True motivations, revisited

I found myself revisiting Anthony Newman’s old posts again. Ukfountainpens.com now has a different writer, but I’m a big fan of the original - Ant’s blog was thought-provoking and juicy, with a unique energy. Today I’m circling back to True Motivations, in which Anthony writes about the factors that motivate him to buy, keep, and consider pens. It’s an important post that asks what might be intrinsic to us, what might be influenced by other people. I think this whole writeup is awesome. It’s raw, it’s honest, it’s relatable, and it continues to intrigue and bother me. I feel that I’m different, but maybe not all that different? Anthony discusses impulsivity, invented narratives, public image, prestige markers, and other factors as his major influences in acquiring pens.

“Whenever I do my collection soul-searching, these kinds of issues of motivation pop up. Essentially they boil down to whether I have this pen because of the enjoyment it gives me, alone in a dark room at my desk, or because of externally imposed reactions: fear of missing out, pride of showing off, and so on.” (Ukfountainpens)

How then can one know what is an intrinsic motivation to acquire a pen - and what is peer modeling, or peer pressure?

But what if we cannot truly know? What if the two are intertwined?

Let’s take a look at how some of these factors shake out for me. First, impulsivity and spur of the moment purchases. I can’t say at all that I am impulsive. My problem is the opposite: I overthink. My deliberateness is not always a positive thing. For example, I will skip a deal when I am not ready to buy a pen, even if it is on my wishlist. With the current state of the economy, the deals I missed won’t be coming back, and the pens I could afford on deep discounts are now unaffordable. This dynamic frustrates me; but not enough to become more impulsive.

But my deliberateness, too, has roots in community. I visited Portland earlier this month, and of course I went to Oblation. It was wonderful. I bought no pens - I was tempted, but the pens they had were not on my list. I bought a single bottle of ink, which was on my list. But if I did not care about the community, perhaps I would not know about this store at all. A pen friend sent me a sample of Sitka Spruce, which I loved and finished - so I put a full bottle on my list. But without that connection, I would not want the ink.

Oblation is a wonderful stationery store in Portland, OR.

Prestige and public image don’t hold much appeal for me. I’m an author/professor in a tweed jacket. I’m odd and don’t really enjoy being in the spotlight. I don’t care about expensive clothes or bags either. My Franklin Christoph backpack has served me well for the last four years, and it’s been getting a little frayed; it has occurred to me that I might want to replace it at some point. I haven’t yet.

Carrying rare, higher end pens is not such a conversation starter — in my social context (Midwestern US, academia) stationery people are more likely to connect with a TWSBI than with a Conid. A TWSBI is approachable. People are happy to see a colorful TWSBI with ink sloshing around, they ask questions, they are happy to know that you can easily buy them downtown at Wonderfair. Anything pricier is usually met with bewilderment.

So why not a TWSBI? I’ve owned a few Ecos over the years, and have given them away. They’re nice, and they’re a great value, but they feel too plasticky. Their nibs bore me. It’s not a sensory or aesthetic match.

Excellent book, excellent pen, both obscure and difficult to source, both meaningful, but I don’t think prestige matters much - very few people know who Ibn Kammūna was, very few people would recognize a Conid, I don’t care if people recognize them or not (although if you want to talk to me about medieval Jewish philosophers OR fountain pens, that’s cool!)

I’m motivated by craftsmanship, and by sensory delight. I admire beautiful and well-made things, and I am very particular about the feeling of the pen in my hand and the nib on paper. I write a lot, and my pens are writers, and they also soothe me and provide emotional support. The Gathering is for me, not for public image or prestige.

But I also love to carry my pen case with me. The Gathering pens are my tools and my friends, but it’s also a little signal to other people that I am a pen person. Since I move in the world with my pens, they are a part of my self-presentation.

My Conid has been getting a lot of usage since Kirk Speer fixed it. I’m running out of ink in a bulkfiller, and it’s oddly satisfying.

About community influences, Anthony writes:

“… as a collector, as part of a community, those externalities are a big part of why I’m here. I feel proud when people like my collection (can you be proud of something and not want to show it off to someone?). I get a thrill when I bag a limited edition that will surely sell out, because who doesn’t like winning? I enjoy sharing my expertise (expertise I’ve mostly accumulated by buying and selling lots of pens), because who doesn’t like feeling valued by others? If I was dumped on a desert island with no internet access, and purely writing my journal for me, I don’t think urushi and arco would be so important to me.

It’s almost impossible for me to excise a single pen from this web and decide whether it’s adding value to my life. It’s all about perspectives and the stories we tell ourselves.”

I don’t feel proud when people admire my collection. I find it a bit awkward. The Gathering is not an accomplishment. It’s not a book that makes people feel hope in a vast darkness. It’s not a life saved or a person raised. The Gathering simply is. I love using them for my obscure little purposes, whether I’m at home or among others.

But of course externalities are important to me. I’m writing a blog, after all! I believe that FOMO is a communal sentiment — we are tempted by pens-of-the-moment because we want to be a part of community activities, this is social. I learned about many of the pens I have, had, or want from other people. My Conid Tiger is certainly one of those; I wanted it because of the hype, but also tigers are Gatheringy, and orange is very much my color, and I appreciated the engineering. The bigger question is not why I wanted it, but why it stayed, even though I could not use it for almost a year, and I could easily resell it, and I’ve resold many more pens than I kept.

The Scribo Feel Maddalena with scribbles. Ink is Montblanc 80 Days “Brown.”

The stories we tell ourselves are important. My internal narrative of the Scribo Maddalena is that it is a good traveler. It has been with me to Estonia, and now to Oregon. I’m sure that I’ll take it with me again in the future.

Is this an invented narrative? Certainly! I have no idea if the Maddalena is a better traveler than my other pens - but I’ve enjoyed writing with it on my travels. I think ultimately all narratives are invented, though many storylines are also ancient, and reinvented repeatedly. Narratives help us shape an understanding, a path, in the murk of life’s complexity.

Not every narrative is going to be successful. The Aurora Internazionale was my promotion pen, and that narrative worked because I got promoted, and also loved the pen. I’ve bought some pens to commemorate major award nominations and later sold them. Becoming an Ursula K. Le Guin Prize Finalist was one of the biggest moments of my life. I bought a forest-themed pen because it reminded me of Ursula. It was too chonky, and felt plasticky in the hand, so I sold it. Every day, a hundred different things remind me of Ursula. I’ve drafted the bulk of this post from Portland, Oregon. On one of my last days there, I walked up Thurman street to Ursula’s house. I looked at the trees she looked at. I knocked on the door, and was invited in.

This does not need a commemorative pen.

But if I wanted one, I could certainly narrativize it.

A tile mural on Thurman, not too far from Ursula’s house. She did not write about it, I think it was installed after her time.

Our true motivations are often murky. I do not see a way to neatly reduce them to intrinsic or external. We are in the world, and the world is a mess, and so many of us are struggling to find a path in it. Navigating between the many horrors and injustices of the day, it’s often hard to feel anchored or hopeful. What is one pen more, or one pen less? What is one word? What is one world?

The Scribo Maddalena on a leather notebook.

Still, if I had to name only one motivation, I would say that it’s beauty. Nothing else can save my soul like beauty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I want to behold my pens. And also to hold them. They delight me.