THE UPCOMING 2022 MELBOURNE PEN SHOW!!

Just thirty-odd days from now is the 2022 MELBOURNE PEN SHOW!!

This is the first show that Melbourne has had since 2019, with the event obviously unable to run during the height of the COVID pandemic, but with things settling down, this, the oldest show of its kind in the Southern Hemisphere, is now back on track!

The Melbourne Pen Show takes place at…

The Malvern Town Hall. (Cnr. Glenferrie Road & High Street, Armadale, Melbourne, VIC. Australia).
9:00am – 4:00pm.
20th of November, SUNDAY, 2022.

Admission is $10.00. Kids can come in for free!


There are over two dozen sellers and exhibitors, and over three dozen tables full of stuff to look at, and buy!

So if you’re in Melbourne, coming to Melbourne, or planning to visit Melbourne in November, drop in and have a look!

We’ve got pens, pencils, stationery, leather-goods, desk accessories, writing accessories, antiques, pen-storage and maintenance supplies, and much more besides! The Melbourne Pen Show is the largest writing instruments and accessories fair in Australia, and south of the equator! Drop by and find out for yourself.

PLEASE BRING CASH. Most sellers will not do EFTPOS.

 

My New Facebook History Group!

For those who don’t already know, I do have a Group on Facebook now, for the discussion and sharing of history!

It covers the years from 1800 – 1960, and all aspects of history, art, and popular culture during this time period. Feel free to join and interact, and invite like-minded people who might find it interesting. All I ask is that discussions remain relevant to the scope of the group, that folks do their best to remain polite and civil, and that people don’t complain about the contents of the group being “offensive!”.

Here’s the brutal truth, folks: History doesn’t care if, when, how, or even how much, it offends you. So announcements of how offensive you find it, regardless of what it is, will see you removed from the group. Declarations like that only cause issues and problems for the other members, and I would dearly like to avoid this.

Other than that – have at it!

As for the group?…

You can find it here!

 

My New History & Antiques Group on Facebook!

For any of my regular readers who are also on Facebook, and who have a passion for antiques, and history, I have created a new group for like-minded history-buffs and antiques-collectors to hang out!

You can find the link to the group here!

The scope of the group covers all aspects of history between the years 1800 – 1960. So that means art, culture, music, movies, architecture, famous and obscure historical events, persons, wars, social history…the list goes on…all over the world. The group rules are in the description, and are pretty straightforward and obvious. Don’t do anything silly, enjoy the group, and share the group and its contents with any other like-minded Facebook friends!

 

Learning a Trade: Guilds and Guildhalls

If you visit any major European city – for example – Brussels, or Amsterdam, London, or Paris, and you go to the “old city” or the “ancient quarter” in the very heart of the metropolis, chances are, you’ll stumble across all kinds of amazing, beautiful buildings. Among these buildings – are guildhalls.

Beautifully-faced guildhalls in the Dutch city of Antwerp.

Guildhalls are all over Europe. Almost every major European city was bound to have at least one – usually – several, sometimes all clustered in one place, sometimes, spread out around the city, but they are there, if you know where, and how to find them. During my trips to Europe, I was fortunate enough to see the Guildhall in London, and some of the beautiful ones in the Netherlands when I visited Amsterdam. But then, you might ask – what is a guildhall? What makes it so special? And for that matter – what the hell is a guild?

I am so glad you asked. Let’s find out together!

What exactly is a Guild?

“I say, Jeeves! What an extraordinary talent! Could one inquire as to…”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge the ingredients, sir”.
“No! Of course not! Secrets of the guild, and all that, eh?”
“Precisely, sir!”

– “Jeeves & Wooster”

A guild is defined as an organisation, or group of people, with shared interests, goals, crafts or skills, which is formed in order to protect their mutual interest, provide support to each other, and to further the improvement of their craft or interest – whatever that happens to be.

Using this definition – how far back can guilds be traced?

Believe it or not, but – thousands of years!

The first guilds – of a sort – were established in Ancient Rome, but the system of guilds that most people think about today were largely created in Medieval (476 – 1350) or Renaissance times (1350 – 1600), and they were established all over Europe, to such an extent that almost every major city was bound to have several of them – and believe it or not – guilds are still being established today – the London Worshipful Company of Art Scholars was created…in 2010!

What is a Guild For? What does it Do?

The purpose of a guild is to regulate a trade or profession, to guard and record trade or craft secrets, and to keep the trade alive. Within a particular community (say – a city), guilds regulated and certified the work done by various craftsmen or professionals within the community. In an age when knowledge was passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, master to apprentice, when records were hard to keep, and literacy was minimal – the best way to ensure that the best of the best interests of a trade or skill or profession were being both protected, regulated, and taught – was to consolidate all this knowledge into one organisation – a guild!

And this trade or profession could be literally anything – writers, weavers, tailors, silversmiths, blacksmiths, accountants, barbers…London even has a guild for taxi-drivers! Guilds existed to preserve a craft or profession’s secrets, skills and histories, and to maintain standards of professionalism, as well as to oversee the continued improvement and education of those who wished to participate in that particular craft or profession, regardless of what it actually was. The closest modern equivalent to a medieval guild is like a modern trade union, where paid-up members receive benefits and have a say in how their trade or profession is regulated, and what it will, or will not do.

How Does a Guild Operate?

When a guild was formed, it first required somewhere to call home – a guildhall, or a guildhall stand-in, if a purpose-built guildhall did not yet exist. The next thing it required was a register – a list of all its members – who they were, what their positions and skills were, and what ranks they held. In older times, these registers were laboriously written longhand by a scribe, and every update or addition required that a whole new document be created from scratch.

The next thing that a guild needed was to establish a body and hierarchy of members. Guilds were broadly broken up into craft guilds, and merchant guilds; craft guilds are the most well-known, and to enter a craft guild required a lengthy training process. This is covered below…

The Apprentice

If you wanted to be part of a guild, you needed to have a trade or craft, and join the guild which catered to that trade or craft. To earn the right to be a craftsman or tradesman, you needed to complete the necessary training and education – known as an apprenticeship. An apprentice was a novice, a student, a pupil of the craft or profession which he hoped to make his life’s work. A newbie, as we’d call it today.

Apprentices almost always started as teenagers, usually between 13-15 years of age. To be made an apprentice, or to carry out an apprenticeship, the hopeful craftsman first had to find someone to teach him the tips and tricks of the trade. To do this, he would visit the guildhall of his selected trade, and seek out someone who would be his mentor – a master craftsman who required an apprentice, and who would offer him a position. If the apprentice accepted, then a document – a Certificate of Indenture – was drawn up.

An apprentice’s Certificate of Indenture.
Note the wavy ‘indented’ line at the top of the page.

Depending on the craft or trade that the apprentice wished to enter, he might find the act of finding a master to teach him, to be easier than he might expect. It was very common for the children of master craftsmen to follow in the professions of their fathers. In this instance, the apprentice’s own father would train them in their chosen profession. In this way, generations of craftsmen could all work within a single family, and many famous craftsmen throughout history, entered their professions this way. Paul Revere, of Revolutionary War fame, was apprenticed to his father, who was a silversmith. John Harrison, the famous clockmaker, was apprenticed to his father, who was a carpenter. But just because you got to join the family business didn’t mean that you could escape the strictures of the day – you still had to fill out your certificate, sign it, and agree to it.

The certificate – colloquially known as one’s “indentures” or “indenture papers” – was a contract between the Master Craftsman, and the Apprentice. It stipulated in black and white what the Master owed his apprentice, and likewise, what the Apprentice owed the Master. Both parties would sign the indentures (there was always at least two) and then it was certified by a legal official such as a notary, judge, or a member of the guild.

Silversmith Paul Revere Junior,
holding a silver teapot

The document was then sealed, dated, and finally – torn in half. The wavy, curving lines that were made along the break in the paper was what gave the document its name – the line wasn’t straight – it was never straight – it was always ‘indented’ – wavering, irregular and erratic. This is why the documents were known as ‘indentures’. This was done deliberately so that it would be impossible for either party to create a fake agreement later on, changing any of the terms or conditions previously agreed upon, since both documents had to be presented at the same time, and they both had to match up along the same wavy, indented line when they were put together.

Apprenticeships lasted a very long time – the usual length of time was seven years. In this way, an apprentice completed his apprenticeship when he was in his early twenties. In that seven years, an apprentice was expected to learn, and be taught, all the skills and tips and tricks of his chosen trade or profession. Apprentices typically did all the grunt-work. Looking after tools, doing the simple, unskilled jobs, cleaning the workshop, lighting the fire, understanding how the implements and tools were used, and how various techniques and finishes were applied or carried out.

Near the end of their apprenticeships, to prove that they were paying attention, and actually knew what they were doing, apprentices had to pass, what we would today, call a ‘practical examination’. In this, they had to prove their skills to their master by creating what was called a ‘journeyman piece’ – this piece would incorporate all the various skills, techniques and methods that they had learned throughout their apprenticeships, and the better it was, the more likely they were to progress in their profession. Tailors had to make clothes, carpenters might make furniture, a cabinetmaker might try to build a chest of drawers, a silversmith might try to make a silver beaker or tumbler, and so on.

The point of the journeyman piece was to show that he had attained the necessary skills to move up to the next rank – that of a journeyman craftsman. If he had, then he had successfully completed his apprenticeship, and could move on upwards…

The Journeyman

The next step up for the budding craftsman was to be a journeyman. A journeyman was any craftsman or skilled tradesman who had successfully completed the contract of his indenture, and was now considered to have mastered the basics of his craft. The next thing he had to do was to gain experience. Experience was gained by working as an employee of a master craftsman. Not an apprentice – who was a student – but as an actual paid worker.

The word ‘Journeyman’ comes from the French ‘Journee’ – meaning ‘day’ – a craftsman had now advanced from being an apprentice, to being a day-labourer – someone who was literally paid per-day of work by his employer. Journeymen were more free in their work than apprentices – they could have their own families and private lives, they could own their own property and come and go from work each day as they pleased. This was in contrast with an apprentice, who typically lived with his master in his master’s house, with the master expected to feed, clothe, and house, as well as train and educate his pupil.

While journeymen were apprentices who had successfully completed their apprenticeships, they were not yet considered fully-fledged artisans in the sense that they did not have the right to employ someone else to work under them, however, a journeyman – again, unlike an apprentice – had the right to demand payment for their day’s work.

If, or when, a journeyman decided that he had had enough of working for ‘the man’, then a journeyman could, if he had the skill, apply to become a master craftsman. Just as an apprentice had to complete a journeyman piece to become a journeyman, a journeyman had to complete a masterpiece in order to become a master craftsman. However, while a journeyman piece was judged by a master, a masterpiece was not judged by another master – but by several masters!

See, the only way to actually join a guild was to prove to the master craftsmen of that guild that you deserved the privilege, and had the skills, to make it worthwhile to accept you as a member. So if you wanted to try and become a master craftsman, then your masterpiece was submitted – not to one master – but to several masters! And if they all agreed that your masterpiece really was a masterpiece – and that you had shown that you had exceptional skill – you would be granted the title of master!

The Master Craftsman

As a Master Craftsman, you were now able to carry out your desired trade as you wished. This meant that you could open your own business, hire apprentices, set your own prices, and decide what, when, why, where, and how you worked. However, there were still restrictions.

See, to be a master craftsman, you had to follow a sort of ‘Code of Conduct’, and to ensure that you did follow this code, a lot of cities insisted that any craftsman or skilled labourer working within the bounds of the city had to register themselves with the guildhall of their specific craft. So, you might be a master silversmith, but you couldn’t work as a silversmith in a city without first registering yourself as a silversmith at the city’s silversmithing guildhall.

Registering with your specific guild meant that you had to follow specific rules and regulations. While you were free to do what you wanted, more or less, you were also prevented from doing certain things – for example – you couldn’t talk about your profession – guilds existed to protect the interests of their members – and these interests included any trade or industrial secrets, processes or methods which their members carried out – so you couldn’t divulge secret recipes, or special methods or experiments – to anybody outside the guild. Punishments for doing so were surprisingly severe, and usually included some form of public humiliation.

While this might sound extreme, being a master craftsman or merchant registered with your particular guild also came with a lot of perks – paying your membership fees ensured all kinds of benefits, and guilds operated specifically to benefit their members. The very word “guild” comes from the German word “Gelt” and the Old English word “Gield” – meaning “Payment, or money”.

In this way, guilds were a sort of insurance firm or benevolent society – they provided financial assistance to help master craftsmen start up their own businesses, provided poor relief if they lost their business, shared trade secrets, and regulated working conditions.

Unsurprisingly, guilds could become extremely powerful – so much so that they could, if they desired, not pay, or pay very few – taxes – especially if the guild handled a trade or craft that was particularly important.

The Decline of the Guilds

Guilds and their guildhalls remained prominent through much of the Middle Ages (476AD – ca. 1400), the Renaissance (1400-1600) and much of the Early Modern period (ca. 1600-1800). However, by the time of the Vcitorian era, guilds started losing a lot of the prominence, power and influence that they had once held for over a thousand years. Many factors led to their eventual downfall.

Guilds carried out a lot of functions – they regulated prices, training, education, keeping of records, and countless other things – but they were also – in a sense – monopolies. If you wanted to trade as a particular craftsman or merchant within a particular city – you had to join the city guild dedicated to that craft or area of merchandise – no ifs, no buts – no join, no sell. Simple as that.

A lot of traders and craftsmen started seeing this as being detrimental to their trade – after all – why should a guildhall determine how much you can sell your stuff for? Why should it be a law that you HAD to join the guild just to trade within the city boundaries? Fair enough, they kept records and oversaw apprenticeships, but craftsmen and artisans started feeling that some guilds were simply getting too powerful for their own good, and shifting attitudes in the Victorian era saw guilds gradually decrease in power over the next hundred years.

By the mid-1800s, guilds had lost much of their power. Changing attitudes about work, and how trade and industrial secrets should be protected, sapped the guilds of their authority. Political changes such as the French Revolution of 1789, and the “Year of Revolutions” (1848), caused the guilds in many cities, sovereign states and city-states across Europe to be dissolved, and their functions taken over by modern companies and businesses, with laws enacted to cover the areas once protected or regulated by the guild system.

Guilds Today?

Guilds as we tend to think of them – as in, the Medieval European guilds, do not exist anymore. Guildhalls remain as historical landmarks and heritage protected buildings, but the organisations they housed are largely lost to history. Some organisations call themselves guilds, although this is mostly as a professional courtesy or nostalgic throwback, rather than having any actual resemblance to medieval guilds.

In London, there do still exist a number of “Worshipful Companies”, which operate similar to guilds, but the number of institutions that exist today, which are most like real medieval guilds are fast disappearing, if indeed they still exist.

 

Antique Tortoiseshell Dining Trousse

Chopsticks have always fascinated me. They’re simple, elegant, portable, robust, and compact. And, once you’ve mastered the use of chopsticks – almost anything can be used as chopsticks – I remember Jackie Chan in one of his early movies, where his character was trying to have lunch in his office – unable to find any actual chopsticks to eat his noodles with, he gave up and used a pair of pencils, instead!

Although these days, it’s common in many Asian households to have an entire drawer-compartment overflowing with chopsticks, and the only problem you face is trying to match them up when you need a pair to eat lunch with, in times past, chopsticks were highly-prized personal possessions, and it was common for people to each have their own pair. In some countries – such as Japan – this is still the case. At a time when chopsticks were hard to come by, once you owned a pair – you carried it with you everywhere!

Such was the case, when this trousse was made!

What is a Chopstick Trousse?

‘Trousse’ is a French word, which variously means “kit”, “case” or a type of compartmentalised container, used for storing implements, tools or utensils required for a specific task. This is a chopstick trousse, and its task is…eating!

Chopstick trousses were created back in the 1700s in northern China. Their use was encouraged after a law was passed by the Qianlong Emperor, which decreed that all Manchu-Chinese had to carry around a pair of chopsticks, and a knife, with which to eat their food. Manchurian and Mongolian dining habits and styles meant that a knife was an essential part of one’s eating utensils, since the knife would be used to slice or cut up one’s meat. The passing of this law was to ensure the preservation of Manchurian culture, since Manchus were a minority elite, ruling over the much larger Han Chinese population at the time.

A lot of people call these things Chinese or Japanese eating trousses. I’m not sure why, because they don’t come from Japan, and while they existed in China, they were never used by the Chinese. Japanese and Chinese dining customs don’t use knives – they didn’t then, they don’t now. Trousses like these were largely used by minorities.

The standard chopstick trousse comes with a single, thin, long-bladed knife, and a pair of chopsticks, which may, or may not be chained at the top (to prevent loss if they fall out). I have seen sets with two knives, and two sets of chopsticks, but the vast majority will have just the one knife, and one set of chopsticks.

The case, with the chopsticks and knife.

How is it Made?

Almost all trousses were made of wood – wood is easy to find, easy to carve and shape, and easy to stick together. This trousse is also made of wood. How trousses differed from each other, however, was in how they were decorated. Trousses could be embellished in any number of ways, from inlaying bone or silver, brass or nickel, leather, sharkskin, stingray, or in the case of my trousse – tortoiseshell.

The tortoiseshell – thin and flexible, would have been steamed – much like how you steam wood – to soften it – and when it was especially soft and flexible, the tortoiseshell was wrapped around the wooden body of the trousse, with a layer of glue in between, to adhere one to the other. A similar process would’ve been carried out to sheath the knife-handle in the same tortoiseshell.

What is it Made Of?

This trousse is made of wood (which makes up the body of the trousse and the handle on the knife), brass (the collar at the top of the trousse), tortoiseshell (the decorative overlay), silver (the chopsticks) and finally – the white collar and pommel on the knife are both made of bone. Bone was a very common material to make trousse accessories from – chopsticks, knife scales, hilts, collars and pommels were all made from bone. It was abundant, cheap, or free, easy to carve, and could be polished to a beautiful whiteness – and much easier to find than ivory!

Are Trousses Common?

Fairly common, yes. I suspect that millions of these things were made over the centuries, and that many were probably brought to the West by expats, explorers, missionaries or tourists traveling in Asia in the 1800s and 1900s. They range in price on eBay from $150.00 to over $300-$500, depending on age, condition, and level of decoration and detail. I don’t know exactly who collects these things, but there does seem to be an interest in them.

Repairing the Trousse

The trousse was pretty cheap when I bought it – this was largely due to the fact that it wasn’t complete at the time. The trousse didn’t come with its original chopsticks, which were probably bone, so I replaced them with my silver chopsticks which I bought about two years ago. On top of that, some of the tortoiseshell was also coming loose. I removed the tortoiseshell and glued it back on. Once it was secured, then I started working on another part of the trousse that needed my attention: the pommel at the top of the knife.

The point of the pommel is to protect the top of the knife handle. In this case, the pommel was missing, but I could tell from the hilt or the collar at the end of the blade next to the handle, that it would originally have been made of bone. I was able to secure some small pieces of bone, and, using a file, some sandpaper, glue and oil, I was able to shape the bone, glue it onto the top of the knife, file and sand it flat, polish it smooth, and shape it to the shape of the top of the handle.

Although it’s a tiny detail, just fixing this one element took several hours of filing, shaping, measuring, sawing, gluing, filing, and more filing, and finally, polishing, to get the new pommel not only to stay on top of the knife, but also fit in with the thickness and shape of the rest of the knife and its bone hilt, as well. It’s not 100% perfect, but at least the knife now looks much more complete than it previously had done.

 

A Solid Silver Plate

You find the strangest things in box-lots at auction. This came with a couple of old candlesticks which were in pretty lousy condition. While they were really only good for the scrapping pot, the silver plate, was in pretty damn good nick. The two or three age-marks on the surface of the metal were easily removed with a bit of polishing and sprucing up, and the heavy tarnish around the borders were eventually removed with enough scrubbing and elbow grease.

There’s really not much to be said about this plate. All-told, it measures only eight inches from edge to edge, and is perhaps an inch deep, if that. It’s circular, with a nice, wavy, raised border. It’s not as elaborate as some silver plates I’ve seen online, but at the same time, it’s not as simple as some others I’ve seen. It’s somewhere in the middle. It’s decorated enough not to look really plain, but not so decorated as to look really gaudy and flashy.

Apart from the purity mark on the back (for 90% silver) and the indications that it was made in South America, there’s nothing on it to denote its age, who it was made by, or for what purpose. I’m not even sure if this is part of a set, or not. I suspect not, but I have no way of really knowing. Like the pedestal bowl in my previous posting (see further down), I expect that this was a single piece, meant for decoration or service, rather than as part of a set, since breaking up a set of solid silver plates seems almost heretical!

Whatever the plate’s story is, and despite its simplicity of style, I think it’s beautiful. While it’s not really big enough to be a dinner-plate, it’s definitely much bigger than other silver plates that I’ve seen in person in many, many years.

 

Writing on Writing: Sounding out the Silent Craft

The pen is mightier than the sword!

Possibly one of the most famous phrases in history, referring to the fact that the written word has more influence over the vast majority of people, than does the sharpened edge of a length of folded steel!

…but…does it?

While this line has been repeated ad nausea, it still bears consideration. The written word is only powerful or influential if it captures the reader’s attention. If what is written means something to the reader, if it connects to the reader in some manner.

Not all writing can do this, and yet, all writing is certainly trying to do so. After all, despite what some of us might think – we never write anything for ourselves. Everything that has been written throughout history, has always been written for the consumption – willing or unwilling – of others.

That being the case – what makes good writing? What makes attractive, interesting, fun, fascinating, scary, comedic or educational writing? What makes good writing, good?

When I was in university, I learned two pieces of what I believed to be vital advice to becoming a good writer, and neither of them was more than a line or two in length. They were:

“There’s no such thing as a boring subject. Only boring writers”. 

“There’s no such thing as an original story”. 

And you know what? They’re both true. Any subject can be made interesting…or boring. All that is needed to tip the balance is the skill…or ineptitude…of the writer telling the story. Likewise, there is no such thing as an original story.

What’s that? You found an original story by some new author at your local bookshop?

No you didn’t. And neither did they write one. An original story does not exist. If you don’t believe me, keep reading and I’ll explain why, later.

Before we go any further down this rabbit-hole of pure imagination, I should probably preface everything that comes hereafter by saying that this is all based on my own experiences, gained from twenty-odd years of being incredibly bored, daydreaming, making crap up, twisting it around in my head, writing about it, and then thinking that other people might be bored enough, like I was, to actually read it.

So, where do we begin?

Why Does This Thing Exist?

It exists because I’m a big fan of roleplaying. For those of you who have never heard of roleplaying, it’s got nothing to do with you and your wife or husband pretending to be sexy farmhands and innocent milkmaids. It’s a pastime undertaken by writers (like me), who enjoy creating their own fictional characters and playing them against other fictional characters in scenarios which both players create. It’s an enjoyable, relaxing pastime which is part fantasy escapism, and part writing exercise, to keep my skills sharp. And it’s a lot of fun when everything goes right.

It’s when it goes wrong, that you realise what a finely balanced craft really good creative writing truly is, and how and why not everybody can do it. So, how do you do it? What makes it good? How do you know if it’s any good?

“What makes YOU qualified to write about good writing?”

I dunno. What makes anybody? There are no ‘official’ certifications about what is, or who can be, or isn’t, a good writer. There’s no magical fantastical scientifical mathematical formula. But, I have two university degrees in writing, and damn near thirty years’ writing experience under my belt. I think most people would consider that to be ‘qualifications’ enough. In case they aren’t – a good writer is determined by the number of people who enjoy reading what they’ve written. And I feel confident enough in saying that I’ve garnered enough of a satisfied audience – here, and elsewhere – to be considered a half-decent writer on my own merit.

Anyway. Enough horn-blowing. Let’s get down to writing about writing…

Good Fiction Writing: You Got It!…Right?

When it comes to writing, especially writing any kind of fiction, or creative work, what makes ‘good writing’ can be highly subjective. There’s no scientific way to say what makes ‘good writing’ or ‘bad writing’. But there are certain rules and guidelines that you can follow and remember, to improve your chances of producing good writing. But that said, all the rules and guidelines in the world will not help you, if you are not at least a moderately decent communicator. To be a good writer, you should first be a good communicator – because writing of any kind – is communication. And if you don’t have that skill, then you might struggle here.

Some people are amazing, funny, effective or informative communicators. Others…are not. If your ability to write funny, informative, enjoyable or engaging creative works is suffering, then perhaps this post will help you. Read on!

What Makes Good Writing?

A combination of factors. I will be covering each of these in turn throughout this posting. Some are more important than others, but a comprehension, if not a mastery, of all them, is best, if you intend to become a really good creative writer. This relates to everything from ‘voice’, ‘character development’, ‘descriptions’, ‘word-use’, and many other factors. If you really want to stand out as an accomplished or serious writer of fiction, or creative nonfiction of any kind, these are the things that you MUST be familiar with. So, let’s begin.

Show, don’t Tell

This is the most common thing that teachers of creative writing will tell you. ‘Show, don’t tell’.

OK.

Show, and don’t tell…what…exactly?

Show, and don’t tell – what is going on!

Nobody wants to be TOLD a story. They want to be SHOWN a story. They want to see, in their imagination, what is going on. Being told stuff isn’t very interesting. You don’t tell somebody a good time, you show them a good time. And you do that by how you write.

To show your story through words, rather than tell it, you need to approach it indirectly, or laterally. Instead of telling someone what happens, you need to describe and illustrate what happens. You do this by use of descriptive words and details. Say your story starts mundanely enough, by having your character going to work. Or school. Boring. Everyone does that.

What are they thinking about while they’re getting ready? What’s the weather like? What’s been going on in their lives up until this point? Details like this make what would otherwise be a mundane and routine task sound interesting. But here, we run into one of the first pitfalls of good writing.

Too Much Detail!

Most people will tell you that loads of detail in creative fiction writing is a good thing. And…I disagree. Certainly, a particular amount of detail, is important. But the trick is knowing how much of that detail to include. Let’s go back to the example mentioned above. We start off with a relatable experience – going to school or work. Everyone’s done it, everyone knows what it’s like. Good. We have started on a level playing field and have connected with our audience. They’re on board and they know what’s going on. To flesh it out and make it more interesting, we add in details.

These details are not there as pointless, decorative fripperies. A good writer should know, and should strive to achieve the goal, that details – all details – serve a purpose. This is where we reach what I like to call ‘necessary details’.

In creative writing, details should accomplish one of two goals. They should either:

1). Improve our understanding, or enjoyment of the piece.

OR

2). They should advance the plot.

If the details you have included accomplish neither of these goals – they’re superfluous, and should be removed AT ONCE.

Why?

People think that to be a good fiction writer, you need loads of fat, juicy, jiggling details.

No you don’t.

You need the RIGHT details. The ‘necessary details’. Adding in more than the necessary details – descriptive passages or phrases – pads out the story. It makes it longer, bulkier, more wordy – and boring. Writing with too many unnecessary details in it becomes a bore to read. You might think it’s great because it’s chock-full of details! But your reader will not thank you. This is because they have to trudge through all these details, trying to decide which ones are relevant to the plot, and which ones are not, losing sight of the story in the process.

A lot of people seem to think that the way to fantastic writing is through detail. Loads of detail! To this end, they will pump their stories full of every single descriptor and adjective or adverb that they can think of! But, there is a tipping-point here.

On one side of that tipping point – the writing is engaging, detailed, entertaining and colourful.

On the other side of that tipping point – the writing is overbearing, boring and confusing. Never make the mistake of pumping your story so full of detail and description that it reaches this point. You and your writing will come across as being insecure, insincere, and virginal – like you’ve just started writing, and haven’t found your feet yet. It screams ‘I don’t know how to write, so I’ll just add in more stuff. More stuff is good, right? So more stuff = better writing!

No. Don’t do that. Your readers will not thank you. If you do, the result is boring, unattractive, mundane writing.

How Much Detail?

Alright. So what is the right amount of detail?

The right amount of detail in your writing is the amount which tells the story and embellishes it, enriches it, without being repetitive or overbearing. Sometimes, excessive or repetitive detail is good. It emphasizes a point or brings attention to it – which you might want, possibly for comedic effect, among other reasons. And that’s fine. But if you do it all the time, it becomes boring, and ends up being a literary boat-anchor, dragging your writing down with it.

To determine whether or not you have too much detail in your writing, take a sample (say, a page), and read through it.

Now, read through it again, and remove everything which isn’t absolutely necessary for the telling of the story, of improvement of its readability.

Now, read it through a third time, and look at all the stuff you removed. All the things crossed out in red.

All that red-struck stuff is all the excess baggage and clutter that you didn’t need in your writing. It should now read much more clearly and concisely, more to-the-point. Your readers can now follow the story and understand what’s going on. Provided you’ve done a good job with the plot and characters, it’s now a much more enjoyable read.

Character Development: Personality, Voice, etc.

As well as taking into considering how, and how much you write, you also need to consider the creation and interaction of your characters. The best characters, whether they’re humans, anthropomorphic characters, talking clocks or elves, are ones that people can relate to, and understand. If you can’t understand a character, can’t relate to it, can’t ‘see things from its point of view’, then you can’t engage with it throughout the story. Instead of seeing things from the point of view of the character, you become a bored member of an audience at the theatre, watching something detached and bland, happening up there on the stage, without engaging in what’s really going on.

So what do you need to do with your characters?

Building Believable Characters

In any good work of fiction, one part of the winning formula is its characters. The players who make the plot possible!

The most important aspect of any character is – is he, she, or it, believable?

By that, I mean, could we imagine that such a being might exist in real life? Are his or her actions and reactions what we might expect us, or a person like what’s being portrayed, to be like in real life? If various aspects of a character’s mannerisms, mentality, personality or other aspects (such as physical appearance, etc) aren’t believable, then the chances that the readers will be interested in him or her, connect with, or sympathise with the character in question, are unlikely. And if they’re not likely, then your story is likely to suffer, as a result of this.

Purpose and Personality

The important thing with any character-building is that each character needs to stand out as an individual. This isn’t strictly necessary with background characters, but with secondary and primary characters, it is vital. You must be able to differentiate every character. Each one must have their own way of talking, acting, reacting, interacting and engaging. They must have their own ways of doing things, or not doing things, their own morals, motivations, habits, and other things which make them human! If they’re not human, or human-relatable, then your readers aren’t likely to enjoy them.

Now, you might well ask – How important is this stuff, really? Who cares? Why does it matter? Do we HAVE to do it?

Well…Yeah. If you want your writing to work. Every character must have traits, issues, attributes, qualities, foibles and voices, which make them stand out as individuals. I’ve known writers who could have a whole cast of characters – anywhere from three to six to a dozen or more – and all their characters – regardless of age, gender, nationality, or any other form of individual marker – all sound alike. They all speak alike. They all talk alike. They all act alike.

Starting to see the problem here? If you can’t identify, or give individualism, to each of your characters – your writing suffers. And what’s even worse – your reader suffers, because they can’t tell apart your characters, their voices, and what the hell is going on! Oh my god…they’re gonna put down your book and find something else more interesting to read. Possibly Dr. Johnson’s Dictionary.

Every character should have a purpose and a personality. They should have a background and traits that make them stand out as an individual. They should act, and react in ways which are specific or unique to them. This is what makes them believable and relatable to your readers.

Victorian author-extraordinaire, Charles Dickens, at his famous writing desk. The same desk is on permanent display in the Charles Dickens Museum in London.

The Voice of the People!

Another aspect of character-building in good fiction-writing, is the creation of what I like to call a character’s ‘voice’. That is, his or her way of speaking. This means their accent, their diction, their delivery, the tone and pitch of their voice, the slang or inflections, words and phrases that they use, and so-on. This should be as individual to each character as their fingerprints, DNA, and colour of their eyes. Having two characters or more, which sound exactly the same, is very boring, and confusing.

How your character speaks lends interest, individuality and persona to it, and people will enjoy reading about his or her exploits. It will also make it easier to identify the character and build up a fuller picture of who the character is in the reader’s mind, as well as what they’re like.

How your character expresses things like joy, anger, romance, happiness, and sadness, the turns-of-phrase they use, how much they swear, how they speak to different kinds of people – these are all aspects of their ‘voice’. If you don’t have this, your character sounds flat, stale, unrealistic, and boring.

A 4-year-old toddler should not speak or sound the same way that a 45-year-old private detective does, and neither should a bitter, 90-year-old war-veteran sound like a fresh-faced, 21-year-old gaming-nerd. If your readers cannot tell the difference between these characters simply by how they speak – then you have failed to give each one of them a distinctive ‘voice’.

Flawed Fantasies

Every good character should have a few flaws, character deficiencies, or bad habits. Not many, just a few. They might be forgetful, easily angered, claustrophobic, mentally or physically scarred, have a broken relationship in their past, or even their present. Flaws and imperfections make your characters sound realistic.

Now, I do understand that some people – myself included – have this thing where they want to try and create the PERFECT character – whatever that may be, varies from person to person – and sometimes that’s fun to do, and fun to write about. But it’s not always fun to read. A character which is TOO perfect can become boring.

One way around this is to make what appears to be an impressive asset, actually a hindrance or personal issue to your character. A war veteran with loads of combat-experience might struggle from shell-shock. A person who’s really tall, muscular and good-looking might have to deal with issues like how the world just isn’t sized for someone of his height.

On the other hand, unexpected or contrasting flaws or failings can make a character more interesting or human. An intelligent, bookish and adventurous character, such as perhaps Prof. Robert Langdon of the ‘Da Vinci Code‘ fame, suffers from claustrophobia, while Indiana Jones is afraid of snakes, and so-forth. A ‘Mary Poppins’ character, which is practically perfect in every way is unrealistic, and uninteresting.

Producing Plot and Purpose

Once you’ve understood the rudiments of good writing, and the surprising complexity that can go into producing a good character, you now need to decide what type of story you’re going to write, and how that’s going to happen. Here, there’s good news, and there’s bad news.

The good news is that there’s loads of different plots and ideas and scenes and scenarios to pick from! Everyone – give me your best Homer-Simpsonesque ‘Whoo-hoo!’ fist-pump right now!

Great, huh?

Eah…hm…nah.

Here’s the bad news: Every single one of those ideas – yes, even that one you had as a child about a kingdom of bunnies made of candy-floss who harvest chocolate baubles that grow off trees made of cinnamon – has been done before.

There’s No Such Thing as an Original Story

Remember how I said – there’s no such thing as an original story?

Well…guess what? It’s true.

Now I’m sure there are people who will read this, who might dispute this assertion, but it is, in essence – true. There are only so many story-ideas and plot points and twists which can exist in the world, and after thousands of years of making stuff up – mankind has pretty much exhausted all of them.

Well crap!“, you think. “I might as well give up being a writer now, then!

Why? Because you can’t think of an original idea? Big deal. Why should that stop you? Nobody’s thought of an original idea for centuries. Even Harry Potter, where the protagonist discovers a secret world which he’s never realised ever existed, isn’t a new idea – Alice in Wonderland, anybody? There is a reason why writers are always suing other writers for stealing their ideas – it’s because they probably did! After all, there’s only so many ideas to go around, right?

The skill of a good writer is NOT to try and create an original story. That’s already been done. Don’t bother wasting your time trying to do the impossible.

The skill of a good writer – a REALLY good writer – is to take what has already been done – and CONVINCE PEOPLE that what they’re reading – that thing you’ve written – is actually something completely new and original!…even if it isn’t. Not only is it much more impressive, but it also keeps other writers from suspecting that you’ve just pinched their ideas and are claiming them as your own. And not getting sued for plagiarism is always a bonus.

And that, my friends – is a MUCH harder job. If you want to test yourself as a writer of skill and creativity – try doing that. Not many people can. And that is why really, really GOOD writers, are few and far between.

Ask most people to tell you the same story ten different times, and make it sound like a different story every single time, indistinguishable from the last one – and most people would struggle. And yet, that is what a good writer must be able to do. This is why to be a really skilled, effective and successful writer, is not something that just any Joe Schmoe from Cocomo, can do, right off the street. I doubt even I could do that, and I’ve been writing for over twenty years.

Building your Story from the ground up!

Because this task of dressing mutton as lamb, of making something old or bland look new and fresh again, is so difficult, great care and planning must be undertaken in any serious literary endeavour which you undertake. You must consider absolutely everything about your characters, your plot, what drives it forward, what holds it back, what makes it what it is, and what doesn’t. You should therefore plan and write down as many of these details as possible.

Decide things like how the story starts, why it starts where it does, and what happens to your protagonists to drive them forward, make them stagnate, retreat, or reach some sort of resolution. It’s best to write these things down in a notebook, where you can scribble, cross out, re-mark and change things as you go along. I still have notebooks which are crammed with hundreds of pages of notes, ideas, characters, and even entire chapters, all written by hand. At last count, I had about half a dozen of them.

As you plan, don’t be afraid to chop and change things. In fact, the more you do that, chances are, the better things will be. As with the act of writing, itself, the act of building up the plot and the details that hang off it or propel it forward works best when it’s uncluttered. Less is more. When you can’t see the forest for the trees, then you’ve got too many things going on, which will result in your reader getting confused, bored, or both. And if they do become confused, or bored, they won’t bother reading what you’ve spent weeks or months or even years, trying to produce. As the Comte de Exupery once said:

“Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away”. 

And this applies just as much to writing, as it does to anything else.

Addressing your Audience

I have said that the way to good writing, is to have clear writing. Writing which is uncluttered by too many plot-points, twists, descriptors or details. Clear, concise, inventive and entertaining writing is the best kind – where people can be both engaged and entertained, or engaged and educated. But they can only do this – if you know what you’re doing!

I have met people who take the sparsity of detail in their writing to absolute extremes, and this makes the writing difficult to follow. As I said earlier – the right amount of detail is the amount at which the story is easy to read, enjoyable, but not overbearing.

If you want to succeed as a writer – be it of fiction, or non-fiction – then it is vital to always keep in mind who you are writing things for – your audience.

I’m sorry to say this, but many people write without considering who their audience is; and their writing suffers greatly, as a result.

Unless it’s a diary, you never write something for your own consumption. Everything that anybody has ever written, has always been for the consumption or use by another party, whether that’s a kids’ story, a teen-fiction novel, a crime drama, the script of a blockbuster movie, a computer-game strategy guide, a repair manual, or anything else that’s meant to entertain, or inform. So when writing anything of substance, be it informative or entertaining, remember the following:

Never assume that your reader knows what you’re talking about. Never assume that they can guess something. Never assume that they will draw the correct conclusion from hints and tidbits of information. Never assume that they understand what particular types of jargon mean, unless you’re writing to an audience which uses said jargon regularly, and you wish to connect to them and ‘write on their level’.

These are the things you need to consider when you write. At all times, you must consider who your audience is, what they might, or might not know, and how to tailor your speech in what you write, accordingly. If you do not, then you run the real risk of boring, insulting or otherwise alienating your readers.

How to be a Good Writer: Ten Commandmants

Here’s a few final tips on those aspiring to be really good writers. Things to always remember, if you intend to be as fantastic as you possibly can. These should be used as guidelines, to ensure that you’re always at the top of your game, and constantly finding things to raise that game, at all times.

1). Thou Shalt Remember Thine Audience, and keep them holy. Those who do not risk alienation and loneliness.

2). Thou Shalt be Humble in the eyes of thine Readers. No writer ever got anywhere by thinking that they were incredible and without the need of self-improvement. If you think you’re fantastic, you’re going to get a NASTY shock when people think otherwise. Especially if your delusions of grandeur result in your writing falling in quality.

3). Thou Shalt Strive towards Perfection. Just like the Soviets and True Communism, a writer should always strive to attain perfection in writing, even if perfection, like true communism, is actually unattainable. The closer you get to that ever-escaping pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel, the better you’ll be as a writer. The key is to never stop chasing it.

4). Thou Shalt Be Pedantic and Methodical. Always write things down. Always take notes. Always keep writing-aids (be it a dictionary, reference books, plot-notes, notepad, etc) near-to-hand. Never settle for second-best in your writing.

5). Thou Shalt Always Write. The true writer, the writer who wishes to constantly improve, and maintain their craft, is the one who never, ever stops writing. This is one reason why I took up roleplaying as a hobby. It forces me to think fast, and write all the time, and that is what improves you. Sometimes pressure is good. Also, nobody will believe that you’re a serious writer if you’re not always at least thinking about something to write about!

6). Thou Shalt Keep Thine References Close. If you want to be taken seriously as a writer, you need to have a good command of the language in which you write. Know the difference between words, know proper grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc. Don’t make the mistake of, for example, confusing a depository of information with a suppository of information. A dictionary is your friend. If you don’t like physical dictionaries, then try something like www.dictionary.com

7). Thou Shalt Read Constantly! You won’t become a good writer if you do not read, and read voraciously, preferably about subjects which you are at least a little bit interested in. History, geography, science, literature, technology…the list goes on. But if you expect to be a good writer, you must first study the craft itself and observe the styles, techniques, word-choices and sentence structures of other writers. These will show you what is possible, and how it may be achieved.

8). Thou Shalt Ask for Feedback. You’ll never know if you’re doing any good as a writer, of anything, if people don’t actually read what you’ve written. Only impartial, unbiased opinions are worth anything when it comes to finding out how creative, imaginative, interesting, or easily understood, your writing is.

9). Thou Shalt Be Thine own Critic. It’s often said that the creator of a work is usually its most scathing critic. And this is good. A writer should always view his or her own work with the most critical and dispassionate eyes possible. Detach yourself from what you’ve written, and look at it objectively (or as objectively as you can). This will enable you to ruthlessly make the changes which are necessary to improve your work, regardless of how much effort you might’ve put into it.

10). Thou Shalt Use Thy Details Wisely. This bears repeating, since it’s a huge problem with aspiring writers. Be careful with how much, how often, and what kinds of details, descriptions and adjectives you use, to add spice, colour, flavour and texture to your writing. Too much, and it becomes overbearing. Too little, and it becomes incomprehensible. The best way to do this, I find, is to go back and remove as much as you can, without sacrificing readability, and not to add so much, that the essence of what you’re trying to say, gets lost in all the fancy words you’ve gone and scattered everywhere.

I call bulky, over-descriptive, over-compensatory writing ‘sawdust‘. In the old days, flour was expensive. To stretch out flour, and to make it last in hard times, bakers used to add ground-up sawdust into the dough to thicken it up, to make the resultant loaves of bread seem bigger and more substantial than they really were.

It didn’t DO anything to the bread. It didn’t make it taste better, or bake faster, or last longer…all it did was fatten it up and make it look more impressive. But in terms of actual benefit – there was none to be had. The bread was not more nutritious, or easier to eat, or anything. It was purely a superficial result.

This is the exact same result that comes from using an overabundance of detail and description. Avoid it like the plague!

Anyway, that ends this rather lengthy posting about the craft of writing. I hope that it has in some way helped any aspiring writers of creative fiction or creative non-fiction out there, who have been hopelessly groping around in the darkness, trying to find writing advice that they can actually understand, follow, and apply to their own work.

 

 

Clang-Clang-Clang Went the Trolley: A Rattling Good Time at the Melbourne Tram Museum!

If you know anything about Australia beyond the fact that we have weird animals, dangerous snakes, venomous spiders and an abundance of tanned, bleached surfer-dudes populating the ‘top-end’, then you might also be aware of the fact that the city of Melbourne has the largest tram network in the world (or at least the southern hemisphere!).

Melbourne’s tram network is world-famous. Anyone who’s ever been to Melbourne, heard about Melbourne, or seen photographs of Melbourne on the internet, will know that Melbourne has trams.

A Brief History of Melbourne’s Tram Network

Following hot on the heels of San Francisco, Melbourne installed its first tram-route, operating a grip-cable streetcar, in 1885. Built on the floodplain of a river, Melbourne is a relatively flat city, but there are places where hills are found in abundance, and to traverse them, something other than your stoutest pair of wingtips is probably ideal.

The Hawthorn Tram Depot, the location of the Melbourne Tram Museum. The streetcar barn (building with big grey doors) is where the main exhibits are housed!

Cable-cars ran in Melbourne from 1885 until 1940, and featured a dummy car trailing behind a grip-car, with the grip-car being open to the elements, and the dummy-car being closed off with windows and doors.

Tales from the Grip

Cable-cars were operated by a two-man team — emphasis on MAN — very few women ever did this job — and you’ll find out why in a minute!…these two men were the gripman, and the conductor.

The conductor helped people on and off the tram, operated the brakes, collected fares, issued tickets, answered questions from commuters, and oversaw the general welfare of the passengers. To be a conductor required a fair bit of acrobatic expertise – swinging between the benches and in and out of the rails, jumping up and down between the carriages and helping people up and down was an exhausting job!

His counterpart was the gripman. The gripman got his name because he operated the two ‘grip-levers’ at the front of the cable-car. One lever was the brake – which does what a brake has always done – and the other lever was the grip-lever.

An old Melbourne cable-car from the 1880s, rattling past Spring Street in the CBD. The building on the right is Parliament House. The building on the left is the venerable Hotel Windsor, commonly called the Duchess of Spring Street!

The grip-lever was what grasped the moving steel cable underneath the streetcar, which ran along in a groove between the two running-tracks. Once the claw at the end of the lever had grasped the cable, it would pull the car and it’s trailer along.

If this doesn’t sound hard – remember that you’d be doing this in freezing cold, pouring rain, boiling heat and raging storms. Remember that you’d be doing this going uphill, and downhill, going across intersections and around corners. Remember that these streetcars were entirely mechanical…and weigh about five tons each!

The oldest tram in the Melbourne Tram Museum. The two levers in the middle of the tram (between the benches) are the ‘grips’ which operate the cable-clamp, and the brake, giving the ‘gripman’ his name.

There were no engines or motors to operate them – only human muscle. They were pushed out of the stables by muscle, they were spun around on turntables by muscle, and they were started, stopped and operated by muscle. The upper-body strength to operate these things for HOURS EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK was why gripmen remained MEN – the sheer physical exertion meant that no woman wearing a full-length Victorian dress and corset could ever operate something like this.

The Hotel Windsor, or the ‘Duchess of Spring Street’, as she appears today – Melbourne’s last great Victorian-era luxury hotel. The cable-car in the previous photograph would’ve been rattling along across the street, from left to right in this photograph, heading into the Melbourne Central Business District (the CBD to locals!).

The last cable tram in Melbourne ran in October, 1940 whereafter the system was ripped up and replaced entirely by electric trams.

The other end of the cable-tram. When the sliding door is shut, it has a warning on it for passengers to hold on tight. For those who couldn’t read, conductors (‘connies’) would shout the words ‘Mind the curve!’ to alert passengers to expect a sudden change in direction which would make the entire vehicle shake as it crossed the tracks.

Power from Above!

By the late 1800s and early 1900s, Melbourne had both cable-driven and electrical trams, as well as older horse-drawn tram technology, and for quite a while, all three ran together. By the 1920s, most of the city’s main tram-routes had been laid out, extending to St Kilda, Hawthorn, Camberwell, across the Central Business District, north to suburbs like Macaulay, North Melbourne, Kew, and even Far Kew….which, for the sake of taste and decency, was later changed to the more polite-sounding “Kew East” (say it five times fast, and you’ll soon figure out why…).

Melbourne’s W-class electric trams operated continuously from the 1920s onwards. A few are still in regular service, but most of them are either in storage, or serve as tourist attractions, like the Tramcar Restaurant, or the classic City Circle tourist tram which rattles around the CBD offering people a free lift.

Trams continue to be a major part of the Melbourne public transport network, and in the 50s and 60s, when a lot of cities around the world, from London to New York, Los Angeles to Shanghai, Singapore, Ballarat and countless others, were ripping up their streetcar networks, the Melbourne network remained, saved by public sentiment and probably, the cost of replacing it with something else. The result is that in the 21st century, the Melbourne tram network is the largest and most complete in the Southern hemisphere.

The Melbourne Tram Museum

Housed in the old Hawthorn Tram Depot, the tram museum is open two Saturdays a month. I’d been meaning to go for years and years and years, but I never got around to it. You know how it is – when you live there, you can see it anytime you want…which means you never bother to actually go!

Anyway, I found out from a friend’s Facebook post that the museum was having another open-day, so I hurried on over as fast as Routes 48 and 75 could take me there, and shuffled on in.

The museum featured twenty trams, ranging from 1886 to 1977. The trams were all lined up on their tracks, and open for inspection. You could jump on, jump off, and check out every single part of every single tram, hopping into the driver’s seat, or behind the grip-levers, turning cranks and pulling levers. Like many of the people there, I couldn’t resist ringing the bells on every single tram I came across!…Come on, we’ve all wanted to it! It’s like that kid in The Polar Express:

“I’ve wanted to do that my whole life!”

I went around taking photographs of all the information boards, all the trams and some of the pieces behind glass cases. In all honesty there wasn’t that much to see, and I was done in about 90 minutes, but what there was to look at, was certainly worthwhile. The majority of the trams dated to the 1920s and 30s, but I think most people agreed that the oldest tram was the one which held their interest the longest!

I bought a reprint of a 1908 tram network map while I was at the museum, as well as a book on the history of cable cars. As interesting as the place was, I felt it suffered badly from a lack of volunteers to run the museum – which is why it’s only opened a few times a year. That said, the trams in the museum do get occasional use! The last time one of them was rolled out of the stables was ten years ago, back in 2007…when they required period Melbourne streetcars to roll past Flinders Street Station during filming scenes in the HBO miniseries “The Pacific“!

All in all it was an enjoyable visit and a fun distraction for an hour or two. Anyone visiting Melbourne when the museum is open (2nd and 4th Saturday of every month except December) should certainly check it out. I just feel rather saddened that a museum dedicated to one of the city’s most famous moving landmarks is so inaccessible to the public.

 

The Tale of the S.S. Antinoe – The Most Famous Shipping Disaster of the 1920s!

The Tale of the Antinoe

These days, technologies such as sonar, radar and satellites warn us of dangerous weather and shipping hazards in our paths when we head out beyond sight of land. Helicopters, rigid-shell lifeboats with inbuilt motors, and clear and easy radio communications make rescue at sea easier and safer. But imagine what high seas rescue was like before these machines and technologies were invented. Imagine trying to affect a rescue in a roaring hurricane not with a helicopter, but with a wooden, oared lifeboat. Imagine life-or-death communications where you didn’t have radio or walkie-talkies – just the flashing pulses of a manually-operated Morse-lamp. No GPS. No satellite tracking – just maps, charts, maritime chronometers and a pair of compasses to find your way.

Imagine all these challenges and more, which were faced by the men who carried out one of the most famous ocean rescues of the early 20th century.

The S.S. Antinoe is completely forgotten today. If you stopped most people in the street and asked, they would have absolutely no idea what it is. And yet, this was an event which made international headlines when the news broke. It turned ordinary sailors into celebrities and heroes before they’d even set their feet back on dry land! A tale of endurance, bravery and sheer ballsiness not yet coming to a motion-picture theatre near you! Forget “The Perfect Storm”, the events surrounding the S.S. Antinoe are far more spectacular!

Wednesday, 20th of January, 1926 – The Roosevelt Departs

The year is 1926. American ocean liner, the S.S. President Roosevelt, is steaming out of New York Harbor. In charge of this vessel is Captain George Fried. The Roosevelt’s ultimate destination is the port of Bremerhaven, Germany, but it will make various stop-offs along the south coast of England along the way.

The voyage to Europe will be long. A week at sea at least. The weather was bad before the ship had even left American waters, but it couldn’t stop just because it was wet and cloudy – the Roosevelt had 200 passengers on board who had paid for safe passage, along with several thousand bags of U.S. Mail.

Before the days of satellite weather-tracking, the main way for ships to attain accurate weather forecasts was in the form of the telegraph. Ships out at sea sent Morse Code radio-messages between each other, warning of things as storms, icebergs, and other ships in distress. The President Roosevelt didn’t know it yet, but it was sailing into a storm of unimaginable ferocity.

A postcard of the S.S. President Roosevelt from the 1920s.

The Roosevelt was not just steaming into a storm. It was steaming into one of the fiercest hurricanes ever witnessed in the north Atlantic. Over the coming days, the situation on board ship deteriorated significantly and a number of measures had to be taken to ensure the safety of the passengers and of the ship. Roosevelt passengers were kept below-deck, forbidden from going outside, for their own safety. Lifelines were thrown up outside and inside the ship, to catch people who stumbled or fell when the ship rolled.

When it was safe to cook, stewards would soak table-cloths in water and wring them out before laying the tables. The wet fabric would prevent place-settings and dishes from sliding off the tables in the dining saloon when the ship rolled or plunged through another wave. And things only got worse as the voyage continued. By the third day, Capt. Fried ordered the ship’s engines to be run at reduced speed. It would be pointless to operate them at full-tilt and burn precious coal in a futile attempt to get anywhere in this storm. And so the Roosevelt laboured onwards.

Sunday, 24th of January, 1926 – The Antinoe Calls for Help

Despite the raging storm, Capt. Fried of the Roosevelt was determined that nothing more than the most essential precautions be taken, to prevent causing a panic among the passengers. As a result, regular crew-shifts went on as normal. There were no double watches or any other abnormal crew activity. Everyone was just expected to do their regular duties. If the situation got significantly worse, then extra measures would be taken.

With this mindset, the crew went about their duties. At four o’clock on Sunday morning, wireless-operator Kenneth Upton relieved his colleague and took up his position in the radio-room. He slipped on his headphones, sat down at the desk, and prepared himself for a long, boring shift of a whole lot of nothing. Considering the storm, there was probably nothing going on out there! How wrong he was!

Not two hours later, at 5:40am, a barely discernible message gurgled through the air. Because of the hurricane, radio reception was appallingly bad, and Mr. Upton could barely hear the frantically hammered-out Morse Code.

The cry for help came from the Antinoe, a British freighter-vessel which was fighting for life. It was severely damaged by the storm, unable to move, developing a heavy starboard list and had lost all her lifeboats, which had been ripped off her decks or smashed to pieces by the storm. She had no way of giving her position with great accuracy as the hurricane made it impossible for the crew to take a reading of their position by the sun or the stars.

Realising the gravity of the situation, Upton immediately informed Capt. Fried.

Using the Antinoe’s feeble radio-transmitter as a reference-point, Capt. Fried was able to determine through triangulation (using two known positions to find a third) the Antinoe’s location. Unfortunately, he also determined that it would take six hours just to get there!

The Tale of the Antinoe

The Antinoe was captained by Harry Tose. It had departed its port of embarkation on the 14th of January and had sailed without incident until the 23rd when it ran into the same hurricane battering the S.S. President Roosevelt. Heavy seas had damaged the ship severely. In all the heaving, rocking and rolling, an ice-chest had been knocked loose when the ship rolled from a wave. The heavy ice-chest had fallen and smashed against the ship’s steering-mechanism, rendering the vessel impossible to steer.

Despite throwing the damaged ice-chest and other broken parts overboard and trying to fix the broken steering mechanism, the ship was in sufficient enough danger that Capt. Tose ordered an S.O.S. signal to be sent out. Two ships responded: One was the S.S. President Roosevelt. The other was the famous Cunard ocean-liner, the R.M.S. Aquitania. In the end, it was the Roosevelt which dared to stay alongside the stricken Antinoe and attempt a rescue-mission in the midst of an Atlantic hurricane.

The Arrival of the S.S. President Roosevelt

Around midday, the two vessels found each other. Capt. Tose of the Antinoe wanted his ship taken in-tow and hauled back to safety…wherever that was! Capt. Fried agreed, but had no idea HOW to do it! Three attempts at bringing the Antinoe under tow failed.  The weather was too rough and either the towline never caught on, or it would snap once it had been fastened to the Antinoe.

By that evening, the situation was spinning further and further out of control. The nonstop pounding of the waves had smashed in the Antinoe’s decks. This flooded the engine-room, killing the generators and depriving the ship of all electrical power. Now, she had no lights, no heating and no radio! And to cap it off…it started snowing in the middle of the ocean! Capt. Fried knew that he if abandoned the Antinoe now, her crew were almost certainly going to die.

The raging storm was wreaking havoc on both ships. The wind, the crashing waves, the pitch blackness and the white-out blizzard conditions made keeping visual contact between both ships almost impossible! For a period of several hours on Sunday night, it was impossible for the Roosevelt to see the Antinoe – the blinding snow rendered the Roosevelt’s powerful searchlights impotent, and Capt. Fried feared the very real possibility of a single wave slamming both ships together and sending them to the bottom of the sea!

The Antinoe had no lifeboats of her own, so to try and carry out a rescue-mission, Capt. Fried ordered his officers to use their own lifeboats to row across to the Antinoe and bring back survivors. The Chief Officer, Mr. Miller called for volunteers. Positioning the ship to launch the lifeboat, Miller and eight men got into the boat and it was lowered away into the raging sea. It was a complete disaster! The ship rocked unexpectedly, slamming the lifeboat against the hull! Two men were thrown out and were drowned at once. The other seven were quickly hauled back on-deck. The lifeboat was considered a total loss.

Monday 25th of January, 1926 – Lifeboats Lost to the Sea

By the next day, things were getting desperate. In numerous failed attempts to maintain contact with the Antinoe, the Roosevelt lost another four of her own wooden lifeboats and was running out of patience and time…especially time! Because, gallant as Capt. Fried’s actions and intentions were, he could not stay alongside the struggling Antinoe indefinitely. His supplies of fuel and food were finite. On top of that, he had passengers who he was supposed to take to Europe. He had mail on board which he was supposed to deliver to Germany!

So what? That was the attitude that Fried took. And he told anyone who asked him, just so! He was not about to leave until the job was done. And that was final! And that was what he told his bosses, too! In fact, Fried sent telegrams back to his company offices in New York, informing his superiors of the situation, and stating quite firmly that come Hell or High Water, he would stay alongside the Antinoe until the ship either sank, until an effective rescue had been completed, or until he could no-longer render assistance.

These words of defiance which were flashed across the ocean went on to have an incredible effect which few, least of all, the people at the centre of this drama, could possibly have foreseen. Trapped at sea, nobody on either the S.S. President Roosevelt, or the Antinoe could possibly know that Capt. Fried’s telegrams back to New York were at that very moment making the rescue of the Antinoe an internationally-observed incident!

Tuesday, 26th of January, 1926 – Rescue At Last!

The next day, the weather finally started to let up. The Roosevelt was able to re-establish contact via searchlight with the Antinoe and rescue-attempts began anew. A lifeboat was successfully launched and rowed over to the Antinoe.

Upon sighting the boat, Capt. Tose insisted that all married men, with the exception of himself, should go first. As a result, the first dozen men to abandon the Antinoe were the ones with wives and families waiting at home. Rowing back and forth between both ships for several hours, the crew and captain of the Antinoe were successfully evacuated to the decks of the Roosevelt. The lifeboat, badly worn out by the rough seas, was cast adrift.

One last attempt was made on the 27th to rescue the badly-damaged Antinoe but when once again the towline snapped, all aboard agreed that to keep trying was a waste of time. They left the ship to founder, and then sailed for Plymouth, England.

Back on Dry Land!

The toll had been heavy. The Antinoe was lost. Two crew from the Roosevelt had drowned at sea and six of her lifeboats had been destroyed by the hurricane during a rescue that had lasted three and a half days! But all twenty-five members of the crew on board the Antinoe had been saved!

When the Roosevelt and her crew arrived in Plymouth, England at the end of the month, they were greeted like heroes! Wild applause followed them, and reporters jostled for interviews! Newsreel cameras rolled, flash-bulbs popped! Mrs. Tose ran up on board the Roosevelt to be with her husband. Later, she publicly thanked Captain George Fried in front of the newsreel cameras, for delivering her husband, Captain Harry Tose, and his crew, safely from the jaws of certain death.

News of the dramatic rescue flashed around the world as fast as telegraph could take it. Articles appeared in the Straits Times in Singapore, the Buffalo Evening News in the United States, the Argus in Melbourne, and The Queenslander in Brisbane. The arrival of the triumphant President Roosevelt and its exhausted passengers and crew was filmed for posterity by newsreel cameras when it docked in England.

The saga of the Antinoe, and the ship which rescued its crew became legend! When Captain Fried and his men returned to America, they were treated once again to a heroes’ welcome, and given a ticker-tape parade through the center of New York City! The Antinoe was probably one of the most famous sea-rescues in history since the Titanic, and would not be eclipsed in peacetime until the sinking of the Andrea Doria in the 1950s.

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This article was originally published in The Australia Times – HISTORY magazine in March, 2015. Permission for republishing on throughouthistory.com was granted by the original author and copyright holder…me!