The Octothorpe, part 2 of 2

Bell Telephone Laboratories, one-time research subsidiary of American telecoms giant AT&T, has produced some of the 20th century’s most influential developments in the worlds of science and technology. It boasts seven Nobel Prizes in Physics awarded for, among other things, a demonstration of the wave nature of matter, the invention of the transistor and the discovery of background cosmic radiation. Other notable products of this storied research centre include the laser, radio astronomy, the first communications satellite and the UNIX operating system,* which forms a key component of the internet and of modern computing in general.2

Most relevant in terms of punctuation, though, is a small linguistic innovation which emerged in the wake of a much larger technological one. Engaged in the 1960s in reinventing the world’s ageing telephone dialling system, one of the many Bell Labs engineers working on this mammoth task was almost certainly responsible for coining the term ‘octothorpe’. And though the octothorpe’s birthplace is well recorded, the question of exactly who created it is somewhat more contentious. Read more

*
In certain UNIX programs, the hash symbol is forced into a shotgun marriage with the exclamation mark — the ‘bang’ in printers’ parlance — to yield ‘#!’, the ‘hash-bang’ or ‘shebang’.1 

The Octothorpe, part 1 of 2

The ‘#’ symbol is something of a problem child. It seems at first to be quite innocuous, a jack-of-all-trades whose names and uses correspond in a pleasingly systematic manner: ‘#5’ is read ‘number five’, leading to the name ‘number sign’; in North America, ‘5#’ means ‘five pounds in weight’, giving ‘pound sign’, while the cross-hatching suggested by its shape leads to the commonly used British name of ‘hash sign’.1

Dig a little deeper, though, and this glyph reveals itself to be a frustratingly multifaceted beast. Its manifold uses encompass the sublime and the ridiculous in equal measure. Its varied but functional aliases have lately been joined by the grandiose moniker ‘octothorpe’, bestowed upon it for reasons more frivolous than practical, and the whys and wherefores of its etymology elude even the most studied experts. The simple ‘#’ is not nearly as simple as it seems. Read more

The Interrobang: addenda

Shady Characters readers have again provided some great extra detail on the marks discussed here. Penny Speckter comments on The Interrobang, part 2 with some heartening information regarding the interrobang’s official status:

While the interrobang has evoked both enthusiasm and derision, and may, like Esperanto, become a blip in history, still, it has evoked thousands of words of interesting comment. And it has finally been awarded an official status in Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 10th edition, published in 1996 under the definition “punctuation,” where it is listed alphabetically along with other recognized marks.

Also, Leonard Boiko reminds us of the interrobang’s Spanish counterpart, the so-called ‘gnaborretni’, and points out that it too has made its way into Unicode. How could I have forgotten‽

I’m away this coming week, so look out for The Octothorpe, part 1 in two weeks’ time, on Sunday 8th May. Thanks again for the comments!

The Interrobang, part 2 of 2

The interrobang’s arrival on the keyboard of Remington Rand’s Model 25 typewriter brought with it a new wave of interest in the character. In common with its appearance in Richard Isbell’s Americana,1 the mark’s transition from hot metal type to the typewriter keyboard was the result of a happy coincidence: a Remington Rand graphic designer saw ATF’s sample brochure for the font2 and lobbied in turn for its provision on his company’s typewriters. The Model 25’s replaceable key and typehead3 allowed different characters to be installed as required, providing the perfect vehicle for promoting this as-yet unproven mark of punctuation. Remington Rand entertained ideas of effecting a revolution in punctuation with its new interrobang key, and said as much in an internal newsletter: Read more

Errata

In researching the history of the interrobang I’ve been lucky enough to have corresponded with Penny Speckter, Martin K. Speckter’s widow and an ardent supporter of the mark of punctuation he created. After publishing The Interrobang, part 1, she got in touch to let me know that Martin in fact did not lobby for the inclusion of the interrobang in Richard Isbell’s Americana typeface (as mentioned in the newspaper article I cited to that effect1) but that instead it came about purely by chance. I’m happy to set the record straight here for Mrs Speckter — her support has been invaluable and is typical of the generosity and enthusiasm of many of the people I’ve been in contact with over the course of putting together this material.

Commenters here on Shady Characters have also helped a great deal by ferreting out mistakes both large and small. One inaccuracy I think is worth mentioning here is my use of the term ‘religion of the Book’ in The Pilcrow, part 2 to refer to Christianity — I hadn’t appreciated that this could apply equally to a number of other religions, and the way I’ve used it here is a little misleading. Thanks to Theodore for pointing this out!

I don’t plan to update the articles themselves just yet (getting each new article ready for publication inevitably occupies all my attention), but I’ve made changes to the offending posts, and I hope that this note goes some way to mitigating these errors. Again, thank you for all the interest in Shady Characters and look out for The Interrobang, part 2 next weekend!

1.
Publishers’ Auxiliary. “Interrobang (!?) Expresses Modern Life’s Incredibility.”