Technology | Chris Aldrich

Acquisition: 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe Portable Typewriter with Royal Vogue Typeface

On Sunday September 22, 2024, I picked up what appeared to be a boring-looking, run-of-the-mill, ubiquitous, mid-1950s Royal Quiet De Luxe in brown frieze crinkle paint from ShopGoodWill.com. These typewriters pop up everywhere and regularly sell in the $10-25 range. Of the 3163 typewriter models in the Typewriter Database, the Royal QDL is easily the most collected machine in the typosphere by a margin of 1.5:1 to the next closest model (the Smith-Corona Sterling) on the long list.

I present my 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe portable typewriter with a special hidden feature.

The online auction listing for this particular typewriter happened to have a photo of the type basket which included a telltale W, whose sans serif centerlines crisscrossed, which piqued my interest beyond my collector’s desire for a late ’51/’52 QDL variation to pair with my ’48 and ’49 versions and my trusty 1955 model. It was listed for $10.99 when I first saw it, so I waited ever-so-patiently for 4 days with half a dozen alarms set to see if I could snag it for a dramatically below-marketplace valuation. There was one other bid for the minimum, so I put in two last minute bids, one for $20 and another for $1,000 just in case the other bidder had observed what I had noticed and intended to snipe it away. The typewriter collecting gods smiled warmly on me that day.

Eagle eyes, patience, and careful bidding won the day! Knowing the perils of typewriter shipping, especially from Goodwill, I followed up the bidding win and spoke to the GoodWill shipping manager and made an increased donation to their shop to ensure the machine was properly packaged for shipping to prevent possible damage to the uncommon machine. All-in I scored a Royal Vogue for the bargain basement price of under $100. It’s the biggest win I’ve experienced in my short typewriter collecting career. Unless I trip over a mint condition Sholes & Glidden sitting next to a garbage bin, I may be unlikely to surpass this level of luck again.

Given that I’ve seen machines, usually Royal model Ps, with a Vogue typeface go for $950-1,200 in unknown working shape on the open market, I suspect that cleaned up and in restored condition, this could easily sell for $1,500-2,500. Of course, I’ve fallen in love with the typeface, so I’m unlikely to let it go any time soon.

Design

This 1952 machine follows the QDL redesign by Henry Dreyfuss from August 2, 1945 which was put into production in 1948 and changed a bit in 1949. It maintained some of Dreyfuss’ angular shape as well as the tombstone shaped keys, though they changed from the older glass keys of the 40s to the green plastic of the beginning of the plastic onslaught which was to change typewriter manufacture for the next decades.

The front of the this iteration of the machine features a chromed Royal badging flanked on both sides with chrome wing features which have cutouts for the ribbon reversal and ribbon color selector switches. Later versions in subsequent years would lose the wings in lieu of a hood latch button and and a simpler ribbon color switch selector.

The Fall/Winter Sears catalog in 1952 listed this new variation of the Quiet De Luxe for $103.58 in both pica and elite options. The Vogue typeface would have been an available custom order option for a few dollars at the time, but it apparently wasn’t an often ordered one. Of the 522 Royal QDLs in the Typewriter Database at the moment, I’ve only found 5 (including this one) which have a Vogue typeface which makes it less than 1% of the total. Given collectors’ affinity for them, I could easily imagine the actual manufacture rate may have been even smaller.

Though the catalog indicates that the model was 17 pounds for both the machine and the case, my typewriter is 15.7 pounds by itself and 20.1 pounds in the case.

Overall condition

This machine has the appearance of having been at least moderately used. There are a couple bits of paint knocked off some edges (common with portables of this size) and the machine internals were relatively clean.

While the machine was in very solid workable and immediately usable condition when I received it, it definitely deserved some care and attention. In particular, someone had ill-advisedly used a black/correction ribbon on it, so the interior around and below the typing point was covered with white correction tape sludge.

On Saturday, October 19th, I spent several hours in the afternoon and then again in the evening pulling the machine apart, cleaning all the external and internal parts and flushing it out with lacquer thinner. Simple Green did an excellent job on the exterior, and I scrubbed some flecks of Correction Fluid off the body. A quick and very light oiling has the machine purring now. I also did a rubdown on the crinkle paint with some WD-40 to make the exterior truly sparkle. I’m now the proud owner of a scintillating wonder of engineering and typeface design.

Thought it had the appearance of being reasonably maintained, I couldn’t find any clues that it had had a major overhaul or serious cleaning aside from general maintenance. A few of the linkages had some old, brownish/black grease on them which I would take to indicate that it probably hadn’t been serviced since the 1960s. I’ll have to look up historical dates for the black/white correction tape release, but given the dryness of the black portion of the ribbon I’m guessing the ribbon may have been from the late 1970s.

Of particular note, the platen still has a small amount of “give” left to it and isn’t as rock hard as I might have suspected for its age. This means I may wait a bit and replace the platen(s) on other machines before I need to get to this one. The rubber rollers still work well and the rubber feet are in reasonable shape too.

The 1952 Quiet De Luxe came with an original period case as well as a key and the original typewriter manual, a digital copy of which can be found on Richard Polt’s Typewriter Site. (At the rate things are going, I’m finding extant keys are almost as rare with portables as finding a Vogue typeface.)

There is what appears to be a Social Security number scratched into the brown paint on the bottom of the machine. I won’t comment further other than to say its a California area SSN, which is where I purchased it, so there’s a reasonable chance that this was a single owner machine.

Keys

The keyboard has a typical mid-century Royal layout. The keys are in a traditional dark green plastic double shot with white plastic. They’re all in exceptional condition aside from the letter “C” which has a small surface flaw that I ought to be able to buff out pretty easily. There are 42 keys and slugs giving 84 typeable characters for a standard United States English keyset along with six additional keys for backspace, shift, shift lock on the left and tab, margin release, and a shift key on the right. The bottom of the 4 bank keyboard features a more standard inset brown spacebar than its 1948 and 1949 predecessors which had a blocky black design element that made the spacebar more integral to the front frame of those machines.

Other functionality

Manufactured roughly at the peak of typewriter functionality, this medium sized portable machine has almost everything a typist could want in terms of functionality.

There is a rear rabbit-ear style paper support, double sided Royal Magic Margins, touch control (inside the hood), a manually accessible ribbon switch and bichrome/stencil setting switch on the front, and five manually adjustable tabulator sets accessible from the back which are viewable when looking down with the paper table folded back. It has left and right carriage release levers, both temporary and permanent platen adjustment mechanisms, and a single card finger on the right side of the typing line. This QDL has the usual 1, 2, and 3 line spacing mechanism.

Case

The case certainly has seen some heavy signs of travel, but seems to be holding together well despite the wear. The inside is in excellent shape and none of the fabric on the exterior is coming off despite the heavy wear.

Typeface Sample

The typeface on my Royal QDL is the previously mentioned highly prized and much-sought-after Royal Vogue. It types 10 characters per inch and 6 vertical lines per inch. A type sample from my machine with blue and green ribbon appears below. If you need an extended sample, for fun I typed out a large portion of the lyrics to Madonna’s 1990 hit Vogue.

Sound

Here’s a sound sample of inserting a sheet of paper, aligning it, writing a sentence, the bell, and a return with more typing on my 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe:

Photo Gallery of Cleaning

A 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter sitting on a table next to a field of screwdrivers and typewriter tools ready to be cleaned, oiled, and adjusted

Close up of the ribbon vibrator and a portion of the segment of a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter. The platen and the cylinder scale are flecked with lots of dots of white correction material

Rear view of a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter on a table ready to be disassembled with a screwdriver in the foreground.

Close up of the green keys on a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

Close up of the Magic Margin springs on a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

View of the left side of the platen on a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter being removed. We can see how the return level assembly is configured.

Close up of the rubber typeslug rest on a dirty 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter. In the foreground we can see the green keys for 6 and 7.

View onto the left side of a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter carriage without its platen. We can clearly see the yellow letters of the serial number on the left rear of the machine.

Close up down onto the left ribbon cup and touch control of a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

Close up of the right ribbon cup of a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

A naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter sits on a towel surrounded by screwdrivers, wrenches, and the body plates that have been removed.

Close up of the right side of the carriage on a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

Close up view down onto the typebasket and naked keyboard on a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

Close up of the left rear assembly in the back of a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter featuring black wires dovetailing into silver levers with blackened grease on the attachments.

View of the rear of a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

Close up down onto the type basket (typebars and slugs) of a 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter with Vogue typeface

Close up of a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter seen from an oblique view.

Oblique view of a naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter sitting on a wooden library card catalog

Naked frontal view down onto a mostly black and chrome 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter

A naked 1952 Royal Quiet De Luxe typewriter sitting in a metal painters pan ready to be cleaned. It's surrounded by several plastic squeezebottles of solvent and some dirty toothbrushes.

Photo Gallery of Finished Machine

“I’m always trying to get back to the 20s a little bit.”
—John Dickerson, in Field Notes interview (2016)

Perhaps lamenting too much technology, Dickerson says he’s got two screens on the computer in his office as well as an iPad and a phone. But he’s also got “a notebook [that] does only one thing”. He’s also got an old black lacquer Underwood standard typewriter (No. 4, 5, or 6?) on his office desk. Typewriters only do one thing too.

Wonder if he still uses it?

Mr. Typewriter, a Royal 660 Electric Typewriter, as inspiration for Stanley Kubrick’s HAL 9000?

Before we were introduced to the ominous HAL 9000, some knew his older, creepy, sexist cousin Mr. Typewriter, personified by a Royal 660 which appears in the 1966 short film/advertisement Successful Secretary presented by Royal Office Typewriters and directed by Carl A. Carbone.

While there is some heavily gendered blather juxtaposed with some entertaining and atmosphere filling late-1960s jazz, the star of the short film is Mr. Typewriter who incessantly “sells” him self to a contemporaneous mannequin secretary.

This commercial for a 1966 Royal 660 electric typewriter predates Stanley Kubrick’s classic 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey by two years. But based on the scripting, pacing, composition, and even some of the character, it seems like Kubrick was heavily inspired by this short film.

HAL 9000’s tone in 2001 seems to have come straight from Mr. Typewriter and even some of the typewriter/computer personification particularly in the camera angles on the machines seems stark and heavily familiar. One can’t help but notice how Mr. Typewriter looms over the viewer at the 7 minute mark as it delivers it’s “helpful” advice.

“I think you’ll like the half sheet better. It is faster.” —Mr. Typewriter, [timestamp 6:59]

Litton Business Systems, Inc. was a subsidiary of Litton Industries, Inc., an American defense contractor that specialized in shipbuilding, aerospace, electronic components, and information technology. They had bought out Royal Typewriters and had created the electric Royal 660 (released in 1966) specifically to compete with the IBM Selectric (introduced July 1961). Given the time period Litton would have been a potentially more ominous corporate parent than IBM.

Movie buffs have often speculated that the letters of H.A.L.’s name were a one letter increment from I.B.M. Kubrick was known to have corresponded with IBM in relation to the film, but perhaps this was a macguffin to cover up the inspiration from Royal and Litton?

Stanley Kubrick was known to have used an IBM Model C electric typewriter which was manufactured between 1958 and 1967.

Here, Mr. Typewriter in a calm voice makes suggestions to a secretary about his usefulness while HAL does it for a male astronaut (a heroic figure of the space race in that time period). Suddenly the populace feels the more mysterious computer might be a bad actor compared to the typewriter which was slowly being supplanted.

With any luck, Mr. Typewriter wasn’t sexually harassing anyone in the office, but it’s highly unlikely any of the audience at the time was dwelling on such issues until Colin Higgins’ 9 to 5 (Twentieth Century Fox, 1980) which uncoincidentally featured a row of Royal electric typewriters in it’s trailer.

Intriguingly it bears mentioning that the voice over on the 9 to 5 trailer sounds like William Schallert, who portrayed the avuncular Professor Quigley in The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes (Walt Disney Productions, 1969), another film of the period which has something to say about personifying information systems and the coming era of artificial intelligence, though this time as embedded into the brain of a young Kurt Russell.

While the gendered roles portrayed at the time are atrocious (a male machine represented by a male voice is now directing the woman’s work in the office instead of her too-busy, jet-setting male boss), you have to love the techno-utopianism engendered by Successful Secretary:

“We’re living in an electric world, more speed and less effort.”—Mr. Typewriter

Acquisition: 1940 Corona Zephyr Ultra-Portable Typewriter

On Friday, August 16, 2024, I picked up a dreadful looking cur from GoodWill. On Sunday, I spent several hours the afternoon and then again in the evening pulling the machine apart, cleaning all the external and internal parts and flushing it out with lacquer thinner. A quick and very light oiling and a rubdown with WD-40 to make the exterior shine later, and I’m now the proud owner of a wonderful, and sparkling little Corona Zephyr.

Design

The Corona Zephyr manufactured by L. C. Smith & Corona Co. of Syracuse, NY was produced from 1938-1941 before being superseded by the Smith-Corona Skyriter. Both the Zephyr and the Skyriter were meant to compete directly with the Hermes Baby. Meant to be used on the go, these typewriters are compact and light.

My Zephyr with full spools and the case cover on weights 8 pounds 14.7 ounces. Typical standard (desktop) typewriters of the day weighed a ponderous 30+ pounds and even the burgeoning market of portable machines usually clocked in in the low 20s. In it’s case, the Zephyr measures 11″ x 12″ 2 11/16″. These were the OG laptop machines.

Overall condition

This machine has the appearance of having once been at least moderately used. There were some bits of paint knocked off the corners (common with portables of this size) and the machine had more than it’s fair share of dirt and grime inside. Fortunately it was full of eraser shavings like my Smith-Corona Skyriter was.

Based on the way several screws were inserted, I suspect that the machine had been serviced at least once in its life. But it was definitely used well and put up wet. My guess is that in the late 70s or early 80s, as with many typewriters, this was put into storage and forgotten about until it was donated and made its way into my stewardship. Somewhere in that journey it was housed back-down in its case and exposed to some level of moisture causing some moderate rusting on the bottom of the case and to the back of the typewriter. I spent some time removing the worst of of the rust, but wasn’t overly aggressive on it. With the modest treatment, I’ve hopefully arrested most future damage.

In addition to the rust, I had to repair the ribbon vibrator which was bent out in front of the typing guide, and I’ll have to address the ribbon pick up moving to the left which isn’t working. The model came with broken 2 inch universal plastic spools and dried out ribbon which will need to be replaced with the correct smaller spools.

Richard Polt has posted a contemporaneous manual for the Zephyr typewriter for those who’d like to see what originally came with the machine. My favorite is that the manual appears to be typewritten. It has all the keystone markings of a pre-WWII manual with sparce diagrams and a wall of text.

Keys

The keyboard follows the general format of Smith-Corona’s American No. 20A set up. As was the case for most pre-World War II typewriters, the Zephyr came with round glass keys. The machine has 4 banks of keys which had become standard by mid-century. With 46 keys, the observant typist will notice that there are no shift lock or margin release keys. The shift lock can be effectuated by pushing down either of the shift keys and then moving them to the side where their metal levers can be “locked” into a metal slot under the key lever. If there’s a way to easily release the margin lock, I’ve not found it.

Other functionality

Obviously, it’s light weight and portability means that corners were cut including features like margin release, tabulation and niceties like touch control or a paper guide. Presumably this was meant for writers, journalists, and students on the go rather than accountants.

The machine features a carriage shift, which is quick and light, particularly because of the small size and weight of the platen and carriage.

The Zephyr doesn’t have the typical bichrome settings, but only features monochrome functionality. However, it’s still capable of doing stencils. While many typewriters have a specific mechanical setting for stencils, they can all generally do stencils by unhooking the ribbon from the ribbon vibrator. It bears mentioning that the ribbon vibrator here is effectuated by an unconventional method in the form of a metal bar which is attached at the left side which arcs up and down rather than a central mechanism as seen on the majority of modern machines which only moves vertically.

The Zephyr uses the typical 1/2 inch wide ribbon, but requires a smaller ribbon spool of 1 3/4 inches in diameter rather than the universal 2 inch spool. This gives the writer closer to 12 feet of ribbon rather than 16, but is still very functional.

To my knowledge, these machines came with body-colored spool covers. Sadly, like many I’ve seen in the wild, mine are missing.

One of the clever features is a miniscule carriage return lever. (As a point of comparison, I think the “ice cream scoop” return lever on the Royal Empress standard may weigh more than this entire machine.) It’s a tiny cupped nub the size of a thumb or finger tip which can be used to press it in to do the line space and then slide the carriage back home. To save on weight and engineering, the machine only has a single space ratchet, but it does have a switch for allowing variable platen spacing for filling in forms. The paper bail is also a simple metal arm, which means it’s not great with thicker card stocks like post cards or index cards, though it will work passably with a single card finger next to the typing point. One would not be happy doing lots of index card work on this machine.

One of the curious features of the machine is that it doesn’t have a traditional universal bar to engage the escapement. Instead there’s a thin, but sturdy simple wire right at the typing point that is hit by the typebars when typing. Pressing this bar in trips the escapement and moves the carriage to the next space.

Also particular to this machine is the “jacket” or exterior enclosure into which the typewriter chassis slides for protection. The machine is so small and tight that getting it into and out of the case can be a bit trying compared to its close cousin the Skyriter. To get the Zephyr out, one removes six screws and two small nuts to free the rear panel from the jacket. Then there are four screws which hold the jacket on to the chassis—two on the sides at the carriage and two in the keyboard near the shift keys. Then one needs to press down the top row of keys to carefully wiggle the unit out. However, the felt on the bottom of the jacket can impede the sliding of the metal. As a result one is best advised to insert a few thicker (index card weight or heavier) pieces of paper between the metal chassis and the felt and another between the top of the case and the keys to ensure they don’t get caught or scratched up. When re-inserting, similar care must be taken for the felt as well as for the (now brittle) plastic feet.

Kirk Jackson of Nashville Typewriter has a copy of the Corona Zephyr Servicing and Adjustment Methods manual which Theodore Munk has published on his blog. The manual lists among its six recommended tools, tool number “S. T. 1243 Keyboard Depresser (for Jacket removal and replacement)”. It’s a simple piece of cardboard for which they charged 25¢. Incidentally, Rev. Munk has also re-published a 1954 Smith-Corona Carriage Shift Portable Parts Manual – Corona 3, 4, Junior, Zephyr and Skyriter which contains lots of diagrams for those who might benefit from it.

Case

As also seen on early models of the Smith-Corona Skyriter, the Zephyr has a thin metal case that has two metal prongs which fit into the rear of the typewriter and then comes down over the typewriter and clicks into place with two metal spring bars with buttons that depress from the front of the case. It’s a simple and no frills case/cover, but far more effective and functional than some of the similar integral covers of typewriters in the late 60s and 70s. It’s not present on my Skyriter, but this case does have a very fine velvet-like interior which I suspect was somehow sprayed into the inside of the case as it doesn’t seem like it’s fabric glued into it.

Typeface Sample

The typeface on my Zephyr is Smith-Corona’s ubiquitous Pica No. 1 face with 10 characters per inch and types with 6 vertical lines per inch. A type sample from my machine with an overly wet, new ribbon appears below.

Sound

Here’s a sound sample of inserting a sheet of paper, aligning it writing a sentence, the bell, and a return with more typing on my 1940 Corona Zephyr:

Photo Gallery

Angle down on a front view of a brown crinkle painted 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter sitting on the top of an oak library card catalog

Oblique angle of a brown Corona Zephyr ultra-portable typewriter with black glass keys.

Table-level view of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter showing how thin the machine is. The top row of keys is nearly level with the top of the machine.

Close up of the main decal on the hood of a 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

Close up of the finger cup nub which is the return lever of a 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

Close up of the left corner of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter's carriage. Of particular note above the tiny platen knob is a chrome finger cup which is the entirety of the typewriter return lever.

Angle down on the left side of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

Table-level view of the left rear of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter from the back. We can see some metal wear near the tab hole where the metal case fits onto the back of the machine.

View of the right rear corner of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

View from the rear of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter featuring the internals of the carriage including the mainspring assembly and drawband. The inside is clean as a whistle.

Oblique view into the carriage and basket of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter from the rear of the machine with the carriage moved to the machines left.

Close up featuring the entire type basket of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter. The photo has the typing point at the front and the typewriter keyboard barely visible in the background

Close up of the left side of the type basket featuring a shiny Pica No. 1 typeface of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

Close up of the right side of the type basket featuring a shiny Pica No. 1 typeface of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

Angle down on a view of the right side of the 1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter

1940 Corona Zephyr typewriter sits on a wooden library card catalog next to a white ceramic bowl of bright yellow lemons

A wooden library card catalog on which sits a 1949 Royal Quiet De Luxe Typewriter next to a crystal old fashioned glass and a fifth of Glenmorangie in a scotch bottle. To one side is a blue vase with small pink roses.

I’ve seen many references comparing the use of typewriters in an overstimulating technology space to the slow food movement. Since one regularly pairs wine with their meals, it only seems right to extend the typewriter analogy to liquor as well. Today, I’m pairing this smooth 10 year single malt Glenmorangie Scotch with the 1949 Royal Quiet De Luxe.

Surely Hemingway would approve?

Type-o-sphere, what are you pairing with your typewriter today?

A blue library book charge card with space for the book title at the top and fields for date and issued to below. Typewritten, it reads: Polt, Richard The Typewriter Revolution: A Typist's Companion for the 21st Century Countryman Press, Woodstock, VT, 2015 Under DATE column it reads: 2024-04-29 Under ISSUED TO column it reads Intro, ch1, ch2 At the bottom in small blue type original to the card is the ordering information: BRO DART CAT. No. 23-115 PRINTED IN USA

Some how it felt sacrilegious to post it to Goodreads.com and not to type my status update for Richard Polt’s poetic paean to typewriters.

Acquisition: Remington Streamliner 196X Portable Typewriter in Metallic Mint Blue

On March 11, 2023, I’d gotten a nice deal on a Remington Streamline portable typewriter in a generally uncontested online auction. I was certainly taking a small chance on a typewriter only by a few photos and the label “untested”, but I couldn’t resist the mint blue color which seemed like it would be a close match to my TWSBI Eco T fountain pen and my custom General Fireproofing 20 gauge steel desk.

Yesterday, the typewriter arrived, and today I took a short break to open it up and give it a short test drive. In addition to the fantastic news that the machine is in stunning shape, its color is about as perfect a match to the pen and the desk as one could ask!

Overall

The overall condition was beyond my dreams for this vintage and with some plastic portions. The typewriter only has a few signs of use and wear with some paint worn off at the corners of the back and on the right hand side where the platen knob meets the body. A bit of the “R” on the top Remington logo is worn off and seems to be thermally printed on, so I wouldn’t recommend heavy scrubbing, harsh abrasives, or caustic chemicals when cleaning the bodies of these for fear of removing the logo all together. These small flaws gives the machine some nice patina and the street cred of some reasonable use as a portable. There’s some small wear to the plastic hood where the two position return lever has rubbed against it. Otherwise it is in about as good a condition as one could hope.

All the keys worked with some severe stickiness on the “L” key. The smallest of tweaks on the head of the typebar remedied the issue without resorting to cleaning. The margin release wasn’t operating properly, but only because an obvious and easily re-mounted tension wire had become unhooked.

There is some minor grime and dust inside the body which could stand some cleaning, but it’s in great shape right out of the box. I’ll try to spend some time blowing it out and cleaning it up internally while I await some replacement ribbon.

The typewriter itself is has a metal chassis which is permanently screwed into a slightly darker plastic green base. This base dovetails with the plastic lid to create a case with a rubber-like plastic handle. Sadly the lid of the case was badly cracked and splintered into a dozen or so pieces in shipping, so I’m going to consider the lid a total loss. I’ll have to fashion some type of cover to keep the dust (and more importantly the German shepherd fur) out of the internal mechanisms.

On this model, the serial number is imprinted on to the black metal bottom chassis between the “U” and “J” keys when looking down at the typewriter from above. The serial number on my particular machine is AX 16 74 89. Sadly, the Typewriter Database doesn’t have serial numbers for this model or the late 60s or early 70s timespan in which these were made. One model in the database is dated to 1969 with a serial number starting with CX so it’s possible mine may be as early as ’68 or ’69 but sadly without better data, one can’t be sure.

Richard Polt has a Remington Streamliner manual for the 60s available, and though it’s close in broad look and functionality, it’s obviously not for this specific model or year.

Given the time period and the metallic mint paint, I do sort of wish this model also had Positraction, but then I suppose it would have needed to be produced by GM rather than Remington.

Keys

The keys appear to be thin beige pieces of almost bone-like plastic floating in mid-air but have thicker plastic and metal bases which give them a nice action. There’s a standard back space (curved arrow on the left), a margin release (double arrow on the right), but surprisingly for the age, is missing a dedicated 1/! key. There is no built-in tab functionality.

Ribbon

The machine has the typical larger Remington ribbon cores and this one included a dead, improperly seated ribbon on original metal rings. I swapped these out briefly for a new ribbon, though the plastic hub doesn’t seat as tightly as one would wish for the ribbon advance to work properly. I’ll get some new ribbon and handspool it onto the original cores and we should be off to the races. I’ll note that no metal ribbon covers, which had been standard on earlier models of this make, were present, though its probably just as likely that these were never included on their later models either for weight, functionality, or manufacturing cost reasons.

I’m don’t see any switch or button for the spool reverse, but suspect that the built-in mechanical sensors will operate as expected for Remingtons of this era. If not, it’s easy enough to actuate the switch manually with the hood off.

Also not available on this model is a switch for using two colored ribbons, so I’ll just have to be satisfied with a single color.

Other Functionality

As a later portable, the machine is missing some of the additional niceties of heavier late 50s or early 60s desk models. It does have a “card finger”, though only on the left. The return arm has two positions and a simple friction fit operation—one for use and the other for storage.

The machine has a carriage shift rather than a basket shift. The platen knobs are rather on the small side, and don’t have a typical button for variable line spacing. This line spacing functionality is built into the small switch on the left hand side for single or double spacing, but is labeled as “0” for small adjustments. It doesn’t appear to have a carriage lock of any sort, but does have margin stops and a satisfying bell.

In general, this model is a no-frills portable meant for basic functional typing on the go.

Typeface Sample

The pitch on this machine is 10 characters per inch (pica). The full platen is 85 characters wide.

~~Since I don’t have a properly inked/fitted ribbon for it yet, I’ll post a typeface sample at a later date.~~

Photo Gallery

Oblique view from the right hand side of the mint blue typewriter next to which are a matching fountain pen and pad of Post-It Notes.

Left side of the Remington Streamliner typewriter featuring a lovely mint blue luster and a a shiny chrome carriage return.

View of the carriage return on the typewriter from the rear.

Close up from above of the typewriter hood and typebars/basket.

Angled view from the back of a Remington Streamliner typewriter featuring the carriage return, platen, and a view into to the typebasket.

Overhead view from behind of Remington Streamliner typewriter with the hood removed to allow a view into the typebasket featuring all the typebars and pica typeface as well as two plastic ribbon spools.

The mint blue body of the Remington Streamliner being held up next to an almost perfectly matched painted metal desk.

The lid of the Remington Streamliner case with a large crack down the top with several shards chipped off and sitting on bubble wrap.

Here’s a version of the timeline of some of the intellectual history I presented today at the PKM Summit in Utrecht. I’m happy to answer any questions, or if you’re impatient, you can also search my online digital repository of notes for any of the people or topics mentioned.

It covers variations of personal knowledge management, commonplace books, zettelkasten, indexing, etc. I wish we’d had time for so much more, but I hope some of the ideas and examples are helpful in giving folks some perspective on what has gone before so that we might expand our own horizons.

The color code of the slides (broadly):

orange – intellectual history
dark grey – memory, method of loci, memory palaces
blue – commonplace books
green – index cards, slips, zettelkasten traditions
purple – orality
light teal – dictionary compilations
red – productivity methods

Acquisition: 1957 Remington Quiet-Riter with Miracle Tab Manual Typewriter

In my recent typewriter collecting spree, I’ve received what may be the best of the group so far. Immaculately wrapped and boxed, the portable Remington Quiet-Riter arrived on my doorstep yesterday afternoon. With it’s incredibly smooth, quiet action and crisp elite typeface, I can tell it is going to be my daily driver for years to come.

Overall Condition

Having purchased it “untested” as an auction item at bargain basement price, you’re never quite sure what to expect, you just pray for no major escapement damage and go from there. I fully expected to need to fix half a dozen bits and some heavy cleaning as I have with other machines. As it turned out, each part I began testing worked flawlessly and the machine is quite clean!

In general the machine is in near mint condition. There is one tiny brown discoloration spot on the case, but, the case being brown, it’s not very obvious. Beyond this, the case looks like it just came off the factory floor.

The machine was generally very clean and almost looks like it had been serviced and then not used since. There was some lint and dust on the bottom which wiped off easily and a quick blow out should clear the rest. There are one or two minor signs of wear to the powder coat on the front and a small bit of peeling on the bottom rear, but overall it’s been pretty well loved and probably not seen more than a few years of moderate use.

Everything functioned as expected save two required adjustments relating to how the slugs strike the platen. The capital letters were striking a tad higher than the lower case, but the adjustment for the UC “on feet” screw on the bottom of the typewriter fixed that issue fairly quickly. There’s also two separate brackets each with two screws that will require adjustment for the caps lock to be properly aligned as well; I’ll take care of that later this week sometime. I notice one or two small screws that could use some fine tuning as well, but I’ll get to that shortly as well. Interestingly there is already a YouTube video for some of these adjustments for this exact year model should anyone need it. Additionally, Theodore Monk has some details for alternate makes/models.

The serial number on the machine is QR3214352 which the Typewriter Database dates specifically to April 1957. This means that this machine will be 67 years old this coming Spring.

The serial number QR3214352 stamped into the metal chassis. — The serial number on the Remington Quiet-Riter can be found stamped into the chassis on the right hand side of the machine on a piece of metal next to the ribbon spool underneath its hood.

Keys

Unlike many early typewriters, this keyboard has a dedicated key for the “1”/”!” as well as a dedicated caps lock key for the right hand (in addition to the usual one for the left). Also present is a special “Tab” key on the right hand side just below the margin release “M.R.” key.

Other Functionality

In addition to some of the standard functionality, including tab settings which became common in the 1950s, this unit has an auto-reverse for the ribbon, 3 type select settings for finger pressure/action, and three line space selections. Richard Polt hosts versions of the Quiet-Riter manual (1955) as well as a parts catalog (1953) a service manual (1953).

Of particular note (and something I’ve never seen on a machine before) is a set of teeth on the platen which have a custom switch for fractional line spacing. This is useful for sub-script and super-script needs. It’s effectuated by pressing down on the line locating lever on the left side near the platen knob which then allows one to rotate the platen up or down the required amount to type the characters. When done, one switches the lever back to set the platen to the original line spacing. This would also have been useful on older machines for creating equal signs with two strikes of the hyphen, but isn’t needed on the Quiet-Riter which has a dedicated “=” key.

While the unit came with an all black ribbon in usable shape, I chose to switch it out with a new blue/black combination. The Quiet-Riter has the larger custom 2cm core rings and spools (and this unit had the original metal rings and covers), so I had to manually remove the plastic cores from the newer ribbon and carefully insert them into the machine so that when the spool empties the mechanical sensor will trip and automatically reverse the ribbon. Of course, given the set up one could also wind their own replacement ribbon as seen here:

Typeface Sample

The pitch on this machine is 12 characters per inch (elite). The full platen is 110 characters wide.

Sound

Here’s a sound sample of inserting an index card, writing a sentence, and a return on the 1957 Remington Quiet-Riter.

Photo Gallery

Having the best tools does you absolutely no good unless you’re going to use them.

Collecting notebooks, fountain pens, or even typewriters is useless (other than their inherent beauty) without their use.

Acquisition: 196X Smith-Corona (SCM) Galaxie Deluxe 10 – 6T2V Series Manual Typewriter

I purchased this SCM typewriter through an online auction on 2024-03-02 and received it this morning on 2024-03-07 at 10:00 AM. The seller stated this was a 1969, but the Typewriter Database doesn’t seem to have serial number dating for this range of typewriters which were manufactured between 1966 and 1972. I doubt the seller was in possession of any details to support their 1969 claim.

The machine didn’t come with its original manual, but Richard Polt’s site has a reasonably close one for the Smith-Corona Galaxie line. You have to love the atomic logo on the front and the description “World’s Finest Non-Electric Portable”, which means that at the time, electric machines must have begun taking over the market.

Serial number: 6T2V-146176

Overall condition

The machine is in fairly reasonable shape with some scratches and imperfections. I’ll clean it up and post some additional photos shortly. I’ve already created a stub for it on the Typewriter Database. One of the noticeable bits of “wear” is that what were surely white plastic trim and keys have yellowed with light exposure over the ages.

There is some body wear and scratching commensurate with age, particularly where the return bar might hit the hood. It sadly didn’t come with a case.

The good news is that it not only works, but works pretty well for the model and age and the $18.00 I paid for it. Just playing with it a bit this afternoon has already given me more joy than the cost of admission. I can’t wait until I’ve given it a complete overhaul.

Keys

Space bar key is friction fit onto the keyboard and came off pretty easily when I flipped it over for some quick repairs. Fortunately it goes back on quickly.

I think this is the first time I’ve had a typewriter with a dedicated “1” / “!” key rather than relying on the “l” or the usual apostrophe-back space-period combination for those to glyphs.

It came with broken linkages on keys “1”, “T”, and “.”, but these were easily fixed although the “.” was blocked a bit by internal mechanisms. The “T” type-bar was slightly bent, but when back into alignment with a small tweak. All the keys work well though the “.” is a bit sticky, something that should clear itself up once fully cleaned. I suspect that these broken linkages were the reason the last owner gave up the typewriter. Overall, the typewriter has a pretty sharp action and a satisfying snap when typing. I’m including a sound file below.

View of the bottom of the typewriter with its bottom covered removed. several pair of handheld clamps are holding pieces in place and short lengths of dental floss are tied to portions of three different type arms. — A simple “surgery” to fix some broken keys and we’re off to the races.

For the fast typist that occasionally gets stuck with jammed keys, this model has a key unjammer (on the right side indicated with a key that has a down arrow over two opposing right and left slant marks). When pressed, it presumably pushes back on the U-bar which forces the typebars back. I’ll have to take a closer look at the mechanism when I open it up for a deep clean. This allows the typist the ability to keep their hands on the keys during a jam instead of needing to put their hand into the basket and manually fixing it. The key is roughly where the backspace/delete key on a computer keyboard would be, so it’s reasonably usable for the modern typist.

The machine comes with a clever tab, tab set, and tab clear arrangement just above the top row of keys. With the rear carriage open, one can see a row of metal “teeth” which are either switched “on” or “off” to allow the tab mechanism to operate.

The typewriter also has a fantastic “power-space” button to the right of the space bar that allows the carriage to quickly ratchet itself along. I’ve never had a machine that did this and can imagine using it regularly. I can’t wait to get into the internals to see how the mechanics of this work.

Other Features

The rubber feet are in reasonable shape and are still soft/functional.

The machine seems to be missing a plastic cover on the left side of the carriage, but this doesn’t affect functionality. The clear plastic line indicator which also holds the paper against the platen where the slugs hit the paper has sadly been broken off. There are still extant posts, so perhaps I can manufacture a replacement. One can align the top of the line retainer with lines on one’s paper and then advance to get proper type alignment in any case. This can be done by pushing in the black button in the center of the left platen knob to allow for variable line spacing

The unit came with its original metal ribbon spool, but otherwise didn’t have ribbon, so I’ve replaced it with a blue/green ribbon combination. Ribbon installation was very simple and straightforward. Of note here is that instead of lifting up and back as on many other typewriter models, the hood on this model has two internal arms which allow it to slide forward for easy access to the ribbon and type-basket.

The bell works!

The center of the type-basket is marked with the phrase “Jeweled Escapement” underneath a crown which includes a small red jewel.

The machine comes with a page gage on the left side of the platen assembly with markings for several lengths of paper. This cleverly allows one to set the page length of paper one is using, insert the paper, and then as one gets to the bottom of a sheet, lines appear for 2 inches left, 1 inch left, and finally a red line to indicate that one is at the end of the page and will need to quit typing to change sheets. With careful management, this allows the typist to have a consistent page margin at the bottom of their sheets.

The Galaxie Deluxe has line spacing controls for single, double, and even triple spacing.

At the base of the carriage near the right platen knob, there is a metal locking tab that when actuated will center the carriage and place it into a pseudo-locked position for storage or transportation in a case. It prevents the machine from typing or the carriage from moving to the left. Presumably it also disengages the escapement to prevent wear on the teeth during shipping, but I’ll have to check this when I’ve got it opened for cleaning.

Typeface Specimen

This typewriter uses a pica scale and the paper scale has markings up to 83 but will space to 84.

Sound

Here’s a sound sample of inserting an index card, writing a sentence, and a return on the Galaxie Deluxe.

Photo Gallery

Typewriter with two thin metal arms extended at the back. They would be used to hold up a sheet of paper.

Oblique angle of the typewriter from the left.

View of the bottom of the typewriter which has a sheet of metal that could be removed by unscrewing four screws.

The original manufacturer sticker has faded into nothing-ness

View of the rear of the typewriter with the rear carriage cover opened up to reveal the metal teeth that allow the tab mechanism to work.

Hiding inside

One of my favorite parts of used goods is the hidden things one finds inside of them. Here I really only expected the typical pencil eraser bits, but I also found a tiny photo of a boy from what appears to be the early 1970s.

Type On!

The Europe PKM Summit 2024 coming up on March 22 – 23 looks like a who’s-who of the tools for thought crowd. I’m putting together a few ideas myself… https://pkmsummit.com/

Typewritten index card that reads: Over the past few days I've managed to purchase four typewriters at auction. They all look to be in workable condition, though they may need some cleaning and TLC. Posts pending as they arrive...
* Brother Charger 11
* Smith-Corona Classic 12
* Smith-Corona Galaxie Deluxe
* Remington Rand Quiet Riter

How the typewriter collection is coming along.

Zettelkasten for Course Work

I’m tending to lean more toward telling students to rely more directly on something like Cornell notes while they’re in classes learning the basics of an area. Too many students considering starting a Luhmann-artig zettelkasten think that they ought to write down everything, atomize it, and link it which would take an inordinate amount of time to those new to the process. This is particularly troublesome because most courses (especially introductory ones) are designed such that much of the material should be fully internalized by the time the course is over. When you take a math class you might learn what 2+2 is and make a note about it, but by the time the course is over, that idea should now be so basic that keeping it in your system should be a bit laughable. Spending time to excerpt it from a lecture, make it atomic, and interlink it is a lot of make-work that isn’t likely to be useful either for the learning the thing to begin with, much less remember it in the long run to potentially use it again.

Once one has mastered most of a course, they might profitably skim through their notes at the end to summarize outcomes they saw and find most useful and interesting. Those things along with the summaries of their Cornell notes might then be useful zettels to keep in the long run. A zettelkasten practice like that of Niklas Luhmann is more useful when one already has a strong lay of the land and they’re attempting to do the work of expanding on the boundaries of new areas of knowledge.

If you are a student contemplating creating a zettelkasten, then the bulk of your notes probably ought to be short snippets kept with your bibliography notes and should not be individual zettels. By this I mean specifically that you might have a bibliographic note (reference note or literature note) for each individual lecture with some fleeting notes about it kept with that card. Then if necessary, you’ll probably only have one or two zettels or permanent notes out of each lecture. If you’re attempting to create 30 permanent notes a day and interlink them all, then you’re going to find yourself overworked and overwhelmed within just a few days.