Letters

Last year I read a novel called Ahab’s Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund.  It is the fictitious tale of a woman who married Captain Ahab of Moby Dick. This all took place, of course, in the height of the whaling industry in New England and on the high seas, and so of course there was no email, no phones, not even the current state of the US Mail.  Ahab’s wife and her lovers communicated through long letters that took months, even years to reach their recipients.

I’m so accustomed to the instant gratification of an email now that if I don’t receive a quick response, I do weird things to figure out why.  I check the person’s Twitter stream to see if she’s out of town or really busy or hasn’t been online for a while or is just ignoring me.  I fuss over following up.  Or I forget entirely, and when I do get a response I’m surprised.

When I read Naslund’s book I felt nostalgic for the age of written letters, some that were such works of art that they are now preserved in archives.  I can hardly imagine an email being displayed at a museum (although that does bring to mind the fancy collage board of printed emails that my friend’s sister made to display at her wedding to our other friend after they met on Match.com, corresponded by email for a time, then dated and fell in love).  But even as I fondly remember creating and receiving carefully thought out letters from friends, lovers, and dear family, I do not miss the waiting for a reply.  At all.

Then again, some things are worth waiting for.  Even a hastily written email, depending on the contents or the sender.  Now it’s so much easier to send someone a photo, or to check their blog and see what they’ve been up to and the pictures that go with their stories.  No waiting for developed pictures, or printing doubles to send in a letter.  Just take a photo and text it to someone.  Awesome.

People take our electronic communication so for granted now.  The thoughtfulness that is required when putting an actual pen to physical paper is missing in so many emails.  I try to think my words through when I write, and sometimes I rebel and embrace the format and its immediacy.  Sometimes I take great care, and sometimes I just say “Fuck it” and dash off a text.  It’s nice to have choices, and even nicer to choose something different now and then.

Note:  I sat down to write a post about cloth diapers vs. disposable diapers.  This is what came out.  I don’t think that kind of change-up would have happened with a pen and some notebook paper.  Just sayin’.

[Photo by Kriss Szkurlatowski via sxc.hu]