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It's the type of book that fits right into the bedtime routine because his thoughts and insights still ring true today, and yet you're given a glimpse of the early 20th century (that is, a time long gone) because you're taken in on even the most ordinary of everyday life: Jack (CS Lewis's nickname) asking for a new jacket or pair of socks, talking about the books he's reading (I really MUST pick up a Bronte sister now), and making travel plans... aren't these the stuff of everyday? Only now, we text and email--so I find myself constantly marveling at the fact that back then you needed to set aside at least an hour everyday just to attend to (meaningful) correspondence. Seems like such a nice way to spend an hour.
Here's a snippet from a letter sent from Gastons on 5 Oct 1914 (date not exact because Lewis had the bad habit of not dating his letters) to his father in Bookham:
My dear Papy,
Thanks so much for the photographs, which I have duly received and studied. They are artistically got up and touched in: in fact everything that could be desired--only, do I really tie my tie like that? Do I really brush my hair like that? Am I really as fat as that? Do I really look so sleepy? However, I suppose that thing in the photo is the one thing I am saddled with forever and ever, so I had better learn to like it. Isn't it curious that we know anyone else better than we do ourselves? Possibly a merciful delusion.
I am very amused by such self-scrutiny coming from a man like Lewis (he would be about 16 years old here)--don't we all do that? (I can especially relate to "Do I really look so sleepy?" LOL!)
Must stop blogging now because I am catching up on my writing. I leave you with a quote about letter-writing:
"It is the immemorial privilege of letter-writers to commit to paper things they would not say: to write in a more grandiose manner than that in which they speak: and to enlarge upon feelings which would be passed by unnoticed in conversation."