KLARA G. ROMAN V' r;;}fandwriting A KEY TO PERSONALITY Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd. Broadway House, 68-74 Carter Lane London, E. C. 4 By kind permission of author and publishers, fig. #16 is reproduced from an article by Werner Wolff in Collier's, May 22, 1948; figs. 242, 243, 245 are reproduced from DIA- GRAMS OF THE UNCONSCIOUS, by Werner Wolff, Grune (j Stratton, N. Y., 1949. MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Designed by Lucian Bernhard • First published in England by ROUTLEDGE & KEGAN PAUL LTD. 1954 PR E FA C E A book on graphology is likely to be accorded a more appreciative reception today, both from the general public and in academic circles, than would have been possible a few years ago. The in- creasingly widespread acceptance of the dynamic theory of per- sonality has laid the groundwork for a fuller understanding of grapbology in America. Yet it is of interest to note that in Europe grapbology is among tbe oldest psycbological approaches for the study of personality, and was widely used before the advent of psycboanaiysi), Gestalt theory, social anthropology; or projective techniques. At the present time, the ps-ychologist working with projective techniques and other tests is well equipped not only by a thorough knowledge of dynamic psychology but also by specific professiondl training. Unfortunately, the graphologist still labors in an un- definable limbo; no specific course of training, no set of academic standards, no degree or certificate in graphology exists to attest the scientific background and reliability of the handwriting analyst. In short, the graphologist is, of necessity, a self-made in- diuidual, learning more from his own efforts than from those of others. However, it is important for the graphologist to have dual skills: he must have specific knowledge, and beyond that a pro- found understanding of personality, if be is to be capable of synthesizing the facts as well as the intangibles into a true per- sonality picture. The author of this book had the privilege of working for more than two decades on research projects instituted by government agencies and clinical institutions in Europe, notably in Budapest. The present study is, however, not a recapitulation of the widely v published results of those years. Rather, it is an attempt to make a modest contribution toward the many efforts directed to the study of personality in the United States. As regards data in this specific field, the author is grateful for the experience provided by work at Michael Reese Hospital in Chicago, to which she was called by Dr. Franz Alexander. Further excellent opportunities for observation and testing have been afforded her in the give and take of contact with her unusually mature students at' the New School for Social Research, New York. Students of any scientific subject should realize that the es- sential method is the same for all fields, yet each discipline is unique with respect to the nature of its data and th'e manner by which it is derived. Although graphologists have attempted to objectify handwriting analysis and to treat graphic factors psycho- metrically, these attempts have thus far provided only limited information, less valuable than that derived from the composite impression obtained from the writing pattern when viewed as a whole. Nevertheless, the need for further work of this sort is obvious, for there are many long-accepted graphological hypotheses that still carry an implied question mark. The verified answers for which we strive can be obtained; but it will take time. To be scientifically convincing, all conclusions must be checked and double-checked under adequately controlled conditions. In the meantime, we have to rely partly on hypotheses based upon sub- stantial evidence and found to accord with verified psychological laws and principles. The method of handwriting analysis presented in this book rests mainly upon psychometrically and experimentally verified observations and, further, on generalizations that promise future validation through use simultaneously with clinical and projective tests. It gives me pleasure to make some expression of thanks to those persons who have helped me in the preparation of this book. I am especially indebted to my students and co-workers, Mr. Leslie A. Bebwnek, Mr. Sol Levine, Mrs. Patricia A. Miller, Miss Tess Segel, VI Mrs. Sipor« Van Praag, and Miss Dorly Wang. Their extensive familiarity with the field of psychology permitted them quickly to attain insight into and appreciation of the principles and po- tentialities of graphology. Their sustained interest, assistance, and numerous suggestions have been of inestimable aid to me in the completion of my book. Thanks are also due Mrs. Lily Erlanger, Mrs. Ruth Gutt-man, and Miss Betty Roberg for their technical aid in the preparation of illustrations, charts, and diagrams. Mr. John Rewald very kindly put at my disposal his collection of autographs of famous artists. The handwritings of Manet, Monet, Ingres, and Jacques Lipcbitz in this book are reprod-uced from letters in his possession. Finally, I should like to express my gratitude to two artists, Mr. Willy Pogany and Mr. Leon Dabo, who supplied me with. specimens of handwritings of prominent artists. I am also indebted to Mr. Pogany for his aid and suggestions in constructing the more complicated charts. The reader of this book should bear in mind that no re- production of a handwriting can fully convey the erno- tional quality and vitality of the original script. VII c o N T E N T s HISTORY: The French Pioneers-German Scientific Groundwork-Advances in Switzerland-The Hungarian School-American Developments 3-18 Part One: DEVELOPMENTAL STAGES IN HANDWRITING I SCRIBBLING 21-39 Interpretation of Scribbles (23). The Riddle of the Doodle (29). Doodles and Psychotherapy (J 6). II LEARNING TO WRITE 40-59 Association 0/ SPeaking, Reading, Writing (42). Eye-Hand Control (42). T'be Writing Model (44). Analyzing Chil- dren's Handwriting (47). Reversals and Left-Handedness (51). Stuttering (54). The Ungainly Hand (56). III HANDWRITING IN PUBERTY AND ADOLESCENCE 60-79 Graphic Rciiectio» 0/ Confiicts (61). Ex periment al and Statistical Studies (64). The Grapbod yne (64). Develop- mental Sex Differellces (67). Diagnostic Value of Graphic Indices (69). Writing Pressure in Adolescence (74). Graphic Indices of Behavior Disorders (77). IV PERSONAL STYLE 80-103 The Linear and the Pictorial Pattern (82). The Sbontoneou: and the Artificial Hand (86). Consistency in Personal Style (90). bl/luences 0/ Time and Place (90). The American Hand (95). Professional and voceuonel Patterns (99). ix Part Two: ANALYSIS AND INTERPRETATION V THE STUDENTSHIP 107-112 Intuitive Perception (108). Empirical Generalizations (110). The SPecimen Collection (111). VI MATERIAL AND PROCEDURE 113-133 The Overall-Impression (119). Differentiation, Ordering, and Inter pretation of Graphic Indices (124-130). Synthesis (132). Ethics 0/ the Graphologist (132). VII SYMBOLISM OF THE WRITING SPACE 134-146 The Three Zones (137). Direction (140). Direction in Ancient Writing (14)). The Mythology 0/ Right and Left (145) . VIII EXPANSION OF THE WRITING PATTERN 147-183 Proportions (148). Vertical and Horizontal Expansion (150). Capital Letters (161). The Capital "I" (/63). Projection of the Body Image (165). Zonal Interpretation of Size (/66). The Lower Loops (17i). IX SLANT 184-198 Fluctuations in Slant (/92). Slant a1ld Handedness (194). X CONNECTIVE FORMS 199-220 The Garland (203). The Arcade (207). The Angular C01l- neetiue Form (214). The Threadlike Connective Form (216). The Mixed Connective Form (218). XI CONTINUITY AND FLUENCY 221-239 Continuit y of Stroke and Unity of Movement (224). De- grees 0/ Connected ness and their Meaning (228). Fluency in Speech and Writi1.g (234). Disturbances in Flow of SPeech and Writing (235). XII SPEED AND PERSONAL PACE 240-253 The Dynamics of Pace (242). Graphic Indices of SPeed (247). Factors Affecting SPeed (250). x XIII WRITIN G PRESSURE 254-277 Pressure amI Muscular Strength (261). Pressure and Psychic Energy (263). Displaced Pressure (270). Emphasis Revealed in Pressure (273). XIV TENSION AND RELEASE 278-288 Grapbod yne Study of Tension-Release Patterns (279). Psy- cbosomatic Aspects (282). Expressive Significance (283). XV ARRANGEMENT 289-310 Spacing (289). Alignment (292). Word Interspaces (300). Margins (303). The Writing on the Envelope (308). XVI THE SIGNATURE 311-331 The Development of Self (311). Imaginative Projection (314). The Roots of Graphic Imagery (315). Congruence of Signature and Body Script (319). Relation of Given and Fa11fily Name (J 22). Personality Changes (J 23). Elaboration and Appendages (326). Plecement (330). SAMPLE ANALYSES Handwriting of a Young Woman Applicant for a Secretarial Position WITH USE OF 335Handwriting of an American Artist 340 WORK SHEETS Handwriting of a Delinquent Girl 345 Handwriting Analysis in a Criminal Case 352 BIBLIOGRAPHY 363 INDEX 371 xl INTRODUCTORY HISTORY Interest in handwriting as an expression of personality is really as old as the use of writing itself. Over three hundred years before the Christian Era, Aristotle observed: "Spoken words are the symbols of mental experience, and written words are the symbols of spoken words. Just as all men ha ve not the same speech sounds, so all men have not the same writing." Another early observer was Suetonius Tranquillus, his- torian of the first twelve Caesars. Speaking of the handwriting of the Emperor Augustus, he said: "I have above all remarked the following in his writing. He does not separate his words, nor does he carryover to the next line any excess letters; instead, he places them under the final word and ties them to it with a stroke." A later Roman emperor, Justinian, records in his memoirs that he has been struck by the observation that an individual's hand- writing changes with ill-health and age. The first known systematic attempts to study and describe the relationship between handwriting traits and character traits were made in Italy at the beginning of the seventeenth century, when Alderisius Prosper published in Bologna a study entitled Ideo- graphia. A physician, Camillo Baldo, followed him with a treatise presenting a method for judging the nature of a writer from his letters." Both of these studies fell into oblivion. However, they must have attracted some contemporary readers, because subse- quently it became a practice for itinerant magicians and other wonder workers to go from castle to castle giving consultations on character by means of handwriting interpretation. 3 In the eighteenth century, CUrIOSIty about the possible revela- tions to be found in handwriting began also to stir the minds of poets and philosophers. They were fascinated at discovering the intimate link between handwriting and character, and in studying scripts they came Up with sharp observations and personality portraits of startling accuracy. THE FRENCH PIONEERS ArQund 1830, a strong interest in the disclosures to be obtained from handwriting arose in France. The Abbe Flandrin and his disciple, the Abbe Jean-Hippolyte Michon of Paris, spent their lives in studying handwritings. Their successes in interpretation soon became known throughout the country. Michon possessed a methodical mind, an extraordinary gift for observation, and a photo gra phic memory. He collected thousands of hand writing specimens and studied them with attention to each of the minute details that he designated as "elements of the handwriting." He regarded each of these graphic elements as a "sign" to be inter- preted as an outward index of an inner attribute. After thirty years of intensive concentration on the subject, Michon published his system of handwriting analysis. He coined for itthe name of "graphology," which became widely known and accepted after his publication of Les mysteres de I'ecritureI06 in 1872 and La methode pratique de graphoiogie107 in 1878. These books intrigued people in general and attracted artists and scholars to the study of handwriting. From the ranks of his disciples grew the Societe Grapbologique, which flourished up to the time of the second world war. Michon was branded by later graphologists as a mere "inter- preter of signs." He is said to have ascribed to each sign adefinite and fixed meaning. Moreover, the absence of a given sign in a script was held to indicate a quality opposite to that which would be indicated by its presence. On the other hand, he formulated a "law of balance," stated in La methode pratique de grapholog;e as 4 follows: "One sign does not cancel the significance of another. The counterweight of opposing signs must be considered." It is true that Michon's interest was focused mainly on the meaning of forms, in contrast to the orientation of those later graphologists who came to regard handwriting purely as "crystal- lized" expressive movement. Modern graphology, however, con- siders both movement and form as expressing and projecting the writer's inner life. Thus Michon's contribution in relation to the interpretation of graphic forms will have to be revised. One of Michon's successors, J. Crepieux-jarnin, broke away from the "school of fixed signs," as this system was later called. He shifted emphasis from the elements of handwriting-such as the forms of t bars, i dots, hooks, and flourishes-to the over-all aspects. "The study of elements," he said, "is to graphology as study of the alphabet is to the reading of prose." He stressed the point that a handwriting must be perceived as a whole, to which each trait contributes in: varying degree and with differing empha- sis. This concept-in its approach much akin to the gestaltist point of view-lead him to a theory of "resultants" produced by the combination and interaction of many elements, i.e., traits,zz Crepieux- Jamin persuaded Alfred Binet, the founder of modern methods of intelligence testing, to examine into the realiability of handwriting analysis. The first problem was to test the assumption that specific character "traits correlate with specific handwriting traits. The affirmative results with respect to the graphic indices of honesty and intelligence brought new esteem to graphology, which Pierre Janet hailed as a "science of the future." A further crucial aspect of the investigation turned on age and sex differ- ences in handwriting, and it was demonstrated that neither the chronological age nor the sex of a writer can be ascertained from his script." Crepieux-jamin explained that it is the psychological and not the physiological personality that is revealed in handwrit- ing, and ever since the time of these decisive experiments, graph- ologists have always requested information about the sex and age of a subject before undertaking a handwriting analysis. 5 GERMAN SCIENTIFIC GROUNDWORK During most of the nineteenth century, French investigators held the foremost place in theoretical and applied graphology. Toward the end of the century, German scientists took over the leadership. Though they based their first steps upon the work of Crepieux- Jamin, they later minimized the part he had played in founding scientific graphology. German treatises did not mention his name, though the standard German work, Handschrift und Charakter, by Ludwig Klages, even borrowed its tide from the Frenchman's popular work, L'ecriture et le caracterer? The first penetrating insights regarding the phenomenon of writing came from the work of physiologists and psychiatrists, who instituted methodical investigations. Wilhelm Preyer, a pro- fessor of physiology at jena, demonstrated the similarity of the writing patterns produced by use of different body members-the right hand, the left hand, the mouth, the toes.126 Figure #1 shows the fluent and legible script of a man who had no arms or legs, and who, in Preyer's presence, used his mouth to direct the pen. The concept that handwriting is really "brain writing," a centrally organized function, was formulated by Preyer in 1895. His publi- cations met with an unreceptive attitude on the part of his aca- demic colleagues, who thought it pathetic "that a scientist of merit 6 should lose himself in the field of dangerous sciences, among which hypnosis and graphology belong." Georg Meyer, a psychiatrist, made a further important contribu- tion by undertaking to analyze writing movement.l'" One of his conclusions was that the character of a handwriting is determined not by the anatomy or the strength of the writer's hand but by his "psychomotor energies." While underlining what he considered the three main factors of writing movement-extension, speed, and pressure-Meyer regarded unity of expression as the decisive feature of psychomotor functioning. To demonstrate the relation- ship between writing movement and emotion, he conducted ex- periments with psychotic patients in states of mania, elation, and depression. Furthermore, Meyer recognized that problems of expression can- not be treated apart from what he called the "character" of the writer. Graphologists, he believed, needed the help of a new sci- ence, "characterology," and a common vocabulary for the two fields, e.g., terms for denoting those intangible properties or traits of personality which almost defy definition. His suggestion was fully developed later by Klages" and also independently by Theo- dor Lessing. S8 The new scientific perspectives opened up by Meyer and Preyer gave the impetus for the founding, in 1896, of the Deutsche gra- phologische Gesellscbajt . Among its members were Hans H. Busse;" a criminologist, and Klages. To promote graphological theory and practice, the Graphologische Monatshe/te were issued. Through the untimely deaths of Busse and Meyer, Klages, then known as a brilliant young philosopher, became the leader of German advance in graphology. He stamped his personality on every phase of the new science. THE METAPHYSICAL ApPROACH The essential findings regarding the writing process, as linked with characterology by Preyer, Meyer, and D. Erlenmeyer.i" were 7 combined by Klages into a single system representing a "science of expression." The array of his books includes, besides Handscbrijt und Charakter,82 such works as Die Probleme der Graphologie,77 Grundlegung der Wissenschaft des Ausdrucks, Ausdrucksbeweg- ung und Gestaltungskraft.78 He established "laws and principles" of graphology, characterology, and expressive movement, based largely upon his own metaphysical theory of personality. The basic law of expression, Klages holds, is that each expressive bodily movement "actualizes" the tensions and drives of the per- sonality. He points out that there is correspondence in the dif- ferent realms of movement-speech, facial expressiori, and hand- writing. They have a common "form level" (Klages' term is Formniu/o, and the strange spelling is his own), which is adjudged according to the general "rhythm" of the individual's movement. Rhythm in Klages' sense is an "indefinable something" that can be understood only by "intuition." The form level of a script is the criterion of its qualities as a whole. It is a leading precept of Klages' that a handwriting pattern should be evaluated on the score of its form level before any scrutiny of its various features is undertaken. The doctrine of form level, faithfully followed by the German graphologists, was rejected in other countries. At the present time, evaluation of handwriting primarily on the basis of the intangible phenomenon of rhythm is no longer an acceptable procedure; in the eyes of modern graphologists, it is "the evaluation of yester- day," as L. Kroeber-Keneth puts it.8s Klages' books were enthusiastically received in Germany. They: were also highly rated abroad, though understood by few. Their pompous style and not invariably clear formulation of ideas con- fused and disaffected readers not attuned to the Teutonic roman- ticism of his philosophical speculation. His magnum opus is Der Geist als Widenacher der Seele,80in which he develops his "biocen- tric" doctrine. Here he advocates a kind of anti-intellectualism that became one of the cornerstones of the biological-mystical ideology 8 of the Nazi creed." As Andras Angyal" points out, Klages' theory exaggerates the conflict between what he calls Geist [conscious. mental function, spirit] and Seele [feeling life, soul]. The two are, for him, antagonistic forces. The Geist, according to Klages, penetrates from the outside into life like a wedge, causing ... a fundamental split .... Klages ... regards the mind as a factor which disturbs living, as a Lebensstbrung, A whole generation of German graphologists grew up under the leadership of Klages and his Zeitscbriit /iir Menschenkunde, with its supplement, the Zentralblatt Jiir Grapbologie, Through his personal influence Klages succeeded in curbing the graphological mercenaries who were legion in Germany at the time. He helped to give graphology a scientific standing; at the same time, he found ways of suppressing points of view and investigative trends that ran counter to his own. At the beginning of the present century, much experimental work was devoted to the study of handwriting by Emil Kraepelin, a widely known German psychiatrist, and his co-workers.t" Using the Kraepelin scale, they attempted to measure writing pressure and speed in norrnal/" and mentally disturbed persons.?' Klages, who was antagonistic to experimental psychology, claimed that graphology should be dealt with as a science apart, and studied by "psychologically minded" persons. Induction based on clinical observation, no less than the use of psychometric techniques, seemed to him an inadequate approach. He enjoined other graphol- ogists not to participate in clinical and experimental work. The result was that co-operation between graphology and medicine ceased for a considerable time, and graphology was surrendered to metaphysics and armchair speculation. *This development is traced by Lessing in his autobiography, Einmol "nd nie wieder.89 9 PROGRESSIVE CONCEPTS Fortunately for graphology, however, progressive forces were at work giving new impetus to experimental investigation and clini- cal procedure. Rudolf Pophal, a neurologist, undertook to study the physiology of the writing movement on the basis of findings made earlier by Kurt Wachholder158 and Anton Rieger.':" The purely somatic aspect had up to that time not been included in the field of inquiry. Pophal published several books on the subject of motor-physiological graphology,120 dealing particularly with ten- sion phenomena in handwriting.P" After the second world war, when he was appointed professor of neurology at the University of Hamburg, he published a treatise entitled Die Handschrift als GebirnscbrijtP? Pophal established a typological system, classifying personality types on the basis of essential differences in types of motor behavior as reflected in the motor patterns of handwriting. He differenti- ates two essential types: the one is found in persons whose motor processes show a functional dominance of the phylogenetic ally younger part of the brain, i.e., the cortex or pyramidal area, while the other denotes persons whose motor activity is mediated pre- dominantly by older parts of the brain, i.e., the extrapyramidal area. Despite the depression conditions of the postwar period, the study and application of graphology has continued to gain impe- tus in Germany. Handwriting analysis is regarded as a branch of applied psychology, and graphologists are frequently consulted in the vocational and medical diagnostic fields. Courses in graphology are an integral part of academic curricula in psychology and are also pursued by many students of medicine. Robert Heiss." W. H. Mueller in collaboration with Alice Enskat.U? and Bernhard Wittlich,164 have published manuals ·on graphological theory and the interpretation of handwriting for the use of medical students, psychologists, and criminologists. 10 ADVANCES IN SWITZERLAND Since the middle twenties, Swiss graphologists have been making significant advances under the leadership of Max Pulver and his co-worker, Oskar Schlag. Pulver has elaborated his theory of the symbolic meaning of the writing space in a study entitled Sym- bolil: der Handschrift,128 in which large consideration is given to the concepts of depth psychology. Schlag has specialized in com- parative studies of the findings of analytical psychology and graphology. Rejecting the form-level theory, Pulver has stressed the study of the biological self, which is ignored and desexualized by Klages' metaphysical precepts. Pulver has pointed to new possi- bilities in the interpretation of graphic features and done pioneer- ing work in demonstrating how both conscious and unconscious drives are projected in the writing patrern.P? The high regard in which graphology is held in Switzerland, where it is used more frequently as a test procedure than the Rorschach and other projective techniques, is due to the thorough training provided for students of graphology in that country. Pulver has for many years been conducting courses and seminars in graphology at the Institute for Applied Psychology in Zurich, and has also been lecturing at the University of Zurich. In 1939 three Czech graphologists, Otto Fanta,36 Karl Menzel.l"! and Willy Schonfeld.P" launched a journal called Die Schrift, which published the studies of graphologists in various countries who had been working independently of Klages or who had broken with his school. Although the journal quickly won recognition and was hailed as a significant undertaking, it was short-lived because of the political turmoil that soon engulfed all of Europe. THE HUNGARIAN SCHOOL In Hungary the study of graphology began about 1920. Al- though Hungarian investigators were familiar with both French and German graphological advances, their work followed an inde- 11 pendent path of development. It is significant that in Hungary psychologists in university positions as well as clinicians furthered the study of handwriting. 130 They used graphological analyses to supplement information obtained by clinical methods and by means of other psychological techniques.i? Scientifically trained graphologists collaborated in clinical practice and in research.I" Thus controlled observation facilitated the validation of grapho- logical findings. 57 In 1920 the Hungarian graphological association (Magyar Irds- tanulmanyi Tarsasag) was founded, and subsequently an institute of handwriting research was set up in Budapest, under the auspices of the ministry of education. Efforts of individual graphologists were correlated and guided by the graphological associaricn.? so that the results obtained had a collective significance.v' The need of objectifying graphological procedure, and of dealing with inves- tigative data in terms of measurement, led the present author to construct a device known as the graphodyne'", this apparatus has been used in large-scale investigations.P especially in the study of writing development in school children. This led to establishment of standard values that can be used as indices of maturation and mental growth.!' The practical value of these standards was demonstrated in testing abnormal children, whose writing per- formances were found to deviate from the norm in proportion to the degree of their abnormality. Dezso Balazs and Richard HajnaF introduced psychoanalyti- cal concepts into Hungarian graphology and published several treatises and a textbook on the subject. Chief Justice Peter Nemeth used handwriting analysis for the better understanding of juvenile delinquents. lIZ In a biographical study of Hungarian classical poets, Erzsebet Goldziher-" matched graphological findings with available biographical data. The present author participated in a research project concerning the handwriting of twins, carried out at the medical school of the University of Budapest." The results of this work were published in papers and textbooks, shortly be- fore the outbreak of the second world war. Political events have 12 put an end, for the time being, to graphological endeavor in the countries behind ehe "iron curtain." AMERICAN DEVELOPMENTS Investigation of handwriting in America received. most of its impetus from advances made in France and Germany, at a time when graphology in these countries had already established its own traditions and schools of thought. One of the first American experimenters with handwriting analysis was June Downey of the University of Iowa. She became fascinated by the challenge of handwriting as an aspect of expressive movement, at a time when "trait psychology" predominated, and concentration on measure- ments of single traits-intelligence, for example-tended to pre- clude a broader outlook. Downey realized the difficulties inherent in observation of expressive movements, especially in the absence of any standard criteria. She approached the problem using the matching method, comparing judgments based on writing with findings based on gait, gesture, carriage, etc. In 1919, in Graphol- ogy and the Psychology of Handwriting,27 she published the results of her investigation of the "assertion frequently made, that graphic individuality is but a specific example of a pattern that is impressed upon all the expressive movements of a given person." An investigation closely resembling Downey's was conducted by Gordon Allport and Philip E. Vernon in 1930 and 1931 at the Harvard Psychological Clinic." These authors based their investiga- tion upon three assumptions: (a) personality is consistent; (b) movement is expressive of personality, (c) the gestures and other expressive movements of an individual are consistent with one another. These assumptions constitute a foundation for all prac- tical attempts to diagnose personality on the basis of external movements. Allport and Vernon made use of experimentation and statistical tools, but did not overlook the fact that "consistency of expressive activity lies not only in the correlation of measures, but in their 13 meaningful interrelation as well." They utilized comprehensive experimental records pertaining to speed, size of- script, and pres- sure of movement; many of their experiments were carried out with the subject using both the right and the left arm and also both legs. Most of them were repeated, so that several hundred measurements were obtained. The results led to two major conclu- sions: first, a considerable degree of uniformity appears in a repeti- tive performance, just as manifestations of habit or repeated ges- tures are consistent; second, there is an internal consistency in all of the movements of an individual-that is, an identical quality marks the performance of several tasks with different limbs or muscle groups. If an individual is inclined to a rigid, inhibited pat- tern of behavior, it will be as evident in his manner of walking as it is in his writing, and no less in the way he holds his head, and in the facial expressions and the gestures that accompany his speech. It is interesting to note here that Rudolf Arnheim's! as ~ell as Werner Wolff's earlier and more recent studies'P have led to the same conclusions. Allport and Vernon collaborated with professional graphologists such as Edwin Po.wers125 and Robert Saudek in conducting hand- writing experiments. At the time prejudice against graphology was at its height. Psychologists had been unfavorably influenced by inconclusive experiments based on copying exercises instead of spontaneous writings. The experimenters had measured in these scripts some of the elementary "signs" of older graphologists, and judged the subjects according to the supposed meanings of these indices. Finally, their judgments had been compared with person- ality ratings made by students untrained in either personality re- search or graphology. Allport and Vernon and their collaborators tried to explain that an isolated trait as such has no fixed meaning, and that the resulting evaluations were as invalid as the criteria and conditions of the experiments in question. Saudek realized that in order to overcome the adverse attitude of academic psychologists, he would have to replace the speculative trend of European graphology with objectivity, and rely more 14 heavily upon quantitative methods. Proceeding experimentally.V Saudek used microscope, pressure board,139 and slow-motion pic- tures to examine handwriting movement.l " He carried out experi- ments with the handwritings of persons of all nationalities and classes, analyzing the effects of different types of penmanship training; in this he was following a suggestion of A. S. Osborn's.U" He compared the handwritings of disabled persons with those of normal individuals.P? and studied the observable differences be- tween the natural and the artificial handwriting of a subject-as when, for example, an individual who normally makes letters of minute size is asked to write in large letters. Saudek's emphasis on the significance of speed as an index of personality led him to develop a table listing fourteen traits "re- lated to the law of movement.Y'! He also listed some ten general traits, any four of which, when occurring together in a script, were said to reveal dishonesty in the writer. Saudek founded Character and Personality, the first journal of graphology to appear in Eng- lish. His publications aroused the interest of British psychologists and gained for graphology at least a limited recognition in the United States.148 The impression in Germany was, however, that he was essaying problems beyond his scope, and overplaying experi- mentation in his attempts to measure and express intangibles in terms of ounces and split seconds. After Saudek's death, and up until recently, there was a taper- ing off of interest in graphology in both Great Brirairr'P'' and America, although a number of books''? and papers''! dealing with the subject appeared in this interval.V By and large they offered no new contributions, no original concepts, nor any innovations in technique. Endeavoring to explain and popularize the theories of modern European graphology;" these investigators tried to anchor their practical knowledge in the harbor of some accepted method of personality analysis.l'" such as psychoanalysis, projective tech- niques, Gestalt theory, clinical psychology in relation to pathologi- cal indices in handwriting.P: 92 or the simple rationale of measure- ments and statistics. They even tried to combine several of these 15 approaches and to impose upon them the speculative psychology of the German school. A decisive step toward the introduction of a more objective method in graphology was taken in 1942 by Thea S. Lewinson in collaboration with Joseph Zubin.?' These authors addressed them- selves to "the ·problem of finding a common denominator for evaluating the quantitative and qualitative aspects" of handwrit- ing. Their method, according to their own exposition, is based on the work of Klages in so far as it utilizes the concepts of contraction and release of the graphic factors and the concept of rhythmic balance as the norm. However, its point of depar- ture from Klages' theory of rhythm rests on the premise that rhythm is the midpoint between contraction and release, i.e., rhythmic balance is the central point between the contracting and releasing tendencies. Every handwriting movement in the vertical, horizontal, or depth direction might be expanded or contracted. The balanced handwriting movement lies in the middle between contraction and release. In accordance with this concept, the authors developed a system of scales, which they applied in a clinical manner to the handwrit- ings of normal and abnormal individuals. The enormous labor entailed in establishing ratings and taking measurements with especially devised instruments does not permit of the use of more than a small part of a given handwriting specimen. It is a question whether single words can suffice to reveal the "differentiation pat- tern" of a handwriting. Rose Wolfson, after participating in the Lewinson-Zubin exper- iment, applied the scales in an independent approach. In 1949, she published her Study in Handwriting Analysis,170 which deals with handwritings of delinquents and nondelinquents. Wolfson ana- lyzed four lines of each writing specimen, scaling movement ten- dencies as reflected in twenty-two factors. She found significant differences between the delinquent and the nondelinquent group. 16 The most important outcome has been that a possible "delinquent constellation" emi!rges from her work. Among the most recent contributions is that of Wolff, one of the contemporary authorities in the field of experimental graphol- ogy, whose Diagrams of the Unconscious is the result of twenty years of research and, observatiori.P" This author is endeavoring to found a so-called experimental depth psychology based on grapho- logical experiments. He has created a method of his own, based on intensive study of the signature. He measures the elements of the signature, seeking to demonstrate an inherent relationship in their length, position, and form, and proceeds to show that "graphic movements are not accidental, but a fundamental expression." He demonstrates that certain qualities in the signature persist through- out the life of the individual. Wolff's significant contribution lies in this postulation of the consistency of the graphic pattern. He has cleared much ground through both his theorizing and his experimentation. There is, however, some doubt as to how conclu- sive such measurements of the signature can be, and whether a signature in itself can actually yield a "diagram of the uncon- SCI.OUS. " A still more recent publication is Ulrich Sonnemann's Hand- writing Analysis.150 This volume is a contribution to clinical psychology. The foregoing brief review of the history of graphology has surveyed the successive efforts that have been made to utilize hand- writing analysis as a key to personality. The distinctive nature of the handwriting function, together with the fact that every hand- writing is unique and never duplicated by another, has led psychol- ogists to concentrate observation upon it, sensing that it offers clues to the hidden regions of human nature. These are the regions of personality that intuition has so often recognized, but, that psychological science-up. to recent years-has noted so little. From the nature of the material sought and the techniques and devices that have been developed so far, it is obvious that it is no 17 easy matter to establish validity and reliability in handwriting interpretation. But similar difficulties beset all fields of personality research. Graphology took its start under the spur of "hunches" and naive "common-sense" explanations. Then came various at- tempts to make it scientifically convincing through collection and organization of empirical data. The scientifically minded workers in the field have endeavored to base theory and method of inter- pretation upon evidence obtained through controlled observation. Their striving for satisfactory answers to the intricate problems of personality has led them constantly to re-examine and revise widely accepted hypotheses. Two major challenges confront the graphologist of our day. The first is the need of verification of so-called laws and principles, which can be accepted as valid only after they have been checked and rechecked under the broadest possible control. The second is the need for development of new devices to further more adequate research along the lines of modern psychology. The problems are before us. Many promising leads for future advances are at hand. 18 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I PART ONE Developmental Stages In Handwriting I - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ( I ) SCRIBBLING Children delight in scribbling. They enjoy wielding a pencil and marking up clean sheets of paper with a jumble of lines. Their random movements over the paper are the graphic equivalent of babbling-spontaneous motor play, engaged in for its own sake. In its swing and speed, in its release of force, the child experiences what French psychologists call joie du mouvement. As the child goes on with this play, the random movements soon fall into a sequence; this sequence of movements is performed in the child's own individual way. One child may use loose, circling movements that produce whorls; another may propel the pencil with a tense and angular motion, producing zigzag strokes. In some children the movement is free and sweeping, in others it is restrained. Some make forceful strokes, others exert only slight pressure, covering the sheet with weak, diffuse strokes. The given pattern, once found, will be repeated again and again. It is the child's own, his achievement and acquisition, and he is filled with pleasure at feeling himself the ruler of his own move- ments and master of his tools and thus of his environment. It gives him a new sense of self-and also a new means of expressing self. Ind~ed, each of his moods and emotions can find its own expres- sion within the relatively stable pattern of his scribble. Cheerful- ness expands his line pattern, anxiety constricts it. Sadness reduces its size and gives the stroke a downward slope. Aggressive feeling shows itself in increased angularity, and rage in an outburst of vehement strokes. In figure #2, specimen a records the broad, springy curve of a good-humored scribbler, specimen b reflects a 21 #2 (a) (b) (c), burst of dynamic activity, and the angularity of specimen c represents a release of aggressive feeling, The by-product of this movement-e-rhe scribble itself-does not impress the child, who abandons it quickly. To the trained ob- server, however, it is a visible record of the child's self-expression -a manner of speaking for himself shaped prior to and independ , ently of any teaching. Because of its individual execution, and because any given child makes all of its scribbles in the same way, the scribble of one child can readily be distinguished from that of another. Repetition is characteristic of every kind of primitive pattern making. Performing a given movement over and over induces a pleasurable feeling, because it is a return to something familiar, which makes for a sense of security. The repetition moreover estab , lishes a certain symmetry, which becomes apparent also in the scribble pattern. The sense of symmetry appears not only in humans but also in other primates. Paul Schiller, of the Yerkes laboratory, trained a female chimpanzee named Alpha to scribble with a pencil on sheets of paper. Alpha was fond of this activity and showed a remarkable sense of symmetry. When given a sheet of paper bearing a dot polygon with one dot missing, she would 22 complete the figure. When she was handed a sheet with some fig- ures already drawn on it, she preferred to scribble in the dear spaces on the paper. When dots were set in a cluster on one side, she would draw on the other side, producing a fairly well-defined symmetrical pattern. Although psychologists both in the United States!' and abroad'" have studied scribbling, only graphologists have recognized that it expresses fundamental personality traits.V Free expression is curbed while the child is learning to write under school methods that force him to imitate copybook letters. But once he acquires ease in writing, there is a return to free expression, and thus the graphic individuality that marked his scribbles will reappear in his handwriting. INTERPRETATION OF SCRIBBLES The persistence of these early revealed traits Was first observed some forty years ago by Minna Becker, a German schoolteacher. Her ingenious interpretations of scribbles were based upon grapho- logical principles that have since been developed and broadened. Just as in the analysis of handwriting, the graphic features of scribbles are examined under the three aspects of movement, form, and arrangement (p. 124). The characteristics of the movement are reflected in the stroke." The latter is judged according to (a) size, i.e., whether the stroke is long or short; (b) direction, i.e., whether it is drawn from left to right, from top to bottom, or vice versa; and (c) pressure, i.e., whether it is forceful or weak. In addition, there are other, more subtle qualities of the stroke that are likewise determined by the dynamics of the movement.V'' We may get a hint of these if we compare a writer tracing a stroke with a violinist drawing a bow across the strings of his instrument. Just as each violinist has his individual, unique way of bowing, which determines the essential quality and expression of his tone, so each individual has his unique Jllanner of tracing a stroke. It may be heavy or light, smooth or 23 jerky, full or flat, rigid or flexible, sharp or fuzzy, dark or pale, tense or slack, etc., according to his specific bodily equipment, his emotional make-up, and various other attributes of his person- ality.129 In respect to form, we look to see (a) whether the strokes are integrated into a whole or into groups, or remain unrelated j (b) whether the pattern consists of whorls and loops or angles and zigzags j and (c) whether the pattern is well formed or shapeless, clear or vague. In judging the arrangement, our attention focuses on -the man- ner in which the child uses the available space-whether the pat- tern is (a) centered or scattered, (b) compact or spread out, (c) large or small, and (d) whether the page is filled up or barren. To the criteria of movement, form, and arrangement we may add that of the over-all aspect, or the general appearance of 'the scribble-whether it is unified or amorphous, monotonous or ~I~_-'--->-C-:.;~-->,------_.•_-.--_-'-.----.~.__--.'.-:".'::.......-.,."._j ( ! \ #3 24 varied, original or banal, neat or smeary. The qualities that playa part in the total impression are interpreted just like the correspond- ing qualities in handwriting. Becker'? described the scribble of a boy of four and a half years (fig. #3). He would begin by bordering the sheet with a neatly drawn wavy line. Then he would suddenly pounce on the paper, concentrating heavy lines in a patch. His energetic strokes cut deep into the paper; his movements were vigorous but controlled. Thus his first step was to outline or delimit his field of activity; then he would act impulsively, at the same time concentrating his energy. Becker relates that he manifested a similar action pat- tern when he became an adult. His sister, at the age of five and a half, would spread strokes all over the sheet (fig. #4). These scat- tered fine strokes were not combined into any definite pattern. This child grew up into a flighty girl with many talents and interests, which she was not able to integrate or to cultivate. 1----·--·---"·· - --" " t I I #4 25 #5 6> q I -r ~ .' •'~ • 1# • Figures #5 -8 present specimens from the author's own collection that point up striking similarities in the graphic expression of a child and her grandfather. Figure #5 shows the scribble of a girl of four and a half who belonged to a highly intellectual family. Figures #6 and #7 show doodles made by her sixty-year-old grand- father. It is quite unlikely that the child ever saw her grandfather's production; it was made absent-mindedly while he was engaged in a telephone conversation in his office, which the child never en- tered. The resemblance between the child's scribble and the adult's 26 Le.LP:2.t} ~e...'t i.: ~\A.d rLp~5 r lctrd.S "B'tu.)(elles W~~N' VLNe. ~l~ T, ft.e.NZe 'R 0 \"\'\, ~ doodle is apparent in the similar grouping of strokes, in the analo- gous proportions of the large and the small patches, in the simila'r construction of the big patches by means of intersecting straight lines, and in the tendency of both subjects to use black dots. That this resemblance is due neither to chance nor to imitation becomes clear in subsequent scribbles produced by the child (fig. #8). They consist of intersecting strokes (spec. a) eventually de- veloped into triangles emphasized by dots (spec. b), or integrated into complicated, flower-like patterns (spec. c). These configura- (b) 27 tions show a high degree of mental development in relation to the girl's age level, for, according to Arnold Gesell,43a child usually cannot even copy a triangle until it reaches the age of six. Hence ability at the age of four and a half to construct a triangle spon- taneously and to mark its angles with dots represents an early manifestation of abstractive and logical capacity. This suggests that a child's scribbles may foreshadow special mental traits that will be characteristic of the fully developed personality. At about the age of five, scribbling is generally abandoned in favor of drawing. Having discovered the world around him, the child begins to draw the objects he sees. lie shows greatest interest in drawing a man, and, as Karen Machover?" has pointed out, he assimilates his body image into his drawing. In his scribbling and his drawing, the child creates and con- sistently uses his individual movement pattern. In learning to write, however, he must temporarily suppress his spontaneity. He is obliged to adapt himself to a symmetry and rhythm that are not his own. This means a repression, and the urge thus thwarted seeks another avenue of release. Without realizing why, the child will underline or adorn letters and words that are emotionally mean- ingful for him. This stressing is to be interpreted as a regression to an earlier mode of behavior. Breaking through the constraints of acquired, conventional symbols, primitive "signs" and images go down on the paper, or scrawls and curlicues serve to revive the function of scribbling as an outlet for emotion. We know that habits of expression formed in early childhood may persist into adult life, revealing themselves in "symbolic ges- tures." This is evidence, as Allport has pointed out, that adult expression is not free of its early ties." The finding applies also to graphic expression. We have all seen signatures characterized by odd line elaborations, especially notable because of the contrasting simplicity of the writer's ordinary script. Such signatures seem strikingly to recall the scribble patterns of childhood. How the urge to playful movement that is expressed in scribbles may persist into adulthood, even In the case of very mature and 28 highly cultivated individuals, is shown in the two signatures re- produced in figures #9 and #10. These are the autographs of two men of high professional standing. A more detailed discussion of the signature as such appears in chapter XVI. #10 THE RIDDLE OF THE DOODLE It is not only in the flourish on a signature that the adult seeks unconscious release by reverting to the scribbling impulse of child- hood (fig. #11). Another outlet of this kind is doodling-the scrawling of nonsense pictures by letting the pencil play while one's attention is elsewhere. However, doodles differ essentially from children's scribbles in that they are not a direct discharge of feeling into movement. Rather, they are symbols, like those of dreams, standing for latent emotional contents or disguised wishes. Doodles have been described by one psychoanalyst as "fugitives of the unconscious." In scribbles, the movement is the salient factor; 29 in doodles, the form is the essence.Doodles may be static construc- tions, such as dots, geometrical figures, simple line patterns, or they may contain animated forms, such as human faces, animal shapes, or enigmatic grotesques. Doodles, like dreams, are not easy to decipher, but it can be done with the help of the doodler him- self. His associations must provide the clue to the emotional ex- periences that underlie the masked and fragmentary evidence of the doodle. In discussing some specimens of doodles, we shall begin with those of the intellectual grandfather mentioned above (figs. #6, 7) . His doodles were made while he was discussing some scientific project that had no relation whatsoever to an overseas plane trip he was planning. In figure #6, which is a later specimen, the pattern has evolved into a design suggesting an early model of a dirigible. In his childhood, this man had been deeply thrilled by the experi- ence of riding in a Montgolfier balloon at a fair. In figure #7, a list of cities appears alongside the doodle pattern. The word "Paris," the name of the city he longed above all others to revisit, is formed and placed in such a way that it plainly takes on a special signifi- cance. His forthcoming trip was to take him to an opposite part of the world, but his long-repressed desire to see Paris again found its unconscious expression in the doodle. It is clear that without the help of relevant data from the subject's life history, the riddle of this doodle could hardly have been solved. There are, however, certain common symbols whose meaning seems so obvious that they can be interpreted without the help of the subject's associations. Among such symbols are squares and other geometrical forms, which seem to indicate ability to handle complexities. Triangles are indicative of a rationalistic bent of mind; dots, of tension and concentration; spiderwebs, of expand- ing associations. Dots marking intersections are seen in the doodles of individuals who think precisely. It is more difficult to ferret out the hidden meaning of such seemingly simple pictures as that in figure #12, which required the use of psychoanalytic method to reveal its significance. The sub- 30 j P # 50 twirled loop in an t (fig. #50), or a lopsided, twisted, or broken stem in a t (fig. #51). Changes in direction induced by inhibition block the nib of the pen as it moves over the paper; the writer's effort to overcome this blockage causes the pen to scratch and spatter ink. When the free flow of the movement is temporarily halted and the hand weighs heavily down on the pen point, a 72 black spot may result. Such spots, called nodules, appear as the graphic expression of emotional disturbance; they may also indi- cate circulatory, menstrual, or other disorders. The bizarre handwriting shown in figure #50 is that of a sensitive, introspective girl whose menstrual periods began at the early age of ten and a half. Her emotional and mental growth lagged behind her precocious physiological development, She was harassed by feelings of obviously sexual origin, which she could neither understand nor fully control. She was attending a convent school, and tried to rise above the conflicts through religious de- votion. The repression of her impulses led to inner tension, guilt feelings, and anxiety. Her handwriting shows elongated, over- shooting, twirled loops (h, l, g), with the upstroke covering the downstroke. \'Vhere the bend of the stem forms the head of the # 51 loop, there is a nodule. These loop anomalies pantomime the constriction and inhibition of the girl's movements, arising from anxiety and defensive passivity. The graphic gesture reveals an attempt to conceal something of which the writer is ashamed. It has been pointed out above that the various graphic peculiari- ties and defects associated with pubertal development are not ab- 13 normal. They are pathological symptoms only when they persist late into or beyond adolescence (figs. #127, #297). WRITING PRESSURE IN ADOLESCENCE The investigation referred to above yielded some rather im- portant observations concerning the variability of writing pressure in adolescence. Pressure phenomena are difficult to judge by eye; hence it was necessary to develop a procedure that would afford a more accurate estimate. It was primarily to meet this need that the graphodyne was devised. Measurements made with the help of this instrument disclosed that as children advance in age, their writing pressure shows a progressive decline, which finally levels off with the onset of puberty. This level is maintained through the adolescent years, except for a short crisis period, in which a remarkable break suddenly occurs. Pressure drops to an un- precedented low; within less than a year, however, it jumps back to the writer's former level. This postpubertal phenomenon occurs abruptly in boys at some point around the seventeenth year. The graph in fig. #52 shows measurements of three adolescents. The disturbance is less pronounced in girls, and seems to set in earlier. # 52 oza. 14 _,I. A Y' 12. \ B 10 )..-_ '\ •l \ I \ 8 c. /.. '\\ , \ I-r, 6 , ,<\:' I \ \ I, ,/ 4 IS 16' 17 Ie YeA" 74 It is particularly to be noted that this extraordinary drop in the intensity of pressure is a unique phenomenon in the writing life of the normal individual. Such a low point is never again reached. It would seem that a lessening of tension occurs at about the time when a generally relaxed behavior pattern replaces the high-strung reactions of puberty. It is logical here to ask what is going on in the writing subject during such a sudden breakdown of pressure. Does it mean a temporary slackening of vital energy, or only a reduction of tension owing to the fact that he has come to a less critical, more relaxed acceptance of life? Could statistical analyses perhaps furnish clues to a correlation between this temporary state and the incidence of nihilistic moods, accidents, or attempts at suicide? Freedom, abandon, and release from tension appear in the script reproduced in figure #53. It is the handwriting of a healthy, extraverted adolescent,. a highschool student, who still lacks nhe balance and control of a fully matured personality. The four handwritings shown in figures #54-#57 are those of other healthy -». # 53 ~L::_L~~ 75 ~-f&-~~~~ ~4>'t- ~ f~ "'I~- ~~~,W~ #54 adolescents, in this case college students. The writer in figure #54 was an alert, clever boy, quick of temper and slightly lacking in maturity. The script of figure #55 was penned by an intellectually mature, soft-spoken, very cautious boy, who was totally unin- terested in athletics. Figure #56 shows the writing of a girl of ~ti~~~~ #55 ~ t- h/~: 7'--4cnt', hr, ~4~, ~. h·/It w sixteen, brought up in a typical Southern milieu; she loves music, and her graphic expression reflects inner harmony and good ad- justment to her environment. The script in figure #57 is that of a girl who was popular in her circle, and interested in boys; she settled conflicts by "smiling pretty." #56 76 w i~ Cl>/of2-5 hhJ1~ i/n ~c;.~ ~~'r~ Je-T)() sf'~~'i ' d() VJ'Is l.V::>fGt; s GRAPHIC INDICES OF BEHAVIOR DISORDERS Figures #58 and #59 present handwritings of emotionally dis- turbed adolescents, The script reproduced in figure #58 shows compulsive features. From the report of a clinical psychologist, it was learned that the subject had developed a system of defense manifested in contractive gestures; he was relinquishing his elbow- room. Anxiety was reducing his initiative, causing him to shrink within himself and to lose interest in the environment. These states of feeling are clearly reflected in his graphic expression. He confines his writing to one third of the page. He jams letters within the words, and his strokes overlie each other, particularly in the n's. His capital I-the representative of the ego (p. 163)- approximates a closed circle. This formation suggests the uni- versally known symbol of a magic circle used to ward off outward evil. Its repetitive-compulsive use stands for a ritualistic gesture ()~~~ ~~~~ # ~~.58 ()~~/~ ~J~~~' , f)~~~~ Q._ A;t ~~~~ 77 (p. 327). In the same way, the space limitation the boy imposes upon himself reflects his introversive shrinking from the outer environment and even from his own inner self." Organic immaturity may also be a factor in adolescent behavior disorders. The boy of seventeen and a half who produced the specimen shown in figure #59 has registered infantilism and a #59 bizarre mannerism designed to help him to save face and to resist anything that would assail his own routine. Although he was of average intelligence, his school record was poor. He was utterly lacking in ambition, his main concern being to find an easy way of getting along andro evade environmental demands. Persisting infantile self-love prevented empathy and emotional growth, de- prived him of the competitiveness and initiative of the normal adolescent, and hindered him in developing normal heterosexual interests. Figures #60-#62 present the handwritings of three juvenile de- linquents." The first boy (fig. #60) committed murder; the second (fig. #61) went to prison for petty larceny, and had also tried his hand at safecracking. The third (fig. #62), a weakling and male prostitute, had run the gamut of asocial behavior. These three specimens, obtained in the course of a penmanship drill in • Courtesy Rose Wolfson, Ph.D. 78 #60 #61 a reformatory school, show the inability of the writers to follow instructions and conform to norms. Their personal impulses and compulsive images intrude upon and break down the conventional . symbols. It does not take too much ideographic imagination to see the ferocious gesture in the lower part of the capital S in figure #60, or the image of a jimmy in figure #61, or the contortions of a spineless body in figure #62. 79 I V PERSONAL STYLE Writing is a learned performance. For all its range of vari- ability, its basic forms are imposed upon the writer. After he ac- quires a degree of manipulative skill, he refashions these forms in his own individual way. They begin to carry an expression of the style that characterizes everything he feels, says, and does. The style is the man, as the saying goes. When can handwriting be deemed to have a style? And how much of this style, once developed, is the writer's own? How much of it is his uniquely contrived mode of expression, and how much of it has been taken over from a model? We know that the advent of puberty gives special impetus to individualization and brings with it a tendency to break away from standard forms. Writing style therefore develops in step with maturation and after ado- lescence tends to become personally distinctive. In writing, there are fundamentally two ways of deviating from the common modeP43-by simplification, or by elaboration (fig. #63). Simplification favors economy of time and motion by dis- ~ #63 ~ f Y SIMPLI FlCATION ELABORATION 80 #64 carding of the unessential (fig. #64). It may go so far as to strip the letter to the skeleton, making it clear-cut and precise, or approaching an extreme of bareness or carelessness. Elaboration adds something to the plain form and garnishes it (fig. #65); the writing then takes on a rich and ample or too ornate or com- plicated characrer.?! Aside from these fundamental ways of varying the model, the writer may encompass a larger or smaller amount of space in shaping his letters; this results correspondingly in ample or in lean .. #65 81 forms. The simple yet ample letters of Alexis Carrel (fig. #66) reflect the way in which this writer's literary style is designed to put in simple terms the difficult and abstruse subject matter with which he deals. Figure #67 reproduces the signature of Robert Koch, pioneer "microbe hunter." His handwriting is lean and almost stripped. #66 #67 THE LINEAR AND THE PICTORIAL PATTERN In looking at handwritings, we can generally discern two types of pattern making-the linear or functional, and the pictorial or spatial. The linear pattern carries the movement of the writ- ing with little concern for form. Straight lines and angles pre- dominate; loops and ovals are extremely lean. The down- and upstrokes inscribe a simple pattern, so~etimes almost like the tracing in a cardiogram (figs. #68, #284). The pictorial pattern, on the other hand, allows for the play of forms (figs. #69, #286). Generally, simplification and lean letters associate with the linear pattern, while elaborate and ample shapes consort with the pic- torial pattern. This leads to the question as to which type of person produces the one or the other kind of writing pattern. Studies of psychological types confirm the observation that the linear or graphlike pattern marks the motor-minded person, who 82 =: c:::CfI) - )--fa.- u- jk~Iw:.~· Q; ~) ~ CL Au.,le_ I C4L,'r/--' #69 is moved less by visual than by kinesthetic experiences. Such in- dividuals react to the "inner rhythm" of structure and process. They tend to abstract thinking, and have a preference for non- objective modes of expression. The pictorial pattern is associated with the visual-minded per- son, who perceives the world predominantly through the medium of form. His mental processes tend to produce concrete images supported by what is known as photographic memory. This type of individual is likely to be dependent upon the stimulation of visible. form, and will surround himself with pictures and art #70 objects. In. his handwriting, there is definite emphasis on the design of letters, tending often to picture-like elaboration. Another finding is that individuals who ornament their hand- writing have a liking for the "trimmings" of life. They are at- tracted by embellishments, by showy, pretentious things. Some carry elaboration of details to such a point that the core of the letter form is smothered or lost (fig. #70). There are people for 83 v.:hom there is no cake without 0 0 0 his writing with adornment dlclnhgosuch a person will clutter 0 rs, an t e superfl it f d comp 1exity and confusion (fis- #71), ui Y 0 etail creates ~~(1t-~~~ ~\~~ ~ cJl~~-~~~ #71 FI,gHuere w#h7o2 lrivepesrodsuimceply and Pfur posefully wrr'tes a simple hand biiography of Alvin Johsnspoart 0 aid' manuscript page of the auto- ' n, preSl ent, emeritus of the New S h I #72 c 00 84 for Social Research. On the other hand, simplification down to the naked core reveals a dry, ascetic nature (fig. #64). Oversimplifica- tion, carried to the point of omitting essentials, shows a fanatic focusing of attention upon impersonal interests, to the exclusion of everything else. An example in point is the signature of Joseph Goebbels (fig. #73) ; here the letters r, 0, e, and s are reduced to #73 vertical strokes, and upper loops are entirely discarded-all this revealing extreme tension and stubbornness of conviction. An illegible, heedless script may be the expression of a careless or sloppy person, or of one to whom life means nothing. Figure #74 shows the handwriting of a young man who, although en- dowed with a vigorous body and a good mind, gives little concern o D ..... #74 to his profession, and cares even less about his personal safety. He never becomes "serious" about girls. A reckless driver, he per- sistently flirts with death. This small, lax handwriting, with its half-completed forms, in association with the well-known devil- may-care attitudes of the writer, may be connected with a disinte- gration of personality and depressive moods. Elaboration or simplification, ampleness or leanness, and linear or spatial patterning are basic criteria of graphic expression. It is necessary to ascertain whether the resort to the one or the other 85 is genuine or artificial. There are no qualities so highly rated by graphologists as naturalness and unpretentiousness in writing. THE SPONTANEOUS AND THE ARTIFICIAL HAND A formally stylized hand, regardless of its possible artistic appeal, is deficient in those aspects of individual expression which for the graphologist supply the key to personality. An artificial style may stem either from a desire to devise an aesthetic or sophisticated form of self-representation, or from an effort to imitate the handwriting pattern of some person of importance. Thus it may stand simply for a pretense. It may be, on the other hand, a mask used to cover up the natural mode of expression. The use of some impersonal, socially sanctioned pattern may be- come so fixed that it is difficult to determine whether the lack of spontaneity is due to formalistic emulation or to an attempt at disguise. We find artificial handwritings among victims of educational systems designed to conform personality to rigid molds: such scripts are impersonal and mechanical. A stilted formal style was developed and taught for many years in various church schools and military academies under the old Austro-Hungarian empire and in Germany (fig. #75). Crepieux-jarnin coined the term #75 "Sacre Coeur handwriting'F'' to denote a certain mannered, angular style of feminine handwriting taught in French convent schools (fig. #76). A similar artificial style of writing taught in "ladies' seminaries" in this country was derived, according to Os- born.!" from a pattern once favored in Great Britain and also used by many women in Canada. Although it was not taught in public schools in the United States, thousands of women imitated 86 #76 it, consciously or unconsciously, because it was considered fashion- able. In Europe especially a style of this kind, labeled "aristocratic," has long been distinctively the "society hand." Apparently there are people all over the world who try to possess themselves of a writing pattern that is believed to be the hallmark of a social class higher than their own. But the attempt to acquire a style that is not one's own invariably results in a lifeless combination of out- lines that lacks the distinctive elan of a natural hand. Such arti- facts do not mislead the graphologist, for the real features of the writer always show through the mask (fig. #77). "/-LL'1l-9S "~/....eu_Ld- L.I. 1<0 'fo .~ ~ \1 ~Ld_~~ • #77 There are few personalities strong enough to maintain a style of life peculiar to themselves alone. Most persons feel secure only when they are following -a general trend in attitudes and man- ners, and wearing the styles of hats and neckties that all others wear. To break away from the pattern of one's group, to be somewhat different, to follow one's own bent, to write one's own hand-this calls for the courage of an independent mind and some creative potential, i.e., originality. At the same time, a per- sonal style may grow out of an interplay of imitative and creative forces. These interact to build up special expressive attitudes that, taken together, we call personal style. 87 (Courtesy of Wildenstein & Co., New York) 88 - /: ",.,., .,/;-; '"~,_.." . ~., • .", -II' ~ ,- ~~ .,,~ • /I.' ,~~~I , ~~ ", ~ ...-.~ II _ I, _ 1''' / .•. '" , I ' 4'• ~ Zf •'.1 ." .. "" " .. 89 - CONSISTENCY IN PERSONAL STYLE It is a most impressive observation that the same personal style appears consistently in all the aspects of an individual's activity-the manner of expression that is seen in his handwriting is found likewise in his speech, his gestures and his gait, his thoughts and his creative work." In a study entitled Handschrift und Zeichnung, Max Seeliger reproduces side by side the hand- writings and the drawings of many of the great artists of all times, and shows how the art product and the script are in each case consistent in style of expression.l'" One of the most significant demonstrations of this phenomenon of consistency in personal style was carried out by Arnheim.i Specimens of the handwritings of Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Raphael, bearing no identification, were submitted to a group of judges who knew the works of these artists but had never seen their script. The subjects were asked to match the handwritings to the personalities they belonged to. Their pairings turned out correct to the extent of about 84 per cent, as against the statistical expectancy of 33 per cent. Plate I and II similarly demonstrate the relationship between script and art product. Plate I shows side by side a detail from the painting Poplars at Giverny by the French impressionist Claude Monet, and his writing. The technique of his unconnected, loose brushstrokes corresponds strikingly with his disjointed, "impres- sionistic" script. Plate II juxtaposes the handwriting of a con- temporary sculptor, Jacques Lipchitz, with one of his characteristic sculptures. The same type of curves are evident in both, in striking fashion. , INFLUENCES OF TIME AND PLACE It is a truism that no matter how independent or individualistic a man may be, he is marked by his epoch, by the collective culture of his time and place. As we turn from one historical period to 90 (Courtesy of Curt Valentin Gallery, New York) 91 another, we see how personal styles are conformed to prevailing cultural patterns. For instance, the contrast between the Ro- manesque and the Renaissance spirit is exemplified in the difference between the handwriting of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa (fig. #78) and that of Ludovico Ariosto (fig. #79). )Inl)}~\~R\~~)~\~,~~\\\lI\\~~tit #78 In addition to the broad influence of the cultural epoch, there are other general factors that make for stylistic qualities. Just as a national flavor marks gait and voice, speech and gesture among the people of a given nation, so national characteristics appear also in writing style. The differences between the emotional expressive- ness of Latins, the rigid, disciplined behavior of Germans, and the traditional restraint of Englishmen, are universally recognized. We find corroboration of these differences in examining the school copybooks of the respective nations or ethnic groups. The systems of writing taught in France, Italy, and Spain, for example, as well as in Great Britain and the United States, are based upon rounded letter shapes and curved connections. Pref- erence is given to rightward slant, sweeping strokes, and extended 92 t bars, all of which are indicative of a free outflow of emotional expression. In Germany until quite recently an angular style pre- vailed in the teaching of writing. This style demands a strictly regulated way of writing, with rigid upstrokes and downstrokes meeting in angles (fig. #181). This necessitates an abrupt stop at the point of the angle, which requires precision and control. The difference between the two types of writing action is best appreciated in actually carrying out the movements of each. Thus we shall easily experience the contrast between the free sweep of the one and the goose-step motion of the other. The difference is well illustrated in the handwritings of two men of similar occupation representing respectively the divergent national backgrounds here under discussion. Figure #80 represents the handwriting of Ferruccio Busoni, the pianist-composer, who #81 94 #82 was of Italian extraction, and figure #81 that of his contemporary, Max Reger, a German-born composer and conductor; both speci- mens are written in German. Figure #82 shows the handwriting of the French dramatist and actor, Sacha Guitry. A contrast to ~., """"-_4 -'_.,~ , #83 these three specimens is offered in the handwriting of a British officer (fig. #83). This script mirrors self-assurance and the tradi- tional Anglo-Saxon restraint; it shows unmistakably the socially ingrained control of gesture that is such an essential feature of the behavior pattern of an Englishman. THE AMERICAN HAND Although the people of the United States and of Great Britain communicate in the same language, it may be asked whether there 95 is a difference between their respective handwritings. The answer is that the cultural patterns of the two countries are so unlike that they result in different styles of life and thereby also in different expressive patterns.v'? The first observation that results from examination of a large number of American handwritings is that they show no con- sistent common style. Possibly this is due to the mixture of trends that frequently subsists in personal life in America. Margaret Mead'" points out that in the lives 'of the majority of Americans two contrasting patterns are operative-the one to which they are bred at home, and the one they acquire at school and in the out- side world. In some cases, the contrast springs from a juxtaposition of cultures-American ways side by side with Polish, Italian, Irish, or other racial or parochial mores. However, the explanation is to be sought not only in the effects of this composite cultural orientation, but in the influences of regional and socio-economic factors as well. Unevenness in handwriting style is especially marked when the writer has received his primary training in pen- manship abroad, on the basis of a different language and a different type of schooling, or when he has been obliged, at an adult age, to adapt his hand to an American system such as Palmer writing or printscript.I'" In European countries students are compelled to accept one standard way of writing. In the United States, however, a greater degree of freedom and diversity prevails, and various writing systems are in use. Americans, unlike Europeans, are even per- mitted to write with either hand. Yet, even though there are no rigid traditions compelling Americans to adopt a standard writing pattern, the motive of group emulation or imitation tends to make them write more or less alike. In the same way that conformist patterns operate in consumer, college, and political behavior, so do they put their seal on handwriting. Hence, while American writing is informal, it is not very individualistic. And Europeans, curiously enough, while they begin with uniform standards, tend in greater degree toward individualization. 96 The question as to what distinguishes American handwriting might be answered thus: We can discover what is truly American by studying what is English, French, Italian, German, etc. In this way we shall find' out what is not American, and the dif- ferences will become apparent: We shall see that American hand- writings do have distinctive characteristics, and shall be able to define certain features and an over-all pattern that anybody will recognize as American. Figures #84 and #85 will serve excellently to illustrate the relevant points. To European eyes, these specimens would look like the scripts of young persons; actually, they were penned by men in their late thirties, each highly trained in his profession. These handwritings are free of the self-conscious checks and balances that characterize British scripts produced by individuals of com- parable education. Here we have unrestrained movement and uninhibited use of space. This reflects a conspicuously American outlook-a sense of living in an unlimited environment, a world in which there is room to move freely and be oneself. The con- ventional letter shapes point to relative lack of sophistication. 97 It is even more difficult to single out a salient type or types in the handwritings of American women. Among professional women of high achievement we find scripts that at first glance appear quite unassuming or conventional, though nearer inspection dis- closes the superior traits that give the clue to the success of the #86 writers (fig. #86). Others seem to strive for a free, unrestrained, and individual hand, though the effect is often merely pre- tentious (fig. #87). #87 7~ ~ f-: IUU hrk - t/L(J / 98 Figure #88 presents what might be called a type example of a "nice" feminine American hand. It is that of a very young college girl, an excellent student who likes to have her own way, and this way seems to be a very straight and efficient one. Although the letter shapes conform to the Palmer system, she has managed to strip away all the accessories that hamper speed and fluency. The slender, rounded forms, good spacing, and rhythmic articula- tion within the writing line, make for an impression of clarity and balance. On the other hand, closer scrutiny shows that al- though the spaces between the letters are large, the letter forms themselves are narrow: thus a contradiction appears, because the wide interspaces indicate free self-assertion, while the narrowness of the letters implies caution and restraint (p. 157). This very combination, however, highlights the make-up of that type of American girl who displays initiative and effectiveness in her out- ward activities, but is inhibited in emotional expression. PROFESSIONAL AND VOCATIONAL PATTERNS Another influence bearing upon handwritings is that of the patterns prevailing in professional and vocational groups. For in- stance, a bookkeeper's writing has to be especially neat, small, and distinct. The conditions of his profession impose a prescribed and 99 ~~~~! :l'-- ~ ~ ~ t?-?-.c ..1."'7 ~ tJZ ~.e-- n~. tL.. .;.r~utt ....,~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ....-: ......... -.-L~. ./- - -" - - "1,... ~ •• ~ ~ .,";0, I «~ #..' __._~ )/'~;._ ~ h.,u.d ... ,...-aL. ~ ~ ---;. "t., .4//~ ...A£; ~ - ~ -v- ~ u...,~-tb J~. #89 very conscious mode of dealing with the shapes of letters and numerals. However, the equally precise and exceedingly small handwritings of mathematicians and physicists present an entirely different picture. Their scripts, though essentially simple, are usually highly individualized (fig. #89). 1U1h. ~ tl frd! ~tJf1Ih H- .ft!JtrJt!4 tiL ~fWpmxL tt!t !I - ~~~~~~tIxp fJt!l1Jttmm(z1.~) mmdt!t 7~ 'Tlt:/1! 11~ it. t'rt& 1JI{JI~dIL #90 100 Where the professional or vocational pursuit becomes a domi- nant life interest, this absorption may impress itself upon the graphic pattern of the devotee (p. 318). Figure #90 shows the handwriting of a professor of archaeology who spent fifty years of his life studying ancient inscriptions carved in stone. His script suggests an archaeological. relic; it might have been produced with a chisel rather than with a fountain pen. Figure #91 reproduces the handwriting of an eminent scholar of Oriental languages. The homogeneous expression conceals the fact that this specimen is actually written in two languages and represents two different writing systems. The upper part is in German, though rounded letter forms are used; the lower part is in Arabic. It is the unifying personal style of the writer that at first glance holds our attention, so that the differences' in character between the two passages are realized only upon closer inspection. #91 101 ." ....ri."'.... ., CDa;;;. //7;) #92 102 The extraordinary script shown in figure #92 is a supreme example of a handwriting in which all personal gesture is fused in the motifs of the art upon which the creative imagination of the writer is concentrated. It is the hand of a famous Russian choreographer. In this unique stylization, we have a writing move- ment that actually schematizes the pattern configurations of a ballet. The essence of this script is form. In contrast to this, figure #93 presents a dancer's handwriting that acts out the living move- ment of the ballet. This is the signature of Anna Pavlova, who brought fixed choreographic forms to life in an unforgettable personal expression. The same creative personal quality appears in the writing style. The intense concentration of the start, the bold attack, the perfect equilibrium of form and movement, and the artistic unity of the configuration, reveal the body dynamics that determined both the dancing style and the graphic projection. In this hand we have a notable example of consistency of personal style in the different expressive movements of an individual. -#9-3- • 103 PART TWO Analysis and Interpretation of Handwriting v .) THE STUDENTSHIP Up to this point we have been dealing with the phenomenon of handwriting in its successive developmental stages. Before entering upon a detailed survey of the various features of hand- writing, it may be well to consider the endowment and training needed by the man or woman who undertakes to use the grapho- logical technique in the study of personality. The practice of graphology relies 'on principles and general ex- periences that are an integral part of psychology; it also avails itself of insights gained through clinical and psychoanalytic approaches and through biosocial studies. To appreciate the con- tributions in all these fields, and to integrate them in a discipline of his own, the graphologist must have, by way of general equip- ment, the gift of empathy-the capacity for identifying oneself with others-as well as a specific grounding in psychology. This implies something more than having read about psychodynamics and using the complex terminology of the advanced psychological sciences without real orientation and understanding. Hence a student should be encouraged to specialize in handwriting re- search only after he has had some years of graduate study in general and abnormal psychology, education, or social work. The special scope of graphology also necessitates, as part of a balanced preparation, some knowledge of physiological psychology, particularly an adequate comprehension of the neuromuscular' mechanisms underlying the act of writing. It must be stressed that writing is no subordinate, peripherally conditioned activity, but a complex integration of processes directed by the most highly 107 developed brain centers.!'? In the words of Preyer, one of the pio- neers of scientific graphology, "handwriting is brain writing."126 It is easy to understand that handwriting interpretation must rest upon knowledge of human individuals in both their biological and their psychological make-up, seen against the background of the social and cultural milieus in which they have their being. A qualified graphologist, therefore, is a well-rounded individual, acquainted with all strata of existence and aware of the full sweep of life. His educational orientation must be as broad as possible, to assure understanding of a wide range of people. It is an unfortunate fact that graphology does not yet have in the United States the backing that it has in the European tradi- tion, and that this country offers relatively little opportunity either for introductory study or for advanced work in this field. It is only within recent years that some progressive colleges have taken the pioneer step of including courses in graphology in their curricula. Until quite lately, besides, few standard books on the subject had been published in English. It is therefore not sur- prising that most of the practitioners of graphology in this country have been forced to acquire such training and experience as they have mostly through self-directed effort. Nevertheless, many of these autodidacts feel quite confident of their ability to "read character from handwriting," for all their lack of formal graphological training and of the nec;essary prepa- ration in psychology. They rely on two assets-intuition and "experience," i.e., certain broad assumptions built upon highly generalized precedents. INTUITIVE PERCEPTION By concentrating on handwritings, one can develop the natural faculty, possessed in some measure by every person, for under- standing graphic expression. One can also refine intuitive sensitive- ness to such a degree that one may hit upon disclosures that go beyond those to be obtained by psychometric and other rigidly 108 controlled and standardized procedures. For some practrtioners of graphology, this intuitive ability suffices for equipment. They feel no need of objective principles by which to check subjective perceptions and to clarify their vague and hit-or-miss impressions. At the best, gross blunders inevitably result. To help to clear up some general misconceptions as to the role and value of intuition in graphology, it may be useful to describe a set of experiments conducted by Herbert Theiss at the Psycho- logical Institute of the University of Berlin.P" Groups of children, as well as of adolescents and adults, were shown an array of handwriting specimens. They were asked to give their impressions of the dominant character traits of the writers-whether they thought the writer in any given instance quick or slow, neat or sloppy, friendly or ill-tempered, etc. Seventy per cent of the judgments hit upon the actual characteristics of the respective writers. Moreover, it appeared that the children of about the age of ten were especially perceptive; in older groups, the judgments became less accurate. In the appraisals made by children of pubertal· age there was a decided drop, as against the younger groups, and the poorest performance was that of the adults. The tentative conclusion was that genuine intuition comes most fully into play in that age period in which logical thinking and critical sense are still dormant. As soon as such intellectual functioning becomes more active-which occurs as a rule after puberty-the free acceptance of intuitive perception tends to be blocked. This experiment also showed the limitations of intuitive response. The judgments were greatly influenced by fluctuations of mood, by feelings of liking or dislike. It became apparent that even the subjects who attained the highest scores in judging the handwritings had days when their empathy did not work, or when they had no luck in "feeling into" a particular handwriting, though they did have empathy in judging some other. It follows from the facts just described that intuitive under- standing of graphic expression is not an unusual but a rather com- mon faculty. However, it is overestimated by most untrained 109 graphologists, who allow it to play a too dominant role. Some of them exploit this ability as a means of impressing their friends; others commercialize their intuitive aptitude, winning reputations as clairvoyants, and securing a popular following among the gullible. EMPIRICAL GENERALIZA nONS The other asset on which the untrained graphologist relies is so-called experience--expediently used rough precedents, by aid of which he gropes for correspondences between the traits of broadly known personality types and the features of the hand- writings they produce. Individual observation; together with the assumptions to be found in certain outdated books, can be used to put together a system of "signs." According to such a system, each isolated graphic trait, each single flourish or hook, is supposed to have a definite meaning, standing invariably for a certain character trait. This harks back to the piecemeal "sign reading" of the early days of graphology. Many of these assumed corre- spondences, as Downey points out, "appear to have little more basis than the sympathetic analogies of homeopathic magic." Modern graphology moreover has established the principle that only those empirical interpretations which accord with sound psychological principles merit recognition. There are, nevertheless, practitioners of graphology whose work is based entirely on a kind of crude empiricism. The data they compile are organized as in an index system, which they use in a mechanical way. An extreme instance of this is when the client is handed a printed chart that bears some heading as: "Outstand- ing traits are checked according to YOUR handwriting." On such a chart, "clusters" of "signs" are numerically keyed to composite little thumbnail analyses designed to make each client feel that the information he is receiving applies uniquely to himself.. The con- tent of these ready-made character readings is about as precise as follows: "Your natural aggressiveness can be your greatest asset IF combined with tact." 110 So much then for the abuses of intuition and for the prop of mechanized experience. Nevertheless, it is necessary to keep in mind that intuitive insight and keen observation, linked with a resultant accumulation of experience, have been the stepping stones of graphology. THE SPECIMEN COLLECTION To acquire preliminary experience, the student of graphology should begin by collecting handwritings. He should have a stock of specimens at hand, in order to be able readily to examine and compare different scripts. At the outset he may make use of all available letters, business documents, signatures, school notebooks, diaries, envelope addresses, etc. It is irrelevant whether the writer of a given specimen is well known to him or not, or whether the hand is that of a celebrity or an unknown. As a collection grows, its specimens must be differentiated and grouped. The scripts should be classified in two' ways. They should be ordered first according to the personal and social character- istics of the writers. There may be as many subdivisions here as the material warrants-c-as by age (differentiating the handwritings of children, adolescents, and adults), educational level, occupa- tion. Other groupings might be made under such headings as vocational interests, special talents, marked behavior patterns, social or emotional maladjustments, states of health, etc. The second major classification of the specimens should be set up according to the graphic characteristics distinguishing one hand- , writing from another, such as size, slant, connective forms, con- spicuous letter shapes, etc. Handling and systematic classification of handwritings will, first of all, sharpen the uninitiated eye. Just as a student of biology on first using a microscope does not perceive in a specimen those differentiating features which he sees clearly after he has had a certain amount of training, so a beginner in graphology needs time to learn to perceive and distinguish significant details. 111 But even the most careful' and thorough study will cover no more than across section of the vast array of possible varieties in handwriting. Each script presents something new, something not previously encountered. The question arises constantly: What produces all this variety? The answer is suggested by Osborn in the following commentary: "It is like the mysterious variation in human personality, which by a slight differentiation in features, proportions, size, individualizes the millions of the human family. Look at the vast crowd, similar and yet all different."!" As he gains in experience, the student will learn to distinguish the more common variables from others more rarely encountered. He must evaluate each for what it is, and avoid accepting such conventional differentiations as "normal" and "abnormal." Rather, he must try to find the answer to the question as to how such a feature developed, and why the given writer uses it more than another, so that it has become characterizing for him. There are no absolute standards of normality. We find a wide range of variability in the individual features of handwriting, but the differences are only a matter of degree. Ultimately, any given graphic feature can be correctly judged only when viewed as part of the intricate architecture of the pattern to which it belongs. 112 ( V I MATERIAL AND PROCEDURE To get a good picture of the facts confronting him in a script, the graphologist must have an original specimen as the material of his analysis. Photostatic copies should never be used. THE MATERIAL It is desirable to have at least two full pages of the subject's writing, together with his signature. Additional samples produced under varying circumstances, as well as an envelope address, are useful, since scrutiny of different specimens of the same hand may safeguard against erroneous judgments arising from the fact that a given specimen may have been conditioned by an atypical writing situation. It is known that self-consciousness, or tension affecting a subject in a test situation, changes the expression and possibly also the mode of writing. Therefore a specimen written especially for the purpose of having it analyzed is not suitable. Furthermore, personality is continually in process of change. Personality grows, matures, develops, and ages. It may also be subjected to experiences so catalytic or so traumatic that their effect is immediately reflected in the handwriting. Figure #94" shows two specimens of the handwriting of a German woman of seventy-two. Specimen a was written when she was admitted to a hospital suffering from hunger edema. Specimen b was produced after she had had medical treatment and--even more important- • Courtesy Herbert Peter. 113 • (a) (b) #94 r;'~~vV/~~~~ ~,k~/N/~~ ~/~~~~A~ after she had received a CARE package bringing her some ade- quate nourishment. The content of a handwriting sample should not be dictated or copied, nor should it consist of any kind of memorized material, such as a slogan or a poem. It must be a spontaneous composition, a genuine expression of the writer's own thought and feeling. Of course there are persons who will pen some high-sounding stuff meant to impress or fool the graphologist, or who attempt to change their style of writing for no other reason than to try to find out whether the graphologist is astute enough to see through their maneuvers. But these tricks do no harm, since they are in- stantly detectable. In order to rule out disturbing influences, the graphologist should train himself not to read, in his first scrutiny, the verbal communication of the writing. His interest should be completely concentrated on the graphic features and what they express, and 114 on the emotional implications of the pattern. These convey things that are not expressed in the actual words and that are partly unknown to the writer himself. Not until after the main con- clusions have been drawn should the text be read. Only then should the graphologist look for "stimulus words" recurring in the writing or made conspicuous through emphasis, misspelling, omis- sion of letters or letter parts, etc. (figs. #13 0-#3 2). Such "slips of the pen," which are induced by unconscious motivations, can be analyzed and interpreted as "trivial errors of everyday life" in the Freudian sense39 (pp. 162-63). Ever since the crucial experiment of Crepieux- Jamin and Biner'" demonstrated that the sex and age of a subject cannot in every case be ascertained from the handwriting, it has been established practice for the graphologist to obtain information on these points before proceeding to analysis (p. 5). We often see handwritings of young persons that look like those of their elders, and vice versa. It will be seen in the course of our discussion later that there are youngsters whose hand- writings quite early show mature features, and others whose writing, up to college age and even later, is immature or infantile. Slow physical development and maturation are frequently a mani- festation of anyone of a number of endocrine dysfunctions in children or adolescents. A stature shorter than the average for a given age may be associated with retarded skeletal hardening in a child suffering from a thyroid or pituitary disorder; tall stature, with incomplete .ossification of the extremities, accompanies in- adequate functioning of the sex glands. In both of these con- ditions, sexual maturation may be retarded, and the somatic infantilism may be associated with a rather infantile type of mentality and emotional behavior, all of which become apparent in the handwriting (fig. #59). Conversely, senescence does not necessarily set in at any fixed age. Symptoms of advanced senescence may be noticed in persons in their late fifties or early sixties, whereas complete physical and mental vigor are not infrequently maintained even after the 115 proverbial landmark of "threescore and ten" has been passed. In- deed, it is a general truth that discrepancies between chronological age and degree of biological and psychological maturity are found in a great number of individuals. There is an impression of youth- fulness about the handwriting of Bernard Baruch at the age of eighty or more (fig. #95). Similarly, no one would guess that figure #96 represents the handwriting of a composer in his thirty- ninth year; this man's physical appearance also belies his actual age. ~~/NUJ~ ~1~~/~,~~cU~dr~ #96 In connection with sex, the term masculine and feminine re- quire further particularization. Medical research has shown that males may vary to a remarkable extent in degree of virility, in 116 ., ~ ~~&J_-L~ ~ ~~l. ¥ r-u- ~ ~'.L-L ~'--t #97 both the biological and the psychological sense. There are men who, though capable of procreation, and stamped with an over-all appearance of maleness, nevertheless have delicate body contours or behavior characteristics corresponding more nearly with femi- nine traits. Similarly, we find women with athletic muscular de- velopment (fig. #97), low-pitched voices or so-called masculine mental traits, whose biological functioning and sex behavior are those of the "normal" female (figs. #97-#99). J- .: #98 117 • #99 The graphologist will also find it useful to have information about the writer's nationalityl!" and occupation, and, in certain cases, his medical history. It is further of help to know the purpose for which the graphological findings are to be used. In conn,ection with personnel placement, for instance, it is important to give special attention to traits that are pertinent to the particular job. In the case of a man who seeks employment as a salesman, for instance, and who therefore is concerned with material success, it is well to establish whether he has the qualities needed to "sell himsel£"-assertiveness, persuasiveness, and gregariousness. In the case of an applicant for a receptionist's job, on the other hand, it is important to judge whether the subject possesses poise, tact, arid good social form. Aspirants to teaching positions must not only have traits that make for effectiveness in interpersonal re- lationships, but must also be capable of stimulating intellectual curiosity. In other cases it will be necessary to center on the subject's emotional make-up and sexual adjustment. But regard- less of the special focus or use of. the analysis, the traits or abilities of a given individual must be viewed and judged in the frame of his total personality. '" 118 THE PROCEDURE Graphological procedure consists of differentiation and interpre- tation of the features presented in the visible material-the graphic specimen-and involves the following. steps: A. Initial contemplation of the writing pattern as a whole, in order to grasp its essential expression. B. Closer scrutiny of the pattern, for the purpose of breaking up the whole into its components, and differentiating the various constituent factors. c. Ordering into groups those indicators, i.e., graphic char- acteristics, which commonly occur together in a syndrome, and in their interrelation predicate a certain kind of per- sonality make-up. D. Interpretation of the graphic characteristics as indicators of personality traits. E. Synthesis, i.e., structuring from the components thus dif- ferentiated and defined an integrated portrait of the living personality. A. THE OVER-ALL IMPRESSION To obtain a first, tentative over-all impression, the handwriting specimen should be held at arm's length or even upside down, so that the content is not readable. In viewing a handwriting as we would a picture, certain sensory impressions arise, as of coarseness !'~:Q~~!~:~ V......;..J l-'~ LA-t 4 # 100 119 (fig. #100) or fineness (fig. #101), flatness (fig. #102) or full- ness (fig. #103), weakness (fig. #102) or strength (fig. #104), pallor (fig. #102) or color (fig. #104), coldness (fig. #101) or # 101 120 #104 warmth (fig. # 104), etc. Simultaneously we are affected by what- ever qualities of balance, rhythm, and harmony we may perceive in the pattern. There is a spontaneous reaction in the realm of feeling, where reason plays no essential part. As we all know, the relation of parts in a well-conceived or ill-conceived unity does not have to be understood in order to be experienced as rhythmic (fig. #105) or lacking in rhythm (figs. #94 a, #100). Such things can be as readily sensed in patterns of handwriting as in those of painting, music, or the dance. Thus a handwriting conveys many things that cannot be put into words. It tells its story partly in the language of movement and partly in the language of imagery. Some of its meanings 121 #'105 become clear in the light of the graphologist's immediate intuitive recognitions. In the close-woven line pattern, he perceives forms boldly in motion-stabbing daggers, whirling lassoes, striking harpoons, clawing fingers, clinging tendrils, spears erected, arrows in flight. To catch the meaning of these animated images, it is necessary to recall man's earliest modes of communication, and to imitate the gesture implied in a given image, so that the ex- pressive forces behind it may work in and through one's own body. An easy way of doing this is to reproduce such an image by actually drawing it oneself, or, even better, by enacting in imagination the gesture it stands for. In this way, the meaning of the image can be experienced through empathy. In figure #106, we can clearly see how the writer acted out his mention of feelings of love by unwittingly drawing a heart, the universal symbol of love. Other instances of this kind appear in figures #136, #146, #339-#42, #362, #363. 122 #106 But at the height of intuitive rapport, one must break off. Intuitive insight and response have a valid and fruitful function in graphological interpretation, though it must be unswervingly borne in mind that the essential requisite in handwriting analysis is observation controlled by accepted objective procedures. Of course objectivity, in relation to both analysis and interpre- tation, requires that the graphologist apply controls not only with respect to the facts actually before him, but also with respect to his own subjective bias. He must realize how considerable a part his particular orientation and specialized interests tend to play in his evaluations-to say nothing of the possible blind spots, rigidities, and defensive rejections that may limit his vision. There- fore the student of graphology should try to divest himself of or carefully to discount such influences. He must also be on guard against the fascination of popular theories and the allure of such oversimplifications as fixed categories of "personality types" and "trait clusters." As far as possible, interpretations should be built only on the evidence of the graphic material, and this evidence should be defined and analyzed clear of the influence of precon- ceptions or ready-made formulas. Prejudgments, even on the basis of such authoritative concepts as the form-level theory of Klages, or of psychoanalytic induction without reference to the subject's 123 personal associations or life history, prove to be mam sources of error in graphological analysis. B. DIFFERENTIA TION OF GRAPHIC INDICES The second step of our approach is the closer scrutiny of the pattern for inspection of its component parts. To discover the structural qualities of the separate graphic features, and ascertain what mechanical factors may have played a part in shaping them, they should be examined first with the naked eye and then with the aid of a magnifying glass. The raw material of the graphic pattern is the stroke.v' The stroke, or ductus, is the path traced by the pen on the paper.F" We must note particularly whether the course of the stroke is continuous or broken, whether it is densely filled with ink or scantily covered. We must unravel the intricate network by which the stroke weaves the pattern: we must follow the trail in the rise and fall, the turning, the overlapping, and the crisscrossing that create the forms." Just as we untwist a knot in order to see how it was made, we follow the path of the pen to ascertain precisely how the pattern came into being.129 Let us observe, for example, in the specimens offered in figures #59, #98, #100, #102, #105, how an 0 is constructed-how it is "tied up" at the top, then linked to the next letter. There are innumerable varia- tions in such simple details, each arising as a result of different body movements, which in turn are activated by different expres- sive impulses. As has been suggested above, part of a thorough and complete study of written forms consists in an actual retracing of them with one's own hand; one does not really see or under- stand a form until one has had the first-hand experience of draw- ing it. In systematically analyzing a handwriting specimen, we must consider it in three aspects- ( 1) movement, i.e., the process, (2) form, i.e., the product, and (3) arrangement, i.e., the spatial dis- position." 124 1. Movement Our basic premise is that the pen stroke or ductus is the visual record of the writing movement. Therefore in studying the quali- ties of the stroke, we examine the patterning with respect to: a) Expansion. We observe whether the movement is extended or limited in its range, with respect to both the vertical and the horizontal dimension. b) Co-ordination. We seek to ascertain whether the flow of movement is controlled or uncertain, smooth or jerky, continuous or interrupted. c) SPeed. \Ve determine whether the movement has been rapid or slow, and whether the pace has been steady or variable. d) Pressure. We note whether the pressure exerted in the movement has been heavy or light, and estimate the degree of tension indicated by the flexible or rigid character of the stroke. e) Direction. Each feature of a script must be examined with respect to leftward and rightward trend of the movement, and its upward and downward reach. /) Rhytbm. The rhythmic quality of the movement derives from the fact that in the sequence of movements that weave the total pattern, certain similar phases recur at more or less regular intervals. Such periodicity is an expression of inner processes; it appears not only in writing but in all the movements of the living organism. The German graphologists refer to this basic phe- nomenon of movement as Ablaufsrhythl1,m;, stressing the point that monotonous or unaccented regularity of movement has no rhythmic quality. 2. Form In observing the forms built up by the strokes, we focus on the following features: a) Letters. We note whether the characters are structured predominantly of curved or rectilinear elements, whether they are simple or elaborate, ample or lean, uniformly or diversely shaped, fluid or rigid in form. 125 b) Connections. We note whether rounded (garland, arcade), angular, or threadlike joinings are used to form the letters and to link them within the words. c) Style. Here judgment turns on whether the expressive picture is natural or stilted, individual or conventional, linear or pictorial in quality. d) Rhythm. The criterion of "form rhythm" (Formrhyth- mus) is applied to the interrelations of the parts, according as they create balance and symmetry within the pattern. Here again, as in the domain of movement, unrelieved uniformity negates rhythm and produces only a stereo typic pattern, while extreme diversity or uneveness of form disintegrates rhythm. 3. Arrangement Under this head we consider the distribution and the propor- tional relations of all the components of the pattern. This includes the relation of' figure and ground, margins, alignment, and word spacing, the zonal proportions within the line (p. 137), and such features as slant of letters, direction of terminal strokes, place- ment of t bars, i dots, etc., in so far as these contribute to the organization of the whole. The structuring of the total pattern produces what is called the "rhythm of distribution" (Verteilungsrhythmus). Klages re- gards rhythm as the most important of all the features of graphic expression, and differentiates three aspects of rhythm, found in the movement, the form, and the arrangement of the writing, as touched upon in the course of this exposition. In carrying out an analysis as outlined under the three head- ings above, the graphologist may avail himself of an additional angle of insight if he bears in mind that of the three basic aspects of writing that we have been considering, movement has a salient importance in that it gives us the leading clue as to what kind of basic substance the personality is composed of. Movement repre- sents an unmediated instant projection from the deepest strata of being; thus the stroke per se is least conditioned by any factor of 126 trainmg or even by conscious awareness (p. 23). The most volitional factor on the other hand is form. The shaping of forms requires conscious attention: it presupposes in the first place the capacity to reproduce a conventional symbol, and in the second place a more or less conscious effort to refashion it from an aesthetic or practical motive.l?' 123Arrangement is the factor that serves to organize the other two. Therefore it shows us the writer's capacity for integrating inner promptings with outer reality. We have thus far been considering these three aspects of writing in isolation from one another, for purposes of analysis. Actually of course they are inseparable and always interactive, and indeed to the layman's eye indistinguishable. Hence it requires specific training and experience to enable us to perceive anyone of them apart from the others, to analyze its indications, and to re- assemble the factors thus defined into a picture of the organic whole. C. ORDERING THE GRAPHIC INDICES INTO SYNDROMES Just as we cannot evaluate any of the major aspects of writing apart from one another, so no other single component or feature of handwriting can be interpreted without reference to all the others, even though for purposes of analysis we likewise set them apart, down to the smallest detail, and view each one technically by itself. No modern graphologist would claim that anyone graphic feature has in itself any fixed meaning. We have by now left far behind us those followers of Michon who compiled a dictionary of isolated "signs" and their supposed meanings. We are aware that it is not enough merely to establish the presence or absence of certain features in a given writing pattern. While some implication of a given single feature may be a guidepost pointing to one possible interpretation or another, this single fea- ture as such is significant only in relation to the group to which it belongs. Certain features may suggest meanings that reinforce the implications of others. Conversely, some features may suggest 127 meanings that conflict with or weaken or neutralize the bearing of others. Therefore each feature must be weighed against all the rest, and against the general expression of the total pattern. We must remember that we are dealing first and last with a whole- a unity or system in which all the parts are subordinate and relative. Obviously the analyst can .make sure that his procedure is accurate at all points only if he systematically sets down his ob- servations in detail. To facilitate such notation, the author has devised a worksheet (p. 129) on which all findings can be entered and organized at the same time, so that group relationships can be visualized as in a graph or chart. The. broad divisions of this worksheet conform with the framework of procedure outlined above, i.e., the systematic scrutiny of the material under the aspects of movement, form, and arrangement. Within each of these major divisions are placed the factors whose indications belong to the given aspect of the analysis. In the spaces allowed for each factor, the examiner may mark the essential qualities of the features pertaining to it. The spaces of the entry column further allow for appropriate differentiations. For in- stance, the examiner's rating can be so placed as to show whether the given quality appears in moderate or marked degree. A separate column at the right permits of noting the predominant feature or features of the script, and such other characteristics as appear relatively salient. Finally, under "Remarks," the analyst may enter additional observation meriting special note or con- tributing to or clarifying his interpretation. This sample work- sheet is of course only a skeleton model; it provides for the essentials of any analysis, but cannot possibly cover the particulars of each and evet;.y possible handwriting. Every graphologist, as his experience broadens, will amplify such an elementary record form and develop a more particularized or more personally adapted sheet for his own routine. Detailed descriptions of the various graphic features and of the qualities to be found in them, together with discussion of the 128 WORKSHEET Name Sex Predominant features * MOVEMENT Ai/Irked Remark! Expamion: in height in width extensive Co-ordination smooch Speed fast Pressure heavy strok.e sharp shaded Tension high stroke rigid Directional trend rightward , .. t8f'11'litJal strokes long Rhythm flowing F 0 R M Style pictorial natural Lesser shapes fluid ,. diverse elaborate ample curved loop, standard C,01meclive JONnI garland thread Rhythm ARRANGEMENT Patterr~, over-all rhy'hm MarginJ: top broad le/' broad ngh' broad Alignm(Jnt: lines parallel straight Word ';"1JtCl'SpaC6J Zonol proportion]- Sian' rightward upright i dots t bar, SIGNATURE CongruefJCe with text Empha.ris on Piacemo1Jt U-upper zone The fact that a given quality is noted in the right- or the left- M--middl.e zone hand listing has no implication of positive or negative evaluation L -lower ZOIUJ possible meanings assignable to them, will be found in succeeding chapters. These expositions will supply the informational equip- ment that enables the graphologist to make his notations. D. INTERPRETATION OF GRAPHIC INDICES Having assembled and ordered his findings regarding the fea- tures of the script, the graphologist must interpret them as expressions of personality, i.e., he must correlate the graphic in- dicators he has found with the personality traits they stand for. The accompanying chart supplies a practical guide for this pur- pose. The parallel columns list on the one side the basic graphic indicators, and on the other the main component factors in the make-up of personality. The arrangement shows the student at a glance how to follow through in working out the meaningful - correlations, feature for feature, between the graphic evidence before him and the various phases of functioning through which personality expresses itself in life situations. Necessarily, an outline of this sort is chiefly orientational. It will serve to point up the interrelations discussed in detail below, chapter for chapter, and to show the application of basic grapho- logical acceptances. The correlations it suggests are grounded upon a large body of empirical findings validated by experimental and statistical data, or supported by analogous experience in various fields of medical and psychological investigation. Beyond this, any mechanical use of such a tool leads to oversimplification. There can be no standard key for reading off personality traits; living .features cannot be sorted out by formula and assigned to a type pattern on anyone plane. It1 cannot be stressed often enough that every personality has its unique expression, and that the essential aim of graphology is to uncover and to describe, in the case of each given handwriting, precisely that unique quality of personal dynamic which arises from the particular constellation of features it presents. 130 ~ ~ en Otl (')0 ci~Cio ~ ~ '"0 bl e.n, t"l1::l 0 0 :>< ~tJ. en en ~ .>...- ae- ~ ::l ~. ~ 0 g '"0;;0- 8 0 ~ 0... 5 5 0 2:':"l r, r; ~ ';1. OJ0 0 o~ :=!. 0 ::l 0~ g ~" r;~. Q~~ ~. g. a- ::l0 .... S ~ ~ §" 0 -3::'-5 ~. ::l ::l 0 >- (b 0- il' ... ~ 0 ~~ ~ ....... :'" 8:l n '"0 '" .... ~ o~· ~ 0... • ::l'" ~~~ "'""~ n .... ::r: >-< sc 8 ~§ ::lt::i... ::t g;:1. 0- 0 ::l . I..>..' ...,., (')0...0... N' ?;. '"0 ~::h §..i. ~ ~~ 8 >-< C1Q 0 -... "'-.. t=: ::l ;':"+ Z0 ~. n :0 ;;,._~ ~~. ::l '< tJ .Q ..:. t:§ ~ :; ..>.- o 8 >-< ~ ~. (') ~~ . g;:s it~ ~~~ - it §""~:§ >....-; "'i' ~ ~~ 0 ~~ ;;;-< ~ So ~ en~ ~ en t"l1 en (l) n >-l t:;:: 8 ::: 0 ..~. >e--: ~ >- 15' '"I1 en0 '" D. 0 0 0 g'"0 '"I10 >-S· O. ('"b g ~ 8'"0 0D'". ~ t=: ~ :=!. ~ ~::l .0...0 0 0 0...,., (l) 0 ::l e-: g '" , 0... r; Otl ::l 0 O. '"1:1::l 0- C1o'Q" e:::l- (b (..l.). 0...... ~'". (l)(b ....0- 'E., .:.:.l. 0 . '",. gI>'. ., 0 0 gort=: ....... ::l . cr r; ~ 00 '" I>';:S. "'g" '< ~ e:- ~ I>' 0 '".0 ::l ... '" s· R t"l1::l0 0 t=: 8 g ::l ~~ '" ~ ~ :r:;l 8 0 ~-..:::_ .;..q.,.. [ ~ nr; 2;:; . '"0 '0" ~ ,.., 0 0 :>< r::: en 0 ':< ~. '"0s· 0 ''"" ';:"+ ~~~ ~~"'. ~i g .... ~.... g- O I>' 0 0 ~ ::l C1Q I>'0 ::l ..'." n0... ~ .... ....'" 0... l; n ~'" . o· :0-;- Z :0 ::l ~~~ ,"l. ,it 0 ::l >-r; 0 0 0... '"1:1 ;:;.~-% 0 t-< g .... D'".'" '<'" $" ~~"~'. ~~ ~ ~ ~~~ ::l ::l >-< .... o· ~ r; ... .'".. ~~ i"t~~ ~~~ ....;::; ~ ~s· ;- 2- ::l n ::r-iJ '" ;:;. ~ ... I:i_ n >-<: g. '" ...... 0...... '" ~~ c,~~~~§~ ~ >Tjr::: n 0 ::l ::l :>< : ~:; )?~ k~' -.. .... >- r; O. '".0... ~ ~ 0: (') 0 " ;t' ~ '-:":l '" :'":2. '~" . ~ a '" ..:. ....;E;..0 0::l C1Q ::l 3 ~ ~"'. E. SYNTHESIS The final step is that of synthesizing the results-the task of constructing, from the separate psychological components, an integrated personality picture. In everyday practice, of course, what is called for in most cases is a simple description of the writer in question, appropriate to the purpose that the analysis is intended to serve. Such a description should be above all else clearly worded and free of ambiguities, and should never be weighted with diagnostic judgments. The graphologist should confine himself to the technicalities of his own science. If his report is sound and well presented, it will be directly usable in the context of any field of personality study-from educational or vocational testing or research to medical or psychiatric clinical work. In any of these connections, diagnostic use of the graphological report is reserved to the specialist in the given field. Particularly where the analysis is to be used by a physician, the graphologist should resist the temptation to elaborate his findings in medical terminology; his co-operation will be more effective, and all the more appreciated, if he confines his 'report to an easily readable, accurate, and objective picture of the personal qualities and be- havior pattern of the subject. On occasion, the graphologist may be called upon to furnish an intensively detailed profile of the subject. This is a more exacting task, presupposing, in addition to the routine qualifica- tions, an advanced interpretative skill, experienced psychological insight, and facility in written formulation. Indeed, in the sense that here the challenge is to portray a personality-to reconstruct the subject's inner and outer worlds and the role he plays in them -graphology, according to Allport and Vernon, is to be regarded as an art.3 THE ETHICS OF THE GRAPHOLOGIST T he graphologist, like the professional worker in any other field, conducts himself according to an established ethical code. 132 For obvious reasons, he must know to whom and for what purpose he is to submit the information derived from his analysis. When the report is intended for the use of a physician, psy- chiatrist, or guidance expert, the personality diagnosis may be frank and complete. It is understood in such relations that the report is submitted, received, and used in a confidential manner. When the graphologist is consulted by the subject directly, he must limit himself to constructive suggestions, giving no in- formation that could lead to harm. It is advisable in such a case not to go beyond verbal discussion of the findings and to keep the report on the subject's own level of understanding. If the graphologist is called upon to supply a person of non- professional standing with an analysis of the handwriting of an- other individual, he must make no revelations that could be misinterpreted or used to the injury of the writer. It is possible in any situation to be honest and informative without making inappropriate disclosures. A graphologist furthermore regards as confidential all data in his possession concerning his clients or other individuals whose handwritings may be submitted to him for examination, just as a doctor refrains from disclosing information about his patients . •• • • • 133 V I I ) SYMBOLISM OF THE WRITING SPACE The ordinary reader sees ill handwriting a message deliberately communicated through the medium of written words. The graph- ologist sees this and more: to him, handwriting embodies also an unintended communication, projected m the graphic pattern through a release of the unconscious. This nonverbal. content is discovered by means of a symbolic concept of the writing field. This field is conceived as a spatial entity, having the three dimensions of height, width, and depth, and the directions of right and left, and up and down. The rep- resentation of the writing field as a space is not, as Pulver points out, merely an expedient intellectual construction; it springs directly from our inner perception. "This spatial notion is some- thing we carry within us; perhaps it has its basis in the archetypal space image of which our outward tridimensionality is only a subsequent projection."!" Hence it provides us with an elementary kind of symbolic or visualized order which becomes clear by following through the graphic phenomena, beginning with the simplest element, the dot. When a writer puts the nib of his pen to the surface of the paper, he produces a dot. As his hand moves on, he produces a line--the record of the course that the pen has traced. The primary meaning of the word "trace" will help us to understand the writing space as symbolizing the field of life--the area of 134 man's activity. For it takes us back to what probably was man's first experience of the line. Looking behind him, he perceived in the snow, or the sand, or the mud, the path he had traversed; looking ahead, his eye traveled toward the point he hoped to reach. If he was dragging something behind him as he went, he had a visible record of this experience-s-a line traced from his starting point to the point where he had stopped. If thereupon he shot an arrow or threw a stone from the spot where he then stood to his next point ofventure, the course of his missile traced again a line-i.e., extended the original line-e-re that goal. With this line, man turned empty space into a field of action. But there was further significance to this experience. It related space to time: the line going backward in space also went back- ward in time-it was the record of the past. To man the spot where he then stood was the present-the point of reference. From here h~ could look forward in the direction in which he proposed to move--i.e., into time to come. In other words, he was shooting his arrow into the future, into the coming field of action. In this way a line may denote both space and time, and relate awareness of space to experience of time. It can mean more: as the line of life it can represent the sequence of events; on another level, it may stand for the route of a train in motion. It may serve to define a margin or to bound an area; it can also be a divider, separating space into parts, or it may act as a bond or link be- tween parts. The line as such is physically one-dimensional, but it can be used to circumscribe part of a plane surface, and in this way to create two-dimensional forms such as the letters of the alphabet. In graphology we refer to the ink or pencil line that forms these letters as the stroke or ductus. Strokes in the vertical direction establish the height of the letters; those in the horizontal direction, their width. As the course of writing proceeds from left to right, the right- ward movement interacts with thrusts in the vertical direction (fig. #199), and in its steady progression links together the up- 135 and downstrokes. This interweaving of the horizontal and vertical elements results in a contrapuntal pattern that has an expression of its own, according to the emphasis the writer gives to the vertical or horizontal strokes. The interplay between the two di- rectional impulses might be regarded as a symbolic expression of the continuous conflict between man's desire to hold his ground on the one hand, and of his urge to progress on the other. The third dimension of the writing field is depth. The depth component is created by the pressure exerted upon the writing surface. This is indicated by furrows impressed in the paper or merely by dark lines whose shading gives the letter forms a bold relief. We tend to perceive letters as bodies having volume: three- dimensional configurations standing upright like a man standing on the ground. This ground is symbolized by the implied base line. For we speak of upright letters, in spite of the fact that they actually lie flat on the plane of the paper. This attests to something that projection theory has long recognized-man's tendency to project the self onto the object that meets his eye, and to invest this object with the tensions and emotional impulses actually operating in himself. In writing, this leads to an identi- fication with the letter form, upon which the writer projects his psychic activity in the guise of images and symbolic gestures.l": 141 In order to make use of our symbolic concept, the writing field, we have first to consider the actual material factors. The sheet of paper on which the writing is produced represents, as we have seen, the writing space. Restricted only by the physical limits of the paper's size, the writer spreads out upon it the sequences of graphic movement. The pattern into which the sequences are integrated appears as a structure arising from the contrast of its dark forms against the light background of the paper space. This pattern, the body of handwriting, is made up of parallel rows consisting of words and intervening spaces, and the words in turn are composed of related letters. The' basis of handwriting analysis is the line of writing, which may be further divided into three zones. 136 THE THREE ZONES The working hypothesis dividing the writing line into three zones has been developed by Pulver and is generally used by most graphologists.V'' This zonal division serves to localize the un- conscious projections of the writer's needs, drives, and cravings, and enables the graphologist to differentiate the meanings involved. The three zones of the writing line--or of any portion thereof, such as a word or letter-are established as follows (fig. #107): MIDDLE ZONE . The letters resting on the base line and having no extensions constitute the middle zone. Formed completely within one zone (n, n, 0, w, etc.), they may be called the unizonal letters. In the middle zone are to be found also the body portions of letters whose extensions reach into one or both of the other zones. Of these, the letters that occupy two zones (b, d, g, etc.) may be called bizonal, and those embracing three zones (the usual long- hand t in English, and similar formations in older German script, or in certain obsolete styles), may be called trizonal. Symbolically, or in terms of projection, the middle zone repre- sents the sphere of actuality-that aspect of personality function which is concerned with conscious adaptation to reality, with social relationships, and with ego expression. UPPER ZONE The upper zone is defined by the stems and loops of such letters as t, t, I, etc.-i.e., the extensions that reach upward beyond the middle zone-and includes the i dots and t bars. For the purposes of interpretation, this zone represents the sphere of abstraction-the realm in which man rises above im- mediate reality, in which interests and aspirations of mind and spirit come into play. Overextension here, i.e., when stems and loops are carried to extremes of height, so that they reach beyond the expectable boundary of the zone-into the stratosphere, so to 137 Le] tWlZrd trend Stratosphere sphere 0/ imagination PASSIVITY Upper Zone sphere 0/ mi-nd and spirit FEMININITY Middle Zone ,ph ere 0/ actuality mE PAST INNER WORLD Lower Zone sphere 0/ biological demands Depth sphere 0/ the wnconscious 138 Rightward treml ...~~·_ .... A71/~ ACTIVITY .....VV.~. ~.·.L.·.·!V.,\,..-.. MASCULINITYbase THE FUTURE .............................................. OUTER WORLD # 107 139 speak-indicates a preponderance of those psychological processes which are not subject to rational control. This graphic trait re- flects the functioning of intuition and imagination-betokening either creativity or preoccupation with dreams and illusions. LOWER ZONE The lower zone is occupied by the loops and stems of such letters as t. g, p, y, etc.-i.e., the extensions that reach downward below the base line. In this zone we find expression of the material demands relating to self-preservation, and of the sexual drive. This area comprises the lower zone proper-representing the relatively more conscious sphere of the "biological imperatives"- and below it a sphere of overextension that relates to the lower zone as the stratosphere relates to the upper. In terms of projective expression, we may call this the depth. In this region we find expression of those powerful forces which function below the threshold of consciousness and seek outlet in sexual phantasies, regressive gestures, and antisocial acts. The scheme of the three zones parallels the common idea of the universe as divided into three spheres-heaven above, earth in the middle, and the nether region below. The same threefold division is applied to the body image when the human form is regarded as composed of the head above, 'the thorax in the middle, and the abdomen below. Metaphysical thinking employs the three divisions of mind, soul, and body. This scheme of triplicity, in- herent in man's thinking and imagining, is an ancient one and seems to function even in the unconscious. Freud, for example, was led to distinguish three aspects of the psyche-superego, ego, and id-in accordance with the same primordial symbolic dis- position. DIRECTION In our topology of the wntmg space, another critical index is the expression of directional trends. Direction, like every other aspect of writing, is to be interpreted in relation to movement, form, and arrangement (p. 124). Direction is manifested in each 140 individual feature of writing, as well as in the resultant whole. It is expressed in the rightward or leftward pull of the movement as it shapes the writing line, in the placement of the writing as a mass, in the slant of the letters, in the swing of the terminal strokes, in the widths of the individual letters, in the location of i dots and t bars, as well as in the placement of the signature on a letter sheet and of the address on an envelope. In other words, every feature of handwriting derives a particular meaning from its location and directional weighting. Thus the criteria of lo- cation and direction will have to be applied to every feature of writing in the detailed discussion given to each in turn in later chapters. HQF"ever, in distinguishing leftward from rightward movement for purposes of analysis and interpretations, it must be borne in mind that writing requires movement in all direc- tions. Certain letters such as the c, the loops of letters like the I, the ovals of letters like the a, are shaped by leftward as well as rightward movement. Thus, specific note should be made only of those strokes whose leftward extension exceeds the limits set by the common letter model. The same applies to the interpreta- tion of rightward trend in the formation of letters. Handwriting, as a function of communication, a tool of social expression, is in itself extraversive. It is as though the writer says: "1 need to tell you about my feelings, thoughts, and plans. See, here I externalize them by writing." Yet this externalization is not simple to interpret. For in addition to the complex symboliza- tion inherent in the three zones, there is a wealth of meaning in direction. The predominance of rightward or leftward trend is a main indicator of the relationship between the world within and the outer world. A predominance of rightward movement, and even more, a decrease of leftward movement, indicates a person predominantly responsive to stimulations from without, i.e., the type regarded as "extravert." Leftward emphasis suggests a person predominantly activated by promptings from within and less susceptible to stimulations coming from without, i.e., the type known as "introvert." A preponderantly leftward trend in the middle zone'is regarded 141 as indicating selfishness.Rightward extensions into the upper zone represent alert mental activity, intellectual ambition, drive, and planning. A leftward trend expressed in the upper zone represents on the other hand an emphasis on the inner life, a tendency toward contemplation or introspection, a preoccupation with one's imagin- ings, or a brooding on memories. Viewed in its broader aspects, directional trend also provides evidence as to fixation: a leftward trend indicates withdrawal or regression, a yearning for the pro- tection of the mother, for the shelter of the womb, while a right- ward trend is a move toward the father's world, toward activity and adventure.P'' PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE Since direction is further interpreted in terms of time, the movement in each letter embodies past, present, and future. Hence we must scrutinize the beginning and the end of each letter in order to note whether the movement by which it was made was a continuous advance toward the right (fig. #108). tPRE.6ENT PMT--- --FUTURE. # 108 A letter is part of a larger unit-the word-and the same test has to be applied to this entity. The word in turn is part of a sentence, and here too the continuity of advance-s-or the lack of it-gives indication as to whether the orientation of the writer is toward the past, the present, or the future. Further, the sentence 142 is part of the continuity of the text as a whole. The line of writing might be regarded as a part of the totality of the page, while the sentence plays an analogous role in the totality of the document. In a letter, for example, this actual whole comprises all of the script mass from beginning to end, i.e., from salutation to signa- ture. Here directional orientation is judged according to the placement of the larger elements as well as the arrangement of the total pattern on the page. As a message, the writing pattern moves from the writer, the "sender," outward into the environment, i.e., away from the body. It may proceed toward the right or toward the left, the body of the writer standing as the median axis. However, writing usually starts at the left and moves toward the right, in the direction of the right-hander's outward reach. Such a statement is often challenged by the question: What determines this convention? Why do Western writing and Sanskrit, which is considered Eastern, proceed from left to right, while Near Eastern writing, such as the Semitic, proceeds from right to left, and Far Eastern, such as the Chinese, from top to bottom? DIRECTION IN ANCIENT WRITING In the various writing systems, the direction of movement was primarily conditioned by the writing technique and the instru- ments used. We may accept the assumption that communication other than oral began with the use of knotted cords,102which was later displaced by the practice of notching, scoring, or scratching crude marks on wood or stone. These graven marks carry us for- ward to another stage of development, i.e., pictorial writing- the use of pictures to stand for actual things or combinations of things (p. 315). The hieroglyphic characters of the ancient Egyp- tians are carved pictures that could be read in either direction. The cartouche of Cleopatra on the Rosetta Stone, for instance, may be read either across or from top to bottom." 143 In China, the first written records were scratched with a knife upon bamboo or wooden tablets. With cultural advance, the scratching technique gave way to the method of tracing characters with a wooden stick or quill and later of painting them with a brush upon a kind of paper. The introduction of a supple tool like the brush led to an evolution from characters formed by simple straight strokes to a pictorial style of writing that eventually produced the existing stock of ideograms (fig. #33 8). These wholly independent units are arranged in columns, beginning on the right-hand side of the page and running from top to bottom. The characters of ancient Greek writing, adopted from the Phoenicians, were originally written from right to left, in the manner of Hebrew writing today. There followed a period of ambivalence, the lines progressing in alternation of direction, like furrows in plowing--one line reading from left to right, the next from right to left, and so on. It seems quite probable that the choice of direction was stabilized when man, instead of carving and scratching, began actually to "write," tracing cha~acters with an implement conducive to fluency and swing. This rightward trend conforms with the orientation of the majority, the right- handed people, and thus became the convention for the Western world. One observation that has thrown some light on the proble- matical origin of the reverse directional trend, the righr-to-Ieft writing, was made by Julius Sebestyen, a, Hungarian anthropolo- gist. In studying the ancient writings-carved on wood--of the Szekely tribe, the earliest Hungarian-speaking inhabitants of Transylvania, he had the good fortune to run across an old shepherd who was one of the very few persons still using the primitive writing mode of his ancestors. Sebestyen observed how the man gripped the wood with his left hand, using his right hand to incise simple grooves arranged in columns running from top to bottom. When the writing was finished, the shepherd turned the wood clockwise, so that the vertical column of char- acters was placed horizontally, to be read from right to left. 144 Sebestyen felt that this explained why the ancient writing had to be read from right to left. " It is not unlikely that the leftward direction of Hebrew writing is a survival similarly connected with the practice of earliest times, i.e., the carving of characters in an up-and-down direc- tion upon a solid object, which then for ease of reading came to be turned. The sacred nature of the early inscriptions discouraged change and acted to hold writing to the traditional direction. THE MYTHOLOGY OF RIGHT AND LEFT It is likely that the predominance of right-handedness among people accounts for the association of might with the right as the side of action. The somatic sensations of handedness are no doubt the source for the manifold symbolic meanings that have become attached to the duality of right and left, and that have found expression in all cultures and in all ages. They are reflected in law and ritual, in magic and superstition, in language and litera- ture; and they are perpetuated not only in folkways but also in modern everyday usages. In the cultural tradition of the Chinese, the mystical opposites yang and yin, which anciently meant merely light and dark, have ultimately come to embrace all the associational aspects of a fundamental polarity. Yang is the male principle, heaven, the creative, the active, the positive, the straight, the undivided, the favorable; yin is the female principle, earth, the receptive, the submissive, the negative, the crooked, the divided, the unfavorable. In early Hindu and Egyptian religious cults, the right side of the body symbolized strength and aggressive action; the left side, feeling and receptivity. The goddess Isis was pictured with a sword in her right hand and a flower in the left. Extant primitive tribes interpret right and left in much the same animistic and symbolic terms: the body of man is conceived of as possessing male char- acteristics on the right side and female characteristics on the left. A Swiss cultural anthropologist, J. J. Bachofen, has described a 145 • most interesting reversal of this symbolism in certain matriarchal societies. The antithesis of right and left extends beyond all physical implications into the domain of moral, social, and religious values as well. In the Old Testament story, King Solomon places his mother in the seat of honor at his right side; and early Christian theologians designated the right side in heaven as the superior sphere, while the left side was given a lower evaluation. The Gospel of Matthew, in explaining how the good are to be separated from the evil on the Day of Judgment, says, "And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left." It is not unnatural that right and left developed similar mean- ings on mundane levels as well, and that these have taken on an endless accretion in popular attitudes no less than in superstitions. To start off on the left foot brings bad luck; a buzzing in the. right ear is a good omen, and a twitch of the right eye is believed to bring praise and money. Thus we find the "honorable" right and the "evil" left becoming the "lucky" right and the "unlucky" left. Just why there has been this consistent disparagement of the left and how some of these connotations have influenced the interpretation of handedness is discussed in greater detail in the author's monograph on handedness. 54 146 ( V I I I EXPANSION OF THE WRITING PATTERN The expansion of the graphic pattern is intimately bound up with the nature and quality of the writer's movements: it will depend upon whether these are expansive or restrained, released or contracted, and whether in the main his tendency in movement is to reach out or pull back. The norm is a movement that main- tains a balance between release and contraction, producing due proportion and even distribution in the writing, with letter forms neither too widely spread nor too narrowly condensed.?' In .examining the expansion of a handwriting, observation is focused on three factors: (a) the relation of the graphic pattern to the writing space; (b) the size of the individual letters; (c) the proportions of the letter parts. In even a superficial scrutiny it becomes apparent that each writer has his own individual way of filling space with forms. One writer treats space with so much freedom that his entire page is scrawled over with a few words. Another treats space with so much economy that his page is crowded with .. small, close, spare script. To appraise size in written characters, it is first of all necessary to establish a standard. Thus we classify single letters in terms of height and width. When the unizonal letters, such as e, i, n, s, etc., are 3 millimeters high, they are regarded as of medium height. When they are.4 millimeters or more in height, they are regarded as tall. When they measure less than 3 millimeters in height, they are judged to be short. 147 In most copybooks the bizonal letter b is twice as high as a unizonal letter, and the same proportion holds for bizonal letters whose extensions fall below the middle zone, such as g. Some of the older writing systems make such looped letters four times as high as unizonal letters. The Spencerian system, for instance (fig. #161), is based on a scale of fifths: the letters occupy three spaces above the base line and two below, the b and the m having a ratio of 3 to 1 in height. In prewar German writing the letters are styled with longer extensions in the upper zone than in the lower. The width of a letter is evaluated in terms of the ratio between its horizontal dimension and its height. When, in such letters as the n, for instance, the distance between the two downstrokes is approximately equal to their height, the letter is of medium width; when this distance is greater than the height of the down- strokes, the letter is broad, and when this distance is less than the height of these strokes, the letter is narrow. The body parts of such letters as a, g, 0, etc., which are usually oval, may be inflated or deflated. Enlarged loops and swelling curves result in fullness and width, flattened loops and curves result in leanness and narrowness. A loop or a capital letter is considered full when the amount of space it takes up is greater than the space given it in the school-model letter. PROPORTIONS The diagram in figure #109 shows how the letters of a word are positioned in the three zones of a writing line. The zonal division also points up the proportional relations of letters and letter parts, in correspondence with the zonal proportions, as follows: (a) The height of the unizonal letters establishes the height of the middle zone; (b) The length of the upper extensions es- tablishes the height of the upper zone; (c) The length of the lower extensions establishes the height of the lower zone. In the frame of the three zones we can correctly appraise the 148 UPPER ZONE MIDDLE: Z.ONE LOWER Z.ONE: #109 relations within the individual letters-whether the letter parts are well placed and in balanced proportion to one another, or whether either the bodies or the extensions take up more or less than their proper share of space. In regard to the upper and the lower zone we must take into account not only the length of the loops and stems but likewise all the other elements appearing in these zones. For instance, i dots and t bars placed high accentuate the upper zone. The same may be said when letter parts belonging to the middle zone protrude into the upper zone. When i dots and t bars are placed low, or when letter parts and terminal strokes fall below their proper places; the writer is emphasizing the lower zone. Excessive height or extremely reduced height in one zone upsets the balance of the whole. Experience supports the finding that persons of limited educa- tion and culture, as well as children, tend to enlarge the unizonal letters. When facility in writing is attained, the proportions change; the stems and loops become longer. With old age, how- ever, they tend to shorten (fig. #110). <;jje «.,- 2J .a.,._ #110 f.t.. Lt-<. ~ ..j l-~~ ~ .e ~ ~ A-.k, 7 'M ~ ~ ~ ~ w.~a......J ~ ~~-t ~~. ~~ ~~4.~. 149 The written character, considered as a geometrical form, is to a large extent measurable. The length of a stroke, the area circum- scribed by straight or curved outlines, the proportional relations of letter parts, are all measurable elements of a script. The author at one time undertook to measure the letters in the handwritings of several thousand school children, and found that by the time a child is twelve years old, the height of his unizonal letters is fairly well established. However, the ratio between upper and lower loops and stems is less stable, the length of lower loops being particularly subject to change. At the puberty stage, these loops increase in size. In certain later life periods, their size may decrease. It was observed, for example, that in the writing of young people under the strain of preparing for their most im- portant examinations, the lower loops became shorter; after the examinations were over, these loops resumed their former lengths. The school standard, by its very nature, is the soundest frame of reference for any evaluation of letter size, since its values be- long to the accepted values of the social order. The degree of ad- herence to or deviation from this standard is a personal gesture that may give clues to the individual's inner. attitude toward size and physical stature. Letter size is also an index of the writer's evaluation of his ego as against the environment. The same kind of expression appears in drawings.?" An individual who considers himself superior to the people around him feels that he tops them in stature. A person who feels weak and dependent sees others as towering above him. These feelings are expressed in the individual's gestures, attitudes, and movements. Thus they are likewise ex- pressed in his handwriting. VERTICAL AND HORIZONTAL EXPANSION The manner in which the writing is spread over the page in- dicates how much living space the writer demands. The vertical expansion (height of letters) reflects the degree to which he strives for stature and prestige. The horizontal expansion (width of 150 letters) shows the amount of elbow room he requires (chart, p. 131). A big, showy hand goes with a need for exhibiting oneself, thereby to impress the world and to win public recognition. The most obvious example of this personality type are theatrical people, politicians, and social celebrities. In the handwriting of Lily Pons (fig. #111), the vertical thrust indicates an awareness of being conspicuously placed, as on a pedestal, the focus of attention and admiration. Figure #112 presents the handwriting of an impressive public figure: natural brilliance, high aspirations, and dynamic # 111 151 ::,,I'! ~~ ~~ "~~",~';'1..x..~ .~ '~ r~ ~ '1' --N~ force show vividly in the wrrnng. Figure #113 reproduces the handwriting of this man's brother, a distinguished ecclesiastic, whose equally brilliant abilities are channeled into spiritual pur- suits. The graphic pattern shows no conspicuous expansion nor dynamic accent. A small handwriting indicates a person who is not concerned with what people think of him (fig. #114). He perceives the ~ ~ ~ en ._;t --"- __c- .,.........w. ~, 'J;- ~ ~~ ~ .......... ~~~~"Q..bc.~ # 114 ~~~,a ....~ ..be- .,..._-:t __._'~, tn ....-.. ~ldl)~~~~~ world as an infinitude in which he plays a finite, modest role. But his feeling of the validity of his part, small though it is, gives him an impersonal strength and a sense of worth. Pope Leo XIII ,; cL::.~co {r I 4 0 I-~~ "<,,, I &J .JC kJ l.V ~L )~~,,~, <'\ ~L of ~'" J (',~L.,._. ~ #172 (a) ~--> {~ CJ(;l ob__Sf-3):f ~~~ '.Q~~ #173 qumes into the early childhood histories of G. B. Shaw, W. M. Thackeray, Maxim Gorki, Hendrik Ibsen, and others. He 'found that each of them had had an unhappy childhood disturbed by an imbalance in the relations of his parents. Mendel maintains further that slant is "the indicator of the writer's position between father and mother, or, more specifically, between male and female leader- ship."lOl There is little basis for such an assumption. Graphologists are agreed merely on the general conclusion that slant, according to its direction and degree, is a gauge of the writer's acceptance of or resistance to environmental influences. SLANT AND HANDEDNESS Studies of the psychological significance of slant have fre- quently left out of account the possible correlation with the physiological factors underlying leftward or rightward orienta- tion. The layman may be startled by the unequivocal assertion that rightward slant is linked with right-handedness, and leftward slant with left-handedness. 54 The fact becomes plain when an in- dividual who has habitually used a rightward slant suffers some lesion that deprives him of the use of his right hand and has to learn to manipulate the pen with his left hand.37 He may acquire 194 sufficient skill to produce a script quite similar to his former hand- writing, but his slant will now be leftward. Saudek demonstrates this change by comparing specimens of the handwriting of Lord Nelson produced respectively before and after he lost his right arm at Trafalgar.P? The great majority of people are right-handed; they use the right hand as -the master hand" in manipulating the objects of their environment, and employ the left hand only as an auxiliary. Moreover, a right-hander has greater strength and facility in all the members of the right side than in those of the left side; the converse holds true for the left-hander.i" J A minority of persons are left-handed. The left is their master hand, with the right hand playing the adjuvant role. For these individuals, writing presents special problems'F and difficulties,117 since their natural way of writing is the reverse of the conven- tional right-handed procedure: this is called "mirror writing," i.e., it can be read like an ordinary script when reflected in a mirror. An excellent example of mirror writing has been left by Leonardo da Vinci, who, though equally adept with either hand, was left-handed. It is interesting to note that he employed a con- ventional right-handed writing for general communication, but resorted to mirror writing in his diary (fig. #174). #174 ~~ . O1~rf1~~ oWO')!t p~o~,f ~f"r-;:I .~1\._?00,-;) ,or'~'~4- ..f ..:n ')~1~~cl~/,f""~ t~1·<..·-rf{ ~YRf'j,oo\'l.l -~IJ-Mlr~ ~~rr1t~""j.."., ;j· ....r ..O<.}-\.... r( 0lh>~.A>1~$;."~~I'~J"fI""',"1\ ).)~ 3 .. ~"11\" ,,~~o~ ~lV(>~7TI}-_~""" •.~~~v~·.~ O~~fj~h~) The fact that mirror writing is the natural mode of the left- hander is well known, and has been experimentally demonstrated by the author.l'' For example, a number of students who were latently left-handed-though they were unaware of it and had always written with the right hand-were asked to write their 195 # 175 names with the left hand in mirror writing, and also upside down. They had never tried this before, yet they did it "right off the bat," and quite successfully (fig. #175). Genuinely right-handed students were unable to produce such writing. But mirror writing is unsuited to the purposes of everyday life. Therefore the left-hander is obliged to produce a script in the expectable right-handed mode. He may do this with either hand. However, it can be shown that even retaining the privilege of using the left hand does not obviate the difficulties of the left- hander constraining himself to the right-handed operational pat- tern.i" Therefore many a left-hander shifts to use of the right hand. Through practice he may achieve a more or less successful adaptation: he may appear to be ambidextrous, using either hand in various activities, or he may make an ostensible shift of handed- ness and function like a right-hander. But whatever he does, there is considerable evidence that his true orientation remains a latent influence.F And against the repressions that his shift en- tails, one of the ways of expressing his unconscious bent is to write with a leftward slant. There are left-handers who appear fully adjusted to the conventions of a right-handed world, even to the rightward slant in writing. In order to achieve this slant, they unconsciously hit upon the device of shifting the paper in a counterclockwise direction-a position markedly different from that used by the right-hander. But if the paper is placed straight in front of the subject instead of obliquely, he will be unable to 196 produce a rightward slant, and his letters will definitely tilt to the left. This was confirmed in the course of the author's study57 of the handwritings of 283 pairs of identical twins. In most of the pairs, it was found, one of the partners wrote with a rightward and the other with a leftward slant. The investigation provided evi- dence that the dissimilarity in the handwritings of identical twins is due to a difference in lateral dominance (p. 234), since in most cases one twin proved to be right-handed and the other left- handed,5s and this graphological finding was verified by clinical examination of 'the subjects. Prior to this research, no explanation of the dissimilarity in the handwritings of twins had been ad- vanced;'!" although the question had been raised by Francis Galton, the founder of the science of human genetics, as far back as 1883.40 e~/r-I e; ~ /~~. I -ILLuuI~ / ~ 1M I 07I ~, t/l~-tau t.u.a V?d a_lja_LwaLu ~ -tLrcyt:lH, f~ii1~ ~ ~4' (a) #176 (b) t4i) ·.a.P-aL, ~I J~ ~cd-.I U ~:~ ~U cvr!-~, vtt£.t- /,~~ / Z /" . J1 • f / I 7' ~' UCUCULu ~ V ~~ ~~ ~ / U~ fLu' 4-r:Pu a+ ? Figure #176 shows specimens produced by two girls who were identical twins. The handwritings look almost exactly alike. How- ever, in a second test the writing page was deliberately placed in the straight position before both of the girls. With this their 197 scripts became quite dissimilar. One twin again w rote with her habitual rightward slant (fig. #177), while the other involuntarily produced an extreme backward slant (fig. #178). In the first test this girl had automatically compensated her leftward trend by turning the paper. When she saw her backward slanted script, she began to cry. Since laterality is a salient factor in conditioning slant, it is obvious that its interpretation involves a variety of complex considerations. Not every graphologist has an opportunity of ascertaining whether a subject is right- or left-handed, but this remains largely a theoretical ·difficulty. In actual practice, the basic principles of graphological interpretation generally prove dependable. The usual reading of a backward slant as an indica- tion of protest against or opposition to the environment (p. 62) applies to the left-hander in perhaps an additional sense: by sticking to his own bent he is protesting against the traditional action pattern imposed on him by the right-handed world.16• 163 A recognition of this attitude is reflected in the terminology of political life. Groups or parties that tend toward the conserva- tion of traditional values and of established ways form "the right"; the opposition-the dissidents, the nonconformists, the iconoclasts-constitute "the left." And the French phrase, prendre l'affaire Ii gauche, means to tackle a matter at the wrong end. #178 198 ( x CONNECTIVE FORMS In cursive writing, words are formed by joining letters to one another. The letters themselves are formed by linking together downstrokes and upstrokes. The tracings by which the joinings are effected are called connective forms.. Graphologically, con- nective forms are classified into four types. These comprise the arcade, the garland, the angle, and the more or less anomalous joining that appears either as a mere thread or as a double curve (fig. #179). #179 The arcade and the garland are rounded, the one being the in- verse of the other. The arcade is shaped like an arch, the garland like an open bowl. Where downstrokes and upstrokes meet di- rectly, we have the angular connective form. The fourth type 199 appears where the linking of down- and upstroke is slurred to a threadlike tracing, or where rounded turns used at both top and bottom produce a double curve. These forms appear both in the shaping of letters and as ligatures between the letters within the word. It is the mode of making joinings that gives the handwriting its distinctive character. The type of connective form chosen to join letters stamps the hand as rounded, angular, or of indefinite character. Used as letter parts, these forms respectively shape the letters: we may have for instance m'« and n's of garland type, of arcade type, or of angular type. The fourth manner of connec- tion produces a letter of indistinct shape (fig. #180). Thus the connective form, as a salient and basically characterizing feature of every handwriting, determines the essential expression of the writing pattern. From the standpoint of interpretation, it is a main indicator of the general make-up of the writer: it discloses both the pattern of his neuromuscular functioning (p. 278) and his psychosocial attitudes (chart, p.o13~1). (~~c_. ""L..-oo-O_..lr) ~~o ... /6./~ a-.d ~ #205 individuals; figure #206 shows the handwriting of a Lesbian, a cruel woman who was a troublesome and vicious schemer and a relentless liar. Figure #207 presents a handwriting in which com- mitment to the arcade is so strong that this form appears even where it conflicts with natural movement in the shaping of a letter, and the connection takes on an exaggerated or decidely conspicuous emphasis. Since arcades result from controlled movements, they tend to be narrower than garlands. Markedly narrow arcades result from restricted movement, denoting inhibition. Arcades in which the downstroke and the upstroke are so close together that they #206 #207 211 #208 ~ -vJ .vJ~- ~~~~~~ 'l~~ r~ ~=, s~C-.. eJV}-kv,,,, : partially conceal each other may reflect a reticent, timorous, or secretive nature, with a concomitant of insincerity (fig. #368 c). This form is often identified as the hypocrite's or sycophant's tracing; some early students of handwriting went so far as to regard it as the mark of the "wolf in sheep's clothing." Figures #208 and #209 both illustrate consistent use of arcades with concealing strokes. The first reproduces the script of a nurse who had had a very unhappy childhood. Her inhibitions led her to leave her husband after three days of marriage, and from then on to consume herself in overwork. She subsequently met another man whom she liked very much, but the only intimacy she per- mitted over a period of years was holding hands. Figure #209 shows the script of a nun whose only slightly concealed strokes suggest that the restrained behavior pattern they express was a social form, a part of her convent garb. #209 212 1-ot.u~ ~~- i, ~ dA-cvm- Glt. #210 The fact that the garland and the arcade are one the inverse of the other takes on special significance in connection with the handwritings of twins who differ in handedness. It has been ob- served that in such a pair the right-handed twin makes garlands, while the left-handed mate makes arcades. Figures #210 and #211 present the handwritings of twin brothers who were both archi- tects-the first being the script of the right-hander, the second that of the left-bander. The latter, in tracing the wavy line re- quested of both subjects as part of the experiment, began by making garlands as his brother was doing, but found it uncom- fortable and in the third trial resumed the connective form to which he was really conditioned. This experiment demonstrates once more how the polarities of right and left, and up and down, help to explain disparate func- tioning in the handwritings of identical twinsY It has been shown \v\VWtM ~~~ tt1- ivJ~lA~~· t~~ S'\}-(t~ ~ I ~ \tar:o k .~~: 213 how the opposite orientations of the right-hander and the left- hander express themselves in a rightward slanted script in the one and a leftward trend in the writing of the other. It should not be surprising therefore to come upon a parallel demonstra- tion in their use of opposite form types in making connections- the one preferring the garland, and the other its inverse, the arcade.58 Where the arcade appears as the first element of the initial letter of a word, while elsewhere in the writing a different con- nective form is used, the variant tracing is regarded as standing for a formal gesture, a salutation or an obeisance (figs. #212, #221). Where the arcade appears as the ending of a word, it con- notes inhibition, since it implies a movement' of retreat replacing the natural outgoing spurt of a final stroke. This pantomine of holding in or withdrawal may be due to embarrassment or de- fensiveness; it may also, however, be evaluated as indicating a suppressive impulse arising from insincerity. THE ANGULAR CONNECTIVE FORM The garland and the arcade permit of a smooth, gliding move- ment with a forward impetus. The angular connective form, however, imposes a check on the continuity of movement-an- abrupt stop and start at each turning point. The writer is obliged to brake the natural flow of his movement, since he can advance at satisfactory speed only by holding his pen firmly while joining the down- and upstrokes. This type of movement implies the same habituation to discipline reflected in the angular writing pattern as a whole (p. 93). The angular formation is characteristic of strong-minded per- sons-those who welcome resistance and are disinclined to yield. This quality of personality is illustrated in the signature of a man who stood his ground in the Prussian ministry of state until he felt it imperative to resign in protest against the growing as- cendancy of Nazi doctrine (fig. #212). The angular connection 214 #212 is found also in the handwriting of individuals who seek to impose their will upon the environment: it is an expression of the egotist (fig. #360), and of the "rugged individualist" or the noncon- formist (fig. #213), and thus it may appear as the mark of the power urge j a classic example of such expression is the handwriting of Bismarck (fig. # 18 3) • The extremely regular angle, producing sharply cut, precise letters, is the choice of engineers and other technologists. This type of angularity can also be found in the scripts of persons occupied with the theoretical aspects of mathematics and the physical sciences. An outstanding example is the handwriting of Albert Einstein, which is notable on the one hand for its commonplace simplicity and on the other for the ingenious details in its upper zone (fig. #214). hI~~,f~h~ ~ #214 1~i;~~. 215 #215 Irregularly formed angles bespeak a misguided attempt to dis- play resolution, i.e., obstinacy or stubbornness (fig. #215). THE THREADLIKE CONNECTIVE FORM The connective form reduced to a threadlike stroke is the ex- pression of an individual who is unsure about the world and most of all unsure about himself. He cannot make up his mind; he shuns the sharp corners of decision or vacillates between con- flicting impulses. Klages interprets a thread formation appearing in the middle of a word as an index of the indecision that char- acterizes hysteria (fig. #216). On the other hand, the threadlike form may result merely from haste or excessive speed. When thought outruns the pen, the movement may be slurred in an effort to keep pace, at the sacrifice of form and articulation (fig. #217). A related form is the anomalous or amorphous tracing in which garland and arcade are combined, producing the double curve (fig. #218) ; this in rapid writing may appear flattened to a thread. #216 ~~~. ~~/~. j~4~~~ 216 J1-_-- G'r--Qk.J--~~ #217c...~ . o._ """"(SU""k '(!J- -~----- ~~~~-z;_~ .... - .. ~ ~·//~~#218 .. A~:a::g out"-o~-wOhrd~' :aspecifi~ceanmg. It;, the ultimate version of the tendency to decrease the letter size toward the end of a word (p. 155). It betokens an intuitive cast of mind-the individual who catches every thought of another, spoken or unspoken, who has the ability to "tune in," and also ability to wriggle out of difficult situations, to hit upon solutions. It is an index of the person who is not likely to commit himself to one course of action. In the illegible signature reproduced in figure #219, all of the middle zone is literally stretched out to a mere scrawled thread, except for the clear tracing of the initial of the given name. A striking feature is the phantom upper zone, in which the t bars and i dots are placed where they belong in relation to the letters that should appear. The signature is that of an urban district politician known for his sinuous dexterity in handling people. The inverse of this form is the threadlike ending ~--------------.---------- #219 217 ~~~ -I!LJ..::. ~ ~ "'(-\ #220 emphasized by sudden heavy pressure. This seems to be an ex- pression of violence, a gesture of assault venting temper or dis- comfort (fig. #220). THE MIXED CONNECTIVE FORM In general, handwritings in which there is not some slight in- consistency in the use of connective forms are rare. Thus, many scripts will show a few angles interspersed among arcades; in others, isolated garlands appear amidst other types of connec- tions. The interpretation of such variations depends, first, upon the manner and frequency of their occurrence, and, second, on whether they result in any weakening of the expressive effect of the predominant connective form. If the occurrence of variants is not frequent, and does not destroy the essential consistency of the writing pattern, it may be positively interpreted, as in figure #221. Here we have a changing movement recorded in a spontaneous writing pattern in which the variation of connective forms does not detract from the unity and clarity of the in- dividual expression, A notable feature is that while the garland predominates, the beginning of a word or letter always takes the arcade form (as in the m), with the predilection for the garland thereupon immediately reasserting itself. The word or letter end- ings invariably show the garland formation. This pattern of variation points to an interaction of conven- tional social motivation and heartiness of approach-the latter attitude taking the lead in interpersonal contacts. The impression is reinforced in the pattern as a whole by the rightward slant, the 218 . #221 rightward tending terminal strokes, the generous spacing, and the unpretentious design of capitals as well as other letters. In terms of personality, such a consistently varied pattern indicates many- sidedness, swift alternation of ideas, and a notable adaptability in using-with speed and economy-the variety of abilities and 219 ideas thus implied. Here we find the constellation of graphic and psychological features that characterizes the user of the garland in no wise impaired by the coincident appearance of the arcade. A similarly definite constellation of features marks the script in which the arcade is dominant. The graphic traits include nar- rowness in the letters, upright or leftward sloping forms, con- trolled or restricted flow of movement, counterclockwise turns in circular formations, and abbreviated (fig. #305) or leftward tending terminal strokes (fig. #306). Occasional garlands appear- ing in this type of script soften the severity of the pattern and its expression of reserve and introversion. If, however, the variant forms are angles, the graphic picture becomes more severe, sug- gesting sharpness and ruggedness in the make-up of the writer. Where we find relative uniformity in the use of connective forms, we may postulate a one-sided personality. Uniformity nuo ~ 0& ~ 0fNA_ ~ ~. ;ro ~ tlu pn1Jt rt:"'""':C'=' et""\ 0 8 INTERRUPTION" AVERA6E PRE5&URE' ~2b!1" I TIME' e,I"'EC. 11YEAR5 jA 1"""> _"""""'c<>o. 0 ftc <=='><"' A 6 INiERRUPTION.:; 8 MONTH" "'IiER"G!: PRE:)5UR.E, 2.32 9"'i TIME:'7.43.5EC I2,YEAR5 4- lNTERRUPT10N~ 10 HOI'lTlie, 222 "Budapest" with ten interruptions, chopping it up into eleven parts.t:' As the child grew older, the interruptions decreased to six or five. At the eighteen-year age level, the interruptions averaged three, not counting those that occur in dotting i's or crossing t's. The advance toward increasingly sequential move- ment is best demonstrated by graphodyne records showing the decrease of interruptions in movement in children's handwritings year by year. The graphodyne tracings in figure #225 show these changes in the handwriting of a boy of better than average skill, by a comparison of his writing performances at the ages of ten and a half, eleven and a half, and twelve and a half respectively. The average adult writer interrupts his movement with each syllable in a word, besides stopping to dot i's and cross t's. This is normal practice and represents a medium degree of connectedness (fig. #226). When words are written by means of a continuous movement without any lifting of the pen, we have a high degree of connectedness (fig. #227). When the words appear markedly chopped up, .we speak of disconnectedness (fig. #228). ~--'d"'""~"'~~MII? #226 ~. ,,_~ .h'l ~~ ~ ~.. u..... -'I &-~~_ #227 51'~ ,...c..--_, ~ 7" ~ .. a 'J -a,. < .., "'J ~~ #228 \u'.\ ~.,._ 233 letters broken by gaps, or cracking to pieces, as it were, point to a peculiar disorganization, to incoherent and damaged expressive function. Such fragmentation may also be indicative of speech impairment: the subject may be found to have difficulty about speaking in coherent sentences, or in finding the right words for what he wants to say, or in articulating them normally. FLUENCY IN SPEECH AND WRITING Though the correlations between speech and writing are self- evident, their implications have not received appropriate attention on the part of either speech therapists or graphologists. It may be assumed that in the act of writing, silent speech is a preliminary to graphic exteriorization. However, there are individuals who can put their thoughts into writing without the mediation of silent speech-i.e., some visual-minded persons report that they have a vision. of the written words prior to conscious verbalization. It may be that this group includes those professional writers whose easy and vivid style is in flagrant contradiction to their uneasy and clumsy speech. However, their speech difficulties will be ap- parent in their handwritings. According to established scientific conceptions, one side of the brain only is involved in the speaking, reading, and writing functions; this side of the brain is called the dominant hemisphere. It is of great importance to realize that the hemisphere that domi- nates in control of these higher functions likewise determines handedness-i.e., the superior dexterity of the one hand as against the other. Paul Broca, who in 1860 discovered the specific func- tional organization of the brain, defined the phenomenon of handedness in these words : "We are right-handed because we are left-brained." The "we" indicates that Broca himself must have been right-handed, since it leaves out of account the individuals who are left-handed because they are right-brained. In view of all this, there should be nothing startling in the postulation that handwriting mirrors speech, and vice versa. Good 234 speakers generally write a fluent and articulated hand-i.e., the continuity and fluency of their writing matches the even flow of their speech. The person who spills out his thoughts in one breath presents a handwriting picture different from that of the in- dividual who ejaculates his words with fumbling hesitation. A shallow, gliding script pattern may denote the filibusterer with his output of empty words, while slurred and dim writing, or fragmentary forms, may express the palsied feebleness of a slurring or defective speech.F DISTURBANCES IN FLOW OF SPEECH AND WRITING Interest in writing disturbances led the author to study the speaking and writing function in persons with speech disorders.t? An examination of several hundred cases gave evidence that stuttering, faulty articulation, and severe defect or loss of speech are accurately reflected in handwriting. The many symptoms of speech defect, ranging from hesitation, or interruption and ob- servable repetition, to spasmlike blockage or dead stops in the flow of speech, are mirrored in corresponding disturbances in the flow of writing146 (figs. #243-48). The anxiety and inhibitions that arise when the speech reflex is not securely established lead necessarily to feelings of social insecurity, emotional maladjustments, and even to neuroses and to psychosomatic disturbances of a secondary nature.l"? All of these personality difficulties accompanying speech disability can be read in the writing pattern of the individual so affected (fig. #35) . An even broader investigation of stutterers was undertaken by the author in 1929 in Berlin.f" in association with Kurt Lewin. To uncover the congruence between verbal and nonverbal ex- pression in such subjects, we studied the general motor behavior of stutterers in varying emotional situations. Our tests covered manual skill, speech, writing, gait, etc. Although we assembled a battery of new devices-for example, moving pictures and 235 speech recordings taken simultaneously, which was quite an in- novation at the time-it became evident that more adequate techniques were needed. This need was met by designing and constructing the special apparatus now known as the graphodyne (p.64). Figure #243 reproduces the graphodyne tracing of the given name Pdl of a Hungarian schoolboy. Each crest of a wave shows the maximum pressure exerted by, the writer in producing one stroke; the portion of the abscissa intersecting a wave indi- cates the time consumed in making the stroke. In his effort to overcome his difficulties in writing (articulating) a word, the boy expended 1220 grams of writing pressure instead of the 300 to 400 grams representing the average effort for his age. The time consumed in tracing the three-letter word (9.05 sec.) is excessive. The movement is interrupted by four blockages. Slowness of movement is evidenced by the stretched-out crests and the four dead stops recorded by the length of the intervals in which the tracing rests on the base line. After a year of psychotherapy and medication, the boy's speech and general motor behavior im- proved; this is demonstrated in his writing by decreased per- formance time (4.62 sec.) and reduced intensity of pressure (760 grams) .56 1,,'10S'" ~ ~ 760 gtY1I -r:A~ #243 236 #244 #245 Figure #244" shows the script of a hemming stutterer who is obliged to make a long stop after the effort of the first letter. A commonly observed pattern of stoppage and break in the tracing of a letter appears in the n shown in enlargement in figure #245. The writer, unable to go on from the point of the break, doubles back and has to repeat the pattern of the blocked movement. Thus the letter looks disintegrated. Spastic movement of this kind may also lead to duplication of letter parts and entire letters (figs. #246", #247"). These graphic gestures picture what occurs when the writer attempts to articulate a word. #246 (a) (b) • Courtesy Dcso Weiss, M.D. 237 J_fi~~~~·· 6100 ~ ..J #247 Many stutterers try to mask their wrinng difficulties, each developing his own style of camouflage. In the script shown in figure #248, the writer, in trying to control his defective move- ment, makes great pauses between words and syllables; the dots before the words register the probing movements he makes in getting a start. The shaping of the last word reflects a spastic moment that led to the marked fragmentation and distortion of the last word, Soba. #248 '~I ~ S~.-.9vl ~~J~a1!ikkAoAm #249 In the handwriting of a thirteen-year-old boy reproduced in figure #249, we see evidence of lowered muscle tonus (p. 278) ; the indices are excessive slowness, slight pressure, feeble and tremulous strokes, and shaky loops. The defective writing in this case dis- closed a general inadequacy of muscle tonus and of neuromuscular co-ordination, affecting not only writing movement but also speech articulation and other functions. In the light of accumu- lated experience, this pointed to an endocrine disorder. Upon the author's advice, a specialist in endocrinology was consulted. His diagnosis established the presence of a dysfunction of the adrenal 238 glands. A course of treatment led to considerable improvement in the somatic condition, which was reflected in an improvement of speech and writing. As a result of the author's research and experimental work with the graphodyne, handwriting analysis came to be widely em- ployed in various countries of Europe as a tool in the diagnosis and therapy of speech disorders.": 38 239 ( X I I SPEED AND PERSONAL PACE Obviously speed in writing, like speed in any other motor func- tion, increases with practice. By a natural and expectable develop- ment, the painstaking, slow, unsure tracing movements of the child evolve to the automatic, sure fluency of the adult. However, no amount of training can make a speed champion out of a slug- gard. The tempo of all the complicated movements an individual learns to perform in a lifetime is set for him by his innate nervous organization. The rate of nerve conduction and the speed of associative processes as well as of motor responses-irrespective of how they are influenced by endocrine, nutritional, or other factors that determine the functional state of the nervous system-all contribute to personal pace. Handwriting analysis offers a unique means for studying per- sonal pace in all its complexities. Its technique enables us not only to distinguish between "quick" and "slow" individuals, but also to probe a little more deeply into the phenomenon of personal tempo. For example, it has helped us to learn something about the variability of the factor of personal speed, and the conditions or influences that may interfere with or modify it. In graphological interpretation, quantitative accomplishment as such-referring to the number of letters or words written within a given space of time-is not important nor very revealing, though early psychologists+? who were not graphologists spent hours in making laboratory measurements, under somewhat artificial con- ditions, of such things as the number of syllables written by a subject per minute, and the number of strokes produced in a 240 split second.P? On the other hand, graphological study has shown that individual speed is variable and changes according to the writing situation. A man writes in one way when seated com- fortably at his own desk and in another when standing at a bank counter. There is a difference in his speed when he is writing at· dictation or copying a text and when he is writing spon- taneously. An individual filling out a job application tends to write as neatly and legibly as he can, usually with conscious slowing down of his habitual pace. Conversely, when one is trying to finish a' piece of writing in a hurry, precision and legibility may be sacrificed in favor of speed. The reasons for fluctuations in individual writing speed are not always as simple as in the situations just indicated. One illustra- tion of the way in which psychic factors may induce such fluctua- tions appears in the results of an experiment undertaken by the author for the purpose of testing writing speed by means of a Hipp chronorneter.i'' In this test about one hundred staff em- ployees and clients of a bank were asked to write a passage of neutral meaning dictated to them from a newspaper, and were instructed to sign their scripts. The time measurements obtained deviated from the anticipated outcome: it was found that the signatures had been written more slowly than the dictated ma- terial. Yet the test subjects, when questioned, did not doubt that they had written their signatures-i.e., familiar material-more rapidly than the dictated text, which was previously unknown material. But the chronometer records showed how erroneous these personal impressions were. The same test Was given to a group composed of high-school students and a number of men employed as attendants and simple clerks at the bank. The second experiment produced a different result: almost all of the subjects showed greater speed in writing their signatures than in writing the dictated text. The explanation is that in the first group, because it consisted of men conditioned by the attitudes of the financial and business world, consciousness of the importance of a signature inhibited spontaneity and put a 241 brake on speed. The second group, not burdened by the impend- ing factor of a feeling of responsibility, wrote their names quite casually and faster than they could write the unfamiliar dictated material. THE DYNAMICS OF PACE The subtler aspects of what constitutes personal pace may be grasped by analogy when we consider the phenomenon of personal modulation of tempo in music or the dance. The performer is always aware that in a given measure there are, for instance, eight measures, with four beats to a measure. But what he does within this time frame, and how he personally animates the given metrical pattern-i.e., his interpretative rhythm-determines the distinction and individuality of the rendering, and the ultimate ~. /k ' c. #250 242 meaning of the musical expression. Writing, like a musical per- formance, shows a certain flow of movement in which stops and starts, retardations and accelerations, fleeting pauses and actual standstills, occur with more or less periodicity. These are indices of pace: they show how the writer's use of time creates the rhythm of the movement and thus of the total writing pattern (figs. #250- 52, #258, #259). #251 #252 243 The graphologist must dig deep to isolate this basic factor of personal pace.129 First, he must ascertain what the habitual tempo of the writer is, and whether under normal circumstances he would produce an accurate and legible script with adequate speed (fig. #253). Next, he must ascertain whether it is precision or speed that tends to be modified or lost when the writer is in a hurry, #254 or unusually tense (fig. #254), or disturbed by interfering fac- tors. J52 He must further determine the subject's capacity fol resistance to interference." In a well-adjusted person, control and concentration usually serve to maintain a steady pace in spite 01 the presence of possible distracting stimuli or feeling disturbance, whereas oversensitive persons will manifest a lesser resistance (fig, #255). Of course there may be interfering stimuli of such fore as to affect the most balanced individual (fig. #94). Another factor that may make for differences here is tempera' ment, i.e., that fundamental factor in the individual's make-iq which determines the speed and intensity of his emotional rel 244 #255 sponses. A person of lively temperament has to apply a greater measure of self-discipline to maintain an evenly flowing writing movement (fig. #250) than a person of phlegmatic disposition (fig. #256). Many writers develop habits of initial adjustment, resorting to a "warming-up" maneuver before launching on the :;a::~/~:~~?7Z?-~ ~~~7 r;.?~ ~~c -Y' ~ tf?~/--~ ~~~ ~~/.vz--:nd #256 245 (aJ #257 actual writing (fig. #257). Some prolong (spec. a) or elaborate the start (spec. b). Others concen tra te their starting effort in a dot (spec. c), or in a springboard stroke (spec. d). There are writers who hedge in making any kind of a beginning, whether on the whole writing or on a capital letter (spec. e) or a new line; but after the initial delay, such a writer usually picks up speed and maintains his pace until he reaches some ending point, where his speed naturally drops. 246 ~~" I ,._; k_,l,.. .., ~ -2-t.,c~ ,-/J.~ "~/.;y,'~.~Aoa.t 4c.<~ ;4t ":t"" _; c-.-' I ~ /t- ,,~ ~...., z:~ ~. I~ £L,'~ *""', I ~ .... /-1., . ,~ ?< .... -c../ 'l ""'-< #258 Ordinarily the pen stops-registering a definite pause-at the completion of a thought or of a logical sequence within the larger whole. It is natural to find interruptions that are almost imper- ceptible-brief pauses to take breath. These are an organic part of the rhythm of the movement (fig. #258). However, their length and periodicity will vary according to the subject's physical condition when writing; the pause may become as prolonged as a sigh, as marked as an asthmatic gasp (p. 237). GRAPHIC INDICES OF SPEED One of the determinants of speed is the nature of the stroke. Freeman and Saudek!" have shown experimentally that less time is needed to trace a long downstroke than a short one, and that it takes more time to form a very small or narrow letter than a large broad one. A straight stroke is by its very nature not only the shortest that can be used to join two points; it is also the most quickly traced. Thus a straight, unbroken tracing reflects a firm, quick movement. By the same token, a wavering or broken trac- ing is recognizable as a slowly executed one. Hence the shaping of angular letter forms, which necessitates an abrupt stop at each turning point (p. 33), is an impediment to speed. Conversely, 247 the swinging motion used in forming curved strokes and rounded letters enables the writer to pick 'up speed as he proceeds. It is for this reason that the curved, swinging stroke has been made the basis of most systems of shorthand, with angular symbols reduced to a minimum. The smoothness of the individual stroke gives the clue as to the spontaneity and speed with which it has been traced.P" The more smoothly and easily a movement is carried out, the less conscious- ness accompanies it; thus the free, unhampered movements of spontaneous writing are relatively rapid, whereas self-conscious, controlled, and hesitant movements are relatively slow.159 #259 A spontaneous, speedy handwriting (fig. #259) usually slants toward the, right; with haste or acceleration of pace for any rea- son, the slope grows more pronounced. Speed tends furthermore to reduce whatever leftward tending strokes the particular pen- manship model may prescribe. It also distorts the i dots; instead of a neat point placed exactly above the letter stem, it may be pulled into the shape of a streak or comma and dragged forward by the momentum of the movement. In slow writing, the i dot is so placed that it appears to be lagging behind (fig. #231). The accompanying tabulation sets forth in contrasted groupmgs the salient indicators of speedy and of slow writing. 248 INDICES of !peedy writing of slow writing GENERAL APPEARANCE General appearance spontaneous, General appearance conventional, natural over-elaborate, or clumsy 2 PATTERN Pattern animated, rhythmic Pattern monotonously regular, or disorganized 3 STROKE Stroke smooth, unbroken, sweeping; Stroke controlled or hesitant, trem- finn, swinging curvatures ulous, broken ot: jerky, retouched or soldered; concealing strokes; jagged or broken curvatures 4 GENERAL DIRECTIONAL TREND General directional trend right- General directional trend leftward; ward; rightward slant; clockwise upright or leftward slant; counter- circular strokes; rightward swing- clockwise circular strokes; abbrevi- ing end strokes; slight initial ated or leftward turning end adjustments, or none; i dots streak- strokes; elaborate initial adjust- like, placed to right of stem or ments; i dots round, placed just linked to next letter; t bars ex- above stem or behind it; t bars tended, placed to right of stem short, crossing stem or placed be- hind it 5 CONNECTIVE FORMS Connective forms predominantly Connective forms predominantly garland or threadlike; good con- arcade or angle; interruptions with- tinuity within words in words 6 LETTERS Letters of medium size; letter Letters very small or very large; shapes streamlined, slurred, or dis- letter shapes narrow or sprawled torted; long stems; long, slim loops, out; short sterns: distended loops; with smoothly turned heads; ends ends of words increasing in size; of words decreasing in size, ab- attention to detail breviated, or illegible; neglect of detail 7 PRESSURE Pressure medium or slight; rhyth- Pressure insufficient Or excessive; mic alternation of thick and thin strokes unmodulated in width- strokes; ovals clear; loops clear thick or thin, pastose or smeary; ovals blotchy; loops blotchy at 8 ALIGNMENT heads Alignment: lines ascending right- Alignment: lines steadily horizontal, ward; left margin widening down- or descending rightward, or un- ward dulating; left margin even or diminishing downward 249 FACTORS AFFECTING SPEED It has been pointed out above that the writing situation, as well as inner states, greatly affect the speed of writing. A happy mood, or a state of elation, releases and accelerates the flow of the' movement, whereas an anxious mood, inner tension, or depression slows down and restrains it. Excessive speed, resulting in a com- plicated, distorted, oversized tracing, without controlled course, is symptomatic of flight of ideas. It is that graphic manifestation to which the diagnosis of hypomania is ordinarily attached (fig. #260). Gross deviation from average speed in the sense of mark- edly slow' pace goes with mental sluggishness. Extreme slowness is the mark of the feebleminded. 53 #260 Relatively constant, regular speed characterizes the well-organ- ized person whose noticing, acting, feeling, and thinking proceed in an integrated fashion!52 and under the dominance of a relatively constant motive pattern-to use the words of Theodore New- cornbe.U'' Such constancy does not preexclude the possibility of fluctuations or changes; these may occur whenever emotions arise. The writing speed becomes irregular when the movement is at the mercy of spontaneous feeling because of insufficient attempt to control and check such affects in the interest of the writing per- forrnance.:" Fluctuations in pace due to emotional influences are' revealed by such graphic indices as the following: occasional acceleration or slowing down, delays, or stops; headlong haste reflected in uncontrolled strokes overshooting their expectable limits, or a gesture of vacillation or a retreating step shown in leftward turning strokes; breaks, overt or disguised in soldered strokes (p. 221) ; scattered dots recognizable as the spoor of probing movements (fig. #248). 250 These are all very significant symptoms that must be noted and explored. They may lead to detection of emotional association or conflicts that distract, fatigue, or confuse the subject and force him to make inappropriate use of his natural endowment of pace. They may also point to the presence of deep-lying conflicts, or bring to light a fear or unwillingness to be frank and open. Thus delays, stops, marked pauses amounting to an unconscious gesture of emphasis, may work just like a lie detector: a word that is insignificant in its literal meaning may show itself to be a stimulus word in that it betrays eagerness, vacillation, or reluctance on the part of the subject in writing it down. The late Hungarian graph- ologist Dezso Balazs had a notable ability in hunting out emotional conflicts on the basis of such indices," #261 Innumerable illustrations of such graphological detective work could be offered. In figure #261, we have a well-connected hand- writing in which, however, notable gaps appear within two of the words. The pauses indicate that the writer was giving concentrated emphasis to these two words, which in themselves are key words in conveying the content of his communication. In the specimen reproduced in figure #262, the writer in referring to his "prob- #262 251 lems" seems to have sought escape in the forward spurt of the e in this word, and then to have dragged himself back to the di- lemma with sufficient control to finish the word. The easygoing, callow expression of the writing as a whole suggests an individual disinclined to face conflict or to solve a problem by himself. This helps to explain why the particular word induced a reaction of distaste. #263 As the record of a situation of emotional crisis, the last signature of Ivar Kreuger (fig. #263), the Swedish financier who ruled the international match industry until his operations were found to be corrupt on a grand scale, is of peculiar interest. The signature is from his farewell note to his secretary. Knowing that within two days his tottering empire would crash, he committed suicide en route from the United States to Sweden. Any graphologist will recognize in the features of this signature a genuinely speedy hand that on this occasion was impeded in its usually free sweep. The writer was almost unable to start instantly. The broken initial letter might give the impression that the pen was sticking for lack of ink. However, the nature of the break (its location in the configuration of the letter, and the probing dots), together with the well-inked tracing of the rest of the signature, refutes this assumption. All this indicates merely re- luctance to go ahead-which becomes completely manifest in the weak and shortened connecting stroke between the initial and the following letter. The narrowness of the a is a further index of inhibition, while its blotchy execution is symptomatic of a failing of energy-a temporary inability to go' on with the task. Similarly, the initial K of the family name-which in Kreuger's usual signature had a clear-cut form-is here blotted and re- 252 touched. For its broad, dark strokes result not from heavy writing pressure, but rather from an inertia that holds the writer fixed in one groove, avoiding in panic the imperative of moving on. Finally he shakes himself free of the emotional blockage, and completes in one sweep what must be done. 253 ( X I I I WRITING PRESSURE Writing pressure is a complex phenomenon. Careful observa- tion and study are required to determine the effect of pressure upon the thickness, darkness, sharpness, and shading of the stroke. At first thought it might appear that the qualities of the stroke depend merely upon the type of pen used-whether the nib is pointed or blunt, stiff or flexible, etc. However, writing pressure, like all other features of handwriting, is basically determined by the personality of the writer, and not by the tool he employs. The writer may produce his script with a pencil, or on different occasions with instruments of differing construction, ranging from a goosequill or stylus to a ballpoint pen. Except for super- ficial differences in the writing that identify the tool rather than the user, the writing is always recognizable as one individual's unique expression. We are accustomed to such recognitions in other fields: for instance, in looking at a drawing and an etching from the hand of Rembrandt, we should hardly take them to be the work of two different artists. Their secondary dissimilarities are due to the difference in the tools used in producing them; but they are clearly seen to be expressions of the same personality. Nonetheless, it is necessary to study the various types of pens, and the kinds of manipulation required in using them. The pen is guided by the thumb and second finger in moving up and down and toward the left or the right. The index finger, resting upon the penholder, presses the point of the pen to the paper. The pen point, or nib, consists of two flanges lying close together. Pressure causes these flanges to separate, permitting of the flow of 254 ink. This flow of ink upon the paper, as the pen is moved along, results in the tracing or stroke, also called the ductus. When the pen is guided over the paper with slight pressure, it produces a fine stroke of uniform width. If greater pressure is exerted, the nib splits more widely apart, causing a greater amount of ink to flow from the pen, and thus producing a broader and darker stroke (fig. #264). Some writers propel the pen over the #264 paper with an easy, rhythmic motion; others move it with meas- ured steadiness; still others shove the pen clumsily along in a heavy, halting way, and some send it forward feebly with a tremulous or shaky motion. The different kinds of movement leave their respective imprints, vividly evident in the variations in the firmness, smoothness, fluency, and other qualities of the stroke. The finger usually applies more pressure in making the downstroke than in making the upstroke (p. 43). This results in variations in line thickness: thick downstrokes alternate with thin upstrokes, while the curved outlines of rounded forms show gradations of thickening and thinning. This effect, which Weknow as shading, is one of the significant indices of writing pressure (figs. #161, #265, #266). The general effect of heavy pressure is to increase the thickness and darkness of the stroke. When the pen is held firmly and close to the nib, so that it is almost perpendicular to the writing sur- face, it causes the nib to scratch the paper, leaving a sharp groove 255 I t.-br).,• #265 #266 on one or both sides of the srrokc." In the specimen shown in figure #267, we have heavy pressure resulting in firm strokes with sharp outlines. The nib marks are baldly visible in the ex- tended t bar of the signature, where some failure of ink supply has left the breadth of the stroke unfilled. Slighter pressure, with a more oblique positioning of the pen, produces a stroke with less definite outlines. It follows that when the pen is grasped farther from the nib and manipulated more loosely, somewhat like a paint brush, the downward pressure is no longer due entirely to the force exerted by the index finger, but mainly to the weight of the hand and the gross movements of the arm. The stroke produced under these conditions is designated as pastose; it is uniform in width, dense 256 #268 with ink, and its outlines are blurred. Examination under a magni- fying glass shows the great difference between a stroke made with heavy pressure and one lightly traced: the former is clear-cut, with sharply incised outlines (figs. #266, #267); the latter is smooth, without incised edges (fig. #268) and commonly has ragged outlines, as in the specimen shown enlarged in figure #269. In order to understand how these pairs of opposites-the thin and the thick stroke, thesharp and the pastose stroke-are pro- duced physically, it is advisable to tryout various types of pens, #269 257 testing their effect and observing how they modify the quality of the stroke. This experiment will show that the character of the stroke depends not so much upon the pen as upon the writer, who has it in his power to mold his stroke according to his desire. It must be borne in mind that in writing the pen functions as an extension of the hand. We can, in-fact, think of the pen as a part of the body, hand and pen moving as a single member. The fingers transmit to the pen the directive impulses and the varia- tions in muscular tension that, according to the nature of the ?'-1r: { ~""'" / -f ~lt ~ r: ,__ I.- c ~ r-1J1.I " fA-- '1-.L- ~- -OJ Ij~::~:r~;;~~ #270 258 writer's nervous organization, occur during the act of wrrtmg. Hence, as each writer has his own way of holding his hand, manipulating the pen, and exerting pressure, and his own rate of speed in moving the pen, the same pen in different hands will pro- duce entirely different strokes (figs. #270;#271). /~,u~:.t·.....u 1.--J~,."J I J..~" ..~ ~ ~ ~ if /4 4,.:~ ~f..,.~Mr-r-'~.~w",'4-'pi.~~ J.,....b..( t../~,;.;d #I- /;;.JI"" k... #".~ ~ .," ~ ~~.A__. jn¥ Ihw-,~~~~~ #271 It goes without saying that each individual chooses the pen that suits his personal requirements, and in his use adapts it to his individual writing habits. As a result a writer often becomes so attached to his own fountain pen that he does not like to write with another, and is reluctant to lend his pen to anyone, knowing that it will be affected by the different manipulation of another hand. Moreover, the writer has an inner image (Leitbild) of the script he aims to create, and this predetermines his performance on the paper; obviously his choice of a pen will be greatly in- fluenced by this ideal image. It may be remarked that the ballpoint pen obviates the significant qualities of the writing stroke, since 259 #272 it does not adapt itself to the subtle play of pressure. This is the reason why the sensitive writer feels frustrated in using it. Furthermore, the individual choice of a paper must be taken into account. Some persons prefer a rough to a smooth paper. The resistance offered by a rough surface invites the finger to supply more force and to exert more pressure; such paper appeals to per- sons whose general tendency is to seek and overcome resistance. Individuals inclined to "take it easy" and to avoid unnecessary friction prefer a smooth-surfaced paper and a pen that "writes by itself," so to speak. It is evident that both pen pressure and the resistance offered by the writing surface are factors influencing the writing speed. Pressure and speed counteract each other. A quickly gliding pen cannot transmit as much pressure as a slowly moving one; heavy pressure, on the other hand, slows down the rate of movement. Thus a person who writes both speedily and with heavy pressure displays considerable vital energy and propulsive power, whereas the combination of low speed and heavy pressure reveals in- sufficient application of energy in driving forward and over- coming resistances. In the script of a writer suffering from per- sistent depression, with loss of physical and mental efficiency (fig. # 194 ), we may note "swallowtails" on the garlands; these are 260 Jev .....Lt... 't~'Uf~ -\...L..\....Q...J..~"."."-C.. \~i~t~olR~. A"~~l'~~ ~~e.:r to #273 indices of heavy pressure and halting slowness at the turning points -reflecting the lassitude and apathy that prevented the writer from driving his pen with any speed across the page.:" Figure #272 shows a use of pressure that hampers speed and fluency. The all-out pressure on the downward stroke upsets equilibrium, so that the writer is forced to change the tilt of the pen, and some vagary in his manner of manipulating it produces both the swallowtails at the peaks of the scalloped tracing and the ragged outline at the base. The pressure pattern is further shown by the hairline stroke upon which the 0 is incongruously balanced. However the highly artistic configuration of the signa- ture shows rhythm and balance, because of its aesthetic and original distribution of forms. A sharp contrast is offered in the controlled and forceful ductus of the script shown in figure #273. PRESSURE AND MUSCULAR STRENGTH Earlier graphologists equated writing pressure with volitional energy. Present-day investigators regard this as an oversimple 261 explanation of the pressure phenomenon, applying only where steady pressure is exerted with vertical stress. Figures #266 and #273 present examples of such regularity, whereas in figure #265 the pronounced pressure in the vertical direction is neither regular nor genuinely a part of an integrated movement pattern. The tendency to exert heavy pressure in writing is not at- tributable to possession of sheer muscular power. H. jacoby?" studied this possible relationship by examining the handwritings of several hundred shoe-factory hands whose work involved the use of pliers in a routine manipulation requiring great strength primarily. Yet Jacoby found that those workers who turned out more than the average number of pieces per hour, i.e., who had the greatest muscular strength, invariably wrote with no more than average pressure. The present author investigated the pressure factor in the writing performances of 2145 Hungarian school children of both sexes and various ages.l! The results showed that muscular strength has no bearing on the degree of pressure exerted in writing. In- stead, they pointed to a significant correlation between writing pressure and inclination to purposeful activity, capacity for con- centration, and endurance. These findings seem to be confirmed by an investigation of the writing of seventy-seven girls com- mitted as juvenile delinquents to a reformatory, where they were put to work as farm hands. Poor writing pressure prevailed throughout the group. Indeed, 12 per cent of these girls displayed the minimal degree of pressure that could be noted by experi- mental measurement. This is all the more significant in view of the fact that tests of 1000 high-school girls yielded not a single case of similarly low pressure. It was a seeming paradox that of the reformatory girls, those who rated lowest in writing pressure were the "toughest" in the group. They had been committed to the institution for sexual offenses or assault, and had to be segregated from the other in- mates because of their aggressive behavior. The notable deficiency in writing pressure in these cases corresponded with the deficiencies 262 underlying their type of psychosocial maladjustment-mental retardation, inertia, and flightiness. Medical examination showed them to lack the biological energies needed for environmental adaptation and for control of their frustration reactions. In tests concerned with the relation between handwriting and certain clusters of character traits, I. Pascal obtained results on the cor- relations between writing pressure on the one hand, and "energy," "impulsiveness," "dominance," and "determination" on the other/IS that are comparable to the findings just outlined. PRESSURE AND PSYCHIC ENERGY pulver conceives of writing pressure as a discharge of libido.P" Bere the concept of libido refers not merely to the psychosexual energy but rather to the total psychic energy as vested in all of the life activities of the individual. In this sense, libido accounts for all of the needs, drives, and cravings seeking either physical or psychic expression. Thus the well-energized, "vital" personality, endowed with a high energy potential, and thereby with some quantum of creative drive, writes with notable pressure. Pulver's general idea provides a working hypothesis that has proved fruit- ful. In a further development of it, however, he sets up the separate categories of "physical libido" and "psychic libido," and this attempt at clear-cut differentiation of complexly interrelated factors results in confusion. For example, "intensity" is listed as psychic, and "brutality" as physical. Obviously neither belongs wholly to the one or to the other classification. An outstanding graphic expression of libido appears in the h:mdwriting of Napoleon Bonaparte. In the signature shown in :figure #274 a, the pressure is heavy and the strokes exceedingly ~harp in outline, although in spots pastose and flooded with ink. !'here is a remarkable sweep and speed to the movement. This ~ombination of qualities points to a superlative endowment of ~nergy. The irregularity and the breaks in rhythm signify not ()n1y an absolute disregard for norms and conventions, but also 263 #274 headlong 'ego urges, aggressive impulses, and a tendency' to ex- plosive fits of passion that disturb both psychic and somatic equilibrium. The terminal stroke of the signature-always an avenue for release of surplus energy-here serves for a remarkable exteriorization of an excessively powered libido. The tracing is sharp in outline, both in the slender part and in the extraordinary broad portion. Its swordlike form is a common symbol of War. In a graphological study of Napoleon and his mother, ]. Ninckl15 discusses the handwriting of Laetitia Bonaparte in her old age. Her script (fig. #274 b) parallels her son's, trait for trait: it shows the same heavy pressure, the same full, dark, sensuous pastosity, the same irregularity, the same disregard for Con- ventional proportions and forms, the same breaks in rhythm, the same slant toward the right, and similar scrawled letter forms. The author of the study points out that of all the children of this remarkable woman-of her family of thirteen, eight survived to adulthood-none was as much like her as Napoleon. It may prove illuminating to compare the bold and vivid script of Napoleon with the obviously "phony" hand reproduced in figure #275. The writer of the specimen was a very bizarre char- acter whose eccentric propagation of varied causes won him a considerable discipleship. The ostentatious width of his strokes is produced by a trick of wielding the pen without pressure. These showy strokes, dark and broad, contrast with the rest of the ductus, which is thin and weak. This writing demonstrates in both its thin and its thick strokes the quality called pastosity. 264 ·1 _·_tt_r~ ~cJ~~ ~;....._.._ I(J ~ v~ .-l, ta.-_S. 'j' #275 Pastose strokes, as pointed out above, are broad and dark, though produced without marked pressure. Such an ink-saturated, pastose ductus produces an effect of warmth and color, and has a sensuous appeal. This is borne out by an analogous reaction quite commonly obtained in the Rorschach test, when a dense black ink blot is seen as a bear rug with the furry side up. According to the precedents accumulated in the clinical use of this test, such a response may indicate sensitivity to tactile stimuli, a need for bodily contact. Graphological experience shows that pastosity is the expression of sensuous persons who manage to indulge their inclinations with little effort or strain. They manipulate the pen in a relaxed manner, and it has been observed that in such in- dividuals a copious ejection of ink induces a pleasurable feeling with erotic overtones.' Figure #276 shows the handwriting of a ?!sz~~ -W- #276 265 young man of lusty appetites who pursued sensuous pleasures without inhibitions or anxiety. The pastose stroke is generally found in the handwriting of hearty, wholesome men and women who live close to nature, such as gardeners, farmers, horse breeders, etc. It appears also in the writing of hedonists and epicures, and is especially characteristic of artists who excel in the use of colors (fig. #277). #277 Werner Wolff, discussing the symbolic meaning of WfltlOg pressure, regards the paper as the medium or "object" upon which the writer releases his "libidinous impulses."158 The desire for bodily contact, or the impulse to caress or to hurt or be hurt, is vicariously realized on the paper. The writer may move over the paper with a light, sensuous touch, or strike down on it with suddenly erupting pressure. Wolff demonstrates this in the writing of "a German Nazi girl student who handled pen and paper as though she were slaying an enemy" (fig. #278). The handwritings of three notable figures who have come to stand as types of libidinous personality supply further illustration, together with some significant contrasts. In the hand presented 266 #278