From: lhendr at unm.edu <lhendr>
Date: Thu, 6 Aug 1998 10:59:20 -0600 (MDT)

 From an image in the introduction to the book I see UN furiously pounding away on her typewriter, usually writing in great haste, and probably constantly interrupted by the telephone, visitors, and questions from her staff. The letters remind me of the limits of the technology then available -- getting them finished in time to go in the air mail, the not trusting air mail, and the concern about carbon copies. I'm still reading about the earlier years, so I don't know what happens later, but as I find myself wishing, if only she had a photocopy machine, a fax, a computer, or e-mail!

But, oddly, her letters seem to have a kind of e-mail feel to them, not overly polished, but conversational, improvised, intuitive, flowing between professional and personal, but always making their points. Does any one else feel this? I love the way she crosses out and/or repeats the words, playing with them if she's mistyped or perhaps not sure of which spelling to use, as in the "I am dying--dieing--dyeing(?) to see..." sequence (p. xxxv). And the way she somehow makes some of her most important points almost as though they are afterthoughts, growing out of free-flowing associations, thinking while she writes, although we're quite sure she knew what she intended to say from the beginning, especially when she's making criticisms or suggestions. The letters do not feel composed according to outlines, or carefully written and revised, and I like that about them. Is this more characteristic of female letter-writers, I wonder?

I love the glimpses these letters provide into some of my favorite authors and favorite books, and I've only started reading!

Linnea Hendrickson lhendr at unm.edu
Received on Thu 06 Aug 1998 11:59:20 AM CDT