Wednesday 15 August 2012

Post

Over the last few months I've been thinking a lot about post and I'm not talking here about what I am writing on my blog. I'm talking about real post! Nor am I talking about post that comes in the guise of real post but isn't - you know what I mean, those piles of junk mail and catalogues in horrible, polythene sleeves that clunk heavily and deceptively through the letterbox, treacherously raising expectations that something interesting has arrived but quickly giving way to disappointed realisation that it hasn't. No, I'm talking about real post that comes not in polythene or even workaday brown envelopes with translucent paper windows but in much more beguiling, windowless, handwritten envelopes. Post that goes or comes out of the blue. Not necessarily predictably, say at birthdays or Christmas but for no other reason than, well, just because.

Two people have alluded to real post of this kind on their blogs recently and opened interesting and intriguing avenues of thought. You may have read their posts yourselves already but if you haven't, have a look; one is Annie at Knitsofacto in her post here about letters written home from her great-great-great uncle while on military service in South Africa in the late 1870s. Letters all the more poignant for their expressed longing for the home he never arrived back to. The other is Judy at I read-I sewed-I crocheted in her post here in which she reflects on the red post boxes that are so distinctive a feature of the British landscape and many of which have been in use for well over a century. As Judy points out, these little red boxes have received into their dark interiors not just bills and official communications in their time, but all people's outpourings of the heart, their news and gossip, invitations and reminiscences and conversations, big and small, in the days before convenient, but evanescent, electronic and telephonic media took the place of snail mail. And at the height of the postal system's glory days in the late 19th / early 20th C you might reasonably expect to receive several deliveries of post a day - at least once in the early morning by breakfast and again some time in the afternoon.

Of course postal deliveries several times a day are a refinement that is long gone but nevertheless snail mail still works and childish though it may sound, I love using it - both to send and to receive. I particularly get a thrill at posting abroad, especially far away and love both the sophistication and simplicity of a system that means I can put an envelope (or even better a parcel) in the little old Victorian letterbox that is set in the wall down the road and know that in a week or so it will turn up in Texas say or North Carolina.


In fact I don't know whether I get more of a thrill from being the one doing the posting or the one receiving post when it comes! Not much in it probably!

When I arrived back from holiday last week I coincidentally and unrelatedly found three interesting pieces of snail mail waiting for me and I can't tell you what a lift to the spirits they were. All three were surprises and all three contained handwritten letters along with other delightful handmade contents. And my enormous delight at the contents was matched by my enormous delight at the letters. Different paper, different envelopes, different handwriting, different sentiments but the common thread was a tangible gesture of friendship and connection hard to beat. Don't get me wrong - I don't want to knock electronic communication - for a start all three unexpected pieces of snail mail were from people I've "met" through blogging; I use electronic communication all the time and mighty convenient it is too; I love writing this blog and being able to read others' blogs and contribute to the conversation that follows in the comments section whenever I can; but there is still something just so lovely about snail mail, especially the unexpected sort.

My parents are enthusiastic genealogists - many of my childhood holidays were spent poking around in ancient English churchyards trying to decipher crumbling inscriptions to locate long dead relatives in their final resting places, an activity which neither my sister nor I relished much, if at all. More interesting, for me anyway, are the hoard of photographs and letters that my parents have collected from all sides of the family, some of them going back to the beginning of the 19th C. My mother showed me a letter this week that I thought I would share with you as this post is about post. It's from the French side of my family written in 1852 from my great-great-great grandmother, Anaïs Préaud, to her sister Augustine. The letter is written on very thin paper about six inches square and Anaïs' six-year old daughter, Marie, my great-great grandmother, has written her own message to her aunt on the back.



As Ecclesiastes says profoundly truthfully (if a little cynically), "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

Just as we 21st C bloggers like to send one another little handmade surprises, the Victorians did too. A hundred and sixty years ago Anaïs was sending her sister, along with her letter, a little something she had made her. I'd love to know what she'd made but it was almost certainly needlework. She writes "Je t'envoie ci inclus un échantillon de mon savoir-faire. Je te prie de l'agréer comme un petit souvenir d'amitié. J'y ai travaillé avec un bien grand plaisir et je souhaite qu'il te plaise." "I enclose a sample of my skill. I hope you will accept it as a little token of affection. I very much enjoyed working on it and I hope you like it." She goes on to ask her sister for a fashion update on embroidery over "pagoda sleeves" and "musketeer collars" which she isn't sure she knows how to do.

On the reverse, little Marie has written in an exquisite hand, that I am very sure I could not have emulated when I was aged six, that she wishes her "lovely niece-spoiling aunt a happy year and good health" and she sends her "a big hug". She signs it off "la petite nièce bien obéissante avec toi, Marie Préaud" One wonders whether she was not always totally "obéissante" with her "petite mère" but saved "obéissance" up for her favourite niece-spoiling aunt!

A huge thank you again to my three bloggy friends for the entrancing surprises they sent me - I treasure them and the letters that accompanied them and perhaps one day, in the next century, I will have a great-great-great granddaughter who will find them among my things and wonder at the friendship that blogging unlocked in 2012.







20 comments:

  1. There is nothing like a letter. When I lived in NZ for a few years it was the letters that kept me going. They make the most delicious thud as they land on the doorstep.

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  2. What a lovely post Elizabeth! I know exactly what you mean about post - I still have a childish excitement when I check on the post (if i can beat my 6yr old to the front door, so undignified of me I know!!!!). Looking forward to seeing what was in all your parcels x PS - I think I have the worst writing!!!!!!

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    1. Not a bit of it! And as for the contents ... - I'm still admiring your skill and pondering on how best to show it off! E x

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  3. Dear E
    Another lovely post and thank you for sharing that wonderful letter. I love writing and receiving proper post too, or even packages from amazon which all tend to make me feel excited. Proper post is very special as the person has taken time and trouble to write. Yes, I like the immediacy of email when you can contact someone thousands of miles away and they can reply straight back, but nothing can beat a letter. How will people in the future learn about us if no letters are preserved? A letter can tell you so much and opens a little tangible window onto a past life. Emails won't be able to do that.
    Best wishes
    Ellie

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  4. I owe some real letters to people. You're right - so much more exciting than a ping in the in box!

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  5. I could wax lyrical about proper letters at length. So much of the knowledge of our past that we take for granted has come from letters.

    A fabulous post Elizabeth, I really enjoyed it. And thank you for the mention :D

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  6. I owe some people letters, too......I think part of the excitement over receiving real mail (even more so when it's from abroad) is that at that moment your friendship transcends the "virtual" and becomes "real" in space and time. It kind of reminds me of Alice stepping into the looking-glass and finding out there really is another world on the other side. And I envy you your red letter boxes; we don't have anything that pretty in the US.

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  7. Hi there - I have an old biscuit tin containing every letter I received as a child - letters from pen pals in Ireland and letters from my parents when I was on Brownie holiday. I even received a few letters when I was a student in the late 80s, but since then, only one or two cards with longish messages inside. It's a shame that we don't take the time to send or receive letters anymore, I really miss the experience of writing them and receiving them. It is definitely a dying art. When I was at Chawton the other day the hand written letters of the Austens brought home to me the importance to one's soul of receiving news from home. I used to have a schoolfriend that I sent letters to as she never answered her phone - I think I may start writing to her again. Judy.

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  8. Lucky you having a 'french' side - so interesting. Isn't that writing just divine? I spent some time on calligraphy courses in the past and mastering them darned pens demands some skill (which I never really acquired) - unbelievable that everyone wrote with pen and ink and in copperplate back in the day. So beautiful. At the end of the 70's I progressed from using pencil to ink pens at school - real ink pens which the school issued - don't know if they still do it, but I assume we were taught to use them as a means of slowing up our writing, as a means of forming 'better' letters. Ahh, the smell of Quink still fills me with nostalgia. And like you, I think Royal Mail is fabuloso. I love email, DESPISE facebook, love texting but nothing, NOTHING beats real live handwritten correspondence. Oliver had a postcard from a friend who is spending the summer in Germany who wrote that he was having 'lots of fun in Germany but I really miss playing with you', which I thought was terribly sweet for an 11 year old boy, and the fact that it is handwritten made all the difference in the world - I have not seen that delighted little beam appear when sitting in front of the computer screen... Anyhoo, bit of a long comment - more a bloody long ol' tale - but there we have it! x

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  9. I love 'meeting' people through blogging and though they may reveal different things about their lives somehow their handwriting reveals a little of their character. Texting and email is quick and efficient, but nothing beats a hand written envelope arriving, especially when it's a surprise.

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    1. I think you are dead right about handwriting - something of the person comes through in their handwriting that simply cannot in any kind of typing. Your writing is just beautiful - I'm very envious! E x

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  10. I never used to receive a 'real' letter. Just recently, since blogging, I have had a few. So nice.
    My Aunty makes sure she pops a little something in the post for my littlest son as she is a big believer in the joys of receiving a parcel/letter. Littlest loves it.
    Lovely blog post.
    Emma. Xxx

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  11. What a great post Elizabeth. You always make me stop and think. I adore receiving "real" post, it makes me so excited. That little french girl has exquisite handwriting. And the three letters at the bottom - all written with beautiful penmanship. My handwriting is dreadful - probably because all I write is shopping lists and the occasional birthday or thank you card, everything else is electronic. Maybe if I wrote more letters, my handwriting would improve...now there's a thought! xx

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  12. Thank you for sharing the letter from your French ancestors. The note from the little girl is just precious. I studied French a long time ago and can still read a bit of it. (Speaking the language is bit more challenging.) I hope that if you haven't received my package, it arrives soon. Also, let me look for some reasonably priced yarn for the frog purse, and I can let you know a reasonable cost. (I bought the yarn for the purse on my blog at an expensive little shop, and I think the bag would come out just as well with inexpensive wool yarn, as he is felted after knitting anyway.) Maybe I can just send him to you as a Christmas gift. He knits up very fast on big needles. The eyes were the most time consuming project.

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    1. Thank you so much Liz and yes, your package arrived today - it's absolutely wonderful! See my thank you email! E x

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  13. Chère Elizabeth,

    Merci de nous faire partager ces lettres si émouvantes. Quel plaisir de trouver une enveloppe manuscrite dans sa boîte au lettres, reconnaître une écriture amie, toucher le papier !...J'aime moi aussi écrire et recevoir des lettres...Si tu veux correspondre avec une autre Madame Trotte-Menu (Thomasina Tittlemouse in French!) , ce serait avec grand plaisir !
    Amitiés de France
    Christiane

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  14. Quelle bonne idée, Christiane! Mme Tittlemouse (anglaise) serait bien contente d'écrire à une autre Mme Trotte-Menu (française). Si tu m'envoies ton adresse postale par e-mail, je pendrai ma plume et mon encrier! Mon adresse e-mail est mrsthomasinatittlemouse@gmail.com
    Du vrai, Mme Tittlemouse n'écrit pas avec une plume mais elle préfère toujours un stylo à encre comme convient à une souris habillée d'un tablier un peu démodé et une charlotte du 19ème siècle! Et si tu te le demandes, moi, je ne porte pas la charlotte (au moins pas tout le temps!) mais bien sûr le tablier! A bientôt! E x

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  15. Prendrai pas pendrai! Tu auras su ce que je voulais dire, j'en suis sûre!

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  16. Dear Elizabeth( I feel I should address this like a letter-after such a lovely post). You are right about the power of letters and there is something magical about receiving something hand written by post ! . This post has made me think that there is room for both new and old methods of communication. Each has its place and I must get back in touch with the old and the personal! many thanks for your lovely post
    With Kind regards
    Nikki

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  17. I still have a trunkful of letters my father wrote my mother while serving in the military for over 20 years. I wouldn't trade them for all of the gold in the world. So wonderful to "see" what was important to them both; how he missed all of us, how they couldn't wait to be reunited, how my da was afraid I'd forget who he was. Life was so very different then... thank you for all of your posts. Truly a pleasure always. If I had your address, you'd be receiving post from East TN, too. Lovely weekend to you.

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Thank you so much for taking the time to visit me at Mrs TT's and comment. I love to read what you write.