by David Rees
Insert the pencil into the second hole in the sharpener, being careful not to chip or damage the intact graphite core. Remember that during this second stage, the sharpener blade will contact graphite exclusively—and therefore requires slightly less torsional force applied to the shaft than necessary when one is shaping wood and graphite simultaneously. (Best to err on the side of not enough force, increasing the “heaviness of hand” as needed.)
This photograph is instructive for two reasons:
1. The short blade of the finishing hole makes it clear that it could not attack a pencil that has not already had its cone shaped, because, at 7/16“ (rather than the ⅞” length of a full-sized blade), it is not long enough to engage a “raw” pencil shaft. This is obviously a finishing blade, worthless against an unsharpened pencil—a “second hole” if ever there was one.
2. Even though single-blade pocket sharpeners emit a mixture of graphite and cedar when shaping a point, the amount of cedar usually far exceeds the amount of graphite, the latter of which escapes almost unnoticed. In contrast, this “finishing blade” is shaping graphite exclusively, and those users expecting to see more cedar ribbons as per the “starter blade” will be momentarily confused until remembering that, in fact, all the ribbons of this process have long since unfurled. Such is life: No parade lasts forever. Now we see only graphite exiting the egress slit. However, the byproduct’s lack of glamour is more than redeemed by its crucial role in the grander scheme.
(Pursuant to this, users who are new to the multi-hole sharpener and discontented by the site of pure graphite tumbling out of the device unaccompanied by cedar are encouraged to wear a dust mask, if it makes them less anxious.)
Continue shaping the graphite until the pencil turns freely inside the finishing hole. This is your signal to remove the pencil and examine its condition.
How can we be sure the point pictured here was produced by multi-hole, multi-stage pocket sharpener? The experienced user will note multiple indications.
First, the collar exhibits a ring of indentation where it met the innermost limiting diameter of the second hole.
Second, a close look at the exposed graphite reveals a hint of the unsharpened, cylindrical graphite core at the lower limit of the finishing blade’s reach.
Let us also take a moment to commend this point’s beautiful collar bottom, one of the finest in this book. The scalloped edges are even at their lowest and highest ends, and run perpendicular to the shaft.4 Unlike the collar’s body, they suggest no hint of the multiple stages involved in this point’s creation.5
The point itself required no finishing outside the device, as the second stage of sharpening attacked the graphite with single-minded focus and left a tip exhibiting almost no truncation.
Although the multi-hole sharpener requires slightly more work than the single-blade pocket sharpener, I trust some users will find the additional labor rewarding. It produces a collar with numerous intriguing layers that brings to mind a tiered wedding cake, and, as such, makes the perfect nuptial gift.
While a point of this length and sharpness is easily produced by certain hand-crank sharpeners, the diminutive size of the device used here means it is much more easily carried in one’s pocket—or, indeed, smuggled unnoticed into forbidding realms. This point, and the humble tool which conjured it, is ideal for those civil servants or flange-turners seeking advanced pencil-pointing in a regulatory environment that disallows the importation of hand-crank mechanisms, or denies a steady surface on which to clamp them.6
1 The Alvin, as its full name implies, offers a third hole which is used in isolation, as a single-blade pocket sharpener. This hole will not be used in this chapter.
2 Here I am thinking of list-makers and/or doodlers suffering from myopia who will appreciate the thick lines and easy legibility of a wide pencil point. I also include sketchers of bears in this group; bear-portraits demand a heavy line so as to capture the burly ferocity of their subjects.
3 A quarter-inch of exposed graphite should suffice.
4 If a scalloped collar bottom is essential to your practice, be wary of some multi-hole sharpeners whose second hole may abrade and flatten the scallops.
5 And why would they, given that they were formed during the first stage exclusively?
6 As the reader has no doubt surmised by close review of the attendant technologies, pocket sharpeners can shape shorter pencil stubs than hand-crank sharpeners, further recommending their use by government clerks.
CHAPTER 9:
DECAPITATING A PENCIL POINT: RADICAL TREATMENT IN THE SERVICE OF A GREATER GOOD
IMPORTANT: If the pencil to be decapitated is not your own, make sure to obtain the owner’s verbal or written consent before proceeding. Although pencil sharpening offers the full spectrum of human emotion, betrayal, despair and the dark thrill of litigation are best left in the shadows of the unknown.
There is a unique pleasure to be had in renewing the dulled point of a pencil. The obvious analogy is that of polishing a gem so it may more freely shine and exhibit the perfection of its form.1
Sadly, as any gemologist knows, there are some stones that languish beyond repair. The same is true of some pencil points. More than once I’ve had a client present a pencil whose point is so fatally compromised that it cannot be salvaged. In these cases, best practice recommends removing the point from the pencil by force and starting from scratch.
In one of pencil-sharpening’s many sobering ironies, we find that eliminating a pencil point requires the same skills as creating one: steady hands; attention to symmetry, smoothness, and other aesthetic ideals; and patience.
We do well to remember that this radical procedure, though it may appear antithetical to sharpening a pencil, is no less a part of our practice than removing an abscessed tooth is to the practice of dentistry. Let us pledge to consider the compromised point with the same respect and dignity we afford the perfected one.
Let us further pledge to destroy it utterly.
Press down on the pencil with your non-dominant hand. The pencil must not wobble under the blade, as this will increase the likelihood of an uneven cut—which would only prolong the suffering.2
After confirming the blade is positioned at a right angle to the shaft, cut into the cedar with consistent pressure. You may find yourself applying a slight sawing motion—this is acceptable, provided the incision thereby produced is straight.
When you feel the blade contact the graphite core, stop cutting and turn the pencil. (If the pencil is hexagonal, rotate it so the neighboring side is now flush with the tabletop; if the pencil is cylindrical, rotate it 60 degrees.) Cut into the pencil again, making sure the new incision is perpendicular to the shaft and aligned with the previous cut.
Continue cutting and rotating until you’ve produced a single, unbroken incision around the shaft.
Now the only thing keeping your pencil in one piece is its graphite core. It is time to sever this bond. With a final, forceful application of the blade, cut through the graphite. The point should fall clean away from the shaft.
The deed is done.
Cutting into the shaft of a pencil and removing its point can be an emotionally wrenching experience. After all, as pencil sharpeners we are taught to perfect and protect the point at all costs, and this amputation may feel perverse and unjust.
If the process leaves you feeling bereft or ashamed (see photo, below), take a moment to wipe your brow and regain your composure while recalling this verse from Elinor Wylie’s “Address to My Soul”:
The pure integral form,
Austere and silver-dark,
Is balanced on the storm
In its predestined arc.3
Rest assured your melancholy will be displaced by satisfaction soon enough, as the “predestined arc” of the pencil point is conjured anew by your hand.
To ensure the best possible conditions for making a new point, even out any irregularities in the freshly exposed pencil top by sanding it d
own.
You have nothing to be ashamed of.
What was once a compromised pencil should now look as unblemished and full of promise as any fresh from the box!
You are now free to make a new point.
ANTIQUE PENCIL SHARPENERS: A REVERIE
Like drugs, pencil sharpening techniques have their gateways of delight. Readers who are intimidated by using a pocketknife may ease into the practice via a pivot-blade Little Shaver sharpener. The one pictured here was manufactured in the early 1900s; a modern replica is available from Lee Valley Tools.
The Little Shaver employs a straight blade moving parallel to the pencil shaft like a pocketknife. The pivoting arm limits erratic motion and offers a fine introduction to the art of moderating blade pressure and cutting-depth.
Once you have savored the pleasures of the gateway, you may proceed to the mansions beyond!
1 I must remember to seek a more obscure and shocking comparison when time permits.
2 If the pencil wobbles, remember: This phenomenon is likely caused by an uneven cutting surface or an irregular shaft; it is not the terrified death-shudder of the pencil itself. As much as we invest our cedar friends with fond affection, they are inanimate objects, and, as such, incapable of feeling pain or despair. (All the more reason to envy them!)
3 If there is any doubt this 1928 poem is about the fragility of pencil points (“austere and silver-dark”), and seeks to comfort the agitated pencil sharpener who finds him- or herself “balanced on the storm” of pencil decapitation, we need only remember the second verse and its obvious reference to the durability of plastic display tubes:
Fear not, pathetic flame;
Your sustenance is doubt:
Glassed in translucent dream
They cannot snuff you out.
CHAPTER 10:
USING A DOUBLE-BURR HAND-CRANK SHARPENER
EQUIPMENT CHECKLIST:
• Double-burr hand-crank pencil sharpener
• Pencil
ONCE YOU FEEL COMFORTABLE USING A single-burr hand-crank sharpener, it may be appropriate to advance to the double-burr example of this technology. The operating principle of the double-burr sharpener is simply an escalation of that of the single-burr: Namely, two cylinder blades now rotate around the pencil to shape its point.
Double-burr sharpening mechanism
The pencil sharpener used in this chapter is an extraordinary example of engineering: The El Casco M430-CN. Based in the Basque region of Spain, the El Casco1 company began as a manufacturer of handguns; the economic climate of the Great Depression required a diversification of product, and the family-run business began producing high-end office equipment. (One thinks fondly of Isaiah 2:4.) Per the company web site, “all precision components are individually numbered and assembled by hand.”
While this device is by no means typical of double-burr hand-crank sharpeners—far more common are the wall-mounted sharpeners found in classrooms—I trust your author will be forgiven for celebrating it in this chapter. Rest assured the principles behind its use are fundamentally the same as those for any double-burr hand-crank sharpener.
Should you include an El Casco in your arsenal? It depends on the budget you have allotted for your practice. As to its cost, I will only say the El Casco pictured here is the fourth-most expensive thing I own—and I own a house and a car.
STEP ONE: STABILIZING THE SHARPENER
As discussed in Chapter 7, every hand-crank sharpener—whether single- or double-burr—must be stabilized while in use. The El Casco is no different, but forgoes the traditional table-clamp in favor of a handsome rubber suction base.
To stabilize the sharpener, turn the lever to create a vacuum between the table top and the base of the machine.
Some readers may be unsettled by the sequence of events recorded above, and protest: “Why are we now told to stabilize the sharpener before inserting the pencil? When using the single-burr hand-crank sharpener, we were told to stabilize the sharpener after inserting the pencil!”
This apparent inconsistency is due to the fact that in our single-burr paradigm, we stabilized the device with our hand, rather than with a table clamp—inserting the pencil after stabilizing the sharpener would require the user to do with one hand what is typically done with two (as one hand is needed to extend the spring-loaded intake mechanism).
STEP TWO: “DIAL M FOR MURDER”
The El Casco offers four different settings for graphite exposure and point length; adjusting a dial on the end of the handle moves a spring-loaded point limiter into position.
As my clients are aficionados of extreme pencil-pointing, they usually insist on maximum graphite exposure.
STEP THREE: “WE PROMISE TO VISIT EVERY WEEK, GRANDMOTHER”: INTRODUCING THE PENCIL TO ITS NEW HOME
Like many of our single-burr hand-crank friends, this device has an iris-like aperture for centering the pencil within the sharpening mechanism. Opening its “eye” is a simple matter of moving a lever atop the aperture casing.
“Dream your dreams with open eyes.” —T. E. Lawrence
Insert the pencil through the sharpener’s iris and into its body.2
STEP FOUR: ROTATING THE CRANK HANDLE
Holding the pencil parallel to the surface on which the sharpener rests, begin rotating the crank handle. (The crank-handle process is similar to that of the single-burr hand-crank sharpener; see Chapter 7.)
As this sharpener does not have a spring-loaded intake mechanism, you alone are responsible for moving the pencil into the rotating burrs. Do so now.
STEP FIVE: “ENJOYING THE VIEW”
The El Casco, unlike most hand-crank sharpeners, has an observation window for monitoring the rotational orbit of the burrs. If you are using the device in public, rest assured the window’s glass will soon be fogged by the breath of curious onlookers.
This observation window is not just a gimmick; it also functions as a clever pedagogical device, a “skylight” through which the rays of understanding illuminate an oft-obscure technology. You should exploit “peeping Toms’ ” curiosity by enlightening them as to the mechanics of burr cylinders and their sharpening methods.
Do not allow onlookers to touch the pencil sharpener.
RECOMMENDED QUESTIONS FOR THE CURIOUS ONLOOKER SO AS TO FURTHER ENGAGE AND EDIFY THEM IN THE WAYS OF BURR-CYLINDER SHARPENING TECHNIQUE
“Can you identify which rotating elements are the burr cylinders, and which is the bifurcated shaping sleeve?”
“Why do the burr cylinders slow their rotation when I slow my rotation of the crank-handle?”
“Do you notice the burrs becoming engulfed with residue as the process continues? Is this sufficient indication that the burr cylinders are engaging the pencil shaft? Why or why not?”
“What evidence do we have that I have set the device to produce maximum graphite exposure?”
“Can you seriously fucking believe what you are seeing right now?”
STEP SIX: HALTING THE OPERATION SO AS TO INSPECT THE PENCIL POINT
As the burrs find less resistance and the crank handle’s rotations become smoother, taper your crank-rate before bringing the process to a halt. (If you have set the device for maximum graphite exposure, you should expect to make between 65 and 80 rotations before stopping.)
Open the aperture, remove the pencil, and inspect the point. If it is satisfactory, record the number of handle-rotations in your log. If it is not, carefully reinsert the pencil and continue the sharpening process.3
STEP SEVEN: FORMING A MORE PERFECT TIP
The El Casco’s documentation includes this caveat: “The sharpening mechanism is designed to put a slightly different point on the pencil than you are used to seeing. The tip of the point is slightly flat, which avoids the problem of the point breaking when you first touch the paper.”
If you wish to put a finer tip on the pencil, the device features a serrated lip on its shavings drawer, angled so that graphite swarf falls inside.4
Let us examine a pencil point typical of the El Casco, if not the average double-burr sharpener. The observant reader will note two important differences between this point and the one shaped by the single-burr sharpener in Chapter 7: the scalloped edges where the shaft gives way to the exposed-cedar collar are less pronounced than those produced by the single-burr machine; and the collar is actually concave, with a slight curve to its profile.5
It is also significant that, though both machines were set for maximum graphite exposure and produced collars of equal height, the (double-burr) El Casco’s point boasts at least 30% more graphite than that of the (single-burr) Dahle 166. Finishing the former’s point on the shavings drawer has further refined its elegance.6
This is a stylish pencil point indeed, manifesting a peculiar sophistication that seems so resolutely European we can scarcely believe it was conjured in an American workshop. When presented with such a point, the natural inclination for many pencil enthusiasts will be to treat it as an objet d’art; they would no more think of applying this point to the page than they would think of eating a Fabergé egg or going pee-pee in Marcel Duchamp’s famous art-toilet. This natural inclination (could it be intimidation?) is forgivable—but the client is also encouraged to discover those pleasures available when the pencil is put to use.
And who would use such a pencil point? Given their cost and exclusivity, there is little doubt that most El Cascos will be found idling on the desks of CEOs, as they are actively marketed as executive gifts.7 How often and with what appreciation these titans of industry actually use their El Cascos is unknown; it is not inconceivable that the concept of “placing pearls before swine” may be applicable in some cases.