Helen Garner with her beloved Corona.
This article appeared in the Melbourne Age Spectrum liftout this morning:
Clack of typewriters captivates authors
"When we were young the keys struck the paper with such authority and power that on the other side of the sheet you could feel the indentations with your fingertips," Helen Garner says. "Now that was writing."
By Justine Hyde*
For most of us, the mechanical staccato of the typewriter has faded into
memory. The push of the heavy carriage, the slap of the keys striking paper, the
fingers ink-stained from replacing ribbons – all sweet nostalgia for an obsolete
technology. The digital world marches on.
Not so for a dedicated band of typewriter enthusiasts, collectors and
artists who are leading a revival driven by their deep affection for these
machines. In fact, some writers never stopped using them. Today, you are more
likely to find a vintage typewriter restored for sale in a high-end vintage
shop, rather than out on the nature strip for the hard rubbish collection.
Underwood. Hermes. Remington. Olivetti. Brother. Ask any typewriter devotee
to name their favourite machine and they will reel off a list of beloved
brands.
It was a sleek 1915 black Corona portable that first seduced author Helen
Garner. "I was crazy about its romantic brand name," she says. "The smell of oil
when I opened the lid of its box made me feel like fainting with happiness."
Ernest Hemingway was similarly intoxicated, dedicating a poem to his Corona and
stating that it was the only psychiatrist to which he had ever submitted.
Garner's handsome folding typewriter belonged to her grandmother, Alfreda
Gadsden, who she describes as "a chic and perfumed person, generous but rather
tough". Garner can't remember how old she was when she took possession of the
Corona from her grandmother, or whether it was a birthday or Christmas gift. "It
just manifested in my life. I mooned around her for a long time, dropping hints
about the typewriter. She must have cracked eventually and handed it over," she
says.
Garner's fondness for typewriters grew from there. While she flirted with
other makes and models, she never parted with her Corona. "I kept it in a
cupboard for years, lugging it from house to house whenever I moved, which was
often." To add to its charm, Garner discovered that Danish writer Isak Dinesen
had owned the same model. "Suddenly my heavy old machine, already hopelessly
superseded, seemed even more of a treasure," she says.
Karen Blixen's Corona 3
Garner's devotion is shared by Robert Messenger, owner of the Australian
Typewriter Museum in Canberra. Messenger, who revels in the "sheer beauty of the
machine with so many variations", says his passion for typewriters was ignited
during his days as a print journalist. In the early 1960s, journalists could
choose a typewriter and then have their pay docked a few shillings each week to
pay for it. "I had eyed a typewriter in the store for months, and when I had
the chance, knocked over several little old ladies to get to it," he
recalls.
Messenger started seriously collecting when he spotted a shiny black
Imperial portable typewriter in a shop on the New South Wales south coast. The
real turning point was discovering eBay. At the peak of his collecting,
Messenger amassed 903 typewriters. He has since pared this back to 390,
displaying 250 of these in his museum. Visitors can try out an impressive array
of vintages, from an 1878 Remington through to a 2013 Royal, which is still
manufactured in China and sold through Amazon.
The collection springs from Messenger's "great fascination in typewriters
as an outmoded technology". For him, their true wonder is the fact that he can
take his 1893 Blickensderfer typewriter anywhere, "to the desert, a mountain
top, Antarctica – and I can write. I just need paper. The ink is still working
after 120 years." No electricity or batteries required.
The functional simplicity and singular purpose of typewriters explains why
some writers still prefer to bang out sentences on their keys, shunning
computers and their myriad distractions of email and social media. "Once you get
onto a typewriter you can forge on with your creative urge," Messenger says.
David Malouf, author of Typewriter Music
Paul Auster, Don DeLillo and Cormac McCarthy are among the literary heavyweights
who favour the cranking carriage and inky ribbon. Closer to home, David Malouf
and Les Murray write their poems on typewriters. Messenger reasons that this is
because typewriters do not dictate your writing style, for example, by
capitalising the beginning of lines of poetry, like Word does.
Throwing off the shackles of digital technology also appeals to Luke
Sinclair, a zine-maker and coordinator of Melbourne zine store Sticky Institute.
Sinclair uses only typewriters and photocopiers to make his zines. "I don't use
computers at all," Sinclair says. "One of the integral parts about a zine is
their honesty. With a typewriter you can't get rid of mistakes. Mistakes become
an integral part of the finished artwork. I think that's beautiful."
Luke Sinclair
Collectively, typewriter fans form the "typosphere", a community of
devotees, collectors, artists and makers. Their analog fetish is on show in
blogs, and they gather at "type-ins", events held in bars, bookshops and even on
New York City trains and Melbourne trams.
The typewriter revival does not end there. In September, actor Tom Hanks
released Hanx Writer, an iPad app that recreates the sound and pace of a manual
typewriter.
In 2009, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Cormac McCarthy's beaten-up Lettera
32 Olivetti was auctioned for more than $US250,000. McCarthy bought the machine
in 1963 for $50 and wrote all of his novels over 50 years on the Olivetti.
Explaining why a typewriter would fetch such a price, Des Cowley, of the State
Library of Victoria, says: "All the value is laden on by the spirit, ambience
and the mystique of the object ... not by any integral value". Cowley says
visitors to the State Library are fascinated to see the tools that helped
authors create their favourite books.
To this end, Helen Garner has loaned her
cherished Corona to the library, to be exhibited alongside her manuscript for
Monkey Grip. "It's a wonderful narrative and story for people," Cowley says. "It
will give a sense of a writer at work."
When Garner agreed to lend her typewriter to the library, the carriage was
jammed. Cowley searched the internet and found "Tom the typewriter guy" in
Carlton.
Tom Koska
Tom Koska has been fixing and selling typewriters since the 1960s in his
Elgin Street store. "He's one of the few ... left in Melbourne who can go under
the bonnet of a typewriter and fix it," Cowley says. "I went to visit him and
he remembered Helen [Garner] coming in, in the 1970s. She bought some of her
early typewriters from him. He was really chuffed to be working on her
typewriter again."
It was the curious hands of Garner's granddaughter that temporarily
disabled her Corona. "It's the first typewriter my grandchildren have ever seen
close up, or touched," she says. "They stand around it in awe. All that oil and
steel and moving parts ... and the tremendous clatter it makes – how primitive
it must seem to them." Garner remembers buying quarto paper in reams when "the
shop assistant counted out the sheets with a special flick of the wrist and
wrapped them in paper with string".
"When we were young the keys struck the paper with such authority and power
that on the other side of the sheet you could feel the indentations with your
fingertips," Garner says. "Now that was writing."
A younger Helen Garner
Helen Garner's Corona typewriter will be on display in the State Library of
Victoria's Mirror of the World exhibition from October.
*Justine Hyde is a director of the State Library of Victoria.
2 comments:
Always nice to hear of an author who love typewriters. Her Corona 3 looks factory fresh.
Very nice story! And I didn't spot any errors -- I suspect you must have been a research helper as well as an interviewee.
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