The lost art of letter writing

In my brief but daily news reading I came across an article on the BBC discussing how Charles Darwin's letters (over 5,000 of them) are being archived on the web for all to read.  It was a quick reminder of how the convenience of e-mail has taken away some of the artistry that a good hand-written letter frequently brought out in us.

"Letters were absolutely essential to what Darwin was doing," said Dr Pearn. "This is how he gathered data, how he gathered ideas, how he discussed ideas."

While they were essential to Darwin's scientific endeavors, they were also vital to his personal life.  The letters published by Cambridge offer insight not only into his correspondences with fellow naturalists, but also his colorful personality.

Darwin was a prolific letter writer, exchanging correspondence with nearly 2,000 people during his lifetime (1809-1882). Nearly 14,500 of his letters are known to exist, with the biggest collection residing in Cambridge.

Now I've probably written that many e-mails and text messages in the past four months, but it's hard to conceive that hardly any of them will be worth archiving and being read by the masses one day.  And I don't think that it's just because I'll obviously never have the far-reaching influence that Darwin did.  It's because the over-abundance of available means for communication has created a culture of shorthand, expediency, and poor grammar.  Even my correspondence with professors and intellectuals of various backgrounds are often nothing but brief, pragmatic fragments that only include capitalized letters when something REALLY needs attention.

It's ironic that the same technology that has granted us access to appreciate these letters has also contributed to the art form's demise.

I doubt that any of the leading scientists or other great minds of today will have many of his or her correspondences passed down for later generations to read, even though the massive data holders that are personal computers have every ability of preserving every letter an individual has ever crafted.  I simply think that they no longer offer what these hand-written letters of yesteryear do: they give no insight into the heart of the individual, but rather simply their daily tasks and diversions.

There is a certain quality that a hand-written letter possesses: something that embodies the time and care one took to write it, the way the handwriting exemplifies the excitement or hostility with which it was written, the way that a piece of paper, by virtue of its gradual disintegration, captures time.  Perhaps it is the impossibility of reproduction, or just the tangible signs that it was crafted by a real person.  I think, too, that we have a tendency to take more care with a formally written letter than we do with a quickly typed one, even when discussing trivial matters.  I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to typing my thank-yous in Microsoft Word and sending my invitations on evite.

And perhaps all is not lost and I am being overly sentimental.  I do, on occasion, write long and heartfelt e-mails that I put a lot of myself into.  Their value is not less because they are made of kilobytes and not ink.  But to maintain that level of earnestness is, as with all life in our digital age, a struggle. 

Comments

[Brett Swanson]

Letters are lovely. With facebook and all, it almost seems like Email is sometimes going out of fashion (when it comes to communication between peers about non-business things). This is sad because the spaces on facebook et al. for writing are (like this comment box) small and encourage shorter, quicker writings.

In my past, I've had a few very good email-pals: People you share stories with constantly, detailed tales about your daily life within the context of revealing your worldview, so that you can create a sort of mythology of the life you're living. It helps you appreciate the life you've lived And encourages you to live a better one (so you have more interesting things to talk about).

These email pals were invariably female and, at some point to some level, in love with me. When they became settled in their relationships with other boys (or turned into 'asexual quasi-nuns', the emails quickly dried up.

I didn't quite realize the nature of this phenomenon until the past year or two. I was all, like 'where'd they go?' and a bit bitter until I realized that they'd lost that little extra kick inside of 'em that made writing me an energizing thing.

I'd like to have such e-mail pals again, perhaps even male ones or ones not connected to romantic emotion in any way, but I don't quite know how one gets started anymore.

I suppose the closest I've come recently to this kind of interaction is commenting on a few others' blogs...This tends to be heavier on theory and lighter on the personal, which is fine, but leaves out that certain building up of a tone and language between yourself and another that can be so thrilling and fulfilling.

I don't agree with all the handwringing about the beauty of the handwritten letter, perhaps because my handwriting is that of a satanic chicken with a broken toe.

[brian scofield]

Thanks for taking the time to write, Brett (now if you'd only update your own journal!). There is little mystery as to why romantic or erotic longing inspire the best and most dear letters. They inspire most art of any kind, really. Beyond trying to keep lovely letter writing alive, it's difficult to keep those deep and sincere friendships alive as well. But perhaps one can serve the other. I've found that mostly what it takes is a dedication on one person's part to keep the back-and-forthness alive... If one person writes thoughtfully and sincerely, the other usually feels compelled to do the same. I for one am guilty of taking far too long to return letters because I worry more about writing the correct thing than I do writing it at all. The important thing is to take the time to write the letter in the first place. You've inspired me, perhaps I'll write a couple of those long-overdue emails this afternoon. It's in writing these types of letters, as it is when having the best of conversations, that you unwrap and discover many of the best thoughts that lie within you. Another reason I love more "formal" blogging...

And yes, comment boxes and facebooks and myspaces and text messenging are all contributing to the death of the genuine conversation and dialog. But the one bright side is that it does inspire more wit and great one-liners and inside jokes! Methinks that is no substitute, however.