The 2014 Shady Characters gift guide

Interrobang cufflinks, by webbysue on Etsy

Interrobang cufflinks, made from vintage typewriter keys with the addition of printed interrobang glyphs. (Image courtesy of webbysue on Etsy.com.)

A couple of years ago, my wife gave me a pair of interrobang cufflinks (as shown above) for Christmas. They were the perfect gift, and I was lucky to get them — I’m afraid to say that they’re no longer available. But if you’re still looking for a gift for the punctuation-phile in your life, worry not: ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the inaugural Shady Characters holiday gift guide!

Cheese & crackers serving board from UncommonGoods of Brooklyn. (Image courtesy of UncommonGoods.)

Cheese & crackers serving board from UncommonGoods of Brooklyn. (Image courtesy of UncommonGoods.)

First up is this excellent ampersand cheese board from UncommonGoods of Brooklyn, New York. And really, is there anything else to say? The only thing that could improve this would be for it to be inscribed with a pilcrow or interrobang instead. The price is a little rich at $48, but surely this is worth the outlay of some hard-earned cheddar.

Next is a slightly more tangential gift. Type:Rider is a peaceful, pleasant stroll through the history of typography in the form of a video game for Android and iOS devices. It’s a lovely experience — this is no frantic shoot-’em-up — in which the player controls a mobile colon on a journey through ten different typographic worlds, from the Renaissance to the present day. It’s all accompanied by some lovely music. Even if you aren’t the video gaming sort (or, er, the object of your gift-giving isn’t the video gaming sort), Type:Rider is still more than worth the few dollars it costs. Give it a go!

Karl Weicholds Interrobang Vermouth. (Image courtesy of Interrobang LLC.)

Karl Weichold’s Interrobang Vermouth. (Image courtesy of Interrobang LLC.)

If Type:Rider’s puzzles prove to be too taxing, maybe it’s time for a relaxing cocktail instead? As covered here a few months back, Karl Weichold of Oregon’s Willamette Valley produces the delightfully-named Interrobang Sweet Vermouth, which would no doubt go down a treat in a Manhattan or Negroni. Unfortunately, only natives of the Pacific Northwest need apply; I’ve been unable to hunt down an online source for Mr Weichold’s liqueur, but if any readers do manage to lay their hands on a bottle I’d love to hear what you think of it.

Ben's Garden 'Symbol' Coaster Set. (Image courtesy of Nordstrom.)

Ben’s Garden ‘Symbol’ Coaster Set. (Image courtesy of Nordstrom.)

Of course, now you have that glass in your hand, it’d be nice to have somewhere to put it down safely. Enter Nordstrom’s ‘Symbol’ coasters: four coasters bearing symbols that will warm the cockles of the punctuation-loving heart. And just think — as the recipient of this thoughtful gift unwraps it, you’ll be able to regale them with tales of how the octothorpe, @-symbol, and ampersand came about in the first place. Assuming, that is, that you remembered to order that copy of Shady Characters you’d been meaning to buy since the paperback came out last month.
Thanks for reading, and for putting up with my excruciating gameshow-esque patter. It just comes naturally, honest. If you do end up giving any of these gifts this holiday season, do leave a comment to let us know how it went!

Augustus & Everything After: a Shady Characters field trip

Monumental inscription from Pompeii forum. (Photo by the author.)

Monumental inscription from Pompeii forum. (Photo by the author.)

The trip from the tourist town of Sorrento, clinging to the cliffs on the southern edge of the Bay of Naples, to the ancient settlement of Pompeii is an engaging one. Sorrento is the end of line, literally speaking: the railway track comes to an end there and so there is often a ticking, cooling train waiting on which to grab a seat before the journey begins. It’s also the place where the line’s itinerant folk bands take a cigarette break before the train beeps to signal its imminent departure. You will put a euro or two into their proffered caps, mostly because the weather is sunny and warm and you’re about to visit one of the most important archaeological sites in Europe, but also because it is physiologically impossible not to tap your foot along with upbeat accordion music.

Two kinds of trains ply the Circumvesuviana line. The new kind, the boring kind, are sleek, air-conditioned commuter appliances indistinguishable from modern light rail systems anywhere in the world, with tinted windows and space-efficient standing-room-only layouts. Their blunt, slab-sided predecessors are far more characterful, like ’70s NYC subway carriages writ large. They are battered, they creak, they are full of sharp edges and exposed rivets and peeling advertisements — and their aluminium skins are covered by graffiti from platform to roof.

Eventually, far later than advertised, the train pulls out slowly. It passes gingerly through the mountain tunnels and across the viaducts that together even out the peaks and troughs of the ragged coastline, and from its windows you watch shipyards, farms, towns and derelict factories pass you by, with the Bay of Naples sparkling behind everything to the west. And with the exception of the plants in the fields (who in their right mind would try to spray-paint crops?), everything is covered with graffiti: the trains, the buildings, the street furniture and all. I was surprised at the scale of it, but then perhaps I shouldn’t have been — the Romans have been graffiti enthusiasts from the dawn of the Republic all the way down to the present day.[1]

Brickmaker's stamp at Pompeii. (Photo by the author.)

Brickmaker’s stamp at Pompeii. This brick was laid into one of the streetside counters from which Pompeians bought prandium, or lunch, and where pots of hot food were kept warm in brick-lined receptacles. (Photo by the author.)

Personally, I was interested in one particular piece of graffiti. Pompeii is the closest that the ampersand has to a place of birth — the earliest recorded ampersand was found there as part of a graffito — and I wanted to find it for myself. I had no idea where in Pompeii it was, but then, I thought, how hard could it be to find? Time has a way of flattening ancient settlements, and I’m used to archaeological sites being mostly horizontal places where buildings, streets, and walls are witnessed only by their outlines in the ground. Surely a piece of graffiti on an upstanding wall would be signposted for all to see?

Well, no.

Pompeii is huge, and it is arrestingly intact. It is 170 acres of ash-blasted homes, shops, cafés, bath-houses, and brothels, all with their stuccoed brick walls still upright,[2] with a few marbled temples and stone theatres thrown in for good measure. Imagine all of that enticing wall space in an era before street lighting and you have a graffiti artist’s dream: when Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD,[3] choking Pompeii and its inhabitants with a dense cloud of volcanic ash, its walls were covered in messages.

Shopfront lettering at Pompeii. (Photo by the author.)

Shopfront lettering at Pompeii. “Lollium”? Translations are welcome! (Photo by the author.)

Professor Brian Harvey of Kent State University has compiled a few of the more notable tags, and my word, the Romans were a bawdy lot:[4]

Atrium of the House of Pinarius
If anyone does not believe in Venus, they should gaze at my girlfriend.
Bar/Brothel of Innulus and Papilio
Weep, you girls. My penis has given you up. Now it penetrates men’s behinds. Goodbye, wondrous femininity!
Gladiator barracks
Floronius, privileged soldier of the 7th legion, was here. The women did not know of his presence. Only six women came to know, too few for such a stallion.
Peristyle of the Tavern of Verecundus
Restitutus says: “Restituta, take off your tunic, please, and show us your hairy privates”.

Sadly, much of the graffiti is now lost or illegible, and as much as I looked I could not find anything resembling an ampersand. But there was plenty of “official” writing to take in as we wandered the streets in the baking heat, from monumental inscriptions down to bricks stamped with their maker’s mark, and so here I’ve collected a few of the more interesting inscriptions. (I must apologise for the quality of the photographs; I only had my smartphone with me, and I’ve had to edit some images to bring out the text.)

Inscription from theatre seating at Pompeii. (Photo by the author.)

Inscription from theatre seating at Pompeii. (Photo by the author.)

In the end, I rather forgot about finding the Pompeii ampersand. The sheer variety of messages, scripts and contexts was intriguing: there were monumental inscriptions in stately roman capitals; functional theatre seat numbers in a simple sans serif (brickmakers’ marks used a wonky, flared sans, a kind of fat, drunk Optima); and shopfronts and miscellaneous inscriptions were rendered in homely rustic capitals.

In gawking at all this I almost missed the one thing that should have been evident from the start: there is almost no punctuation! The Romans of the first century AD were still very much in thrall to the scriptio continua of their Greek cousins, and the only commonly-used mark was the interpunct (·), placed between words to it easier to parse continuous texts. There are no commas, colons, or periods here, much less any more sophisticated marks; it makes for a bracingly pure reading experience, if nothing else.

The more I think about it, though, now I’m back in dreich Edinburgh, the more it seems obvious that today’s monuments and shopfronts are lightly punctuated, too. As I look out of the window of the coffee shop in which I’m writing I can see only three non-alphabetic marks: an ampersand (irony!) on a sign for “Property Sales & Lettings”; a pair of “dumb” quotes explaining that a hairdresser is “Open Sundays”; and a full stop in a street sign that reads “St. Stephen Street”. Public typography will tell you a certain amount about how a society wrote their texts and communicated their ideas, but to really understand them you have to look at their more mundane works — the papyrus scrolls thrown onto the refuse heap, the pottery sherds used as makeshift receipts or ballot papers, or the wax tablets on which shopping lists and to-do notes were jotted down. And so today, Pompeii’s punctuational shady characters are little in evidence in the town itself — except, of course, for that one elusive ampersand, scratched somewhere on a wall and patiently awaiting rediscovery.

Inscription on stone plaque at Pompeii. (Photo by the author.)

Inscription on stone plaque at Pompeii. (Photo by the author.)

You can see more photographs of lettering at Pompeii in this photo album at Google+ (no sign in required). And if you’ve enjoyed this post, why not purchase a copy of the Shady Characters book to learn more about Roman ampersands, lettering and punctuation?
  • [1] A. Ruggeri, “Why, Why, Why Does Rome Have So Much Graffiti? – Revealed Rome,” in Revealed Rome. Rome: 2010. <http://www.revealedrome.com/2010/08/why-why-why-does-rome-have-so-much-graffiti.html> Bibtex

    @misc{Ruggeri2010, address = {Rome},
      author = {Ruggeri, Amanda},
      booktitle = {Revealed Rome},
      keywords = {Italy,graffiti ancient Rome,graffiti in Rome,street art,tagging,vandalism},
      month = aug, title = {{Why, Why, Why Does Rome Have So Much Graffiti? - Revealed Rome}},
      url = {http://www.revealedrome.com/2010/08/why-why-why-does-rome-have-so-much-graffiti.html},
      urldate = {2014-11-07},
      year = {2010}
    }
  • [2] “Pompeii, construction detail: “faux marble” column of brick covered with stucco,” in Art Images for College Teaching. University of Michigan Library. <http://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/i/image/image-idx?id=S-AICT-X-RM057\%5DRM000_IMG0057> Bibtex

    @misc{PompeiiBrick2014, booktitle = {Art Images for College Teaching},
      publisher = {University of Michigan Library},
      title = {{Pompeii, construction detail: “faux marble” column of brick covered with stucco}},
      url = {http://quod.lib.umich.edu/cgi/i/image/image-idx?id=S-AICT-X-RM057\%5DRM000\_IMG0057},
      urldate = {2014-11-07}
    }
  • [3] “Vesuvius (volcano, Italy),” in Encyclopaedia Britannica. Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2011. <http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/627039/Vesuvius> Bibtex

    @misc{VEB2011, address = {Chicago},
      booktitle = {Encyclopaedia Britannica},
      keywords = {ampersand,shady\_characters},
      mendeley-tags = {ampersand,shady\_characters},
      month = jun, publisher = {Encyclopaedia Britannica},
      title = {{Vesuvius (volcano, Italy)}},
      type = {Electronic citation},
      url = {http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/627039/Vesuvius},
      year = {2011}
    }
  • [4] B. Harvey, “Graffiti from Pompeii,” in Pompeiana.org. <http://www.pompeiana.org/resources/ancient/graffiti from pompeii.htm> Bibtex

    @misc{HarveyPompeii,
      author = {Harvey, Brian},
      booktitle = {Pompeiana.org},
      title = {{Graffiti from Pompeii}},
      url = {http://www.pompeiana.org/resources/ancient/graffiti from pompeii.htm},
      urldate = {2014-11-07}
    }

5 Punctuation Marks That Look Nothing Like They Used To

I wrote an article for the Huffington Post, and yes, I gave it a clickbait headline. Enjoy!

It’s paperback publication day!

The Shady Characters paperback cover

It barely seems a year since the Shady Characters hardback was launched. That’s because it was only a year ago, and yet here we are: the paperback is published today in the USA!

Jarrod Taylor designed the excellent new cover; Mark Forsyth, Eric Johnson, Zoran Minderovic, Tim Nau, Jeff Norman, Bill Pollack, Patrick Reagh, Jeff Shay, and Liz B. Veronis all helped weed out the errata that slipped through the net in the hardback edition. Thank you all!

So, if you’re in the market for a Shady Characters paperback, you can order yours now from Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Indiebound or Powell’s. (Dare I say that it would make the perfect Christmas gift for your favourite punctuation, typography, or history buff?) If e-books are more your thing, you can get Shady Characters for your Nook at Barnes & Noble; for your iPhone or iPad at iTunes; for your Kindle at Amazon (USA) or Amazon (UK); and in ePub format at Waterstones (UK).

Paperback competition: we have a winner!

Or rather, two winners. Congratulations to commenter Lyla and Twitter user @donserifa! Theirs names were picked at random from the set of all commenters on the original competition post, plus all those who replied to, retweeted, or marked as favourite the tweet announcing the contest. Their copies of the paperback edition of Shady Characters will be on their way very soon.

There were 212 entries this time round — thank you for all the fantastic tweets and comments! Commiserations to those of you who did not win, but rest assured there will be another competition on the way in the new year!