Rus Articles Journal

Letters of the past and the present. What they?

I to you write - what Bol?

What I can tell still?

Now, I know, in your will

contempt to punish Me .
to

to Whom does not know Tatyana Larina`s letter to Eugene Onegin?! I wanted to begin the reflections about letters of our time with it - time of opening and new technologies.

The letter - it, apparently, simply the paper with the text written on it sent someone for information transfer or for communication with the people, necessary for us. But not all just like that. Considering the text, we put so many experiences in the letter: it is love and grief, warmth and unfriendly coldness, light pleasure and indignation.

The used-up leaf stores on itself your energy and a smell (how many times of the girl the favourite spirits that dear friend remembered their aroma dripped on an envelope?!) . Letters stored at heart and re-read from time to time, exciting tender feelings.

Reflecting, I cannot but remember messages of my old friend and the best teacher Victor Rostokin. It were small leaflets with illegible small handwriting on which it praised my creative activities or defeated everything utterly. But not in it business, it were leaflets size about his heart as this wise person spoke. Read the letter - and as if communicated to the person dear to you, touched his sacred soul.

During an era when letters were transported by the three or in mail coaches, they were written long, slowly, warmly, with such calculation that the precious letter, having overcome not one kilometer, will reduce distance and will replace though in small degree, personal meeting.

In cultural use of mankind, fortunately, remarkable monuments of the letter remained. It is Chesterfild`s correspondence with the son, Voltaire with madam de Sevinie, Herzen with the wife, Dostoyevsky with the brother...

In the twentieth century the telegraph, phone and the Internet, in the twenty first - the SMS, MMS, etc. expedited matters. The letter lost meaning of an irreplaceable means of communication, departed on the last plan and was almost forgotten. And people changed. Became more stale, also zamknuty is colder.

By e-mail - for the family it is enough steam of lines that know that we are living - are healthy. But whether it is enough?! I exchange calls every week with mother, but why she constantly asks: And why you do not write? Whether all at you as it should be? And every evening with hope checks huge Soviet a mailbox on a house wall. By the number of letters she draws gloomy conclusions, does not sleep at the nights, worrying, and prays, prays, prays. It is ashamed.

But our mobile century forces to live in a different way. And it is not enough who now in oblivion whispers by heart the letter for the lovely hero I quote again Pushkin in whose lips definition - " once sounded; post prose .

I not against development of high technologies, but you should not forget such lovely genre as the letter.