One important function of The Society is to provide non-prescriptive advice to its members. To this end, I present a veiled case study and extrapolation of first principles of Mad Letter practice.
ML PC-C-JM1
ML PC-C-JM1 was occasioned by my undertaking two tasks in parallel - the reading of Jonathan Meades' 1993 novel, Pompey, and the arrangement of a children's song for a baby’s birthday party. The letter concerns an unfortunate accident of meter, in which Mr Meades is implicated for his rendering of an obscene ditty with the lyric, "all the nice girls like a candle".
Note that I am sharing some of the particulars of PC-C-JM1 by way of example. My intention is to cultivate epistolary appetite and aptitude within SAAL's membership . In practice, the content of a mad letter ought not to be disclosed. A letter is by nature a closed affair, at least until the correspondents are both dead, excepting those rare cases in which the letter prompts some form of action. It must be acknowledged that recipients of mad letters are on the whole unlikely to be moved to action. In any case, post-and-tell stories are to be discouraged. Broadly, we must heed the general principle:
Mad letters travel directly between the epistemic poles of a universe constituted by two minds only.
(On a related but separate note, this assumes the letter actually finds a recipient. See further below for expansive remarks on addressings.)
Those new to the Society might at this point be experiencing some Apollonian doubts as to the reason for the composition of ML PC-C-JM1. To put it bluntly, if you are still dealing exclusively in reasons, perhaps you need to join another Society. I hear the Ancient Order of the Roundpegs has chapters in most backwater holes. Moreover, as the founder of SAAL, I am quite convinced that should I fail in my observance of pure epistolary impulse, I will cast doubt upon the validity of The Society's manifesto. I simply cannot afford to await rational vindication. Hence the principle:
Heed the epistolary impulse.
In order to fully live out this principle, preparation is crucial - you know not the day nor the hour you shall be moved to write, so it is imperative that the appropriate stationery is available. Fortunately in this case the nature of the communication did not demand the full works (these being Indian ink and wax seals, both of which are MIA somewhere in a drawer of niknaks, though there are some babybel cheeses in the fridge, which might provide an adequate substitute in an emergency). In circumstances admitting reduced formality and necessary brevity, a short missive can be jotted on a postcard. For the composition of ML PC-C-JM1 I selected an antique view of Blackpool's North Shore. The decision was impulsive, but based on what I think is a sound assumption that if Pompey hadn't been set in its titular Portsmouth, it might conceivably have been set in Blackpool. In any case, the extrapolated principle is:
Stockpile ("hoard") stationery
Now here is where perhaps I erred initially, but also wherein lay the secret of success. While I briefly lamented the inelegant presentation and wording, and wished I had composed a draft version before attacking the postcard, some of the flaws that were initially regarded as deficiencies soon became elements of persona. I was able to sign off with, "insenced, 78, Putney", confident in the knowledge that my spelling, grammar and syntax were a consistent match with my assumed identity. You see, without consistency, madness can be very hard to follow. It is therefore vital that you:
Honour happenstance in the service of consistency.
Remember that in cases where the overall form and content achieve a close approach to the Ideal, it is imperative to resist a sense of accomplishment. In the decision to send the letter, one must never be motivated by pride. Nor should shame taint the higher purpose of the enterprise, even if the letter speaks from the mouth of a shamed spirit. I urge:
Let your motto be "Humble but never wretched".
This can be particularly challenging when writing to famous people, as in ML PC-C-JM1. Getting starstruck is rather fun, but unless you allow the attendant thoughts and sensations to be transmogrified into pure articulation, your letter will be cloying, pleading, even if your sentences try to effect ease and naturalness.
Of course, you will also struggle to write a Mad Letter to someone you know, unless you are prepared to present yourself to them as a person possessed, and have confidence that they will divine the nature of the project without feeling the need to call your spouse, children or parents to check that you are quite well. In many ways it would be easier to write a Mad Letter to a supermarket cashier or penguin at the zoo, both perfectly viable recipients, who might be open to receiving missives on off-brand product line naming conventions, and attitudes towards mackerel suppers in traditional fishing communities, respectively. In exploring such topics, we find optimal conditions for both humility preservation and the prevention of wretchedness. In the assessment of recipients, topics and tone for suitability, do:
Consider the challenges presented by the three Ps: Prominence, profession and personal acquaintance.
Addressing the card or envelope might well be a simple matter of description. Just as T.S. Eliot alerts us to the multiple names of a single cat, I will remind you that the mad letter recipient has at least as many formulations of correspondence address. In the case of ML PC-C-JM1 there was additionally a foreign postal service to take into account, so "le critique Anglais dans la grande edifice brutaliste a Marseilles" seemed the most efficient option. It is worth noting that even if the more prosaic numbers and codes pertaining to the addressee's residence are available, there are strong arguments for eschewing them on the basis of The Society's principles, and a sense of gentle decorum. We have little appetite for causing alarm. Moreover, it is:
Better for a letter to travel hopefully than to arrive.
Now, I expect it could be argued that this is merely solipsistic masochism, to write letters to penguins and public intellectuals with the barest of clues as stand-ins for recognised postal addresses. But masochism is the midwife in a cognisant rebirth; the knocker-upper in a measured awakening. It's self awareness as the fetters are removed. It's Lady Godiva in a Marks and Spencer’s raincoat. It's collective dreams in Bedlam. Atomic exhibitionism. A rejection of vanity, merely resembling insanity. To frame it as a criticism is to misunderstand all. It is neither abasement nor glorification, but a mixture of the two, and through their conjunction they are transformed and elevated. Grasp that, and you have the heart of the matter. For you see,
In the beginning was the Word; at the heart of the matter is the letter.
Anyone can write a mad missive. In our fallen world there are means of effectively instantaneous delivery readily available. A witless whim can experience birth, international travel, and a good spurning in the space of a moment. Only a true devotee of the Mad Letter knows communicatory steadfastness (or at least a sort of hellbent myopia) for the duration of the composition, sealing, addressing, stamp affixment and posting phrases. The vast majority of mad emails would die ten deaths before they had their compositor foraging for stamps and striking out towards the Red Tower. So, in order to foster total commitment, it is best practice to:
Enact a ritual grounded in tactile processes.
Which leads us nicely to the question: wherein lies the secret of steadfastness? What guides the essence of the Mad Letter from mind to hand to pen to paper to envelope to hand again, and onwards to high street, or village green, or spinning across the open plan office towards a slumped, gaping mail bag? This is where the example of PC-C-JM1 is particularly relevant to our discussion, as we:
Consider the power of signs and omens.
Of course it might well be coincidence that I had exactly three 75p second class stamps left over from posting this year's Christmas cards. Coincidence that sending a postcard to France costs £2.20. And it could be that the perfect transit of two bin lorries when viewed from the postbox at the very moment I dropped the card inside barely qualifies as coincidence. Perhaps my noticing these elements of circumstance is testament to the excessively high wattage of my inner projector's bulb, or its atypical colour (cf. that burnt-fingertipped adolescent phase of swapping lightbulbs in service of moods; blue, red, nicotine yellow...). But beyond solipsistic whimsy, the undeniable vividity of the ecology of symbols is a reminder that existentialism has its aesthetic dimension too, and we necessarily bring to the world a system of mystical case law and personal mythology. Honouring these, we must:
Beautifully system build.
It is important to note that this system operates under a translucent membrane and at arm's length - vivid, immanent, but always separate. The membrane oozes, step back. If it ruptures, you must run. You, and those who depend upon you, cannot navigate a confusion of fire and water. For this reason it is vital that you
Resume normal service asap.
I wish you many a blissful epistle.
Z