History in the Margins Has a Birthday–and a Giveaway

It's hard to believe, but we've been hanging out here on the Margins for four (4!) years. It started as an experiment; it's turned into a conversation. I'm honored that you read. I feel even more honored when you respond, whether it's in the form of a comment here, an email, sharing a link to a post on Twitter, or talking back to your computer screen. Over the last four years you've expanded on the topic, asked questions, recommended books, given me ideas, and, on one occasion, administered a well deserved smack on the wrist.* Thank you.

Since it wouldn't be a birthday party without presents, I have a handful of books to give away.** If you want your name to be put in the mid-sized mixing bowl, leave a comment or send me an e-mail before June 1. Tell me what kind of history you like to read, what period calls your name, who your historical hero is, or which of these books calls your name:

Cynthia Stokes Brown. Big History: From the Big Bang to the Present.

Richard Davenport-Hines. Voyagers of the Titanic: Passengers, Sailors, Shipbuilders, Aristocrats, and the Worlds They Came From.

Elizabeth de Waal. The Exile's Return.

Darrin M. McMahon. Divine Fury: A History of Genius.

TWO COPIES:Nicola Phillips: The Profligate Son, or, A True Story of Family Conflict, Fashionable Vice, and Financial Ruin in Regency England.

At the risk of sounding like a presidential candidate,here's to four more years!

*Scroll down to the comment by Wyatt. It's worth reading. Wyatt, if you're still reading, I want you to know I've used your comments as a touchstone ever since.

**Six books, six chances to win.,

Image courtesy of the Library of Congress

Ballpoint–The Tale of a Tool

ballpoint

Like many readers, writers, and scholars, I am an unashamed office supply junkie. I trail through my local Office Depot with the same delight I accord to grocery shopping* and only slightly less fascination than I feel in my local independent bookstore. (Go Seminary Co-op!) I like my pens to have a fine-point and my notebooks to be college-ruled. I've never met a specialized pad of paper that didn't catch my imagination and I hoard my stash of hard-to-find summary paper.

I always knew that ballpoint pens were a relatively modern invention, but I never knew how we made the leap from fountain pen to ballpoint.** I found the answer in György Moldova's Ballpoint: A Tale of Genius and Grit, Perilous Times, and the Invention that Changed the Way We Write.

Although his work is little known in English, Moldova has been Hungary's best-selling author for more than forty years. In Ballpoint, Moldova tells the story of two other notable Hungarians largely unknown in the west: Lázló Biró and Ander Goy, the inventors of the ballpoint pen.

The story of the pen's development is interesting in itself, beginning with Biró life as a Jewish journalist in interwar Budapest, frustrated by a leaking fountain pen. Biró's technical difficulties and triumphs are told in a clear, non-technical manner. His search for financial partners is an object lesson in understanding legal documents before you sign them.

But what really makes the book is Moldova's use of Biro and Goy's story as a lens through which to view the troubled history of Hungary in the mid-twentieth century. Biró escaped from fascism by fleeing first to Paris and then to Buenos Aires. Once in Buenos Aires, he traded increasingly large percentages of the rights to his as-yet-undeveloped pen for help in getting his family safely out of Hitler's Europe. His erstwhile partner and fellow inventor, Goy, remained in Hungary. He prospered under fascist rule, but lost everything when the new communist government nationalized his company. By the end, both partners had lost their rights to the pen as a result of financial deceptions and legal chicanery.

It makes me wonder if there's a heroic story behind the invention of, say, the stapler.

*That is not sarcasm. I love grocery stores--ethnic, mainstream, or neighborhood bodega. Just ask My Own True Love, who patiently accompanies me to grocery stores, farmers' markets, spice shops, and cheese emporia wherever we happen to be.

**I had a brief and inky flirtation with dime store fountain pens when I was ten or so. As far as I'm concerned, the romance of the ink bottle is dead.

The guts of this review appeared many moons ago in Shelf Awareness for Readers.

Punctuation, grammar, and like that

Mary Norris

Anyone who comes to History in the Margins solely for historical tidbits may want to abandon ship today. Instead of committing my usual history-geekery, I intend to talk about the most appealing book I’ve ever read about the mechanics of writing.*

One of the things that instructors of writers say with some frequency is that before you break the rules of grammar (or story structure, or punctuation or physics) you need to know them. Mary Norris, the author of Between You and Me: Confessions of a Comma Queen, knows the rules: she’s been a copy editor at The New Yorker for some thirty years. That’s a credential that would earn her book a place on my reference shelf alongside Fowler, Strunk and White, and the Chicago Manual of Style--or at least as close as the rules of alphabetizing allow. But credentials alone wouldn’t inspire me to read Between You and Me over meals instead of my current meal-time novel--or to bring it to the attention of the Marginites with evangelical zeal.

Norris is witty, irreverent, and a world-class storyteller. Between You and Me is as much memoir as it is grammar guide. There is plenty of practical information, presented with absolute clarity; in the future I’ll turn to Norris when uncertain about the correct use of my personal bête noir, the hyphen. But the grammatical advice is given almost as if it were the punchline to a personal story or the jumping-off point for an essay on a larger subject.** Along the way, Norris takes the reader on engaging side trips: Noah Webster and spelling reform, the invention of the comma in the Renaissance, the Paul A Johnson Pencil Sharpener Museum (now on my road-trip list).

In short, Norris takes what is often the driest of subjects, written in the most pedantic style, and makes it sparkle. If writing is an important part of your life, you need this book.

*Those of you who read History in the Margins via e-mail may not realize it, but the subtitle reads “A blog about history, writing, and writing about history.” If you want to verify this, just click the header in your e-mail and it will take you to the History in the Margins site. This trick is useful to remember when I embed a video or a bit of music.

**I draw your attention to the chapter titled “The Problem of Heesh”--an extended consideration of the larger questions of gender in language and society that begins with the vexed problem of the third personal singular pronoun in English.