 
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
Sunday, July 09, 2000
When it comes to the subject of love, who isn't interested? We've long known it's what makes the world go round.
For some, it goes around more than once. For some, sadly, not at all; for others, maybe just once.
If it's right, once is enough.
But surely, a love letter, whether we wrote it or received it, can get our attention.
Recent films about love letters have included "Message in a Bottle" and "The Love Letter."
"You've Got Mail" addressed the modern online method as two people fall in love through their e-mail messaging. A.R. Gurney's play "Love Letters" has given the stage its moving moments.
Letters can be powerful.
"I love you. Still more than yesterday and less than I will tomorrow."
Wow.
"This is a lazy summer afternoon. Not even a breeze stirs a single leaf. I can't help thinking how lovely it would be with you and a canoe on a lake, or you and a sailboat. Or just you."
Get the picture?
Years ago, I was going through some boxes tucked away in a closet, and I came across what I always felt was the best letter I had ever received from a man. While recognizing we would never have made it as a man and wife, I cherished this letter written when we were both new to love. It was a letter worth saving.
Finding that letter inspired a feature for Valentine's Day many years ago, and I asked people to submit special love letters of their own. I was so touched by the responses.
Because of that article, I was recently contacted by a woman, Raina Moore, who is compiling a book, "Love Letters of a Lifetime: Romance in America."
The letters, she says, are not expected to be literary masterpieces. "I want more down-to-earth portrayals of romance in the modern world," she says, "and so far I have received self-styled wedding vows, e-mails and poems from college students, retirees and people serving in the military."
She's excited. She herself has a long-distance romance. Charlie lives in London, and she is in New York. They communicate by letters and phone.
"The letters we share are wonderful and made me realize there are tons of these remarkable pieces of history stored in drawers and shoe boxes all over the world.
"People seem surprised there is interest in letter-writing, as if the phone had somehow replaced romance. You can't touch a phone call."
So much for "Reach out and touch someone." I'm with Raina.
Picking a card or stationery, maybe touching it with perfume or sealing it with wax, and certainly your own style of handwriting can't be compared to words vocally zooming along phone lines.
"We have to accept the computer age, so we are seeing a shift in how words are written," says Raina. "E-mail messages tend to be shorter bursts of emotion, while paper letters can be quite long. What hasn't changed with the new technology is the sentiment."
Raina feels that love is alive and well, despite cynicism. She wants to show what kinds of romantic love have come before and what is happening right now. She's looking for letters about new love, impossible love, love under adversity, second-time love and, yes, couples who have met and correspond online.
She doesn't want anyone to part with an original letter, so photocopies are fine. All those submitting letters should include a few words about themselves and a way to reach them. Send to Raina Moore, c/o Bill Adler Books, 551 Fifth Ave., New York, NY 10176; Web site, www.adlerbooks.com.
So far, Raina has been pleasantly surprised by the quality of the letters coming in.
"We're not looking for Shakespeare. We're looking for honest portrayals of everyday love. On the average, men tend to be more romantic than women, which I assume is because they are not usually openly affectionate and letters are the outlet."
The youngest person to share a love letter is a young man, age 19. A granddaughter sent one that was written by her grandmother in 1922.
"The handwriting is so arabesque, it is difficult to read some of the long-ago letters," says Raina, "but we try."
She hopes to finish the book this summer, for publication next February.
Valentine's Day, perhaps?