I like small typewriters, but shrink them too much, like the Hermes Rocket, and they’re just too dinky to bang out anything longer than script changes while on location in Monument Valley. You could travel with a Lettera, but its notoriously lousy zippered case is liable to stay shut or worse, come apart at the seams while at a brisk trot. No thanks. Keep it on the studio lot. But not so fast Bronco Billy, with the Lettera 31, Olivetti wisely discontinued the zippered mess of the Lettera 32. In its place is a single piece vinyl case. While it’s an improvement, it has no buckles, latches or locks to keep it shut.

I’m sure I’ll get bags of letters from the journalist jet-set praising the portability of the Lettera from Sri Lanka to Sao Paulo. Tell your cheap-skate editor to spring for a Rocket. Sorry, I digress. We’re reviewing a typewriter not the case.

If you haven’t read my praise of the Studio 45, get on it, because this Lettera 31 is cut from the same sheet of plastic. Plastic? Sounds cheap. It’s not. It feels solid. In fact, this Lettera 31 feels more solid than its metal clad predecessor the Lettera 32. If you’re confused by the numbering scheme, so am I. What company goes backwards with newer versions? I got it when they leapt a couple numbers from Lettera 32 to Lettera 35, but then back to 31? Strange. Leave the counting to the Swiss. The Italians should’ve never started numbering Letteras. The name was perfect just as it was. Even the number loving Swiss left the Rocket alone. I’m glad Hermes didn’t feel the need to append numbers to the Rocket, or else it might’ve ended up like that naming disaster of the 3000. Cases, names, who cares, right? How does it work? You’re right, compadre. Onwards.

One thing I love about Letteras, including the 31, is the distraction free zone. Nothing between you and your words. If you haven’t read my thoughts on this, pause the tape, and load this piece. The Lettera 31 offers an unobstructed view of your words hot off the slug. My only gripe, and it’s a biggie, as you type the page curls off the platen then disappears behind the typewriter. It doesn’t have paper supports! The Lettera 32 offers the best version of this crucial feature. Not only does it display the page, it does so at a smart angle that doesn’t leave you leaning over to see what’ve you written. Ok, Kerouac, just free wheel it and let the roll fly, no looking back, Jack.

Deal breaker? Perhaps, if the Lettera 31 wasn’t so capable. If you’re in the camp that feels the lightness of the Lettera 32 throws you off, and you want something with a bit more robusto, then the Lettera 31 might be your machine. It’s smaller than the Studio 45 and has the distraction free zone of the Lettera 32, but with a more solid feel.

Like the Studio 45, it’s not a looker. But under that bland exterior is an easy going and reliable typewriter. Just load a blank page and add your own flamboyance.

When I sit at an Olivetti, I feel like I’m tapping into a rich tradition of Italian artisans, where form is as important as function. But a great design only works if the typewriter is up to snuff. Sure, they’re nice to look at, but does it work every day, every letter, every page? With Olivetti, the answer is YES.

There’s a good reason the Studio 45’s predecessor, the 44 is near the top, only to be topped by the Lettera 32. My chief complaint with the 44 is that it doesn’t have the lightness of a Lettera. Which is OK, since it feels sturdy and reliable. The Studio 44 is no slip off your desk Slim Jim. Some prefer a beefier machine and for them the Lettera can feel flimsy. Olivetti even marketed the Studio 44 as a mix between the ease of a portable with the solid feel of an office standard. And they succeeded! But don’t be fooled, the big office standards, as I’ve noted in another post, are no slugs. There’s never a more demanding customer than an over-worked, under-paid secretary whose typing actually earns a living.

While the Studio 44 is a portable, if you’ve ever tried to tote one, they’re a lug. I must admit my curiosity for other Olivettis waned after putting the Studio 44 and the Lettera 32 in the Top Ten pantheon. There wasn’t much to improve, right? Boy, was I wrong. The Studio 45 hits the sweet spot between these two stalwarts.

The key tops on the Studio 45 are shaped like saddles, perfect for your digits to ride on. Whoever thought cupped tops were the right shape? Saddles, amigo, are the only way to ride. The Studio 44 is cuppy, while the Lettera 32 tops are flat. The saddle top keys of the Studio 45 perfectly matches the curvature of the finger. If the keys and bell are the notes of the page, the carriage return lever marks a repose in the composition. Again, Olivetti got it right with the Studio 45. It’s long, big and juts at the perfect angle for an easy catch. And once you catch it, the carriage is super smooth with just the right amount of weight and resistance. The Studio 44’s carriage always felt heavy, like you needed that giant paddle of a return lever to get it moving. And the Lettera 32 lever is small, easy to miss and the carriage is feather light that it feels like it might fly off the rails if you’re too frisky.

As for design, I love the cool blue and curves of the Studio 44 and the Lettera 32. While you can get the Studio 45 in blue, perhaps its boxier lines don’t inspire the same poster art advertisements. It’s a much quieter design. Elegant. Functional. The Studio 45 is the perfect blank canvas. If you’re looking for a reliable typewriter, I suspect a Studio 45 won’t let you down. Any off-the-shelf used one will probably be in fine shape. That’s a big reason why the Olympia SM9 sits at numero uno. Every one I’ve purchased has worked. No issues. No need for a gut rehab, nor spending more than you need to. In fact, I’d say the Studio 45 might even challenge the Olympia SM9 for top spot. It’s quieter, less mechanical sounding, softer, more muted, warmer. It should satisfy the writer who is looking for something a bit weightier than the Lettera 32, but still wants a responsive feel. It’s not as iconic, but hey, you’re getting a typewriter to write with not look at.

Get your fingers in the saddle of a Studio 45 and blaze a new trail.

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But I shouldn’t have stopped there.

Olivetti revamped the Lettera 32 with a new design, while keeping its solid mechanicals, and called it the 35L. I’ve often passed these by, thinking they were an inferior machine. In my biased view the market for manual typewriters was shrinking, therefore, manufacturers were devoting less resources for their production. For some this was the case, but not for Olivetti. The Lettera 35L certainly has its share of cost savings with plastic components (carriage return lever, margin tabs), but the mechanicals and metal body make it feel like a more solid version of the 32. Moreover, the 35 has larger key tops than the 32, giving you a bit more confidence on the keyboard.

The body is slightly larger than the 32, but maintains a similar low-profile design that is sleek and nimble. There is nothing flimsy about it. With a quiet thunk-thunk-thunk of the keys, it’s perfect for the writer who likes to go about their work without waking the house. Its unobtrusive size allows it to be stashed away easily when the desk needs clearing. The carrying bag is nothing special, but way better than the 32’s zippered version, which due to age and use is often in tatters. If you’re the type of writer who likes to cause a stir at the coffee house, tote the 35 in and start a Type-In! Even if calling attention to yourself is not your thing, don’t ignore the call of the 35.

Olivetti Underwood Lettera 32 (1963)

The first thing you notice about this typewriter is how compact and solid it feels. It’s like they’ve shrunk a standard model to pint-sized proportions.  It’s got all the great lines of an Olivetti and feels like the previous generation Lettera 22.  It’s definitely a newer, more improved version of its previous self.  It’s a little boxier and the keys strike a bit easier.

When you get going on this thing you can really keep things moving. The typebars feel like they can keep up with whatever you throw at them. Make no mistake, this is a professional’s tool, unlike other portables which are designed for the home user who only has the occasional correspondence to knock out. One can see why this is the typewriter of choice for pros like Cormac McCarthy.  This little typewriter is meant for manuscripts. Page after page flies through the platen with ease. Once you set this machine on your desk, its lower profile design never comes between you and your words. Larger portables feel like an imposition after you’ve used the Lettera 32.

About the only weakness I see is the ultra-thin space bar. At first you might not even see it. When you start typing fast it sometimes feels like your thumb needs to search for it. But not often, despite its narrow shape, the entire keyboard is compact so it forces you into a position where your thumb naturally rests near the spacebar.

The carriage return is another example of small size. It’s a short little lever that only takes a finger to operate. But it’s got a nice curve to it so your finger snugs in and finds the sweet spot for a smooth return. And it’s a smooth return. The carriage glides over a steel tube with roller bearings. The paper roller knobs are a big improvement over the 22, they’re large and easy to operate, and they make a reassuring clicking sound. This is also a quiet machine, with just the right amount of punch. What might be a bit too quiet is the margin bell. You might get a head of steam and not even hear it.

Ribbon changing is a bit difficult. You need to thread the ribbon through two little hooks and requires the right amount of twist to get into position. It’s a little like threading a needle. If you have larger fingers, you might get frustrated. Nearer the spool the ribbon also has to go around a roller post and through a slotted mechanism. This is the auto-reverse mechanism. Moreover, if the nut that holds the ribbon spool down isn’t tightened sufficiently, the ribbon doesn’t advance properly and some of the slack can unwind. But don’t tighten these nuts too much, as they can be difficult to get off. For the auto-reverse to work properly you need a ribbon with one of those eyelets near the end so it catches the mechanism and flips it around for the reverse direction. The ribbons I used didn’t have this eyelet, so I had to make this flip manually. Not a big deal, but just something you need to keep an eye on.

The paper supports form a nifty “V” when deployed. They hold the paper in what feels like an exaggerated upright position, but as you get words on paper, you’ll appreciate them clearly in view. The paper doesn’t hang sloppily over the back, nor do you need to crane your neck to see what you’ve written.

Overall, the Lettera 32 is one fine machine. It satisfies the needs of the pro writer and is small enough to find a niche in any home. The looks and styling are timeless. The soft teal color is soothing and you can look at this thing for a long time and never have sore eyes.

Here it is compared to an Olivetti Studio 44

(Studio 44, Lettera 32)

Here’s a demo:

Olivetti Underwood Studio 44 (1965)

At first glance, you notice the size. For a portable typewriter, it’s rather large. But once you get it on the desk, the sleek lines make it appear more accessible. Olivetti’s are known for their great curves and design. The Studio 44 is no exception. Even the name “studio” suggests an artist at work. This is not your standard office typewriter, but it has the solid mechanicals required for doing work, lots of work.

And that’s where Olivetti has positioned this typewriter. According to their brochure: “When the performance of a standard typewriter is required in the space of a portable. The Studio 44 bridges the gap when a standard machine would be uneconomical and a personal portable unsuitable.” Make no doubt, they’ve designed this machine for someone who takes their words seriously. If you’re after an occasional typewriter for the letter or memo, this is not your typewriter. But like Olivetti states, it’s not so large, that you can’t move it around.

Nothing about this typewriter feels flimsy. When you strike a key, there’s a measured pace to the typebar. According to Olivetti, “the typebar movement is based on the principle of progressive acceleration.” Somehow it almost doesn’t feel mechanical, but more like an extension of your fingers. Other typewriters feel like they’re translating your energy to levers and joints and springs. You’re working the machine. Not so with the Studio 44, which has a softness to it, and seems to mute the actual mechanicals at work. After typing for awhile, you have the sensation that inside this machine are tendons and muscles and bone. There’s an addicting quality and a bond begins to form between human and machine. Isn’t that the goal of any artist’s tool, that it becomes one with it’s user?

Rolling paper into the platen is smooth and quiet. The rollers on the paper scale are metal, and make light contact with the paper. The paper supports are a bit tricky to deploy. There’s two of them that require you to push down on the exposed part to get them to flip up. The margin stops are easy to slide into position.

The carriage return lever is a two-piece construction. It hinges back for storing the typewriter in the case. The carriage return paddle is big, making it quite easy to use and find. If you do lots of typing you’ll appreciate how easy the carriage return works. It feels smooth in your fingers and after repeat use, carriage returns come naturally and easily. It seems like a lot went into the design of the carriage return paddle. Again, it reinforces Olivetti’s mission to combine design with function. It’s one of those small things the power user will appreciate after hundreds of pages of a manuscript.

Typed characters come out bright, true and aligned. Olivetti claims the perfect alignment is because the carriage movement is comprised of a steel tube that glides over roller bearings.

A quirky design element are the carriage release levers. The one on the left is low and flat, while the right one sits up high. The purpose of this is a bit puzzling. At first, you might think they perform different functions. But, this has been the same design since the Leterra 22.

Overall, when it comes down to turning out page after page of manuscript, it’s hard not to fall in love with the Studio 44. It’s got the same great styling as the Lettera models, but with the solid feel of a standard desktop.