On Dorset Street in Dublin’s north inner city there’s a typewriter shop that’s been there as long as I can remember.

Founded in 1983, it’s run by Joe Millar and his son, who’s also named Joe. It’s the last typewriter shop in Dublin and the only one in the Golden Pages where it’s listed, simply, as ‘The Typewriter Shop’.

Before setting up the shop, Joe Sr had worked in the typewriter trade for the American manufacturer Remington: “they had offices in Dublin, Belfast, Cork, Galway and Limerick”. They sold typewriters to offices, and serviced the machines to keep them in working order. “There were a lot of typewriter dealers. There were about ten dealers in Dublin, and there would have been about ten manufacturers, maybe more”. The manufacturers would assemble the typewriters, which were made elsewhere, for the Irish market. Every office had at least one typewriter, and most had many more.

Millions of typewriters were made, and there are no manufacturers left

Remington built the first commercially successful typewriter in 1873, modelled on an earlier prototype that was designed by a group of inventors that included Christopher Latham Sholes and Carlos Glidden. It was known as the Sholes and Glidden Type-Writer – or the Remington no. 1.

“There were other brands and machines as well”, Joe Sr tells me. “Underwood would be the other American brand of machine. And there were other brands that just lasted a short amount of time and disappeared or the patents were bought by other manufacturers and redesigned. So it’s strange to say that millions of typewriters were made in the world, and there are no manufacturers left.”

The move to computers wiped typewriters out. But some still use them – not just individuals, but some offices too. When something goes wrong with the machine, it needs to go to the shop to be fixed. One typewriter in the shop has three and a half thousand moving parts, and there could potentially be a problem with any one of them.

As I stand in the shop, talking to Joe Sr and Jr, the doorbell goes, and a man delivers an electronic typewriter to be fixed. Joe Jr deals with newer models, mostly electric, while Joe Sr deals with the older ones, mechanical machines. Although electric typewriters had been around since the early twentieth century, it wasn’t until the 1960s that they became popular and relatively affordable: first for offices, then for the home consumer. The IBM Selectric, which used a spherical, spinning ‘golf-ball’ element to imprint text on paper, was, in Joe Jr’s words, “the Rolls Royce of machines”, and sold to offices for twelve-hundred pounds.

They’re all nice to look at, until they break

“Now, because there’s no typewriters manufactured anymore, any company that still has a typewriter sometimes finds it hard to get parts,” says Joe Sr. “We have to circumvent and try to make something up. With the mechanical machines it’s not too bad, but with electronic machines it’s chaos, because parts are just not available.”

They deal with this by finding other machines to “cannibalise” – taking parts from one typewriter to repair another one. How many days would it take to repair a typewriter, I ask. “We never give an answer to that”, Joe Sr says. “No parts off the shelf. It depends on what’s wrong with it.”

When they have no other option, they manufacture their own parts in different ways. “You can get a part welded. Build up a part that’s been worn.” For electric typewriters, they do minor repairs on circuit boards, but for major repairs, like burnt-out boards, they send it to someone in Wicklow to have it repaired.

Joe Sr shows me a couple of the typewriters sitting on the shelves and tables of the shop. One, a Bar-Lock typewriter manufactured around 1894, has separate keyboards for lowercase and uppercase letters, and an elaborate curving copper plate above the keyboard bearing the name of the manufacturer. It’s in full working order, so Joe Sr punches the keys, which sound like gunfire.

When he places an Olympia typewriter from around 1970 on the table, Joe Sr calls it “a machine with a bit of character”. It’s out of its plastic casing and I can see the complexity of its internal mechanism: skeletal metal rods joining the keys to the typebars. “That’s lovely”, I say. “They’re all nice to look at,” Joe Jr says. “Until they break”.

Another typewriter is fished from the shelf – a matt black Smith Corona portable. We start talking about other shops in Dublin. “The trades have vanished in Dublin”, Joe Sr says. He tells a story about a pair of shoes that he had for years. When he tried to get them fixed, he was told by the manufacturer that he was better off getting rid of them, buying a new pair.

“It’s a throwaway society”, he says. But not here, where, thanks to a bit of love and care, 120-year old typewriters still work like they did on the day they were built.

Karl Whitney is the author of Hidden City: Adventures and Explorations in Dublin (Penguin). A keen explorer of Dublin, his research has brought him to some unusual places – including the city’s main sewage plant and the underground tunnels through which the River Poddle flows. He has written for the Guardian, the Irish Times and the London Review of Books.

The Antique Street

Francis Street is going through some big changes these days, subtle and quiet as they might be. The area is providing a home to new bars, restaurants, and shops. But mostly it’s filled with antique shops, and antiques have been the main business round here for quite a while now. “I opened about 16 years ago,” said Patrick Howard, of Patrick Howard Antiques, “though Francis Street itself has been filled with antique shops for almost 30 years.” Patrick was a fashion designer before he got into the antiques game. “I did that for most of my life, and when I got tired of it I decided to change dir

Read More

The Iveagh Trust Museum Flat

It’s hard to imagine this little three-room flat was once home to a family of eight. Flat 3B, Bull Alley Estate on Patrick Street, is a cosy flat comprising of a living room and two bedrooms. It was home to the Molloy family and built by The Iveagh Trust. In 1890, Edward Cecil Guinness, the First Earl of Iveagh and grandson of the original Arthur Guinness, provided houses and amenities for working-class people with low incomes in Dublin. The Iveagh Building replaced some of the worst slum dwellings in Europe. At the time, these new flats were state of the art.

Read More

Restoring Bow Street Distillery

Closing, albeit temporarily, a much loved Dublin attraction isn’t something you do lightly but Jameson did just that with Bow Street Distillery at the end of 2016. Following renovation, the doors are back open so we went stopped by for a visit. This beautiful and historic building has gone under numerous changes, the most recent of which has seen the building transformed into a spacious venue for distillery tours and events. Paula Reynolds is the project manager at the Jameson Brand Home, and played a central role in the redevelopment of the site. “We’ve been lucky in t

Read More