Story of a Pen Repairman

Text by Zhou Zhitao Photos by Zou Bin

With the rapid development of the economy and culture in China, countless “technical jobs,” which were admired in the past, have been disappearing. Pen repair is one of them.

For a passage of words, to write or type them down might just be a matter of choice. However, behind numerous such choices are hidden the fate for pens, ink, and keyboards.

Not long ago, the group depicted by flowery languages likewen zhi bin bin“gentle and refined in manner” andqi yu xuan ang“impressive in appearance” always wore eye-catching pens in their clean coat pockets. Nowadays, however, pens have gradually fallen out of our sight. In this situation, pen repair cannot help but accept its fate of being belittled.

Unlike many other pen repairmen, Wang Junnian has chosen to persist in his trade.

Let us have a look at Building 288, Jiefang Road, Wuhan, a city in Central China. From here you can go through a lane and find a workroom in a small partitioned house behind the stairs. Relying on the workmanship passed down by his father, the owner Wang Junnian has kept to the workmanship of pen repair for several decades. Along this street there were several other similar handicraft shops, but now they are lost to sight.

随着中国经济和文化的发展，无数曾被人们高看一眼的“技术活”正在作古，钢笔修理就是其中之一。

对文字而言，书写或者输入只是不同工具的选择，但对于笔墨和键盘，却是一次命运的安排。

曾几何时，“文质彬彬”“气宇轩昂”这些辞藻所描写的对象身上，少不了整洁上衣口袋里别一支显眼的钢笔的细节。如今，钢笔已渐渐淡出人们的视野，钢笔修理工也不得不接受被冷落的命运。

与众多钢笔修理工不同，汪俊年选择了坚守。

镜头聚焦到中国中部城市武汉解放路288号门栋。从这里穿过一段小巷，一个工作间藏在楼梯后的小隔间。主人汪俊年，靠着父亲的传承，坚守着修钢笔的手艺，一守就是几十年。这条街上曾经还有三五家这样的手艺店，如今踪影全无。

工作台前，一手握住钢笔，一手握住修理工具，汪俊年坚定的眼神凝视着指头夹住的笔尖。钢笔尖端的缝隙，窄得插不进一张刀片，这是墨水流向纸面的通道。缝隙宽一丝，字迹就粗一分；缝隙窄一线，字迹就细一分。

A customer has to wait outside the door since the shop is too small. 因店铺太小，客人只能在门外等候。

Besides repairing pens, Mr. Wang also repairs zippers and glasses. 除了修钢笔，汪师傅还修拉链和眼镜。

看上去，修理钢笔不过是对付几个简单的零件，但对汪俊年，足够的耐心和细心却要几十年的功夫。他的坚守里，还有穿越时空的怀念。

Holding a pen in one hand and a tool in the other, Wang is firmly staring at the pen point clamped by his fingers behind the working table. The gap in the pen point is so narrow that you cannot insert a blade into it. From this gap ink flows to paper. The wider the gap the pen point has, the thicker the handwriting you have, and vice versa.

Pen repair seems to deal merely with several simple parts. For Wang Junnian, however, enough patience and care for this job has been formed through years of effort.

Additionally, his persistence is accompanied by his memories lingering over time and space.

This 63-year-old man wears a white beard on his face. In his toolkit lie many pen points of those disappearing pen brands such as “Hero,” “Parker,” “WingSung,” and “Golden Star.” While these pen points are still as glistening as they were in his father's hands 30 years ago, customers have less and less interest in them. Occasionally, his shop is visited by several old customers of his and his father's.

One yuan, two yuan, three yuan… such meager repair fees look more like a simple greeting. Spending some time smoking at the working table, Wang waits for customers to come. Regardless of their need to repair pens, glasses, zippers, umbrellas, and so on, this old man is ready to serve customers.

This narrow space is more a place of meditation than a workroom since Wang's retirement. In here he meditates and refines himself.

The pen parts were collected by Mr. Wang over the past decades. 几十年时间积攒下来的维修配件。

(Translation: Cao Qing)

今年63岁的汪俊年，胡子早已刷白了他的腮颊，“英雄”“派克”“永生”“金星”……这些在岁月深处，日渐无从打捞起的钢笔品牌，躺在汪俊年的工具箱里，还如30年前，在汪俊年的父亲手中时那般闪亮，但渐渐地，问津者寥寥。偶尔有几位老主顾和曾经找汪俊年父亲修过钢笔的朋友，还会光顾一下他的生意。

一元钱、两元钱、三元钱……修理费如今更像是一种简单的问候。抽半天的时间，汪俊年在工作台前点一支烟，等顾客上门，修钢笔，或者眼镜、拉链、雨伞，修什么都好。

这狭小的工作间，更像是汪俊年退休后的一个修炼场，他修的是他自己。

Mr. Wang waits for customers at the entrance to the corridor. 在楼道口等客人。