On and Off Campus Blog: What Jane Austen Taught Me About Handwriting
By Caroline Dudzinski ’26
As a first grader, my plan for world domination was terrorizing the populace with my awful handwriting. Picture the worst doctor’s scrawl, add a multitude of jagged edges and smudges, and that would be about equivalent to my handwriting as a seven-year-old. Believe it or not, I could read my own writing perfectly, which I presumed was all that mattered. I thought that handwriting was increasingly becoming obsolete with the ubiquity of computers and smartphones, and, accordingly, I reasoned that trying to perfect an antiquated skill was useless. Unfortunately, this world-conqueror-in-training chanced upon a great adversary in the form of her first-grade teacher, Ms. Schlank, who informed her point-blank: “Handwriting is important, so your New Year’s resolution is to improve your penmanship.”
I have always been stubborn and prefer to “beat to my own drum,” as my father says. As a protest against my first-grade teacher, I resolved that I would not adopt that New Year’s resolution, not that year, not ever. Based on my earlier description of my scrawl, it may be assumed that my handwriting could not have further deteriorated. Not so! The company, Bic, manufactures some inexpensive and rather mediocre-quality pens, and, dear reader, you would be shocked at how horrific my penmanship became after I transitioned over to using throwaway, modern Bic pens. What was previously “awful” became almost illegible.
Who could have foreseen that the traditional fountain pen would be my salvation?
Now, where to begin?
Nine years after the infamous showdown with my first-grade teacher where I dismissed her recommendation, I came across the wonderful author Jane Austen. Miss Austen’s writings—with her satirical eye and crisp phrasing along with her focus on family, compassion, love tempered by realism, and character maturation—stirred something within me. I found true contentment in reading her works, which felt real in a world so often dictated by the faux.
My adoration of Miss Austen inspired me to investigate the skills necessary to be a lady in her time. I am well-versed in all the requirements—I play piano, sing, draw, dance, speak two modern languages, and read classic novels—except… penmanship. Handwritten letters were absolutely standard and necessary in Miss Austen’s time, and, therefore, a lady must have elegant, legible, and well-crafted penmanship.
This maxim was at great odds with my earlier resolution to ignore my teacher, but I suddenly realized how foolish, how silly I had been to ignore the appeal, personalization, and wonder of paper and ink! I want to preserve sentimental aspects of the past and find fulfillment elsewhere than on Instagram or Snapchat. With this in mind, I instantly set about to improve my penmanship.
My host mother from my stay in Korea happened to gift me a fountain pen constructed of glossed ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl. In my past ignorance, I would never have used it, but, suddenly, it became an object of utmost importance. I practiced day in and day out, studying Austenian-era handwriting from my epistolary edition of Pride and Prejudice and online archival eighteenth-century correspondences, scribing slowly until I perfected a rounded and delicate Georgian Era cursive.
I am aware that some may laugh that I prefer a fountain pen over any other implement. The general argument is that fountain pens are expensive and writing with them can be arduous and slow. What place does a fountain pen have in this modern world? I tell this long saga of my handwriting because I believe we should keep the humble fountain pen. The pen may be inefficient, but I value having more time to consider each word since handwriting is physically slower than typing. And, the sensation of the pen’s heavy tip skating smoothly across paper is incomparable to dashing off a text.
People also appreciate the time and effort put into a handwritten note as opposed to a quickly sent email with an autosignature; the final product may be dotted with ink stains, but that adds to the personalized charm. In this efficiency-focused modern world, objects and totems that recall tradition should exist. A single stroke of the fountain pen creates that gentle connectedness we all crave and require.
Meet the bloggers of the On and Off Campus blog!
