleaded to be allowed to make that fountain pen at our company.

It seems they also spent a lot of money on marketing; 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-broad nibs like Montblanc, so it seems some didn't like the scratchy feel of a fine nib.

As for other brands, I bought a Pelikan fountain pen with a silver cap recommended by a veteran female sales representative at the Maruzen Nihonbashi store. It's well-balanced, small, and very easy to use.

I like Pelikan too.

Since I'm facing two professionals today, I ended up bringing all sorts of things (laughs). I brought an Onoto that Maruzen imported into Japan, and 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" is mostly in pencil with some parts in pen.)

It sounds like you buy almost everything recommended by the shops (laughs).

Now that you mention it (laughs).

Among other recent purchases that are a bit unusual, there's one from a new Italian manufacturer called Leonardo.

Italian designs are ornate and interesting, aren't they?

It can be described as 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 hard to repair, so I 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 pens, I want Nakaya Fountain Pen to be like a specialized small restaurant.

For example, a world of limited-quantity, reservation-only sales where we can say, "We only have 10 seats, so please make a reservation," or "For pufferfish, you have to tell us 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?

That's right. 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 model from that time. Not just the fountain pen, 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 design gift box of that era and emphasized that worldview by producing a genuine leather pen case with the same design.

Also, to promote our trademark "Athena," the 150th-anniversary Athena fountain pen was released with a 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 completed form as a writing instrument, I hope that by conveying these playful elements and the "margin" for expression, it will spread to younger people as well.

There is 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 too. The existence of small items like that, which you can't help but keep, is charming.

Mr. Miyahara, I'm sure you've seen many products, including those from overseas. 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, even imported brands still had an abundant supply of individual parts. The drawers in the writing instrument section of the Nihonbashi store were full of parts for each brand, and if a customer said, "I'm having trouble because the cap is loose," we could replace just the necessary part and repair it right there at the counter.

The Parker 75 had a clutch 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 total replacement rather than a repair, and we have to take the pen and have it looked at at a factory or similar facility.

The first fountain pen I ever owned was indeed 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. There was a comfort to it, like a custom-made suit, in the way it fit the user, and I think it boasted an extremely high level of perfection.

It's a bit of a shame that the nib on the successor series, the Sonnet, is fixed. 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, so I intend to keep asking (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 Parker 75's nib mechanism at Nakaya (laughs).

But stories like these never end, do they?

After all, Keio's emblem is a pen (laughs).