Every Friday I send out a real love letter that I’ve transcribed from a stack I bought at the flea market (until they run out — and this is IT). Missed one? Check the chronological list.
This is it, you guys! It’s the last love letter in the stack! What a journey this has been. Thank you so much for going on it with me.
This is written after Christmas break of 1961. Russ went to visit Karen, and then I’m guessing they spent the holidays hanging out in Evergreen Park. His transfer back to University of Illinois was pending, but, since the letters end with this one, it’s clear he got back into the school and ended up on campus with his beloved.
Let’s get into it:
January 15, 1962
My Darling,
I have just finished reading a letter written by a hand guided by the deepest stirrings of human emotion — a part of the soul itself. And the intellect to which the soul belonged looked on mutely and wondered if I would laugh.
Aww. She was afraid he’d laugh at her sending a schmoopy letter!
Even if I were so cold and insensate to lack any appreciation for what I read, that I should laugh at that which is most truly sacred would be a travesty upon the essence of the soul intolerable to the eternal fiber of the cosmos.
What in the world. This is so over the top!
And lately, as an expression of what I often have felt but could never express, it would certainly gain more than chaotic laughter which, when directed at such things, echoes through time despoiling that which is irreplaceable.
DESPOILING!
And so, then, it would exist, defaced, and undesirable to any who look upon it and the source of the destroyer.
SOURCE OF THE DESTROYER. This is like a love letter from inside an intense game of Dungeons & Dragons.
I write this in very mild reproof and in the knowledge that it is not I but you who should laugh at the inadequate expressions of what I most truly feel.
In a world of almost unthinkable injustice and cruelty, where men still destroy human life as though it were an unpleasant insect, the love and companionship, on the highest plane of all, is like a wonderful island, overflowing with the riches of all mankind in a sea of darkness and desolation.
The beauty of your words, in themselves, to the senses is excelled only by their meaning as one golden stream of precious thoughts, timeless and unending, boundless, and infinitely refined to a luster as deep as space.
Golden stream! He’s killing it. And me.
I waited until I was ready to go to bed before reading your letter and turned out the light when I finished so that its harsh reality would not intrude like some fierce malcreation of the netherworld.
MALCREATION OF THE NETHERWORLD. Welp, I guess I have to start a band because I can’t let that name go to waste.
But my hand and senses would not hold their place and some expression of the thoughts rushing through my mind was made necessary or the overwhelming tide would plunge me into the deepest and uncontrollable irrepressible desire to be with you.
Would literally pay any price to read the letter that prompted this one. Holy shit.
And so this I offer. Small and by comparison grossly inadequate, but the best my meagre talent will parsimoniously dispense.
Parsimoniously!
You alone have the key to my strength. You can give me the inspiration that I must have. You can blot out the hurts and injustices of the world.
This would be so powerful if Russ faced any real injustices whatsoever.
The faith and trust you show when you nestle in my arms is fuel for the completion of any task and your soothing touch and the sweet gaze of your most beautiful eyes creates a mystical balm for the weary battle of life, making it but child’s play and no longer a burden.
I have never felt this way about anyone or anything, and I’m so happy these two dramatic kids found each other and — spoiler alert — got married. I wouldn’t leave you hanging!
This is the power of your love, and this is worth any sacrifice. For your love removes the essence of the sacrifice, to make all the deeds a pleasant, satisfying accomplishment.
Yes, the feeling is unreal, and yet, at the same time, is more real than the ephemeral pleasures man so ardently seeks.
It is love and the union of those in love which has the power to do that which no other amalgamation can. And the power of love and the profound emotion which accompanies it can overcome any obstacle. It asks only that it be allowed to do so. That it not be restrained within the punishing confines of a cold and harsh reality.
I love that he feels like he must use wildly over the top and flowery language to express himself when his emotions run high! It’s like in a good musical, when they burst into song because the stakes and feelings are too intense. It’s so delicious and delirious.
And so, my darling, my loved one, goodnight, and rest in the security of an all-pervading protector.
Kind of a menacing closing, but ok.
The heavens will surely help to protect,
along with myself,one [who] is the source of such an eternal and sincere love, confident that I watch over you every night and give you the goodnight kiss that carries with [it] more meaning than such and could possibly bear.
Love, eternal and complete,
Russ
You guys, it feels like HE KNEW this would be the big finish, right? He saved the best for the last!
The Love Letters are over but that doesn’t mean this newsletter is going anywhere. I’ll have more View-Master content for you throughout this year and a special series of Friday posts to replace this one.
Happy New Year, y’all!
Russ, born too late. His writing would surely be more at home in 1861 than 1961. Glad the crazy kids got married.