Ink’s past and future explored

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 20/12/2014 (4227 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

In a new study of the history and beauty of ink, Ted Bishop invites us to think about our relationship with ink and come to a new appreciation of a substance that, he argues “binds us.”

Bishop is a professor of English at the University of Alberta. He is the author of Riding with Rilke, a book reflecting on his life’s unlikely pairing of two defining experiences: a motorcycle accident and academic work in archives. The book, published in 2006, was shortlisted for the Governor General’s Award for Non-Fiction.

In his new book, Bishop covers a wide range of topics related to the history of ink’s use, manufacture and marketing. Interested in the possibility that ink’s ubiquity might come to an end in an increasingly digital future, Bishop finds proof — in the growing interest in fountain-pens and the development of new markets for boutique inks — that its appeal is alive and well.

Bishop describes ink as “a substance so common it is invisible.” The knowledge he shares about it is impressive.

He travels great distances to study, and there is a good deal of entertaining misadventure in the mix. He rides by motorbike for days to make a dangerously flammable ink with a Texan master craftsman; he endures a dangerous journey by bus to view valuable Tibetan wood-block stamps; he is the victim of an aggressive display of hospitality by a hard-drinking factory manager.

Bishop travels to Argentina, where he talks with ballpoint pen innovator Laszlo Biro’s daughter about her father’s fascinating life and career. Bishop’s hard work grinding charred sheep bones to make into ink yields a disappointingly gritty substance, but also gifts him with great insights into ink’s production.

Some readers might find his company a little irksome. Bishop rarely passes up an opportunity to comment on the sexual appeal of the women he encounters. Waitresses in She Xian are criticized for wearing a type of stocking that “completely negates the eroticism of the form fitting qi pao with its long slit up the side.” A successful marketing manager for a Swiss pen manufacturer dresses in a manner “that was stylish without being sexy (which of course made it so).”

Bishop seems not to notice that his characterization of women stresses their appearance while his discussions of the men in his book prioritizes their ingenuity or determination.

In an awkward moment in an otherwise engaging chapter on tattoos, Bishop comments on his students’ tattoos. He explains: “one student who sat in the front row had a bird on her chest, the wingtips just below the collarbone, and the eye was drawn there… The bird was there all semester, highlighted by scoop-necked tops, but the next it disappeared behind high-necked blouses.” Bishop wonders at the change, but readers will likely conclude the professor’s eying of his undergraduate’s chest had a role in it.

That said, some of the most moving passages in this book are ones in which Bishop draws on his experiences and expertise as a literature professor. The book is enriched by an impressive range of literary references. Bishop’s discussion of Chinese poetry and ink imagery is particularly rich.

Bishop’s fascinating, informative, book will interest a diverse readership but will be especially appreciated by readers who enjoy the pleasures of both a nicely printed page and a well-made pen.

 

Vanessa Warne teaches literature at the University of Manitoba.