flow

I can't quite let go of cursive writing, that is, of writing by hand.  These days you can get workman's compensation for pain and disability caused by computers and there are names for it, like carpal tunnel syndrome and tinosynovitis - I had that, even though I can't spell it.  Hand-writing could cause pain, too, especially to writers, writers without secretaries.  In Roman times such secretaries were called amanuenses, educated slaves who could write and who relieved their owners' stress.  I know of two writers in the 19th century who needed help.  Louisa May Alcott wore out her hand making carbon copies of her manuscripts. She tried electric shock to try to ease the pain caused by repetitive pressure - no ultra-sound in those days.  Henry James wore out his hand with his prolific writing and he also wore out two amanuenses.  (One of them was named Helen Bosanquet - how could I forget? - but I'll check.)  So now we have computers to save our hands but our wrists wear out.  There's a whole science of ergonomics now, dealing with ways of coping with the hazards of computer activity.  Potential pain is not the  reason for people not writing by hand, though.  Hand-writing is simply not prized. My grandfather, my father's father, won first prize for Penmanship in a contest in Canada which led to his successful career.  Imagine getting a job these days because of what used to be called "a beautiful hand"!  (Not a bridge hand.)  I have terrible hand-writing but it doesn't stop me. It's my age, you see; I still love paper, hands-on.  I love to make notes and lists, scribbling ideas and reminders and aides-mémoire (yes!) and then, when I have followed up on them, throwing away the paper they were written on.  I love paper, too, and write on the back of used paper.  This is not ergonomic, this is ecological.   And now my battery is running out. My hands feel fine.