Fournier - Nº 39 - Marca "Titi" (1962 Copy + Comparison)
I recently picked up an older printing of Fournier’s Nº 39 "Marca Titi". Although we already covered a modern version of this deck in an earlier post, I didn't want to pass on sharing this one, as the differences between the two are well worth a look.
As noted in the main review, this model has been present in Fournier’s catalogue since at least the 1930s. The 5 of Swords on this copy displays the tax stamp corresponding to the 1956–1964 period, as well as the numeric code 72962 (likely for internal quality control). While this number could indicate a manufacturing date, I have seen similar codes on other decks where that was clearly not the case. Be that as it may, this pack dates to the late 1950s or early 1960s; for the sake of simplicity, let's just place it around 1962.
The modern edition covered in the earlier post carries a © 2023 mark on the back of the title card, placing its manufacturing date no earlier than that year.
Now, let's explore how more than fifty years of technological evolution have shaped a deck that is, theoretically, the exact same product.
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To start, a quick note on materials and methods. Using a digital caliper and a ruler with 0.5 mm increments, I measured the three dimensions of ten cards per deck. I then weighed ten cards from each pack using a precision digital scale. Below is an overview of these measurements:
Now onto the best part: analyzing the data. What stands out most is the density paradox: the 1962 pack is thicker but lighter, while the 2023 version is thinner but heavier. This points to modern cardstock being more tightly compressed than its 1960s counterpart. It's likely that the treatment of the paper core and modern varnish coatings add this extra weight despite reducing overall thickness.
The modern deck is remarkably uniform. Almost every card weighs the exact same, and we see a cutting tolerance of barely 0.2 mm. In 1962, the variability was considerably higher, both in terms of weight and dimensions.
This data confirms what becomes immediately obvious when handling them. The 1962 deck feels spongier and more flexible owing to its greater thickness and lighter weight, whereas the new one is stiffer and feels more "metallic". Furthermore, the extra weight of the modern cards—despite their slimmer profile—is equally evident to the ear. When dropped onto a playing mat or shuffled, the 2023 cards make a sharp, heavy clack with an almost crystalline ring. By contrast, the 1962 cards have a duller, more velvety thud, revealing a less densely compressed fiber structure.
It's worth noting that some of the 1962 deck’s reduced weight can probably be attributed to evaporation. Paper is an organic material that "breathes". Over the course of six decades, the cellulose fibers shed most of their residual moisture, rendering the cards lighter and more brittle over time.
Lastly, the variance in tolerance (± 0.5 mm compared to ± 0.2 mm) reflects the technological shift at the Vitoria plant. In 1962, they were almost certainly using pressure guillotines on full sheet stacks, which always yields minor alignment shifts. Modern cutting utilizes laser technology or individual die-cutting, resulting in near-perfect uniformity. When held on edge, the 1962 deck has a pleasantly imperfect aesthetic, whereas the new one looks like a solid block of marble—each offering its own distinct appeal.
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Turning now to the visual side of things, the background shade of the cards is immediately striking—crisp white on the new deck versus an off-white hue on the older one. Though decades of patina account for part of this difference, its uniform tone indicates that, even straight out of the factory, the 1962 cards had a natural warmth absent from today's heavily bleached, "hospital white" stock.
The modern edition exhibits much a more saturated palette. Yet, contrary to what one might expect, its colors are not necessarily more solid or uniform. Though the older tones are softer, they reveal an impressive consistency under magnification. As with the paper stock, this suggests that it's less about natural fading over six decades and more about a core difference in the chemical composition and pigment concentration used at the time.
To wrap up this section, let’s look at the printing execution. Linework quality is extremely high in both versions, rendering them almost identical at first glance. Under magnification, however, we can see that the gently imperfect strokes—which impart a hand-painted character to the 1962 deck—turn slightly more rigid and angular in the modern printing. To be fair, these details are only noticeable under close inspection and by no means diminish the modern deck's quality. Lastly, the stippling on the court figures' hair and horses' fur exhibits an organic variation in the older edition that is partially lost to the almost mathematical precision of the modern dotwork.
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While the broad tactile and visual differences can be inferred from what we have covered so far, a few specific details are worth highlighting. The older deck has a dense matte finish that gives the visual impression of a coarse or rough texture. In actuality, nothing could be further from the truth—they feel remarkably smooth and offer a more than respectable slide.
If I had to point out a drawback of these older cards, it is that the stock retains memory—if handled carelessly, they tend to warp quite easily (though, truth be told, nobody is using this deck for a competitive games night). As for the modern edition, its exceptional satin finish and ridiculously good glide were covered in the previous review, and it’s exactly what is expected from Fournier today; I only reiterate it here to highlight the contrast within this side-by-side comparison.
Coins
Cups
Swords
Batons
Card Back
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