Breguet Writing Instruments

Name and reputation can be a burden, as much for a critic as for the object of criticism. If the name in question is Breguet, the expectations and their realization become even more problematic, because what one expects from the company heir to arguably the most illustrious watchmaking tradition in the world is not merely very high quality, but a certain expression of quality- in short, an embodiment of a philosophy. Montres Breguet, already known for their beautiful, top-tier luxury watches, is now producing writing instruments, and the question foremost in the mind is not only, 'is it a good pen,' but also, 'is it a Breguet?'

With the introductory models in their writing instrument lineup, Breguet has aimed very high. Breguet's first foray into the market consists of a limited edition of three instruments, which will be offered as a specially packaged set and sold only through the Breguet boutiques. The star of the collection is of course the Breguet fountain pen, which, like the other two pieces in the collection (a rollerball, and a convertible ballpoint/fountain pen) seems deliberately calculated to make a statement about Breguet's relationship to quality in general, and to their own design heritage in particular. Indeed, the fountain pen might almost have been designed to conform to a list of ideal parameters for a modern luxury fountain pen, and it is in many respects a no-holds-barred exercise in quality.

The first visual impression is one of imposing mass, solidity, and conservative refinement, and handling the pen only confirms the initial impact; this is a large, heavy pen, a long (14 cm) tube of heavy deep-drawn sterling silver, only slightly broken up by sober bands of dark blue iridescent resin at the cap top, between the section and barrel proper, and between the barrel and piston knob. Deep drawing is a technique in which a silver disk is repeatedly drawn through a die that gradually elongates it into a cylinder. Ordinarily cylinders are produced simply by rolling a sheet of metal; the advantage to deep drawing is that it produces a seamless tube.

The sterling silver surfaces are then richly articulated in finely done guilloche, which is something of a Breguet trademark. In many pens, as in many watches, what one finds is not true guilloche but rather a stamping that simulates it; the Breguet fountain pen's barrel, cap, and piston knob are authentic engine turned silver, which is done by hand and represents a considerable investment in manual labor and expertise. There are very few craftsman able to execute such work, and it is quite pleasant, though not surprising, to see this elaborate decorative art form lavished on Breguet's writing instruments as well as on the dials of their haute horlogerie timepieces. Stamping, or in some cases computer guided engraving, can produce pleasing results, but to my eye all too often also results in a subtle but unmistakable blurring of the grain of the metal, whereas an engine turned surface can be seen, under magnification, to expose and express the grain of the metal rather than obscure it. To the naked eye the metal grain might not be particularly visible, but the incomparably greater richness of the play of light on the worked metal surfaces is unmistakable.

Fortunately the beauty of the Breguet Writing Instruments fountain pen is more than skin deep. It was equally wonderful to find that the pen is a piston filler, rather than a cartridge/converter filler; I am always disappointed to see beautiful limited edition pens which despite their beautiful design resort to a pedestrian filling system, and to grasp the engine-turned silver knob of the Breguet fountain pen's piston and charge the barrel with ink is to experience the anachronistic pleasure of fountain pen use in its purest form. I have been unable to ascertain whether or not Breguet, in their fountain pen, have returned to the use of a two-stage telescoping piston, unlike all other modern manufacturers who employ a simpler single stage piston. It would be unrealistic to expect Breguet to use a two stage piston when a single stage piston has become the industry standard, and yet, one might be allowed to hope that in the future the two-stage telescoping piston, with it's greater ink capacity, might return; Breguet, with the commitment to preserving traditional forms of mechanical as well as aesthetic excellence which the name implies, would be a fitting brand to oversee the return of this truly technically superior filling system. The nib has been executed in 18 karat gold, with a full rhodium mask, and is adorned with the discreet Breguet 'B' which is filled with a subtle blue enamel that echoes the iridescent blue resin used to accent barrel and cap.

Under 10x magnification, there is another indication of Breguet's commitment to functional as well as aesthetic excellence: the nib tipping material is not merely perfunctorily rounded off, but rather carefully ground to present a flat surface to the paper. Such tip material treatment was the standard for high quality pens during the Golden Age but is not often found in modern pens; a carefully ground faceted tip produces greater capillary flow between nib tip and paper, and ensures that the skipping and hard starting that often mars the writing experience in the use of many modern pens will not be inflicted on the user of the Breguet fountain pen. The feed is also an exercise in traditional writing instrument craftsmanship; cut ebonite (vulcanized rubber, also known as 'hard rubber') rather than the more common plastic. While a plastic feed can offer excellent performance, the inherently superior ability of sawn ebonite to conduct ink is well known.

With the cap posted the dimensions of the pen become even more impressive; over 17 centimeters, with some slight variation depending upon how firmly the cap is placed. Such a physically massive pen might easily overwhelm the hand and be unduly tiring to write with or hard to control, yet the Breguet fountain pen is so well balanced and the nib so expertly ground that the experience of writing with it is one not of awkward manipulation of an unwieldy mass, but rather a kind of deliberate fluency, enhanced enormously by the almost uncanny smoothness of the nib on paper. The Breguet fountain pen writes with imperturbable evenness on paper as varied as Crane stationery, Moleskine notebook paper, legal pads, and standard A4 printer paper, tolerating a plebian diet surprisingly well for a pen bearing such a patrician name. The medium nib lays down a line that I can only describe as enormously, sensually pleasurable. Unlike many modern pens, whose feeds discharge so much ink onto the paper that any qualities the nib might have are obscured by a torrent of ink, the Breguet fountain pen's nib releases a sensitively metered flow that produces an almost stub- or italic- variation in thickness between horizontal and vertical strokes. The writing experience afforded by the Breguet fountain pen is, in my opinion, easily able to stand up to comparison with even the finest vintage fountain pen nibs.

If there are any doubts in a potential owner's mind they would probably center around two concerns: the design of the clip, and the sheer weight of the pen itself. The clip, which is executed in sterling silver as well, is functionally impeccable- spring loaded, it holds firmly to fabric despite the ease with which it's inserted in a shirt pocket- but the design, which echoes the shape of Breguet watch hands, may strike some as a too obvious homage to the horological antecedents of the brand name. While an overly deliberately designed clip can be, in my opinion, one of the most irritating elements in an otherwise well done pen, and while I must confess that the Breguet clip struck me at first as a too-obvious echo of the past, with time I came to find it not only appropriate but even interestingly distinctive. Breguet deserves credit also for casting the clip from solid silver, rather than stamped and rolled sheet metal, as is the case on many of even the highest quality modern fountain pens. The shape, as well as the presence of the circle near the tip, not only echoes the shape of Breguet watch hands but also reflects the shape of a fountain pen nib, with it's triangular contour and circular vent hole; this relationship becomes much more apparent with the cap posted. While an ostentatious cabochon stone most often impresses me as a superfluous and even ugly affectation the blue stone in the Breguet clip is understated enough to enhance the appearance of the pen, without unduly drawing attention to itself.

That leaves merely the question of mass. There is no doubt that this is a heavy, large pen, which might seem better suited for signatures than daily use, but the ease with which it fits even a small hand, and the pleasant combination of good balance with a surface replete with both tactile and visual richness, recommend it for any sort of elegant and personal writing, from correspondence to journal entries. Breguet has succeeded, in their first outing as a pen manufacturer, in seamlessly mingling aesthetics and functionality in a way that many other pen makers with much longer histories might envy. I can think of no greater compliment to the pen than to say that it transcends even the historical burden of its name- when one takes it up and writes with it, one is not so much conscious of the name as of the sheer enjoyment of the act of writing itself. Paradoxically that may be what, more than anything else, really makes it a Breguet.