The Times has the most famous letters page of any newspaper. This delightful selection of over 300 items of correspondence over the last century shows precisely why.
As a forum for debate, playground for opinion-formers, advertising space for decision-makers and noticeboard for eccentrics, nothing rivals it for entertainment value. By turns well-informed, well-intentioned, curious, quirky and bizarre, since 1914 it has taken the temperature of the British way of life and provided a window on the national character.
Among those who have written to The Times to have their say are some of the major political and literary figures of the modern era, including Margaret Thatcher, Benito Mussolini, Graham Greene and John Le Carré. There are contributions, too, from Agatha Christie, Alastair Campbell, AA Milne, Yehudi Menuhin, Theresa May and Morrissey.
If you want to know why kippers are dyed, who first turned up their trousers, how to make perfect porridge or just how to have a letter printed in The Times, this infinitely witty, diverting and memorable anthology should be, sincerely, yours.
The Times is a British daily (Monday to Saturday) national newspaper based in London. It began in 1785 under the title The Daily Universal Register, adopting its current name on 1 January 1788. The Times and its sister paper The Sunday Times (founded in 1821) are published by Times Newspapers, since 1981 a subsidiary of News UK, in turn wholly owned by News Corp. The Times and The Sunday Times do not share editorial staff, were founded independently, and have only had common ownership since 1967.
Sir, the Year in Letters (Andrew Riley, ed., 2023, Times Books) is a slim volume of selected letters that were published in The Times over the course of a year. They are all of the ‘bottom right-hand corner’ type—light, short and whimsical. Great Letters is an altogether more substantial and substantive volume—not less engaging for it but rather more so. It contains many lengthy, seriously argued letters of 400-500 words or more, as well as a smattering of the shorter and more whimsical kind. It is a selection from the first 100 years of The Times Letters Page, from its beginning in 1914.
The first section (‘Starting Times’) epitomises that variety, with a lengthy, aggrieved complaint that the writer’s three previous letters, written from a position of self-proclaimed authority and expertise, were not published. He questions the editor’s selection criteria. A delightedly twice published correspondent answers briefly that “the prime qualification … to get letters published … is eccentricity”. The book suggests that it certainly helps.
There follows a brief exchange of letters, published in 1950, concerning a proposed Sherlock Holmes exhibition in Marylebone. The letters are signed purportedly by a Dr John Watson and a retired Metropolitan Police Inspector, Lestrade. Sadly, another letter, written by one Mrs Hudson and referred to by Lestrade, is not included. (This is a regrettable feature of some other exchanges.) By this point I was firmly on the hook and always put down the book reluctantly. When I did so for the last time, it was with sadness. I have gone back to it since several times.
Thereafter, the letters are arranged in chronological chapters, from ‘Thundering 1914-19’ to ‘From Blair to Brexit 2000-16’. The chapters are filled mostly with serious, thoughtful correspondence. A frequent serendipity is to read and be struck by the content of a letter, only to find that it was written by a well-known but unexpected person, famous in an entirely different sphere of life than the subject of the letter.
John Galsworthy rails against social ills; Arthur Conan Doyle espouses baseball as a summer sport; Agatha Christie writes thoughtfully about Shakespeare; Marie Stopes opposes pocket money for children; the inventor of the cricketing googly regrets young men taking up “less exacting pastimes” such as golf (six decades later, his son, a television news reader, sets off a lengthy exchange about “childish nicknames” given to British World War Two generals); AA Milne recalls a school cricket match; Bernard Levin confesses a theft; Montgomery of Alamein writes about skiing.
Serious topics covered include the injustice of divorce laws, proportional representation, an early (1920s) appearance of the telephone scam, Stalinism, antisemitism in 1930s Germany, equal pay for women, post-war Europe, Palestine, BBC pronunciation, apartheid, comprehensive schools, etc.
The one dud note, for me, is sounded by a couple of letters about American and British English. The first gives a long list of over 160 Americanisms asking for their translation; the second repeats the long list, giving an explanation for each. I cannot understand why the book's editor thought it appropriate to give these letters so much space. They are the only two letters I did not read right through.
There is room for the indulgence of lighter topics (making perfect porridge, origins of marmalade, HP Sauce labels), scholarly debate (the layout and top speed of triremes), esoteric controversy (women barristers and wigs), sartorial history (origin of the trouser turn-up, an English hat) and culinary mystery (the greater fragility of modern egg shells). The final section (‘End Times’) contains a discussion about how to sign off a letter without being overly formal or intimate.
The charm of this collection lies in the rolling snapshot it gives, however narrowly focused, of British social history. Here is an enthralling glimpse into the concerns, customs and attitudes of readers of The Times through the twentieth century, by no means all of whom represent the more wealthy, leisured or educated classes. There are letters from a fascist dictator, a comic genius, a Prime Minister and a trade unionist who reads the paper in the public library. Great Letters will both engage and enrage, amuse and bemuse, educate and pontificate—I am sure it will never pall but only enthral.
This book was recommended to me by the author of one of the letters contained in it. The idea, which Anglophiles will appreciate, is to make some of the more interesting letters submitted to The [London] Times available to be viewed selectively. The British outlook is already apparent in the selection of the title The Times, as if London alone could claim the definite article. And these letters hold up some of the best of British ideals as well as some of the more quirky aspects of the once world-wide empire.
A series of letters concerning cricket will leave many non-Brits scratching their heads, and the set of letters about the trireme may annoy some with its assumed erudition, but series of letters about women's rights and how to make oatmeal properly can be enjoyed by anyone. Although books like this are great for selective reading, this one rewards a cover-to-cover approach. Arranged chronologically, it covers many, many years, and pulls out just a few of the more memorable moments and includes the opinions of not a few very famous writers.
Having lived in the United Kingdom for over three years, this book was like going home. For colonials who appreciate British humor and self-importance, it will be great fun. I couldn't help but be reminded of my own letter accepted for publication in The Scotsman back in my Edinburgh student days. It would never make such a collection, but it stands as a reminder that newspapers are places to express opinions. This book will bring that home to many who like to be reminded of what life was like before claims of "fake news" poisoned the well for everyone.
This was a book as marvellous as I expected it to be, although the contents are notedly longer and generally more serious than the rival volumes from the Telegraph. Here are some sterling and noted names giving their thoughts free of charge to the pseudonymous 'SIR' and his readers. Arthur Conan Doyle asks for WW1 soldiers to be equipped with bulletproof 30lb steel shields, only to pop up later concerning the benefits of baseball. H G Wells guns at length for PR, a hundred years before the LibDems failed to get anywhere with it. Montgomery is here on standards in skiing.
From less famous names we get how to cook porridge, and the horrors of girls being witness to greyhound races and betting. Trouser leg turn-ups are discussed ad infinitum, as are the origins of marmalade. A reader's daughter takes the chance to auction herself off in marriage. Triremes feature a lot more than you'd expect, only for things to return to flipping porridge again.
This is not as trivial a book as such a summary would suggest, for it's real social history – the very construct of the letter, and the fact that The Times still managed to shunt a hyphen into the word 'today' until 1960. Oh, and any author would die for the character name Primrose Feuchtwanger, but she's on these pages. There's a welter of other obscure, inventive and interesting titbits alongside her. A lovely volume to browse.
Writing letters to newspaper is a tradition, which I found, very sadly, is dying, all due to the advent of internet and social media, where people can communicate their thoughts more clearly, while news are more up to date and newspaper sadly could not keep up today. Thus, this book was a throwback to the old times, which gives us general picture how people conveyed their thoughts in general public before smartphone or instagram or tiktok. Combine it with supposed eccentricity of the British and you got a very amusing reading.
Divided into chapters of hundreds of years of The Times existence. The Brits were complaining, piling onto debate on seemingly trivial things (I remembered the most about how to turn up your trousers or not, whether eating marmalade on toast was British tradition or not, and how to end up your message without sounding too affectionate, for example), and these were the kind of civilised debate, albeit rather funny, that is a rare occurrence in today’s social media. Even I had not lived on the times when most of the letters were written, it gave a sense of nostalgic feelings to me and a general picture on how people live throughout the times, and while some people are concerned about the right things, others were evidently not.
I so wanted to love this book. I have this romantic idea of these letters reflecting history and life but mostly it just comes across as pompous know it alls that remind me why I do not read them when they’re in a newspaper let alone a book..... having said all that I do think if you are fan of the times letters and have more patience than I it is amazing to read them as one collection
A mildly diverting book for dipping into occasionally or for reference (though unfortunately it is not themed by topic), but a bit of a drag if you choose to read it through cover to cover.