There are so many reasons to keep the tradition alive, says Tom Hodgkinson

One of the many beautiful arts that Silicon Valley has killed off, in its infinite avarice, is letter-writing. Unlike emails, WhatsApp, texts and all the rest of it, letters are tactile, beautiful, individual. Every letter is different. A letter – particularly a hand-written one – oozes charm and personality.

There are academics out there who are devoted to the study of Keats’s letters, for example. I went to a lecture about them a few years ago. Each letter consisted of one sheet folded up into an envelope, and to save money, the poet would write in the margins, using up every bit of available space.

Even in the eighties, we were still writing letters. I have a few; sweet correspondences between teenage friends, containing drawings and jokes and silly lettering.

The ancient philosophers wrote letters to each other, and in fact the progress of all human civilisation was conducted by letter until very recently.

Letters had strict rules of courtesy. I remember being taught them at school. You must write “Dear X”, which I found strange as “dear” seemed to me to be a very affectionate way of greeting someone that you may never have met before. Then there were the sign-offs: “yours sincerely”, “yours truly”, “yours faithfully”.

There was the fun or possibly terror of receiving a letter. In Ivan Goncharov’s novel Oblomov, about a lazy Russian land-owner, the generally inert Oblomov family is thrown into a state of anxiety when a letter arrives at the house. For days, they dare not open it. They stare at it, shake it, and leave it lying around, wondering what on earth could be inside it.

I find it it so sad. What are future scholars going to do about the correspondence of famous writers? Will we buy books with titles like The Collected WhatsApps of Salman Rushdie? Selected Emails of Julian Barnes? I doubt it.

That’s why I am making a new year’s resolution to write more letters and postcards. I plan to start with thank you letters, a custom which thankfully still survives. But having got out of the habit, writing letters doesn’t seem so easy. You have to find paper or a card. A pen that works. An envelope. You have to find the address and postcode. Then a stamp must be located (and sadly our beautiful first and second class stamps are now disfigured with a bar code of all things).

Finally you have to take the letter to a postbox. That’s not easy. I tend to put the letter in the mirror in the hall where it says for a week. Then I put it in my jacket pocket and forget all about it. I then find it a week later when looking through my pockets for something else, but by now the letter has become sadly crumpled.

It was a slight comfort to read that this is not a new problem. In his essay “Rules for Letter Writing”, Lewis Carroll has the following advice: “When you take your letters to the Post, carry them in your hand. If you put them in your pocket you will take a long country walk (I speak from experience), and passing the Post-Office twice, going and returning, and, when you get home, you will find them still in your pocket.”

As for stamps, I aim to follow Nancy Mitford’s delightfully snobbish advice to use second class stamps. First class stamps, she said, make you look like you’re in a hurry, which is terribly vulgar. Second class stamps, then, are more idle. And they’re cheaper too.

What we need to do is to get everything prepared. We need notepaper and postcards, envelopes, ink pen and stamps. These should be kept together in a drawer in a desk.

Thus armed, writing a postcard actually takes no time at all, and when you think of the pleasure it will bring, well worth the effort. We occasionally receive a letter or postcard in the Idler office from a reader. We’re always delighted and the missive always goes straight onto the noticeboard (that will never happen with an email).

Do write back and give me your letter-writing tips and thoughts.

SELECTED COMMENTS

These comments were mailed to us after an earlier version of this piece was sent out as a newsletter. We like to publish a selection and reserve the right to edit them for clarity. Feel free to drop us a line with your thoughts.

Sir: Brilliant idea. Have you heard of East LA poet and artist Sesshu Foster?
Marcus Lyon

Sir: You probably already know this, but if you don’t want an ugly barcode on your stamps, you can still use “special” stamps (picture stamps), which are exempt from the barcode requirement. In my opinion, Paddington, Weather Forecasting, even Iron Maiden, are much more fun than a boring profile of a royal in blue or green. Unfortunately, most are first class.
Mary Frances Owens

Sir: I am not a keen user of the telephone and I do not partake in any of the modern forms of (un)social media. But I do write letters and I do send postcards. And I am a fan of email. First point: a fountain pen is essential. I use a Parker 51 with an italic nib (I have four): two purchased on a market in Ealing in the 1980’s and refurbished by Penfriend in Burlington Arcade and two further ones bought from Brian Toynton in Weston Super Mare and occasionally serviced by a gentleman in Glasgow. Always with Quink ink, either Permanent Black or Royal Blue the latter being favoured by my mother some 65 years ago as it is washable from small boys. A good nib is the key to a good pen. Paper needs to be carefully sourced as otherwise the ink soaks in (like blotting paper): I use a high grade Hewlett Packard printer paper (A4) which is perfect. Blotting paper is of course an added essential. I do write thank-you letters (even at my age I believe it encourages further presents!) and, because of the Black or Blue ink on the envelope , recipients know the letter is from me. I despise e-cards (usually into trash without opening) and try to send proper carefully chosen birthday cards. The most important letters are those marking a death and which I hear both directly and indirectly are much appreciated. In an odd sense, I enjoy writing these as it brings the loved one closer for a while. As for postcards, being retired and favouring the UK for holidays and short breaks, I send loads – perhaps 30 each trip away. These are usually classic “picture postcards” of our destination but I also carry a box of other cards (currently Winnie the Pooh cards which are better for the grandchildren and may encourage reading). I write across the entire card and use an envelope to send them – the message then does not get smudged in our damp climate. My children have caught the bug as have numerous of our friends who send me cards. Cards are then Blu-tacked in our kitchen-diner so we can admire them all through the year (we do not have a metal fronted ‘fridge so magnets are no use). It means I must carry the Parker 51 and ink on holiday. I think my wife of some 40 years regards me as a little eccentric. It must be said that I get enormous pleasure from writing letters and cards and from receiving them too. And I do enjoy the Idler.
Peter B Baker (Dr), Prestwood

Sir: I completely agree with bringing back letter writing and I am trying to embark on a nationwide campaign to do that. To this end I have produced a range of postcards and greetings cards. I believe it will help mental health, especially with the younger generation who only use social media.
Karen

Sir: I have made my necessary concessions to communications technology. Still, I have been told my texts read like emails, my emails read like letters, and my letters read like novels. I prefer handwritten notes whenever possible. I have been known to compose correspondence on a typewriter (I own several dating from 1906 to 1976), the ultimate proof of a leisurely approach to the use of time and energy. But who decided that the fewer words conveyed with the least sign of individuality or deliberation the better? Not I. Not ever. I may need to send a hand or typewritten missive your way in solidarity!
Gabriella

Sir: Your newsletter arrived as I was taking a break from sorting out boxes and boxes of personal stuff in my mother’s attic. (I’ve arrived back from my home in America to assist in the clearing out / ordering of 50 years of accumulation). Much of what I’ve been finding, stuffed into various shoeboxes, are letters, unseen for 30 or 40 years. Letters from friends with (as you say) little drawings and notes about where they were, what they were doing; letters from my patients (and, interestingly, from my younger self to them); letters from girlfriends. (These last I find painfully harrowing and shaming: they express delicate and nuanced thoughts and feelings that I’m certain, at the time, I was entirely incapable of reciprocating or even understanding, beer-addled thug that I was.) But back to the present – and my tip to Idlers is as follows: When you stay with someone, or even go to supper, write a thank you note by hand, and post it. It needs only be a well-chosen postcard with a couple of lines. Ideally you’d write with a good fountain pen (Mont Blanc) but even this is not essential, a good ballpoint is adequate. Because one gift that Silicon Valley has given us (to take the “glass half full” view) is that this simple act – taken for granted only a few years ago – has gone up in value faster than a bunch of shares in Microsoft. I find that people get almost giddy with gratitude and goodwill when they get a card. I often hear: “Thank you so much for that card. It’s so wonderful to get something hand-written. I wish more people did it.” So I pass that on for what it’s worth (confident that most Idlers reading this will never be arsed, so my card-writer’s stock will remain high!) And now I need to get back to my boxes, including those wonderful yellowing letters…
PS: Has anyone done any research on the extraordinary “flattening” effect of e-mail? One of its advantages is that you can, at this point, easily pull up messages sent 15 or 20 years ago. And yet the passage of time is visually eliminated: far from the yellowing, brittle paper of a rediscovered handwritten note, a message sent in, say, 2004 (perhaps even from someone now dead) looks exactly as if it arrived 10 minutes ago. This does strange things to the mind – do other readers agree?
Sylvanus Urban

Sir: A dear friend and I have not seen each other for over 20 years and yet we have remained constantly I touch through letter writing. We each have boxes and boxes of our missives.During the pandemic and lockdowns we kept each other buoyed up with our correspondence. We make and send card/letters. I bought a stack of card blanks, ie plain white card with a fold marked and an envelope. I like to make a quality print on good photo paper of a recent image which feels appropriate to the theme of what I want to tell her and she does something slightly different but similar in feel. It’s such a thrill to see the familiar handwriting on the usually a bit different from the usual envelope. We both feel exactly the same instant fillip. Thinking on this makes me want to go and make one. Now, what imagine shall I choose?
Suzanne Kline

Sir: There is one thing I might add to your ideas: if you really want to make sure that some information is getting to the person that you aim it for then always write a letter! Nowadays no other form of communication gets more attention. And if you have any complaints as to the treatment of a certain company (eg cell phone company) to their client (eg me), I always write a letter to their managing directors. It’s amazing that they almost always react instantly and very politely.
Michi

Sir: When discussing the aspects of letter-writing that have been marginalised by electronic communications one thing you forgot to mention was the actual ability to write. Thirty years ago my handwriting was passable: not particularly classy, but not bad. Since then I’ve increasingly only written hastily scrawled notes for myself. Consequently, on the rare occasions I want to write to another human the result is a barely legible mess, with one in three words misspelled and either corrected or crossed out.
Paul Dixon, East Hagbourne, Oxfordshire

Sir: I have returned to writing with a Waterman Pen on good quality paper and enjoy it as I always did before computers. Writing with a pen, as well as being satisfying physically, gives me time to ponder.
Simon and Julie in Morocco (great place to idle)

Sir: Here’s something I wrote September 10th, 2023 on the lost art of letter writing. Hope it resonates… https://www.bluewolfgallery.com/post/the-pen-is-mightier-than-the-keyboard
Michael

Sir: I couldn’t agree more with this, and I’ve been trying to get back into letter writing lately too. The problem is that hardly anybody is willing to allow 2 weeks (or more) to pass in between correspondence and everyone eventually gives up and just starts texting again. Anyway I actually wrote to say that you should look at the delightful things the Handwritten Letter Appreciation Society gets up to. https://thehandwrittenletterappreciationsociety.org/
Just the other week they took over a hundred submissions from around the world to a care home in the UK and distributed them to residents.
Cheers from Australia,
Nicole

Sir: Over the years I have always enjoyed receiving a handwritten letter with a stamp on it. Some were received with trepidation, not as dramatic as Oblomov, but when in the throes of a plot! I used to correspond with my dad after I moved down south to Brighton. He lived in Lancashire and we would wait to reply on receipt of the other’s news. This was early 2000’s but my dad never liked phones. In fact we never had one as kids. We would walk to the phone box up the street if there was an emergency. My dad’s letters were funny and full of quotes from favourites like Spike Milligan and Flann O’Brien, but they also detailed his decline. His falls and injuries and hospital visits. He treated bruises as badges and his dialogues with doctors as a battle. I still have the letters, some written on envelopes or whatever he could find at the time. He died, of brandy, in his sleep in 2007, it was the police not the post that told me. Still, it was a personal touch. I worked for Royal Mail for 14 years, so I refused to send Christmas cards as they bite into the fingers like frost. But I would write letters to far flung family members. It seems that mobiles and email relieves us of all of that now. No one is waiting for my news anymore. I’m not even on any of that social stuff, so maybe I miss out. Although I am sending this via… My favourite letter ever was from a friend when I was 18. I was in a jam, or a pickle, and ended up in a bail hostel in Birmingham. Joe had the forethought and care to take the time and write me a detailed exploit of that weekend’s activities back home. The one’s I was 100 miles away from. He was just trying to cheer me up and it worked. I kept that one too. I have a 35 year old piece of paper that still makes me laugh occasionally. I don’t see Joe anymore or catch up with him as a hologram.
AC Murphy

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