The Evolution of the Typewriter: From Manual Machines to Word Processors
The Evolution of the Typewriter: From Manual Machines to Word Processors
Summary: A poster of a bright red Olivetti Valentine typewriter sparked a journey into the history of typing. From the early Remington models to Korean manual typewriters, and eventually to electronic machines and word processors—this post explores how writing tools evolved alongside our culture and technology.
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The Valentine Olivetti Poster |
The Valentine Olivetti Poster
The top of the poster reads: “A symbol of pop art, an anti-machine machine.”
A typewriter as a pop art icon? A machine designed to resist the machine? That’s quite a concept. Below, it says, “The original laptop. A portable work of pop art.”
It’s clearly a machine, but it seems to go beyond that—it transcends its mechanical function to become something closer to art. A beautiful, colorful object that’s not just functional, but expressive.
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Remington typewriter advertisement from the 1900s @Wikimedia |
A Brief History of the Typewriter
When it comes to recording text, we’ve had two main options: handwriting and printing. The typewriter landed somewhere in between. Printing was time-consuming and costly, especially when large quantities weren’t needed. In those cases, the typewriter was the perfect alternative. With carbon paper inserted between sheets, you could produce two or three copies at once.
The Remington Typewriter
This practicality led to typewriters being developed in various forms, especially in the 19th century. Many were bulky, resembling small pianos in shape and size. Among them, the one that achieved the greatest commercial success was the Remington typewriter. It was the first to use the QWERTY keyboard layout and was based on a design purchased in 1873 from American inventor Christopher Sholes.
Interestingly, the Remington company originally manufactured firearms. Even today, if you search “Remington,” you’ll likely be directed to remington.com, a firearms site. The company likely profited greatly during the American Civil War, but when the war ended, they faced an uncertain future. That’s when they diversified—into sewing machines, and eventually, typewriters. It was a surprising but resounding success.
Mark Twain and the Literary Typewriter
The Remington typewriter continued to improve over time and eventually became the standard for typewriters. It featured a cylindrical platen for rolling in paper, adjustable line spacing, a carriage return lever, an ink ribbon, and of course, the QWERTY keyboard layout—all features that became common in later models.
Today, when we picture a “writer,” we probably imagine someone hunched over a laptop, furiously typing away. In the 20th century, it was the same—but with a typewriter. Picture Hemingway in a smoky room, coffee on the table, pounding the keys of a manual machine.
But who was the first writer to use a typewriter?
That would be Mark Twain. He typed up one of his manuscripts using a Remington typewriter. Some say it was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, while others claim it was Life on the Mississippi—either way, he's credited as the first writer to use a typewriter for literary work.
Japy Populaire
There’s a delightful French film called Populaire (2012), a romantic comedy about a young woman competing in typing championships during the late 1950s. The story is set in 1959, and the typewriter featured in the film is the Japy Populaire.
Though it’s prominently used in the movie, it’s hard to find an actual vintage typewriter labeled “Populaire” in real life. A similar model from the same era is the Personelle J68, which shares a similar look and design.
🎬 Watch a scene from Populaire
Olivetti Valentine Typewriter
Olivetti was the first Italian company to manufacture typewriters, and one of its most iconic models was the Valentine, launched on Valentine’s Day in 1969. In many ways, it was a revolutionary machine.
Instead of the usual heavy metal body, the Valentine used plastic, making it much lighter. It was also colorful, with red being the most famous, though it was available in five different colors. As a portable typewriter, it didn’t use a typical hinged lid but featured a drawer-style case. There was a handle attached to the back of the typewriter—when you wanted to pack it up, you’d slide it into the case like a drawer and pull it out the same way.
Some have called it the “Apple of typewriters,” but with its sleek curves and bright style, I think of it more as the Ferrari of typewriters.
📽️ Olivetti Valentine Typewriter in Action (YouTube)
Korean Hangul Typewriters
Korea’s first Hangul typewriter was created in 1914 by Lee Won-ik, a Korean-American who modified an English typewriter. Later, in 1929, Song Gi-ju adapted an Underwood portable typewriter into a new four-set Hangul typewriter, which typed vertically rather than horizontally—a surprising concept today.
Early Adoption and Use in Korea
After Korea’s liberation from Japanese rule, the government encouraged horizontal writing. In 1949, a typewriter developed by Gong Byung-woo won an invention contest hosted by the Korea Invention Promotion Association. This became the foundation for what many Koreans now recognize as the standard Korean typewriter. Gong later served as the first director of public safety in Seoul.
Despite his innovation, the typewriter didn’t spread widely at the time. Back then, written Korean still used many Chinese characters, which the machine couldn’t type. The real boom in typewriter education began in 1969, when a bank requested recommendations from a commercial girls' high school. Not only grades but also typing skills were required for employment.
The Golden Age of Typing in Korea
By the 1970s, typing was considered a serious profession in Korea. The title “typist” or “typewriter operator” was common, and the skill was highly respected.
In fact, in the 1960s, typing was ranked as the fourth most preferred occupation for women seeking marriage. Old Korean films from that era often feature bustling office scenes filled with the rhythmic clatter of typewriter keys—an iconic sound of the time.
Even into the 1980s, if you wanted to get a job after graduating high school or college, typing certification was essential. The most common certificates were the Korean and English typing exams issued by the Korean Chamber of Commerce. You usually needed at least a Level 3 certificate, which required typing 300 characters per minute.
I also earned that certificate—but even though we had a typewriter at home, I still went to a typing school, practicing two hours a day for three months.
These typing exams remained a vital job qualification until 1995, when they were officially discontinued due to the spread of personal computers. At its peak, 300,000 to 400,000 people took the test annually, but by 1994, participation had dropped to just 100,000.
Interestingly, passing the typing exam once even allowed temporary government workers to be promoted to full-time staff—that’s how valuable it was at the time.
Clover vs. Marathon: The Great Typewriter Debate
I’ve always had a thing for gadgets. When a new home appliance arrived, I’d read the manual from start to finish and figure out how it worked. Whenever something broke or didn’t work properly, my family called me instead of checking the instructions. At home, they nicknamed me “Engineer Lee.”
Naturally, I desperately wanted a typewriter. When I entered college, I saved up my allowance and finally bought one. At the time, two Korean brands dominated the market: Clover, made by Kyungbang Machinery, and Marathon, by Donga Engineering.
There were foreign brands too, like Brother and Olivetti, but they were too expensive for a student on a tight budget.
I agonized over which one to choose. In the end, I picked the Clover typewriter—mostly because of the design.
The Marathon had a boxy, mechanical look with straight lines, while the Clover had a smooth, curvy, streamlined design that was just more attractive.
How Manual Typewriters Worked
All these typewriters were manual. When you pressed a key—like on a piano—a metal hammer with the corresponding letter would swing up, strike the ink ribbon, and leave an imprint on the paper.
Most ribbons were black, but there were dual-color ribbons: black on one half and red on the other. With those, you could switch to red text when needed.
Fixing Mistakes
How did we correct mistakes? Well, there was no delete key or correction tape at first. For official documents, you had to strike through the error with two lines and retype or handwrite the correction, then stamp over it with a red seal.
For personal use, we had a clever trick: you’d move the carriage backward with Backspace, place a piece of cellophane tape over the incorrect letter, and strike the key again. The hammer would lift the ink back off, and voila—error gone. Then you could retype the correct character.
Later, a product called Pelikan Blanco correction fluid became popular. It worked well, but only if you applied it neatly and waited for it to dry before typing over it.
Typing in Both Korean and English
If you needed to type both Korean and English? You had to own two typewriters. That’s what I did.
I’d leave space for the English parts while typing Korean. Then I’d take out the paper, load it into the English typewriter, line up the space precisely, and type the English parts. As for Chinese characters—they had to be handwritten.
Eventually, electronic typewriters allowed switching character sets by changing the print wheel. That was a relief.
Electronic Typewriters
Mechanical typewriters were followed by electronic models. I never used the ball-type machines, but I did use electronic ones for a few years until computers became mainstream.
These machines used a round print wheel—like a dandelion puff. It rotated to strike the paper with the correct character. You had to type lightly. If you pressed too hard, you’d get the same letter repeated—“zzzzz”—all across the page.
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Brother Wordprocessor @Wikimedia |
Word Processors: The Bridge to Computers
Almost at the same time, a new kind of machine emerged: the word processor. This wasn’t a program like Microsoft Word—it was an actual dedicated device.
It looked like a typewriter with a small screen—usually black and white, like an old electronic dictionary. You could type, edit, save your document, and even print directly from the machine.
Though a few vintage word processors are still sold secondhand today, they vanished quickly once personal computers became affordable.
Even if the screen had been bigger or in color, it wouldn't have mattered. Writers also need to do research and access the internet, which word processors couldn’t do. Buying a computer just made more sense.
What if word processors had internet and more memory? Then... they’d basically be laptops, wouldn’t they?
Final Thoughts
Looking back, those typewriter days were filled with a unique kind of joy. The clacking sound, the scent of ink ribbons, the satisfaction of pressing each key with purpose—it was all part of the writing experience.
Today, we write on digital screens, but some of us still long for the tactile feedback and focus that typewriters provided. They weren’t just machines—they were companions for creativity.
Also Read
Vintage Typewriters: Understanding the Remington
From Garden Pavililons to Touchscreens : The Surprising History of Kiosk
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