The last hand-written letter I received was from a dear friend who lives in Thailand, having worked with me in the Middle East. When was the last time you wrote or received a hand-written letter? One in five children in the UK has never received a handwritten letter, according to a survey published in 2010 by children’s charity World Vision.
Johnny worked with me in the Middle East. A gourmet chef, keeping the troops fed and trying to keep everyone happy with their bespoke choice of food. It’s hard to please everyone, and then comes along an inexperienced Arab ‘manager’, Abdulkhaliq, and axed the budget. Hence started the mutiny! However, Johnny, an ex-private in the British Army did what he could and was a amiable chap indeed. We did forgive him for being from Wales — probably explains the breath of dishes he could make. Once we parted ways, he sent me a letter. Being a chef, his skills are with a knife and perhaps not a pen, so he decided to type a letter. The letter was quite long, but I still hold on to it, because of the novelty of receiving a letter in an era where a half-baked whatsapp message seems to be accepted as the modern form of communication.
When did you last write or receive a letter? How many children / young adults / adults even know how to address a letter? The format? And the ending? What is “Kind Regards?”…next time you write this nonsensical phrase, just have a think what is means and why you are writing it. Letters ended with Yours faithfully, Yours sincerely, Yours, and so on and so forth. Whichever ‘foreigner’ came up with ‘Kind regards” needs to go back to the USA and learn a different language, as obviously English is not their strength.
During the war, hand written letters were the mode of communication. Spouses would be glad to receive them, knowing their loved ones were alive. Of course, to avoid breach of confidentiality, letters were vetted and key information literally cut out before sending on to the recipient. I saw many of these war-time letters and they are lovely. Depth of feeling, emotionally charged and very personal. Johnny didn’t opt for such a romantic letter to me thank the Lord, but it was just as kind and thoughtful.
The handwriting in war time letters was so elegant, the ink from a fountain pen, and care was taken not to make a mistake. The current generation hold pens incorrectly, poor handwriting and wouldn’t be able to string a sentence together without making a spelling mistake. Fine handwriting has been a lost art for some time, and nowadays letter writing itself is a fading practice!
I read several global newspapers daily, and one of my favourites is Le Figaro. Le Figaro recently bemoaned that “many have lost their love for the pen, the scent of the ink and the softness of the paper”.
Here is a quote from 1858, from My Lady Ludlow by Elizabeth Gaskell. “I am an old woman now, and things are very different to what they were in my youth….Then letters came in but three times a week: indeed, in some places in Scotland where I have stayed when I was a girl, the post came in but once a month; — but letters were letters then; and we made great prizes of them, and read them and studied them like books. Now the post comes rattling in twice a day, bringing short jerky notes, some without beginning or end, but just a little sharp sentence, which well-bred folks would think too abrupt to be spoken.”
I grew up writing letters. They were a big part of making me an enthusiastic writer today, I think. As a child there were thank you letters, of course, ruining the long weeks after Christmases and birthdays. And postcards. Letters to Blue Peter, and — now tainted — letters to Jim’ll Fix It. (I wanted to visit a chocolate factory).
The introduction of the civic service, named the ‘Penny Post’ in 1840 enabled an affordable postal communication system, available for all classes and destinations for a penny stamp. This superseded the old postal system that was unregulated, the price was inconsistent and determined by the number of miles the letter travelled (not always by the quickest route) and the sheets of paper used.
The old postal system saw the burden of payment falling on the receiver and not the sender, it being seen as a social slur if a pre-paid letter was delivered to your door! If the recipient could not pay on receipt of the letter, it was returned. Therefore, only the select few had the privilege of written communication and it is easy to see how people lost touch who couldn’t afford the price of receiving a letter when living in different towns and villages. The Penny Post basically revolutionised the postal system as it allowed for all classes of people to send their mail, not just the social elite.
I kept many letters just like ladies keep shoes or children keep football stickers. I kept writing letters throughout my time at university and even when I was working overseas. I enjoyed writing them and receiving them. I remember at university, the advent of the e-mail. I had no clue how this worked and spent months never answering e-mail for the fear of how much I would be charged by the university (much like a stamp). When eventually I figured out that this was a free service, I couldn’t stop writing e-mail to everyone I knew and to people overseas. Alas! A cheap way to send letters, and coming and checking the e-mails a few times a week to find responses to my ‘letters’ was most satisfying.
Over time, the length of e-mails and the content has shrunk, into a few lines. I feel no-one has the time to write nice notes any longer. And with junk apps such as Whatsapp, the messages have been abbreviated codes. We sit with phones in our hands all day long, but don’t seem to have time to pen a letter to anyone on an e-mail. Strange.
Looking forward to the post is a non-event. It’s bills, Dominos pizzas on offer, or propaganda from the local young school drop-out who wants to be the local MP looking for support. Other bills, communication, Christmas wishes, birthday messages are all on e-mail, Facebook, Whatsapp or other online platforms.
My family used to get many Christmas cards every year. Now, Christmas cards can cost 5p each, stamps cost 15 times more; so what is the incentive. Hence, online wishes. The ridiculous cost of postage has not helped the cause. Delays in postage and recorded delivery becoming the norm has meant the trust in Royal Mail going down the pan. E-mail with attachments are quicker, and much more reliable. And I absolutely support this initiative as it has saved me alot of time and even more money, just as calls on Whatsapp has saved me a fortune. My bitterness maybe comes down to loss of what was a beautiful way to communicate with one another. Perhaps people wouldn’t cherish letters like we and older generations did. Now, unless there is a £20 note in a birthday card, children don’t even want it.
But these differences between letters and emails are just that: differences. One is not better or worse than the other. In many ways, the differences hold in microcosm the wider cultural shift away from reading in print to reading on screen. For some people, there will always be something more transient about the latter. There is an astonishing wealth of information on the devices we carry around with us — a wealth that should be celebrated — but it can be difficult to concentrate on one piece of information at a time; to read a single article or book with the kind of deep, measured concentration that seems to come more naturally with print. A printed book stays on your shelf, and can be bookmarked, annotated, flicked through, shared. I know, I know: these things are all possible with digital devices, and they may come naturally to some people. This might just be me. But you don’t have to be an ink-sniffing stationery fetishist to think that perhaps the technology of the printed book is more durable and user-friendly than some people have started to give it credit for.
Letters are written with such greater consideration and, I believe, come from a deeper consciousness. It is only when you create the opportunity of writing a letter that all the things you have to say reveal themselves, safe in the knowledge that the recipient won’t, and can’t, reply immediately but will also have time to reflect on what they want to say in return.
I worry that there are generations of people who will never know the thrill of seeing a letter on their mat, with their name written in the handwriting of someone they love, even a family member. They won’t have a biscuit tin or hat box under their bed full of letters that speak like ghosts of people they’ve been. We are so busy connecting digitally with as many people as possible that we’re forgetting how to communicate at all. When we shuffle off the mortal coil, will the transcript of our lives just rot on a memory stick somewhere?
Pick up a pen today and write to someone you love or have lost touch with, and I promise you won’t regret it. And if you write to me, I promise I’ll write back. To each and every one.
