Hi Michel,
as usual, I will tell you my stories and I'll try to extract some kind of general opinion on the matter.
Experience 1: In my early twenties, I was seduced by a Cyrano, a not too handsome guy who wrote beautiful poems for me. I replied to his poems with poems of my own, and for a few weeks I was the happiest person on earth: it was so exciting, so challenging, so romantic and it made me feel desired by a very assertive, manly, passionate person, who would spend so much time and efforts to get me in his arms. He succeeded, and it was a big disappointment for me to find out that in reality he was an emotionally arid, crude, if literary talented, cynical person. Now I can say that his love letters were pure manipulation and exercises in style.
Experience 2: A few years later, I was teaching my first university class and I received a love letter from an anonymous student. It was very sweet, appreciative of my teaching style, not a word about my physical appearance or anything remotely sexual, he wanted to get to know my ideals (sic! From which I deduced he must have been very young: nobody over twenty uses the word "ideals"!). The letter made me smile a maternal smile, and of course didn't move any other emotion in me: who hasn't been in love with the teacher at least once? The funny thing was that in the letter he wasn't saying anything about himself, so his final question (would you be interested in getting to know each other better?) sounded a bit like Robin's letter; now, should I be motivated to meet you just based on the fact that you like me? Isn't this a bit silly/presumptuous on your part?
Experience 3: I still love to be seduced with love letters. I've tried this technique myself, I've tried to seduce men by writing long, clever, malicious, wannabe funny letters. It never worked and I'm extremely disappointed. I would have fallen in love immediately with someone writing like this! I wonder if I sounded too pleased with myself, or if it's a gender thing, and the love letter can only work from man to woman (of from woman to woman; I'm sure I would have had a lot more success if I had been a lesbian); or if, after all, my letters were not so good!
From these experiences I am tempted to abstract the following principles.
Flattering the beloved one is a key ingredient of a love letter. If we want to rationalize, this is very manipulative on the writer's side and very self-centered on the reader's side. But it works! The next question is: why would I, reader, want to sleep with someone who's trying to manipulate me? Why would I, writer, want to sleep with someone who is so easily flattered? But we do, we bloody do! Writer and reader end up in bed together, but each of them is totally concentrated on him/herself: I'm the writer, I'm a genius at hunting the prey down! I'm the reader, I'm the most desirable person in the world!
Frankly, I don't believe this can be something a steady relationship is based on. But there's nothing wrong with having a bit of literary cat-and-mouse fun, if nobody gets hurt.
Secondly, as I've already pointed out, there's a structural gap in Robin's technique. If the reader does not know the writer, the whole exercise seems a bit pointless, unless the writer is able to prove to the reader that he is so intelligent and sensitive that he has guessed, even from the distance, a lot of very deep things about her (so, "you are so beautiful" doesn't count). Or, unless the writer's prose is so artistically beautiful and inspiring that the reader is curious to know the writer, and possess him together with his art. Personally, I'm always enticed by someone who finds beautiful and clever ways to express deep and complicated emotions in words.
On the other hand, if instead the letter betrays the writer as someone who is unable to catch the reader's specificity, if it sounds like (it must have happened to all of you girls thousands of times on facebook: some stranger contacts you, as well as all other pretty girls, saying something like "I love your smile, accept me as a friend!") the same letter could have been sent to many different readers, then it's the end of the game. Even if it's a beautiful letter, if it doesn't have anything specific about the reader, or about a possible interaction between reader and writer, or about what the writer could offer to the reader which would be special and unique, then I don't think it would work. Certainly not on me.
Finally, I'm very interested in the gender question: can any of you men out there tell me about being at the receiving end of a love letter? How does it feel? Could you imagine yourself finding a girl irresistible because she wrote you a beautiful love letter?
With this post, I will become your follower.
I have written my share of those letters to women, beginning with one written to Audrey Hepburn when I was sixteen....inviting her to my high school prom in Portland, Oregon. I had seen Roman Holiday way too many times to not have fully understood her needs better than Gregory Peck. What might have happened had she shown up at my door is possibly worth a sitcom. "Dad, can Audrey stay in my room tonight?" or "Can I use the car to take Audrey to the airport?" are just a few things that might have been.
I once wrote a long, well wrought letter to a woman at Barnard, perhaps after having read too much French romantic poetry, and cribbing wildly from 18th Century English literature I was sure she never read (she had). And it worked. But too well. I was in love with the image rather than the woman, the idea rather than the reality.
Did it again as a young paratrooper in love with a French student at Duke. But be careful what you wish for, as you may get it and not quite know what to do with it. The ability to write to beauty, or wit, or a smile is as transitory as the looks that inspired.
Answering your last paragraph: I was on the receiving end of a love letter. It made me feel extraordinary, and resulted in a long and passionate affair and marriage. That ended, but how can anyone resist a bespoke letter, as a Seville Row tailored suit of the heart....just for you?
My wingsuit in skydiving was tailored exactly to me. You probably couldn't use it even if you were my size. It's as personal as underwear, and as functional as a hand. The same is true of a love letter from a woman who cared enough to compose it. Yes, you are manipulated. You are manipulated in an Indiana Jones or Truffaut film. And you want to be.
Layla, when I was much younger I received a letter from a boy in one of my classes. I didn't much talk to him before or since, but I knew almost before opening it what the letter would contain. It was essentially a love letter, but not one which required (or even requested) action on my part. In any case, I was quite moved (although I knew even at the time that I would not have responded even if asked) and it was difficult to read it; I think the letter was shaking in my hands. Nonetheless, though I could barely look at the page, I managed to read it, and a certain phrase stood out. Maybe six or eight years ago, going through boxes, I came across the letter again. I read it with the calm of hindsight, scanning for the remembered phrase. It was there, but the punctuation was all wrong -- the meaning was unchanged, but I remember the total shock at realizing that I really hadn't read it the first time.
Or perhaps I had; perhaps the trembling was part of the message; perhaps love letters are never contained in the paper they are written on.
Arthur Mont tagged this post as Essential and Good basic survey.
Roy Snider tagged this post as Good basic survey and Highly informative.
Linda OReilly tagged this post as Very enjoyable.
Mia Vialti tagged this post as Very enjoyable.
