SCRIPT AND SCRIBBLE

When I was in kindergarten I remember wandering up to the desk of my teacher, Miss Cindy (we never knew her last name), and beholding her rapidly jotting down a note in cryptic, connected shapes. “Why are you writing sloppy?”, I asked confusedly, mystified at what may as well have been Egyptian hieroglyphics from my childish vantage point.

Miss Cindy raised her eyes and indulgently replied: “It’s not sloppy, it’s cursive writing”. Unconvinced, I told my mother that afternoon how Miss Cindy couldn’t make her letters and instead slashed strange scrawlies all over her paper. Mom smiled and told me it was real writing for grownups. I promptly forgot all about it as I prepared to play with my toys, secretly convinced yet again that adults were more then slightly bonkers.

Then it was my turn to learn cursive. It was third grade and Sister Regina Eileen patiently watched twenty-some students laboriously drawing circles on practice pads. Up, down, up down--the monotony, I recall, was stupefying. The Palmer Method was rigorously applied, and while I could barely move past basic arithmetic in the afternoon, penmanship class in the morning found me a most willing and capable student. And I felt so very sophisticated: I was writing like grown-ups while block letters remained the province of little kids like my sister. I won a Palmer Method Award for the best penmanship when I was in fifth grade and am still proud of it; mostly because my overachieving sibling, who won veritably every other academic honor in both grade- and high school, never had one bestowed on her (tee hee--love ya, Heather!)

Script and Scribble: The Rise and Fall of Handwriting by Kitty Burns Florey details the history of how the art and craft of penmanship came about and its current status of rapid decline. Burns Florey was a parochial schoolchild herself, having been instructed in Palmer ways by Sister Victorine. However, Palmer Method was the most utilized instructional tool for cursive script across America’s educational frontiers for decades. The volume does more than detail Palmer Method. The very history of writing tools, from cuneiform and hieroglyphics to quills and ink are thoroughly yet engagingly addressed. Graphology, the pseudo-science of examining personal script and learning about the psyche of the writer therein, is also covered. Palmer’s immediate predecessor, Spencerian script, was something I could not have identified before reading Script and Scribble. For an example of it, consult any can of a certain soft drink—the Coca-Cola trademark is written in Spencerian script.

Not much is made of the Zaner-Bloser school of handwriting, which I’d only heard of recently. A direct descendant of Palmer, it's more truncated and, frankly, much less appealing visually (even if it supposedly easier to learn). I scoff at it. Palmer is the only way to go.

Along with Ms. Burns-Florey, I decry the inattention penmanship receives in our day, particularly where pupils of elementary school are concerned. Penmanship is the most personal tool anyone possesses as a means of communication. Our hand is as unique and special as our voice. I personally enjoy calligraphy (the art of formal script) and am thankful my parents gave me a Sheaffer fountain pen set for my birthday when I was thirteen. Keyboarding is a wonderful tool; I am typing this entry up on a computer keyboard this very moment. I can scarcely imagine not having access to word processors or email. I receive dozens of handwritten requests for genealogy every year which I strain to decipher while silently pleading with the writers of said missives to discover the wonders of Microsoft Word.

However, there’s an incomparable grace and elegance to a carefully scripted greeting, and I hope more of us pause to reflect on our handwriting habits (or lack thereof) upon considering Script and Scribble. The Main Library's copy of this delightful tome is at NEW 652.1 Flo; our collection also boasts several volumes on how to practice calligraphy as well as three actual textbooks on the Palmer Method. Austin Norman Palmer (December 22, 1860– November 16, 1927), R.I.P.