Patience of ink used to predominate before the appearance of blue ticks and instant replies. Communication by mail took days, even months, and during that time, there was a refinement of thought. The pen pal was an invisible partner and not the peripheral alter ego in the life of many outstanding writers; someone who refined their ideas, provoked their suspicions, and observed their emergence. Friendships in literature, as recorded in letters, show us a fact that we so easily forget, and that is, greatness is seldom made in a vacuum.
In its most basic form, pen-pal relationships provided writers with a discursive environment to think aloud and not perform. A letter did not need to be written to be applauded and to follow algorithms; it was written to one discerning reader. Such familiarity led to weakness. Authors admitted to failure, artistic stasis, envy, and apprehension, which seldom appeared in their published writing. The letters of Virginia Woolf, as an example, show a mind that continually doubts its brilliance, whereas Kafka has been exposed as being insecure as much as being brilliant through his correspondence. These letters suggest that greatness, unlike mere confidence, is perseverance despite doubt.
Pen pals were also in place as intellectual reflections. By writing, authors sampled concepts before they could send them out into the world. Arguments were fought out at a slow pace, with clarity and exactness being compelled. Letters were an obligation as compared to a public debate; once they were done, one could not edit or delete what he said. This permanence promoted profundity. The correspondence of T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound is another legend that influenced The Waste Land, and it is always beneficial to remember that even such a landmark was frequently a by-product of conversation and not solitude.
The most potent characteristic of the literary friendships they disclose is encouragement. Numerous authors carried on due to the belief of someone, somewhere, that they could be heard. Even a single letter of praise, a paragraph of encouragement, or a request for patience could sustain years of doubt. Pen pals were emotional infrastructure in this manner. They provided companionship in a career that was full of loneliness. Greatness, therefore, is not the sole result of talent, but it consists in being noticed and significant to another mind.
These friendships were also transcendental in nature geographically, culturally, and ideologically. Letters also gave authors the ability to disagree without confrontation and to develop without breaking connections. The slowness of correspondence moderated egos and heightened empathy. Unlike modern fast communication, pen-pal relationships allowed for reflection. Not to speak was not not to think; it was progressive thought.
The strength of pen pals is almost subversive in the era of unremitting connectivity. Literary friendships teach us that indulging in richness requires time, and discussing brilliance is essential. Behind most of the glorified voices, there was another voice on the page — listening, responding, believing. The letters are left as evidence that even the solitary art is a human activity at all.