A smart, entertaining book about the rise and slow death of the art of handwriting; and why it still matters

'Part social history, part memoir ... funny and fascinating' Sunday Times Culture 'The wisest and wittiest argument imaginable for the preservation of handwriting. I have learnt so much, and by it have been so happily entertained, that I am compelled to recommend it to everyone' Diana Athill 'Like a charming dinner guest, [Hensher] brims with fun facts, sharp insights and wry wit' Abigail Meisel, New York Times Book Review 'Delightful ... [Hensher] laments the decline of handwriting, not in a precious way, not because he wishes everyone were a quill-wielding aesthete, but because it's a human activity that could be forgotten, or ignored, or done badly, or done well, and why not do it well? I'm with him all the way' Philip Pullman 'This witty, heartfelt book conveys superbly the pleasures of writing by hand and the role it still has to play in our lives' Sunday Times 'Conveys superbly the pleasures of writing by hand and the role it still has to play in our lives' Ian Critchley, Sunday Times 'Its advocacy of one of the most humane and pleasurable forms of self-expression is pretty much irresistible' Guardian 'A manifesto for the virtues of penmanship ... written with passion and thoughtfulness' Philip Womack, Telegraph 'As fewer people write by hand, some of us who do venture to squeak a thin call of alarm, like mice behind the frescoes during the last days of Pompeii. Philip Hensher voices dismay more manfully in this eloquent account of what has been and will be lost by the ending of this ancient habit' Eric Christiansen, Spectator

Philip Hensher was born in 1965 in South London, where he still lives. His nine books include Kitchen Venom, which won the Somerset Maugham Award, The Northern Clemency, which was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, King of the Badgers, and, in April 2012, Scenes from Early Life. He is a regular contributor to the Independent, the Mail on Sunday, and the Spectator.