Long live the love letter
Napoleon Bonaparte would not have been checking his Twitter feed when he wrote to Josephine, “Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.”
The recent death of Gabriel García Márquez reminds us of how the art of writing has always been tied to love.
Long have we idolized the envelopes that memorialize the love between Florentino and Fermina in “Love in the Time of Cholera.” Long have we cherished the climatic moment of “Pride and Prejudice,” where Mr. Darcy confesses himself in writing to Elizabeth Bennet. Long have we treasured the coded poems passed to the Nijo Lady in “The Tale of Genji.” Since the birth of language, love and self-expression have been deeply entangled. Indeed, for as long as people have been writing, people have been filling up letters with love.
Letter writing forces us to organize and craft the way that we share our feelings. Even a bumbling, lovesick fool can sound eloquent if he spellchecks. In fact, prior to the modern era, many such lovesick fools sustained their relationships through writing, since letters used to be the only way to maintain communication. Before 20th century developments in transportation, a letter was the best way to close the distance between two people due to the arduous and time-consuming nature of travel. Perhaps most importantly, when mail was expensive and transportation horribly slow, every letter was high-stakes, and each word was carefully chosen. Every syllable had to count.
However, such overtures are now relics of the past. Modern communication has eliminated the pressure to choose our words wisely. Instead of pulling out our stationary, we send an email, text, or Facebook message; such technology has rendered youth void of romantic expression. For example, as a high school junior, I see some variation of the following all the time.
Person A: I’ve been meaning to ask you — You wanna hang oot friday? Person A: *ot Person A: *out Person A: 9 PM sound good? Person B: Kk. Oh, cruel world! Romance has died with the love letter. There is no need to be careful with our words because there is no price — emotional or literal — that comes with them. We don’t know how to write, let alone woo.
I invite you to be the exception to the rule.
If you want to make an indelible gesture of love, or simply to break the modern mold of apathy, grab a pen, do as Florentino did and burn yourself alive with every line.