It’s true that very few of us write letters anymore, but perhaps it’s because we don’t have the essential letter-writing manual to help us find the right words.
They didn’t have that problem back in the mid-1700s. No, those lucky people had access to a book written by Samuel Richardson. He clearly believed his letter-writing abilities were second to none but he wasn’t great at coming up with pithy book titles. This particular gem is called: Letters Written To And For Particular Friends On The Most Important Occasions, Directing Not Only The Requisite Style And Forms To Be Observed In Writing Familiar Letters; But How To Think And Act Justly And Prudently In The Common Concerns Of Human Life.
It’s entirely possible we’ve all written shorter letters than the title of this book.
I found the book on archive.org – that non-profit digital library with millions of old or out-of-print books that you can read for free. The copy I read was the third edition, which suggests there was a big demand for Richardson’s letters.
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But as his letters were so weirdly specific, you would wonder who could possibly benefit from them. There is a letter written by a woman’s admirer who greatly resents her fondness for a monkey. It’s safe to say no one has ever found themselves in need of guidance to write that letter.
The title of the letter says the writer is humorously resenting the attention given to the monkey, but he is clearly fuming about this turn of events. He even offers to fight the monkey in order to obtain the woman’s favour.
Another letter tackles the age-old problem of your son buying a horse too early in life. The poor son gets a lengthy lecture on how owning a horse might unhinge his mind from business and encourage his servants to down tools while he spends time with the animal.
Indeed, many lectures are delivered in this book of letters. A brother is lectured for talking too much about his wife and children and is advised to keep his children’s little whimsies to himself.
A daughter is lectured for thinking of taking “a frothy French lover”. But what’s the point in taking a French lover if he is not frothy, you may reasonably ask.
And a niece is lectured for not dressing in a more feminine manner. “I have been particularly offended, let me tell you, my dear, at your new riding-habit,” the uncle harrumphs. “For you look nothing like a model girl in it nor an agreeable boy.” He helpfully advises her men are not charmed by masculine-looking women. Just in case he has not completely crushed her spirit, he also cautions her against being bold, talkative and assured in company.
James Joyce was a great man for writing letters but I doubt he ever needed to consult this letter-writing manual. Some of his letters conveying his lusty thoughts to Nora Barnacle would have had Samuel Richardson reaching for his smelling salts, but others can safely be reproduced in a family newspaper.
They include the one written in 1921 to his great champion and patron, Harriet Shaw Weaver, outlining some of the myths that have surrounded him.
“My family in Dublin believe that I enriched myself in Switzerland during the war by espionage work for one or both combatants,” he tells her.
The people of Trieste think he is a cocaine addict because he walks the same 20-minute route every day, while Dubliners believe he has broken down and is dying in New York. Someone else declares that Joyce owns a string of theatres across Switzerland.
Another rumour deems him to be a crazy fellow who always carries four watches and rarely speaks except to ask what time it is.
He seemed to knock great sport out of these rumours, perhaps believing the Oscar Wilde maxim that the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.
I found that letter in the book Funny Letters from Famous People, compiled by Charles Osgood. It includes a 1963 letter from US president John F Kennedy to a boy who is seeking his views on leprechauns.
The president notes that the 10-year-old boy’s questions are quite pertinent, coming as they do just before St Patrick’s Day.
While there were many legends about the “little people”, he says the kernel of it all is that if you really believe in them, you will see them.
He tells the boy his “little people” are most friendly “and their message is that all the peoples of the world should live in peace and friendship”.
It’s hard to imagine the current incumbent of the White House giving such a playful yet thoughtful response.
