The past three and a half months I've been studying abroad in Cape Town, South Africa. Like many exchange students, I get the obligatory biweekly phone call from my mother, communicate with my peers via Gmail and occasionally utilize the ever-popular Skype. But distance from my family and friends has also rekindled my interest in another form of keeping in touch: letter-writing.
It's easy to think about the relationship between letters and literature. One only needs to reflect on the published letters of Sartre and Simone De Beauvoir, of Henry Miller and Anais Nin (not to mention the numerous examples of fiction written in letter-form) to relate books and these more personal notes.
Yet sometime during the perpetually evolving history of communication, the art of letter-writing started dying out. Part of it was certainly the telephone, part probably general declining readership. Now people use e-mails and Facebook messages, which avoid the personal contact of talking on the phone and also lack the length and development of written letters.
But part of me feels there's something about this archaic form of dialogue that deserves a comeback, even in these (supposedly) busy times. Although some think e-mailing can take the place of actually writing a letter, the expectance of a rapid turn-around means most people don't give a great deal of thought to their messages. Letters require telling stories and some level of creativity.
Talking on the phone isn't so much better. We often forget what we wanted to say and get taken on irrelevant tangents, which is great, but still lacks what a letter has: a message.
I can't say I've been great about keeping it up. I only write a few from each place I go to. Still, I only get responses on about half the letters I send out. The excuses are all pretty similar, having to do with lack of time or even paper.
Which brings me to another similarity between letters and literature. The same reasons people don't write or read letters are the same reasons they don't read books. Some blame the establishment of a more audio-visual communication structure, others the undeniable"" entertainment value of other forms of media. That is, reading and writing represent ""work.""
But to me, the problem is more with the demand for immediacy in our culture. If we want to hear from somebody, we want to hear from them now. If we want to get the point of an event, or a story, we want to get it as soon as possible, we don't want to have to think about it so it can sink in. Although some experts say this is because we're all big spoiled babies, a big part of it is also that we're led to believe that we genuinely don't have time for the frivolity of non-essential thought. Leisure time is eliminated, and so are forms of communication and networking that aren't ""efficient.""
So basically, the reason people don't write letters or read books isn't necessarily because they represent ""work,"" but because they represent a sort of time-consuming pleasure. Although I might love going to the post office and picking out a stamp, most think of it as inconvenient.
If letter-writing completely dies out, how will we learn about the steamy love affairs of thinkers of the future? And how will I fully describe to my mother the absurdity of sitting next to a stack of three cartons of baby chicks on a minibus to Mozambique?
If you don't have paper, an envelope, a stamp or the time to write a letter and mail it, e-mail Frances at provine@wisc.edu.
