Love own lettezs o yore

Classic love letters and our emergence
into a contemporary age of ‘luv’

By Natalie Serafini, Editor-in-Chief

L°* is possibly amongst the most difficult sentiments to
articulate, and yet one of the most ardently, passionately, and
profusely expressed. In trying to communicate our love, sometimes
the words get tangled up in strong emotions, tripped over as we try
to tell how we feel.

This seems truer than ever in the age of quick texts and emojis.
Saying you love someone has become as simple and simplistic as a
heart emoji, sent hurriedly along with a not-so-verbose “i luv u.”

Maybe it was equally as overwhelming a task back when
expressing adulation required pen, ink stub, and a carrier pigeon,
but we seem increasingly inept and unprepared as we trek further
and further into a digital age. There’s nothing that says we can’t
send the love letters of yore, typed on tiny iPhone screens, but
why would people put in the effort when it’s easier to send your
sweetheart a heart and eggplant emoji? Even Valentine’s Day
cards, the epitome of all things sweet ‘n’ saccharine, are generally
predicated ona pun, a rhyme, or a half-hearted yet heartfelt joke—
and are moments away from the trashcan.

John Walsh of the Independent asked, “Have we lost the art
of writing love letters?” He writes of the classic ones, then turns
his attention to more recent love letters and their flaws: “The
classic love letters of the last two centuries, however, have been
those of poets, playwrights, and novelists, and their theme is
tiresomely formulaic. Whether it’s John Keats worshipping Fanny
Brawne ... Victor Hugo rhapsodizing over Adele Foucher ... or
Oscar Wilde in raptures over Bosie Douglas ... the theme has been
transcendence—the insistence that the loved one inhabits a higher
plane of being than the normal run of mankind.”

While I'll agree with Walsh that love letters ain’t what they
used to be, I don’t know that I take offence at the amorous and
transcendent nature of the more recent letters. His reference to the
more humorous, genuine, and at times “flagrantly pornographic
letters” (in the case of James Joyce—read on for more) do sound
more unique than the wealth of more alike contemporary ones.
Nonetheless, I think the larger problem with love letters these days
is that they aren’t getting written at all.

So, what are the classic letters that we can look to for
inspiration? And are we even capable of applying that inspiration
in our world of bite-sized texts, written at intersections and
intermissions?

joy

tN
ms
a

mM

The “dirty letters”

 

 

Who's afraid of
Virginia Woolf?

 

 

 

Remember those “flagrantly
pornographic letters” that I
mentioned from James Joyce?
They were about Nora Barnacle,
and you can bet your ass I'll be
getting into their story here.

Barnacle was reportedly the
one who began their exchange
of lusty letters, and indeed their
lust-filled love life. She was
quite the saucy lady, as Brenda
Maddox of the Guardian writes.
Joyce referred to Barnacle as
“my strange-eyed whore,” likely
in part due to her indulgence
in erotic fantasies, which she
would pen and send to him.

I blush at the thought of
recording their correspondence
here, but let’s suffice to say they
liked it kinky, and end on this
sign-off in Joyce’s letter from
December 2, 1909: “Nora, my
faithful darling, my sweet-eyed
blackguard schoolgirl, be my
whore, my mistress, as much
as you like (my little frigging
mistress! My little fucking
whore!) you are always my
beautiful wild flower of the
hedges, my dark-blue rain-
drenched flower. — JIM”

 

In addition to being a beautiful
writer, Virginia Woolf was the
recipient of some beautiful

love letters from her lover and
long-time friend, Vita Sackville-
West. BrainPickings.org reports
that Woolf’s novel Orlando

was based on Sackville-West,
and that Sackville-West’s son
has referred to the book as “the
longest and most charming love
letter in literature.”

The two were never able to
be together publicly, particularly
with the age of prevalent
homophobia, and the two were
married to men. Nonetheless,
their letters, with Woolf asking
Sackville-West to “throw over
your man,” speak to a great love.
Here’s a portion of Sackville-
West's beautiful letter to Woolf:
“I miss you even more than I
could have believed; and I was
prepared to miss you a good
deal. So this letter is really just
a squeal of pain. It is incredible
how essential to me you have
become. I suppose you are
accustomed to people saying
these things. Damn you, spoilt
creature; I shan’t make you love
me any more by giving myself
away like this—But oh my dear,
I can’t be clever and stand-offish
with you: I love you too much
for that. ... you have broken
down my defences. And I don’t
really resent it.”