Symbol of Elegance: The Golden Era of the Qalamdan Divit
July 14, 2023
Source: eBay
I’m a sucker for old things. Dusty books, classic fountain pens or — best of all — the Ottoman brass Qalamdan Divit. It feels as though in holding one, you’re gripping a tiny time machine, solid and studiously polished.
The Qalamdan Divit was an inkwell and pen case combination used for travel. The 1800s laptop bag — but way cooler. These gorgeous bookish cases would have been treasured by scribes, calligraphers and scholars, and would have included ink and a qalam (the reed pen).
What Made It So Special?
Practicality wasn’t the only virtue of the Ottoman brass Qalamdan Divit. It was a flex. Educated? Check. Cultured? Double-check. These weren’t built for the amateur. Scholars and poets and diplomats — they all carried one close.
The case was gold — not gold colored, but solid brass, and it sparkled in the sun. Brass was not only beautiful, but strong and easy to work with. Craftspeople molded and incised each case with obsessive care: intricate flower patterns, repeating geometries, even microscopic Arabic calligraphy.
I saw one, once, at a street market in Istanbul. The light was shining just so, and it looked like something from a movie for a moment. I walked away. I was followed home with regret.
Smart, Beautiful Design
The Divit was of two divisions. The bigger one contained a little pot of ink cased in a close-fitting lid—no spills when hurtling over the dunes on a camel or on horseback. The smaller one? That held the qalam. No frills, just classy and utilitarian.
Artisans didn’t cut corners. Everything was hand-engraved. The craftsmanship shouted precision. Even its most infinitesimal details read as deliberate. This was not a pen case; it was an extension of its owner.
More Than Just a Tool
Owning one said something. You weren’t just writing. You were making a statement. A diplomat could whip his out at a checkpoint along the border. A poet could begin his next verse under a fig tree. Even common scribes boasted of these instruments. Every scratch on the case had a story to tell about them.
Still Collectible, Still Covetable
Collectors still seek them out. Even a well-preserved Ottoman brass Qalamdan Divit isn’t just an artifact. It’s a piece of legacy. The engraving, the patina, the worn-down qalam slots — all suggest past lives, past words.
I met one collector who presented his in a shadow box, lit as if it belonged in a museum. Honestly? It kind of did.
Why It Matters
The Qalamdan Divit contained it all — utilitarian power, beauty, identity. These weren’t mass-produced. Each was a skillful, proud labor. They serve as a reminder that writing was once a thing, not just typing. It was ritual.
If you ever spot one, don’t think twice. Get it. Run, even. It is worth chasing some pieces of history.