love letters are this secret, complicated communication zone where we produce material with the intention of only one person ever reading it. at least i know i do... and then, in this book, we can read everyone else's secret love notes, break-up letters, anniversary poems, text messages, emails, sweet comics, and even a myspace message. the amazing thing is how very much these letters and notes are just like the material produced by our own relationships. there are love letters from 1939 and 2007, letters between couples who have never met each other and couples that have been married for 40 years, and the sentiment is the same. there's none of that canned hallmark "roses are red" shit in here. this is actual crayons and typewriters and perfect, perfect, perfect handwriting (i have a handwriting obsession lately. oh, penmanship, the lost art). i mean, you can practically feel these people gazing at each other with soft backlighting and gentle grateful caresses, or glaring across a table in florescent-lit divorce proceedings. whether they met at a soda shoppe or on jdate.com, just one letter sucked me into their world. it was like a mirror to my heart's own longing.
shapiro has a gift for compiling unrelated material from strangers in a way that is poignant without being too contrived. all of the living authors gave permission for their letters to be published - the nearest living relatives of the dead authors gave their permission. i did wish that i could read a book of love letters where the author would NOT give permission for publishing, but i am nosey like that. my favorite letter was probably the child's scrawl in crayon "PHoebe I love yoU And I MIghT marrY yOu! JaCOb."(the accompanying picture includes a little boy, presumably JaCOb, beaming a care-bear-stare-style laser beam of pink hearts towards a cute girl, presumably PHoebe)
by the end, i felt a lot better about the state of relationships in our world today. there's got to be something real about this "love" shit if so many people experience it in such similar ways over and over again. i come from a background in science, you know, where variables need to be independently tested to produce real data and i feel like the emotions we stir up when our chemistry lines up with the planets and we see a cute face across a room and end up waking up next to them for a couple of decades; well, it's an independently-verifiable fact.