WHAT’S IN A NAME

A few nights ago, after midnight, I took down from my shelves a thick book titled Great Short Stories of the World in which the authors’ signatures appeared at the beginning of the stories. Knowing a small measure about handwriting analysis, I gave it a try. I turned every page of the 788 pages just for the signatures. Many of them I could not decipher at all. One thing for sure, it is easy to determine which signatures were practiced and learned for effect and which ones derived their uniqueness through instruction in penmanship (the Palmer method in America) and time. Younger doctors don’t know how to “write like a doctor” anymore, for they didn’t study penmanship in school as older generations did.

Several characteristics we need to consider in analyzing handwriting, say, of a long-dead writer: at what age did he write this signature; does it slant to the left or to the right, or is it straight up and down; is it level, or does it go up or down  as it progresses across the page; is the letter “i” dotted high in the sky or close to earth and does it have a childish circle above it; how is the “t” crossed, mostly to the left of the trunk, or to the right or up in the air above it; are loops below the line fat and generous or are they skinny; what about a line drawn below the name (sign of self-confidence or even ego)? And what does it all mean?

As I began to turn the pages, I noticed that most of the signatures leaned to the left. That could mean those writers were not gregarious or fond of company, or perhaps of people generally. It was a surprise to come to Isak Dinesen’s signature which leaned to an extreme right. I recall her being in America (from Denmark) the year she was campaigning for the Nobel Prize (which someone else got). I had imagined her with a left-leaning handwriting. But then I never knew her, but just some of her writings.

The prettiest signature, in my estimation, is Hemingway’s, pretty enough to be framed and hung on the wall of a writer’s study. But it says bad news: left-leaning and with other signs, it fits the picture of his not really liking people, or of an inferiority complex. Did you read the article many years ago in Life or a similar magazine which told about his 35 or so cats in his house in Cuba, rather than people? Somewhere I read that when you visited him, you immediately got a pair of boxing gloves which you had to use so that he could show his performance in boxing and too bad about your lack of it! His signature looks practiced, as if it must be such-and-such. The part of a word that goes below the line, as the “g” and “y” are just straight lines. The dot over the “i” is clearly up in the air and well toward the “-ay.” Perhaps the most telling aspect is not a straight line below the name, but through the name from the “E” to the “H.” I see extreme writing talent in this name, but a personality that could kill that talent. And it did.

Two of the easiest names to read are those of Pearl S. Buck and W. Somerset Maugham. Apparently their personal problems did not interfere with their writing. Maugham’s signature even climbs upward on the right, a good sign. I’ve read. But the writer that takes the prize for writing upward on the right is that of Guy de Maupassant, the father of the French short story.

There are too many signatures in this huge book—and I knew this before I started—but I must leave off with these few. Edgar Allan Poe is not in this collection. He was born in 1809, a different historical age when real short stories did not appear on the presses. Then he was finally recognized as one of the best and was allowed to adopt all those other writers. Yes, he is the father of the American short story. The book contains no Introduction or Preface, but I trust my memory is holding up well.  ♥