Spurred by a discussion about Polish keyboard layouts, I tried to find more about the history of Czech keyboard layouts. Unfortunately, finding actual documents turned out to be very difficult.
What I did find is that prior to the current Czech keyboard layout standard (ČSN 36 9050, published in 1994), typewriter keyboard layouts were governed by ČSN 17 8151 from March 1974, titled “Psací stroje. Klávesnice s latinkou, česká a slovenská mutace.” (Czechoslovak State Norm 17 8151, Typewriters. Keyboards with Latin keyboard, Czech and Slovak variants.). There was also ČSN 17 8152 specifying Cyrillic layouts (quite uncommon). Computer keyboards, unsurprisingly, tended to closely match typewriter layouts.
Prior to that, since about 1953, typewriter keyboards were specified by ČSN 01 6906 (Czech and Slovak layouts) and ČSN 01 6907 (Cyrillic). These supposedly replaced ČSN 1408 from 1949. I have not been able to find out anything about the content of these standards, or if there was any attempt to standardize Czech typewriter layouts before 1949. I am not even entirely sure that ČSN 1408–1949 really existed.
However, I did remember that my family still owns my grandfather’s typewriter that must have been made sometime before WWII, perhaps in the 1930s. It’s a portable typewriter in a wooden case, and research showed that it is in fact a well known model… mostly.
The typewriter is quite clearly a Remington Portable No. 2, easily recognizable from the shiny type guards which need to be raised together with the type bars when the typewriter is prepared for operation. Even better, Remington serial numbers are well documented and the typewriter’s serial number (NE61083) indicates that it was made in August 1926, a century ago.
But then there were questions that I had no answers for. Did Remington really make Czech typewriters in the US? If not, how did the typewriter get Czech types? And what’s with the Consul label?
Consul Typewriters
Consul was a brand name of typewriters made in Czechoslovakia circa 1953-1988. Initially it was used as a model name for Zeta typewriters made by Zbrojovka Brno (ZB), but in the 1960s the entire typewriter line made by ZB was branded Consul. Consul typewriters, especially small portable ones, were exported into many countries around the world. Among others, Consul typewriters were sold in North America by Jack Tramiel’s Commodore Business Machines.
As an aside, there was a natural link between typewriters and computers. On the one hand, companies like Commodore sold business machines and more or less had to move from typewriters to computers. On the other hand, typewriter technology was very close to teletypes, and Zbrojovka Brno made for example the Consul 256 teletype or the Consul 259 computer keyboard, and in fact in the 1980s ZB made computer peripherals and entire computer systems, such as the Consul 2715 (a clone of the IBM 5280).
But back to typewriters. My initial assumption was that it would have been extremely difficult to rework a US typewriter (or a German one) to support Czech. But then I found an old typewriter repair manual which clearly indicated that it was entirely possible to de-solder existing types and solder on new ones, without even taking the typewriter apart.
So I had a closer look at the types. And sure enough, the types that would have needed replacing (the top row and the right-hand non-alphanumeric keys) really do look different. While I could not find any obvious evidence of soldering, the non-English types are slightly shorter (there’s less metal above the top letter) and while all the (presumably) original types have some kind of stamp that I can’t quite make out, the Czech types have a clearly recognizable ’27’ stamped into them (could that be 27 for 1927? Who knows).
The keys themselves appear to be designed such that the labels on them would have been replaceable. It is therefore entirely plausible that someone could have adapted a US typewriter for use in Czechoslovakia. That someone would have obviously needed a machine shop in order to manufacture the replacement types, but that was not exactly rocket science in the 1920s.
Does the Consul label on a 1926 Remington typewriter have anything to do with post-war Consul typewriters? Hard to say… but keep reading.
Czech Keyboard Layouts, Pre-WWII
My grandfather’s old Remington has a keyboard layout that is both quite familiar yet distinctly different from modern keyboards. The obvious difference is that the old typewriter was designed to write not only Czech but also German, and therefore has dedicated ä, ö, and ü keys. These are generally in the same locations where they would be on a German keyboard; surely not a coincidence.
The familiar part is the top row with Czech letters using diacritics. Interestingly, modern keyboards all use the sequence ěščřžýáíé while the historic Remington has ěščřžýáéí (that is, the last two letters are swapped around). I cannot discern any particular logic to this sequence, so either order makes as much sense as the other.
But why has the keyboard layout changed? It is likely that the combined Czech-German keyboard layout goes back to the times of the Austro-Hungarian empire (until 1918) when German was an official language in today’s Czechia and communication in German would have been essential.
In fact I found a photo of a typewriter that is probably a Remington 10 made in 1910 (and sold by Glogowski & Co) which has the same kind of keyboard layout:
After 1918, German was less important but there was still a large German minority in Czechoslovakia, and at minimum German proper names (towns and people) were quite common. Inertia may well have played a role too.
After the end of WWII, the German minority was deported from Czechoslovakia and other countries, and German was intentionally de-emphasized. That was also reflected in typewriter layouts which no longer supported German.
One question that kept nagging at me was whether there was a standard Czech typewriter layout before WWII. I have not been able to find any official information at all. And while typewriters were a common enough sight in old photos and movies, getting an image sharp enough to make out the layout was near impossible.
So I did the next best thing and looked at vintage typewriters for sale today. While I cannot precisely date the typewriters in most cases, “before WWII” seems clear enough from looking at the machines. After looking at a few samples of typewriters suitable for writing in Czech, a fairly clear picture emerged:
- All typewriters had the ěščřžýáíé top row with slight variations
- Combined Czech-German letters (ä, ö, ü) were common
- Czech-only keyboards without German letters also existed
- There was no single common layout for either Czech or Czech-German keyboards
I believe the typewriters that supported both Czech and German were referred to as “universal”.
This is the Czech keyboard of a 1928 Remington Portable (serial number NX82639):
To underscore that there was no standard, here’s an example of a different mid-1920s Remington Portable typewriter (serial number unknown) with a Czech-only keyboard:
The second specimen has a layout very close to the modern Czech standard, with ěščřžýáíé in the top row (ending with the now-standard íé rather than éí), and the ú and ů keys to the right of P and L, respectively. Interestingly, the first keyboard appears to have an umlaut (¨) key which would make it possible (if not efficient) to write German, while the second does not. The layout is almost identical to the one used by post-war portable Zeta typewriters.
Now compare with the my grandfather’s 1926 Remington Portable typewriter equipped with a combined Czech-German keyboard:
Note that the shift and backspace keys are labeled in Czech in all cases. The combined Czech-German layout has äöü keys but lacks underscore (_), exclamation mark (!), and ú. The latter is not very common and can be easily produced by using the ´(acute accent) dead key followed by u. In fact the first Czech keyboard example has no ú key either (opting for umlaut key instead).
Why were Remington Portable No 2 typewriters (only produced circa 1925-1930) in Czechoslovakia sold with at least three different keyboard layouts? That different manufacturers would use different layouts would be understandable, but a single model from one manufacturer? That really seems like an overkill. Most likely it has something to do with how these typewriters were adapted for the Czech market, but I could not find a satisfactory answer.
To complete the circle, there were also Remingtons with a combined German-Czech layout. The typewriter below was clearly intended for users who primarily needed German (the shift/backspace keys are labeled in German), but also offers the ´ˇ dead key as well as ů. As such, the typewriter would have been suitable for writing German with the occasional Czech name or a short phrase in Czech. Most likely it was intended for German speakers living in Czechoslovakia.
Remington Typewriters in Bohemia and Moravia
Although it is unclear when exactly typewriters made it to what is modern-day Czechia, it is clear that it was in the late 1800s. In the 1890s, some job postings already required typewriting skills. Note that the following research is based primarily on German-language newspapers, simply because there is an excellent searchable database of historic print media covering Austria-Hungary that is German-oriented, since it is run by the Austrian national library.
The following advertisement appeared in Prager Abendblatt on December 18, 1886:
The Remington typewriter was claimed to write “2-3 times faster than a pen” and to be capable of writing 3 copies at once, which implies that typewriters were quite new to the intended audience. Although the ad appeared in a Prague newspaper, the Remington sales locations listed were in Berlin, Stuttgart, and Vienna.
By 1895, a Remington sales representative (John Birney, apparently working for Berlin-based Glogowski & Sohn) made it to Prague:
The ad touts the dozens of Remington typewriters used by Austro-Hungarian and German companies. In 1898, an ad offered typewriters, typewriter repairs, typewriter supplies, and training for typists by Remington representative Charles Jensen in Prague:
The Glogowski company, “Purveyor to the Royal Household” (remember that Remington 10?), at some point opened a branch in Prague, as evidenced by this ad from 1910:
Ads also appeared in Czech-language press, such as this Remington Portable ad from 1926:
It is presumably not a coincidence that the address of the Remington sales location in Prague (Zeltnergasse 35/Celetná 35) had not changed between 1910 and 1926.
There was no significant typewriter production in Czechoslovakia before the 1930s. All typewriters were imported and many well-known brands were seen—Remington, Underwood, Royal, Mercedes, Olympia, Olivetti, Yost, and many more.
That changed in 1932 when Zbrojovka Brno (the same company which made Consul typewriters after the war) began manufacturing Remington typewriters under a license. The following bit of news appeared in the Prager Tagblatt newspaper on November 27, 1932 (page 10):
Transcribed to modern letters:
Brünner Waffen erzeugt Remington-Schreibmaschinen. Die tschechoslowakischen Waffenwerke A.-G. in Brünn haben die Lizenz der Schreibmaschinentype “Remington” erworben. Für die erste Zeit werden noch eine Anzahl Bestandteile aus Amerika eingeführt. Die Montageabteilung hat bereits die Maschinen auf den Markt gebracht. Den Verkauf besorgt die bisherige Verkaufsorganisation der Remington-Gesellschaft.
Translated:
Brno Arms produces Remington typewriters. The Czechoslovak Arms Manufacturing Works Ltd. in Brno has acquired a license for Remington typewriter models. Initially, some of the parts will be imported from the United States. The assembly department has already delivered the first typewriters. Sales will be managed by Remington’s existing sales network.
The announcement implied that the typewriters would be at first assembled partially from US-made components and later manufactured entirely in Brno.
A similar, somewhat earlier announcement can be found in the Československá republika newspaper on May 1, 1932 (page 9):
Translated:
Typewriter production in Zbrojovka Brno started. Brno-based “Zbrojovka” signed an agreement about typewriter production in Czechoslovakia with Remington-Rand company of New York. A certain licensing fee will be paid for the acquired rights. All preparations were completed in Zbrojovka’s factory in Brno and the production of parts has commenced. Zbrojovka plans to not only supply the domestic market, but also considers exporting Czechoslovak-made typewriters to other Central European countries, especially the Balkans.
Soon enough, ads for the Remingtons made by Zbrojovka Brno could be seen, such as this one from March 1933:
Or the following ad from November 1933:
The typewriters were apparently referred to as Remington “Z” and the ads showed Remington sales locations in Prague and Brno (both of which apparently moved between March and November 1933, for whatever reason).
Some of the ZB-made Remingtons survived, such as this ZB-made Remington Junior:
The keyboard layout is identical to my grandfather’s 1926 Remington Portable, which is surely not a coincidence.
Note that there is no ‘1’ (number one) key at all; instead, lowercase L was used. In addition, this pre-war Czech keyboard also had no ‘0’ (zero) key and capital O had to be used instead.
It is also worth pointing out that the key with diacritical marks (´and ˇ) is a dead key and typing it does not move the paper, because it is assumed to be followed by a letter that needs to be typed in the same position.
The basic layout is QWERTZ since typewriters originally came to modern-day Czechia from Germany. In German, the relative frequency of Y and Z is about the opposite of what it is in English (in English, Y is very common and Z is not; in German, Z is quite common while Y is rare) which is why the Y and Z keys were swapped on German keyboards. In Czech, neither Z nor Y is particularly rare and although the QWERTZ layout is standard, QWERTY is also used on computers.
So… Consul?
Back to the mysterious Consul logo. Here is the add-on logo on my grandfather’s Remington Portable:
For comparison, here’s the Consul logo on a 1970 Consul 231.2 portable typewriter, a model produced in the 1960s and 1970s:

The typeface is almost identical. Given the near-infinite variety of typefaces used for typewriter logos, even for Consul typewriters, it is very difficult to believe that this is a coincidence.
So far I have not been able to find photos of any other Remington typewriter with a Consul logo. However, the logo is very professionally made. I do not believe that it was added later, in fact I strongly suspect my grandfather didn’t use the typewriter much at all after 1950 or so—before Zbrojovka Brno (ZB) even started making Consul typewriters.
Here’s what we know:
- In 1932, Zbrojovka Brno started manufacturing Remington typewriter under a license
- After WWII, ZB started manufacturing their own typewriters under the Zeta brand
- Circa 1953, the Consul name was used for Zeta typewriters; the entire typewriter line from Zbrojovka Brno was later branded Consul
Here’s what we don’t know:
- Why does a 1926 Remington Portable with a Made in USA label have almost exactly the same Consul logo as 1960s-1970s portable typewriters made by Zbrojovka Brno in Czechoslovakia?
It is plausible, perhaps even likely, that ZB was involved with adapting Remington typewriters for the Czech market well before 1932, either working with Czech importers or with Remington directly. I have not been able to find information about how exactly Remington typewriters were imported to Czechoslovakia, but there is clear evidence that Remingtons were sold in Prague at least since the 1890s, and import likely started in the 1880s, in times of the Austro-Hugarian empire.
It is near certain that whoever originally sold my grandfather’s Remington Portable in the 1920s put the Consul logo on it. Whether it was Zbrojovka Brno or not is impossible to tell based on the available data (which consists of one single typewriter). I could not find any positive evidence of Consul-branded typewriters being sold in Czechoslovakia in the 1920s, but the available sources are far too limited.
It is also near certain that in the 1960s, Zbrojovka Brno reused the 1920s Consul logo, either because someone saw it on a (then) decades-old Remington typewriter, or because it was in fact ZB who used the Consul logo on Remington typewriters in the first place. I consider the latter somewhat more likely.
Given that Remington typewriters clearly sold in good numbers and many of them survived for 100+ years, it seems unlikely that my family would own the only Remington with a Consul label in the world. Are there more of them?
Summary
The modern Czech keyboard layout has a long history, although the particulars are fuzzy. Typewriters capable of writing Czech existed before WWI, and may have started appearing around 1890. In the 1920s, typewriters with a Czech keyboard layout very similar to the modern one already existed. For practical reasons, early Czech typewriters often used a combined Czech-German layout which likely vanished after WWII. Post-war typewriters settled on one of the layouts used before the war, and no later than the 1950s, official standards for typewriter layouts were established (although their precise content is unknown).
The history of the Consul brand for typewriters remains shrouded in mystery. The only data point known so far is that a 1920s Remington typewriter sports a Consul logotype near identical to the one which appeared on Consul portable typewriters in the 1960s.
Addendum: Remington Keyboard Layouts
After publishing the post, I came across an extensive reference of historic Remington (and Smith) keyboard layouts on archive.org. Unfortunately there is no context for this information. However, the reference provides valuable information for establishing approximately how old these keyboard layouts are, even though it only covers Remington and Smith typewriters.
The reference lists a “Bohemian” layout No. 20 for “Bohemian users of Domestic [US] Keyboard”, available on Remington No. 7 and 8, as well as 10 and 11. That would date the layout to late 1890s or very early 1900s. It does not resemble the modern Czech layout at all. If the layouts in the reference are more or less chronologically ordered, this layout dates back to circa 1896.
Then we have a “Bohemian” layout No. 111, for Remington No. 10 and 11 typewriters. This layout is marked as first used in 1904, and it bears clear resemblance to the modern Czech layout with ěščřžýáéí in the top row and a dead key for ´ˇ accents.
There is also a “German-Bohemian” layout No. 112 for Remington models 7, 8, 10, and 11, unfortunately with no date. This is a combined layout which is primarily German but also capable of writing Czech.
Next there is the “Domestic German-Bohemian” layout No. 179, for Remington models No. 7 and 8. A note says that “Apostrophe (‘) is adjusted close to preceding letter space to provide for ď and ť”. Again this layout is nothing like modern Czech layouts.
However, the “German Bohemian” layout No. 180, for model No. 9, is unlike the “German-Bohemian” layout N0. 112, it is in fact a primarily Czech layout with German äöü letters.
Then there is “Bohemian (No. 3)” layout No. 244, for Remington No. 9 typewriters, which again is the US layout with several keys needed for writing Czech, dissimilar to modern Czech layouts.
Another “German Bohemian” layout No. 276, for Remington No. 9, is the opposite of “German Bohemian” layout No. 180 (which is primarily Czech) but similar to “German Bohemian” layout No. 112 (which is primarily German). This layout is marked as first used in January 1907.
The “Bohemian-German” layout No. 277, for Remington No. 9, is marked as first used on January 31, 1907. Again it has a top row which closely resembles modern Czech keyboards, but many other keys are different.
For Remington models 10 and 11 there is “German Bohemian” layout No. 469, a minor variation on the preceding types.
There is an interesting “Bohemian German Adding” layout No. 540 for Remington No. 11 which was clearly meant primarily for writing numbers (rather than text) and the top row writes numbers in the basic position and accented characters when shifted (the opposite of regular Czech layouts).
The “Bohemian German” layout No. 572 for Remington No. 10 and 11 does not have umlauts and would have been suitable for writing Czech with a very occasional German word.
There is a “Slovak” layout No. 1204 for Remington No. 10 and 11, presumably circa 1910.
The number of layouts listed is frankly dizzying. I could not find anything that matches the modern Czech standard layout, but the reference material is clearly incomplete. It seems fairly clear that historically, there was no “pure Czech” layout, there were either Czech layouts with German support, German layouts with Czech support, or US layouts with Czech support.
Remington made typewriters with ěščřžýáéí keys (unshifted) in the top row, which are clearly direct predecessors of the the modern Czech keyboard layout, no later than 1904. Remington was also not necessarily the first company supplying such typewriters.
Typewriters with Czech layout and ú/ů keys to the right of P/L keys (same as the modern layout) came somewhat later, but likely existed in the 1920s already.
It is still unclear exactly how the typewriters were supplied. Did Remington distributors have to order such machines directly from Remington, have them made in the US, and then shipped to Austria-Hungary, and later to Czechoslovakia? Or was some local adaptation made? All that is still a bit of a mystery.
Addendum: Consul Font
It occurred to me that perhaps the Consul logotype is indeed fairly modern and uses a font which only appeared in the 1950s or 1960s. The logotype (shown below again for clarity) has a more or less perfectly circular O, a distinct C, as well as a not-so-usual S. It does not particularly look like something one would associate with the early 20th century.
However… after a bit of a search, I found that the logotype uses a font which is extremely close to the “heavy” weights of the Akzidenz-Grotesk typeface, which was first released in… 1898.
In fact one ad published in Prager Tagblatt in 1925 uses a font which could even be identical (the letters N and C look remarkably similar), although that’s difficult to ascertain without comparing all the relevant letters:
While this is no proof that it is really so old, the Consul logotype shown above could conceivably date back to the 1920s based on the font it uses.



















Intresting article, but please please *please* don’t use the cringy word
“Czechia”. You know that it really just means “Bohemia”, and mecan
assure you it’s mainly being used in the Czech Republic (hah) these days
to further the erasure of the distinct culture of the areas that don’t
have the privilige of being Bohemia. At least “Czech Republic” (even
though it’s more of a nepocracy) conveys the slightest hint that there’s
more than Bohemia in there.
(Sometimes it seems that the old “recognize & appease the different
cultures” approach of Austria-Hungary wasn’t so bad compared to the
contemporary “let’s pretend we’re one big happy family” one. Mejust
wishes that the “let’s work through our differences like adults”
option was on the table.)
Sorry for the OT-ness, but mereally tripped over that.
I doubt the Consul plaque dates to the 1920s since it is translucent though it could possibly be smoky glass instead of plastic. Hundred year old glue should be visibly separating from the base. I suspect there was a refurbishment back in the 70s which included the new label. US based repair companies added a sticker with their logo. I don’t know if the same applied in Czechoslovakia.
100 years without maintenance should have left the typewriter rusted. Remington made good mechanisms but there was a limit on how long it could go.
The German transcription to Antiqua had some issues.
Tři drobné nedostatky – opraveny zde:
“… Die tschechoslowakischen Waffenwerke A.-G. in Brünn haben die Lizenz der Schreibmaschinentype “Remington” erworben. Für die erste Zeit werden noch eine Anzahl Bestandteile aus Amerika eingeführt. Die Montageabteilung hat bereits die Maschinen auf den Markt gebracht. Den Verkauf besorgt die bisherige Verkaufsorganisation der Remington-Gesellschaft.”
The translation to “Ltd” seems to be strange. A British PLC or an American Corporation could fit better.
Did the “dead keys” actually function like dead keys, i.e. didn’t advance the carriage at all?
A great deal of the horrors of 8-bit code pages could have been avoided with a few “dead key” code points for things.
Czechia is a strange word but I use it as a shorthand for “Czech Republic”, the way it is used on current maps. The implication is that it covers the entire country and not only Bohemia. Just because I use it doesn’t mean I like it.
“Czechoslovak Arms Manufacturing Works Ltd.” is what was stenciled on the typewriters made by ZB. I agree that “Ltd.” is an odd choice but if that’s what they called themselves, I’m not going to argue.
Thanks for the corrections, the typos were all mine.
Yes, the dead key really did not advance the carriage. The ´ˇ key is the rightmost type on the typewriter, which is probably not a coincidence.
I suspect that 8-bit codepages were the way they were because CRT terminals could not overprint the way typewriters and teletypes could.
I can’t say for sure what material the logo is, it actually looks metallic to me. You may be underestimating 100yo glue though. I have not seen that kind of logo on any Consul typewriters either, the Consuls that used the same typeface had individual letters made from some kind of metal or plastic. It’s all a bit strange.
In the 1970s my grandfather was long retired and I highly doubt the typewriter would have been refurbished. I do know that at least since the 1960s, and likely long before that, the typewriter was stored in a dry environment and was probably used minimally or not at all, so it should not have developed any rust. From my experience with these things, storage conditions are everything but in a dry environment at more or less room temperature, rust does not develop. A humid environment is a completely different story.
@Necasek: me’s probably being a bit more prickly than usual, sorry for
that.
Back on-topic–
The question is why to this day we “need” letters with diacritics in
fonts when the bitmap restriction has long passed into history.
Oh, that’s right, the terminal emulators haven’t kept up.
As usual these days, it’s the basic infrastructure that’s neglected in
favour of layers and layers of fancy stuff, half of which wouldn’t even
be needed if only people’d pay more attention to the foundations.
@zeurkous:
How do you handle t + ˇ (háček) being rendered as ť (t’ in ASCII) without having a glyph for it in the font? How do you ensure í (i + ´) does not have the dot? How do you ensure the ogonek in ą is on the right, but the one in ę is in the center? You need a human designer to handle those cases, to ensure all accents look good, and to ensure outline fonts do not contain intersecting lines due to diacritics.
Or how would software be expected to deal with nonsense combinations like f or q + ˇ (háček)? Sure software might “know” which combinations are valid, but in that case, isn’t it easier to represent accented characters (of which there is a limited set) as a single entity? You also bring up a valid point that some accent combinations are not so obvious (ď or ť, í can’t have the dot) and cannot be produced with simple overprinting.
With typewriters, people were able to accept limitations because the technology wasn’t there. But at the same time, typeset text was a thing and everyone understood that typewritten text was limited, and it was never an example of what professionally done text “should” look like.
W/ troff(1), me’s been emulating the hooklet with (backquote, quote) (so
a double composition). A dedicated character might look better, but note
that fonts could be designed to be more regular in order to make
the use of diacritics more orthogonal: the backquote could just be an
X-flipped version of the quote (and vice versa), and the two could be
designed to together produce a hook.
Thus, even Knuth would appear to have gotten it wrong here (a bold
claim, but he’s an algorithmitist (to invent a word), not a UI guy). He
called his shiny new non-monospace font “Computer Modern”. Me’d argue
that while it might’ve been contemporary, it was backwards from a
computer point of view. Computers are tools, they work best when they
are orthogonal: why should a programmer (or font-smith) be in a position
to pre-judge what characters a luser should be composing?
In fact, the pre-conceived character set, even if it’s as big as
Unicode, does give us problems. What was the last time someone added
to a programming language a new construct that didn’t have to be
expressed through {operator overloading,verbose text}? It limits our
thinking. If it would be easy to invent a new character on the spot,
as it is on paper, even if it is just in the form of some combination of
existing characters, it would re-open so many doors that have been
closed for such a long time. Consider that.
As for the ‘d’ and ‘t’: we largely abandoned cursive script ’cause it’s
considerably more difficult to express in type. Now, quite arguably,
computers are an even greater revolution than type was. Why wouldn’t we
accept a slight modification of letters, where reasonably necessary to
fit the modern area just that crucial bit better?
Oh, and as usual, `common’ notions of “professionally done” are really
only common outside reality =)
Oh BTW, me’s not advocating to just drop the hook from the {‘d’,’t’}s,
as might be inferred from reading me previous post. Me’s talking about
modifying the base shape of the letters to make more room for the
hooks. No loss in meaning, just a different way of writing them.
I don’t know if this would be useful but made a quick search at google patents with “Zbrojovka Brno”, and there are patents starting from 1934 for weapons, and if I add the word typewriter there are patents from 1948. I don’t have the time at the moment to check page after page but probably you could find something there, probably checking page by page or using some other word in Czech or in another source of patents.
It is well known that Zbrojovka Brno started building typewriters under a license from Remington in 1932 (see article) and their own designs (Zeta) after the war. The mystery is exactly how the typewriter import business worked before that, but I would not expect any patents to have been involved.
One of the better known ZB products was the ZB-26 machine gun and its variants, like the Bren. I did a quick check of the patent databases but couldn’t find anything typewriter related from before the 1960s or so, and for most of the pre-war patents I could not see the contents anyway, only the subject.
Yes, it is easy to invent a new character on the spot, see emoji. There are far too many already and 99% of them probably hinder communication instead of helping.
“Emoji”[0] are frankly the most retarded possible application of
character composition. It’s outrageous that that’s broadly facilitated
while benign applications are not.
That doesn’t invalidate me argument.
[0] Me doesn’t use them, me doesn’t see them on this terminal (me’s not
missing them!), me’s repulsed by them[1], so if me’s uninformed on
the technical details: so be it. Me’s no elitist, but at some point,
one has to stop one’s brain from drooling out one’s nose.
Oh, forgot to write footnote [1] 8)7
Here it is–
[1] There’s something uncanney valley-like about them. Or perhaps
mesees right through them & it’s the people using them that feel
artificial.
@zeurkous I don’t exactly love emoji, but I’d much prefer communicating with an emoji addict than some tosser who uses the r-slur.
Fascinating.
My foreigner, non-European, perspective after 17 years living in Prague, is that there was so much cultural loss for everyone after the nationalistic mess of the 2 World Wars. My country of origin is strictly monolingual.
My girlfriend’s family is from Eastern Slovakia and a brunch of the family settled in Munich after the 60s. The great-grandparents spoke Slovak, German and Hungarian fluently. The grandparents spoke Slovak and Hungarian. The parents only speak Slovak and forcefully-fed Russian. Everyone understood Czech (or Slovak, if Czech-speaker). The current generation speaks English due to educational insistence, but they don’t live in a multilingual environment like the others did. Kids have troubles to understand Czech (or Slovak, if Czech native).
Out of the German branch of the family, some speak Slovak because they bothered to try to learn it, but they don’t live in a multilingual environment anymore.
I myself speak Slovak in Prague. I ended up learning it because I deal with Slovaks more often than Czechs. And when I have troubles in the supermarket because a person there doesn’t understand when I ask for eggs or ice, I mourn what the people of the country have lost in terms of cultural diversity just because of a minority that kept insisting on imposing their ways on the others. Why can’t we just get along?
The old documents, ads, newspapers and street signs in Prague are fascinating and when I hear older multilingual folks live their lives switching languages efortlessly, my heart signs with joy.
@paige-fault: Me’s not a t-slur, so mewon’t feel offended by your
remark 😉
Silesians definitely live in a multilingual environment, though.
English, High German, Slavic Silesian, Polish, and Czech are all
commonly spoken. Though public life in each slice tends to standardize
on the language of the occupying state, there’s a *lot* of passive
intelligibility between those languages in Silesia, and many words are
just used cross-language without even bothering to translate them.
Just from me perspective as an imported Silesian =)
As for Slovak: me’s been under the (excellent!) care of several
Slovak-speaking doctors, and there were absolutely zero language
problems. Mesupposes that further east we understand Slovak a bit
better than does your average Bohemian in Praha.
(Hungarian, now *that’s* hard :P)
(But they’re good people and me*loves* their kolb’asz!)
In times of Czechoslovakia, Czech kids learned Slovak in school but only for one semester or maybe even less. The vast majority was learned by osmosis because Slovak was on the radio, on TV, in newspapers and magazines. Slovaks were probably much more exposed to Czech than vice versa, but the exposure to Slovak was still significant on the Czech side.
I too have German ancestors, but one branch of them actually lived in Hungary. That said, I have no idea how many of them were bilingual. Then again my kids are, so there’s that.
Sometimes I do wonder if the Austro-Hungarian empire might have survived much longer if it hadn’t been for the Great War, and maybe over time it could have turned into a sort of mini-EU. But the war exposed all the existing fault lines and caused too much of a shock.
Of course, these typewriters notoriously lack a 1 key, which is “interesting” since I’m teaching my 4 year old to learn to type on an old Royal.
The tabulator is great. It’s easy to set it up for standard 80 column text with 8 character tabstops.
If you type the underscore too hard, it will actually cut through the paper.
Overtyping diacritics or accented characters is difficult since it doesn’t have quote marks other than straight up and down. The U.S. typewriters weren’t remotely set up to type any kind of international text.
Many of the old Czech typewriters lacked not only the 1 (one) key but also the 0 (zero) key. Likewise no parentheses, so people used slashes instead /like this/.
Back in the old days Remington sold tons of various “polyglot” typewriters which seem to have been designed to support various diacritical marks, allowing for accented characters to be composed as needed.
Phototypesetters restricted diacritical marks since the borders of each element weren’t crisp leading to the print blurring together. That led to a lot of streamlined fonts stripped of much of the older embellishment. Been a long running battle between those that want fidelity to all the printed styles of the past and those that wanted what is easy to implement with the technology of the day.
The real question is not, though, if it’s easy or not, but whether it
leads to unmanagable bloat.
Given the layers and layers and layers we’ve ended up with, me’d argue
that we don’t actually *have* the technology (although it wouldn’t be
*that* difficult to develop it, just labour-intensive & time-consuming),
we’re just really good at making it look like as if we do.
No wonder the luser base tends to now treat technology as if it were
actual magic. It’s largely smoke and mirrors these days.
But nature cannot be fooled.
Interesting read!
(another czech here)
I pulled out of my storage locker an old typewriter I inherited from my late grandfather (who died in early 1990ties).
It is practically a “laptop” typewriter, rather small L.C. Smith & Corona Zephyr, localized into czech/german, with QWERTZ and “ěščřžýáéí” layout and of course, with umlaut support (it has no “caps lock”, it has only “shift” keys, which can be “capslocked” by pressing them to the right or left), it is definitelly pre-WW2 machine (according to Internet sources, these machines were produced between 1938 – 1941, so my guess would be, that this machine was made in late 1938 or in 1939, before the outbreak of the war).
Interestingly enough, “ü” key is mislabeled as “ú”, but upon pressing it, it produces “ü” letter – don’t know why. Maybe it was refurbished/fixed at some point – I simply don’t know.
Or it could have been purchased as a refurbished after the war – these machines were in circulation and my grandfather simply needed machine with german support, as his primary language was german and he was trying to keep in touch with the rest of the family scattered throughout the world (accrording to his own words, he spoke better german than czech – to his credit, you would not tell, he had no strange accent, but as a result, he did not understand slovak, not to mention any other slavic language).
So here is another piece to the czech typewriting puzzle… now, if only I could recall where my father’s (and other grandfather’s) old Underwood typewriter went…
Very interesting — it occurs to me that ü and ú is actually the same key on the German and Czech layout, respectively. I believe that was the case 100 years ago already. That might be the source of the mix-up.
If you can find the old Underwood, I’d be interested to know what layout that one has. My impression is that although there was no true standard, in practice there was only a small handful of layouts with minor variations.
Just shows how you don’t really *need* a standard if everyone more or
less agrees on the general.
But it it is often crucial to document existing practice, if nothing
else.
Yep… and it’s quite unclear to me whether such documentation existed.
It is apparent that typewriters took a while to settle on a standard number of keys, and even after that happened, there were 44-key (portable) and 46-key (“desktop”) typewriters.
In pre-WWII Czechoslovakia specifically, there were also clearly several kinds of typewriter keyboard layouts; there was Czech-primary and German-primary, both capable of writing Czech and German. There was also a separate Slovak keyboard layout, which I suspect was capable of writing Hungarian as well. I would imagine that for a skilled typist it wouldn’t be terribly difficult to get used to any of those, since the core layout was the same. It does seem though that once computers came around, the keyboard layouts were standardized.
Circa 1950 the typewriter layouts were standardized in ČSN 01 6906, but so far I found no way to get even close to the contents of that standard.