Mon Bon Voyage

Mon Dieu! Un, deux, trois! Crème brûlée! Mardi gras!

Something about this J Herbin Vert Réséda makes me reach for any and all French words that are tucked away in hidden corners of my alleged mind. It’s a beautiful green, which is not something you’ll see me type very often. I’m not overly fond of green inks, but this one rates high on the Moxie Meter and has both my respect and attention.

If you like beaucoup saturation, use this with a wet nib. You’ll not be disappointed. If you want something less énergique, a drier nib will provide excellent results.

I was expecting dramatic shading from this ink but somehow could only demonstrate something subtle. We’ll call this a failure on my part.

Where feathering and bleeding are concerned, Vert Réséda is perfectly civilized on both Rhodia and Clairefontaine. When used on Moleskin paper, a hint of cantankerous behavior will be noted.

Drying time is excellent when applied in moderation. If you prefer wet nibs, then you’re already accustomed to a slightly longer dryer cycle.

If you like green ink and have not yet tried Vert Réséda, I’d advocate its placement on your shopping list. If you’ve had trouble finding a green ink to suit your needs and fancy (or your fancy needs), Vert Réséda might well be the magic mix. As for me, I’m off to practice French…

Please Note: You are not seeing the exact color of this ink. You are seeing the color as interpreted by my scanner, as compressed using JPEG, and as displayed by your monitor. Is it close to the real thing? Probably somewhat close. But exact it is not.

Ergo, therefore and hence, if you would like an honest to goodness, genuine, hand-written sample of this ink, just leave a comment stating such desire. I’ll be happy to send you a postcard*.

* Offer valid world-wide for as long as I have this ink on-hand. Offer void where prohibited, licensed or taxed. This item is furnished “as is”. No warranty is provided, whether express, implied or statutory, including, but not limited to, any warranty of merchatability or fitness for a particular purpose or any warranty that the contents of the item will be error-free.

---

.

Aurora 88

circa 1950

Nikargenta Cap

Flexible Medium Nib

5 3/8″ : 13.7cm Capped

Serial No. 44 73 99

.

.

Imagine you could send your Parker 51 away to college. Imagine that the school of choice was located in northern Italy. Your 51 would learn Italian, ride a Vespa, embrace soccer, develop a fondness for fashion and be exposed to cutting edge design.

Your pen would return refined, more elegant and oddly sexy. Your pen would return… an Aurora 88!

Now don’t get your tines bent out of shape. I don’t mean to besmirch your precious 51. A near and dear to me 51 has been a member of my own crew for over two decades.

But there’s no avoiding the fact that the (vintage) Aurora 88 is superior to the Parker 51. And why would this not be the case? There’s no doubt in my mind that the 88′s designer, Capitano Marcello Nizzoli, was charged with the single objective of creating a pen that could compete with the 51. He excelled in his assignment.

Aesthetically, the lines and details of the Aurora are simply more pleasing to the eye. The cap of the 88 is only slightly longer than that of the 51, but as the 88 is not burdened by a prone-to-discoloration jewel, the streamlined appearance gives an illusion of more length. The ring separating the turning knob from the pen body adds subtle yet important visual appeal. And there’s an ink window! Who doesn’t love an ink window?

Functionally, the Aurora trumps the Parker by virtue of a piston filling mechanism. There’s a reason that even modern converters use a piston – the system works and works well. Additionally, the 88′s nib features less hood and more flex. The more exposed nib provides for easier inspection and cleaning while the flex allows for creativity on all points of sail. It’s a fun pen!

Certainly I’ll never force my 51 to walk the plank. It enjoys permanent station. Still, I know that I will favor the 88 when assigning daily duties. In fact, I’m looking to fill a few more quarter berths with these fine Italians.

---

Kritzler Oversize

circa 1925

Rosewood

Kritzler 14kt No. 8 Nib

Gold Washed Lever and Clip

Gold Colored Cap Band (unknown metal)

Barrel Imprint: L. Kritzler Pen Co.

5 1/4” Capped

.

Although most of any particular pen’s history is unknown, I’m still attracted to vintage models specifically because they have a past. I contemplate the pens in my collection and I ask the unanswerable: Who first bought this pen? Where? Why? What has it written? How many owners has it known? Has it been well used? How has it survived?

I rarely bother to ask who designed the pen or who assembled it. Most of my pens were manufactured by large, well-known pen companies. I assume they were designed by brilliant engineers and assembled in comfortable factories by nameless yet well-paid employees.

The pen featured in this post, however, begs me to ask: Who made this pen?

There can be no doubt that the maker of this pen was named Kritzler. The name appears on the barrel, on the clip, on the lever and on the nib. Kritzler’s first initial, L, is part of the barrel’s imprint. The initials LK are found in a circle on the lever’s end.

That’s probably as much fact as can be culled, but that doesn’t stop us from looking for more clues…

From a 1917 World War I Draft Registration Card completed in New York, we know that there was a Louis Kritzler living at 2105 Clinton Ave., New York City (The Bronx). His birthplace is listed as Mishkoltz, Hungary, his date of birth as February 8, 1887. This Mr. Kritzler had a wife and child, was medium of build, had black eyes, black hair, was not bald, and was in possession of two eyes, four limbs and all commonly attached extremities. He was described as stout. Given the other two choices of slender and medium, we can surmise that stout was the 1917 politically correct term for overweight.

The registration card also lists Louis Kritzler’s place of employment as Armeny & Marion. The Armeny & Marion Co. made pens at one time. Their address of record in 1890 matches the address on the registration card; 90 Nassaue St., New York.

Adding to the growing body of circumstantial evidence is Mr. Kritzler’s occupation as listed on the card: Gold Pens

I’ve been led to believe that what we call a nib today was commonly referred to as a pen up until the 1920′s. This would imply that Louis Kritzler was actually a maker of gold nibs.

So we have an L. Kritzler associated with the pen industry. But does all of the above conclusively prove that the L. Kritzler who made, assembled or at least arranged for the creation of my pen was a Hungarian immigrant living in New York City in the early 1900′s? Not really. But just how many L. Kritzler’s could there be in the world? And how many of those are listed on official government documents as gold pen tradesmen? Probably only this Mr. Kritzler. For my money, he’s my man.

Now I can go back to the even more elusive questions: Who first bought this pen? Why? What has it written?…

---

Note: Most, if not all, of the above information was garnered from a thread at the Fountain Pen Network found here. A special “Thank You!” to FPN User antoniosz who found and posted the registration card within that discussion.

---