Journal entry: Monday March 1, 2021. I have begun restoring pens again. So far, just well-used “third-tier” pens like this Viceroy combo (both pen and mechanical pencil) that I’m writing with.
There is something so satisfying in bringing a derelict – a cast-off back to life. Once these pens were used every day by someone. The fact that they were inexpensive when new tells me that either their owner was not well-to-do or was frugal. When new these pens were beautiful, with barrels of rich, marbled colors. This one is a chocolate brown with pearlescent marbling that shades into maroon. The metal clip, cap band, fill lever and nib (known as “the furniture”) were plated with gold—very thinly plated, I might add. Yes, sitting on the drug store counter when purchased, it shined and glittered in the light, promising a handful of elegance for a person who probably had just eaten beans for lunch.
And its proud owner really used it! Writing with it day by day at work; year after year filling it with ink and replacing the pencil lead as needed. Perhaps after a couple of years the ink sac dried out and started leaking and the person took the pen into the little pen repair shop just off of Main Street. The technician pulled the pen apart, cleaned out the dried ink, used a knife to gently pare away the old rubber from the nipple, and cemented a new sac in place using shellac. (This was exactly what I had to do as well.) After giving the pen a quick shine with the rouge wheel (further stripping away whatever gold was still clinging to the furniture) the technician returned the pen to its owner for a couple of dollars.
Over time, the gold wore away. Now the formerly proud furniture of the pen showed dull brass or corroded metal. Because the nib was cheap, without the hard iridium tip of more expensive pens, the point flattened, fitting the writer’s hand exactly. Decades later, when I picked it up to write with it, the sharp edges and points cut into the paper—“Who is this interloper who dares write with me!” I had to tame the pen, grinding the nib even more, removing points and sharp edges. Now it submits to my hand
It’s possible to have the furniture re-plated and to install a new, better nib. But the replating would cost FAR more than the pen is worth, and the new nib would be bland and generic, as well as stealing the history of the pen. So I removed the old, brittle rubber that used to be an ink sac, cleaned the barrel, put in a new pressure bar, soaked the dry ink out of the section (the part of the pen holding the nib), installed the new sac and polished the metal as best I could. This elderly Viceroy is now proud to do its job once more. I first wrote this post in my daily journal, using the very pen I’m talking about. I leave it to you, dear reader, to decide if there is a parable here.
(By the way, this, and several other pens are for sale.)
