Dale H West Menu

© 2001 Dale H. West. All rights reserved.

A riddle attributed to the ancient Greek lyrist Sappho: “What creature is it that is female in nature and hides in its womb unborn children who, although they are voiceless, speak to people far away?” The answer: “The female creature is a letter. The unborn children are the letters [of the alphabet] it carries. And the letters, although they have no voices, speak to people far away, whomever they wish.”

For centuries women have carried the legacy of letter writing. Contemporarily trivialized as a “woman’s art,” and yet, as evidenced in this riddle, millennia ago Sappho presumed this genre of work as a sincere and respected female art form. Sappho’s homoerotic poetry was often composed for her Greek female understudies in the 6th century BCE. Sappho introduced unique styles in meter and also shifted away from writing from the classic vantage point of the gods and wrote from the perspective of the individual in the first person. Plato considered Sappho above and beyond a great lyric poet: he considered her one of the muses. So today, we might consider Sappho the muse of the woman who writes love letters to the woman of her intimate admiration and attribute her name – Sapphic – to the genre.

Proposing the Genre: Sapphic Epistolary
The recent release of collections of intimate letters between women over the past 200 years compels us to consider a special and significant genre: Sapphic epistolary. These letters are characterized by their intimate nature, sometimes slowly revealing, sometimes proudly and unabashedly describing complex and exclusively female relationships. By their feminine authorship they share a number of phases of friendship development, self-reflection and relational understanding. By the course and nature of history and social influence, they reflect certain styles inherent to their respective generation.

Why recognize these collections as a genre worthy of distinction? In her research on the relationship of anthropologists Ruth Benedict and Margaret Mead, Hilary Lapsley reflects, “Friendships between women have seldom been accorded their true importance in the lives of women who have made a mark on public life.” Hart and Smith are no less adamant in regards to the historic impact of their subjects when they write “However much the love between Emily [Dickinson] and Susan [Huntington-Dickinson] has been overlooked or diminished by commentators, one thing is clear: the letters and poems are standing proof of a devoted correspondence that has had a profound impact on the history of American Literature.” At the dawn of the twenty-first century, a significant number of these intimate compendiums are being released and published by editors who recognize the impact on history – Western, American and Feminist – these collections will create. Included in this genre of letters are also poetry and other forms of prose written with the fire of female compassion and intimacy burning in the hearts and minds of their women authors. Letters need take no strict form of creation or transmission. They must be created for and sent to the subject of the author’s affections. By considering this definition, we open the genre to today’s communication environment of faxes and e-mails, as well as the inclusion of poetry, novels (as with Virginia Woolf’s Orlando) and letter-poems (such as Emily Dickinson’s).

Transcending Sex and Intimacy
Because this genre is defined by recording intimacy between women by the subjects themselves; in every text approaching this topic, the subject of sex and sexual intimacy arises. In introducing her collection of love poems between women, Emma Donoghue reflects; “It intrigues me that even poets who seem to have lived entirely heterosexual lives wrote the occasional poem in which love for women flares up. Poetry seems to have provided a space for such inconsistencies, a stage for those moments that complicate our views of sexuality and friendship.” In so much as this is true for poetry from woman to woman, so it is true for letters between the same. While many might claim the role of sex and sexuality has no bearing in the discussion of these letters, indeed many suggest the entire subject of sex and sexuality irrelevant, it is not so easy to dismiss this consideration in the framework of our current psycho-social view of same-sex relationships. In examining sex and sexuality in the Sapphic letter, we are presented with the paradox of love and friendship as well as the difficulty of names and labels.

“The question of female friendships is peculiarly elusive; we know so little or perhaps have forgotten so much.” Smith-Rosenberg opened the discussion of integrating love and friendship to an emerging world of feminists when she originally published her frequently cited “The Female World of Love and Ritual” in 1975. Certainly one of the most challenging aspects of attempting to define a sexual relationship is determining at what point sex or sexual activity begins. While most definitions would focus on genital contact, for heterosexual and homosexual relationships, it is not difficult to comprehend a sexual experience could occur without genital or even physical contact, making it nearly impossible to draw a line between friends and lovers. This may be a result of the tendency of authors to write (and editors to publish) sensationalized romantic and sexual relationships, while ‘simple’ friendships may, on the surface, appear dull and mundane – unworthy of publication and the eyes of contemporary readers. Ultimately, a Sapphic epistolary records the history of a friendship – from discovery of self, world and friend, through intimate revelations and ultimately death of a partner or of the relationship. It records these sexual and personal transitions in an emotional work about enduring friendship. Part of the dilemma in defining a common frame of reference is we need only to make this distinction – of friend or lover – if we reduce the status of friend to something less than lover. ‘Friend’ must readily describe not casual acquaintance but an intimate and precious soul-mate. One of the most eloquent definitions of ‘friend’ in this context comes from Mary Grew (abolitionist and reformer) when responding to Isabel Howland’s condolences on the death of Mary’s friend, Margaret Burleigh:

Your words respecting my beloved friend touch me deeply. Evidently… you comprehend and appreciate, as few persons do… the nature of the relation which existed, which exists, between her and myself… To me it seems to have been a closer union than that of most marriages. We know there have been other such between two men and also between two women. And why should there not be. Love is spiritual, only passion is sexual.

Perhaps the most difficult aspect of distinguishing between friendship and sexual intimacy (or lovers), and the need for these distinctions, is the feminist need to label or name the feelings and emotions expressed in the Sapphic letter. Compounding this difficulty is the tendency for the definitions of terms used in naming to change over time. The nature of Sapphic letters is too complex and transcends labels, especially the label which is readily applied to these works today: lesbianism. Modern women love letter compiler Kay Turner defines “lesbian” as “simply enjoying and suffering the dramatic experience of loving another, non-kin related, woman, of casting one’s fate and future with her for however long.” Unfortunately due to its current popular use, the term “lesbian” becomes too confining for what might simply and inclusively be defined as Sapphic. Defining love letters between women as lesbian may seem acceptable in the context of our current understanding of lesbianism at the onset of the twenty-first century. However, in examining past collections and in keeping a term open and available for the breadth of work which will present itself in the future, honoring Sappho, the ancient originator of the first-person, homoerotic love poem seems most appropriate.

Perspectives of History and Culture
In reflecting on the now classic feminist works of Lillian Faderman and Carroll Smith-Rosenberg in regard to the historical context and importance of Sapphic correspondence, Leila Rupp encourages caution in how we approach these works. By reading such intimate works, never intended for public consumption, we are voyeurs of very private thoughts and emotions. These possessions – thoughts and emotions – are significantly more personal than one’s physical body or material wealth, and should be gratefully held in such valuable regard. We can only borrow these thoughts or emotions; we cannot possess them. They are not our thoughts to be thought the way we would think them. They are not our emotions to make the emotion we expect to find.

In order to most successfully separate us from such potentially intense works we must regard them in their historical and sociological context. Since the mid-nineteenth century, we can identify five generations of Sapphic letters: Victorian (1840 – 1880), Transitional (1880 – 1920), Underground (1920 – 1960), Revolutionary (1960 – mid 1980s) and Confrontational (mid 1980s to present). The various generations are marked by their unique attitudes of society, society’s attitudes towards women as well as women’s attitudes towards women. These social influences, as well as other historical events contribute to the language, style and patterns of the Sapphic letter.

The Victorian Generation (1840 to 1880)
Evidence exists of women declaring their love in letters for hundreds of years. However, in 1840 Britain introduced the penny post while the United States started a nickel post in 1847. This enabled women of the middle class to engage in letter writing across great distance at an affordable price. It is from this time we begin the study of Sapphic letters, a time when sufficient source material is available to examine the influence of women and culture on the genre.

In nineteenth century middle and upper class America, women and men existed in essentially different spheres of society, influence and culture. A strong puritan attitude of segregating the sexes permeates this time. The networks formed by women were a critical component of dealing with significant events in life, and especially events that were considered part of the female sphere of society. Such female events as childbirth, menstruation, menopause, marriage and death were handled exclusively in the sphere of female networks. During these times, a woman’s network of female friends would be responsible for getting the woman through the event – often moving into the woman’s home, spending days or weeks and often sleeping together. A woman might even bring their closest female friends or family members with them on their honeymoon to aid in the transition from one of practically exclusive female contact to one that would ultimately include her husband.

As a result of such expected associations, women were not only known to form spiritually and physically intimate relationships with each other, society practically expected it from the “most refined” members of the female gender. Common was the expectation of girls and women sharing a bed, kissing and hugging. During dances, the thought of young men and women waltzing together was titilating and cause for rumors and scandal, while two women waltzing was “not only acceptable but pleasant.” Middle and upper class women defined their lives around home, church and the “institution of visiting.” While urban woman centered their social lives around daily visits, tea times and shopping, rural women often exchanged long term visits. With visits from their circle of female friends sometimes extending for months, it was not uncommon for a husband to not sleep with his wife in order that she might spend as much time as possible with a visiting female friend.

It is this intense association between women that defines the nature of intimacy revealed by letter writers of the time. Women could express the most intimate thoughts, feelings and desires in writing because society viewed women as essentially asexual. There was no need to fear persecution if discovered as will be affecting letters in later generations.

To illustrate this social, male and legal attitude, we need only to look at the libel case of Woods and Pirie in 1811. These two women were the mistresses of an all girls’ boarding school in Scotland. The girls at the school not only shared sleeping quarters, but also slept two to a bed as was customary. One student at the school shared a bed with one of the head mistresses, and told her grandmother sometimes the other headmistress would “come into their room, get into the bed on Mss Pirie’s side, climb on top of Miss Pirie, and shake the bed.” Conversation would ensue which today would unmistakably be considered evidence of a homosexual affair. While the student’s grandmother called other parents, and ultimately all the students were removed from the school, Misses Woods and Pirie successfully sued the student’s grandmother for libel.

Essentially, Scotland’s courts determined it was impossible for the two women to be having a sexual affair. It was understood at that time a woman was an asexual creature and could not possibly be sexually motivated or stimulated if a male was not present. Women were understood to only have sexual desires to satisfy men or procreate. Woods’ and Pirie’s attorneys used as evidence letters between the two women which today would certainly condemn them, if not criminally, morally. Written in a bible given as a gift from Miss Pirie to Miss Woods: “Accept, my beloved, of that book, which can give consolation in every situation; and dearest earthly friend, never open it without thinking of her, who would forego all friendship by her God’s to possess yours. Ever your own…” Demonstrating the ability to commit to a female friendship was seen as a sign of purity and high moral character.

As a result of this expectation by society and women that women should maintain and nurture intimate relationships, letters of this time are full of blatant expressions of love and commitment. These letters form eloquent expressions of passion between women. Consider this excerpt from a letter written by Emily Dickinson to her beloved sister-in-law, Susan Huntington Dickinson:

… Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday, and be my own again, and kiss me as you used to? Shall I indeed behold you, not “darkly, but face to face” or am I fancying so, and dreaming blessed dreams from which the day will wake me? I hope for you so much and feel so eager for you, feel that I cannot wait, feel that now I must have you – that the expectation once more to see your face again, makes me feel hot and feverish, and my heart beats so fast – I go to sleep at night, and the first thing I know, I am sitting there wide awake, and clasping my hands tightly, and thinking of next Saturday, and “never a bit” of you. Sometimes I must have Saturday before tomorrow comes, and I wonder if it w’d make any difference with God, to give it to me today, and I’ll let him have Monday to make him a Saturday…

Time and editors have often changed or censured these letters, as they have passed through subsequent generations. Only now, as the tide is returning towards acceptance of open love between women, are editions and collections of letters being compiled with these letters nearly intact.

The Transitional Generation (1880-1920)
The 1880’s began to see the “scientific” study of sex and gender and the classification of sexual perversions as well as the emancipation of women. The combination of this social and economic shift began the turn of attitudes towards women and among women, even though the Victorian customs were slow to change.
In 1869, European ‘sexologist’ Karl Westphal defined lesbianism as men in women’s bodies. Others, including Freud, created debates over the new concept of sexual orientation. As never before, relationships were being studied and classified. Now same-sex relationships between women were given labels including: inversion, perversion, contrary sexuality and uranism. Heterosexual and homosexual were defined and considered exclusive and opposite.

Meanwhile, the Civil War reduced the number of marriage-eligible men by three million while simultaneously drawing young, educated men to the West. Over one-third of all college students in 1880 were women. Colleges throughout the nineteenth century had become co-educational, and some, such as Mount Holyoke (founded 1837) were even exclusively for women. Armed with higher education and professions, out of necessity women began finding they were able and capable of sustaining fiscally viable lives on their own or with other women. The inventions, in America, of the typewriter (1873) and the Bell System (1876) not only opened up a great number of livable wage jobs for women, they were to equally influence subsequently written letters.

As the tide against Victorian customs and attitudes changed, so did the nature of how women wrote about their love. Social norms change the way women feel about women in addition to society’s views of women. Two distinct themes emerge: gendered role-play and secretiveness.

An entire world of lesbian lovers and ‘Boston Marriages’ developed during this time, each typically engendering the roles of ‘butch’ and ‘femme.’ Even if the letters of this period do not clearly distinguish gender-mimicking roles, they do provide evidence of an abandoning of the equal relationships lived and written about during the Victorian era. This gendered role-playing appears to be a reflection of ‘heterosexual conventions.’ One relationship involving a publicly known figure in a gendered, same-sex relationship is that between Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf. Their complex relationship results in frequent references to gendered roles as well as submissive abuse. In her novel-letter Orlando, Virginia Woolf fictionalized her intimate friend, Vita, as the novel’s main, male, character Orlando. Even in early letters to Vita, Virginia makes her submissive role clear: “I enjoyed your intimate letter from the Dolomites. It gave me a great deal of pain – which is I’ve no doubt the first stage of intimacy – no friends, no heart, only an indifferent head. Never mind: I enjoyed your abuse very much…”

The second quality emerging during this transitional generation of letters is one of secretiveness – inspired by guilt or a presumed need for covert writing. Also, editors and biographers publishing works of famous people in the Victorian era edit or purposefully omit, significant portions of works in light of this new social philosophy. The previously cited passage from Emily Dickinson to Susan, was related in Susan’s daughter Martha Dickinson Bianchi’s 1924-1932 ‘collections’ as follows:

… Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday? Shall I, indeed behold you, not “darkly, but face to face” – or am I fancying so and dreaming blessed dreams from which the day will wake me? I hope for you so much and feel so eager for you – feel I cannot wait. Sometimes I must have Saturday before tomorrow comes.

The physical displays of kissing, being hot and feverish and having a rapid heart beat are all omitted. While wanting to demonstrate the strength of their friendship, Bianchi removes practically all references to any physical relationship because Dickinson was just beginning to gain respectability as an author and poet. Bianchi understood the social norms of the time to see such physical descriptions in writing as perverse, and so might have extinguished Dickinson’s respectability.

As this era of significant change came to a close, Sapphic letters between women start to touch on the focus of desire. In her poem-letter, The Letter (1919), to Ada Russell, Amy Lowell keeps the intimacy of their friendship secret while dwelling on desire:

Little cramped words scrawling all over the paper
Like draggled fly’s legs,
What can you tell of the flaring moon
Through the oak leaves?
Or of my uncurtained window and the bare floor
Spattered with moonlight?
Your silly quirks and twists have nothing in them
Of blossoming hawthorns,
And this paper is dull, crisp, smooth, virgin of loveliness
Beneath my hand.

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against
The want of you;
Of squeezing it into the little inkdrops,
And posting it.
And I scald alone, here, under the fire
Of the great moon.

The Underground Generation (1920 – 1960)
As Sapphic letters evolve, we experience each generation retaining portions of preceding eras, while incorporating new liberties and restrictions. The theme of desire begins towards the end of the transitional generation and continues, in force, through letters even written today. Consider Vita Sackville-West’s letter of 21 January 1926 to Virginia Woolf:

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you. …I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal… So this letter is really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. …You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it.

The advent of World War II, and the era of McCarthyism which followed in the 1950’s, served to drive intimate relations between women, whatever their nature, underground far beyond the name-calling of the previous generation. Many writers and recipients destroyed their work, some put restrictions on public access (works might not be released for a number of years after the death of one or both writers or their significant others), while others found creative ways to hide their sentiments so that they might be found and enjoyed by a hopefully more acceptable future reader.

One of the highest profile writers of this genre is Eleanor Roosevelt, wife of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. From 1932 to her death in 1962, she formed and maintained an intimate relationship with Associated Press writer, Lorena Hickok. What evidence exists of that friendship is the Sapphic letters written between the two. While Eleanor likely had the most to lose, due to her stature as the First Lady of the United States and highly public figure, it was Lorena who most protected their written exchange. As early as 1936, she began by retrieving letters she had written to Eleanor and purposely destroyed many of them. She placed restrictions on the Roosevelt Library that letters could not be opened until at least 10 years after her death. Dropping letters into a fire, Lorena told Eleanor’s daughter, Anna “Your Mother wasn’t always so discreet in her letters to me.” Fortunately, many letters do still survive.

Many love letters between women do exist from this era, and for themes and writing characteristics, they essentially follow the gendered-role and secrecy of their predecessors in Sapphic letters. However, the event of destruction and hiding was more intense, even among non-public letter writers. Mildred Munday, a lesbian activist interviewed by Kay Turner for her book on lesbian love letters, confessed she regrettably burned her love letters in the late 1950’s. An antique shopper discovered a stash of love letters written in the late 1920’s between “Margaret” and “Louise” hidden in a picture frame by Louise. The only inkling of the contents could be found in the quote written in a corner of the frame by Louise “The courage of the commonplace is greater than the courage of crisis.” These letters between two “commonplace” women include themes woven in many Sapphic letters throughout the years: writing versus speaking, friend as mirror and intellectual conspirator, nature and desire. An excerpt from a letter addressed to Louise by Margaret:

… I must write for if I speak we can neither one be brave… I have tried to tell you what you are to me but no words can say it – If you love me ask your own heart what mine says – then add to it the bliss of freedom I have felt with you. …Shall I ever again see rocks and trees without thinking of you – hearing your thrilling voice as you told me of yourself or asked the deepest questions of life – Shall I ever stand in the moonlight without seeing and feeling beside me the white sweet flower of my perfect bride…

And so, during this time, women’s liberation continued, albeit underground, throughout the reign of McCarthyism. Primarily only white and privileged women retained the ability to sustain the feminism movement after the success of abolition. This created an “isolated and homogenous feminist community.”

The Revolutionary Generation (1960 – mid1980’s)
The 1960’s found the Western world at the onset of both a feminist and sexual revolution. In relation to studying Sapphic letters, it is impossible to separate the two revolutions (feminist and sexual). One of the biggest indicators of the change in social and professional attitudes was the removal of homosexuality from the list of mental illnesses in the “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders” in 1973. Coupling that with the sexual freedom found in better birth control with the introduction of the Pill, women were free to consider choices which had not been previously available.

It is the confusion of the concurrent sexual and feminist freedoms as well as feminism and lesbianism that permeates Sapphic writing at this time. “I don’t know when my strong body urges might be sexist rather than sexual – liberation has only confused me on this point and often I go through rather ridiculous self-debates over whether I’m sexual or sexist,” writes Karla to Anon in 1975. Charoula also writes of the feminist battle to Gail in 1961:

There must be something wrong with the world, I think. Why should we be afraid of what we feel, of what we think? Why should they be right, and we be wrong? …It’s not just a matter of a woman falling in love with another woman, it’s a whole way of approaching life, a whole series of beliefs and ideals, and feelings, that is at stake. And I’m too selfish, too self-confident, to accept theirs instead of mine.

It may be a matter of respect women in this time tend to honor their movement of liberation as equal to their most intimate acquaintances. It would be reasonable to assume they considered the liberation a major contributor to enabling the intimate and fulfilling relationships they found with other women. Yet many attribute their intimate acquaintances wholly to the movement itself. Radical feminist Adrienne Rich advocated the concept of lesbianism not on identity or sexual behavior, but on the “solidarity among women in resisting patriarchy” in her 1980 publication “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence.”

Once lesbianism is labeled and associated with feminism and, to a lesser extent, to all intimate relationships between women, it complicates the definitions and understanding of the relationships of previous generations as well as those today and in the future.

The Confrontational Generation (mid1980’s through present)
“ Lesbian” love letter collector, Kay Turner, summarizes the current state of publicly available Sapphic letters; “In the 20th century, the lesbian love letter has evolved from an intimate document of careful disclosure to a bold document of exuberant exposure.” At a time when all aspects of society are bold and without a great deal of consideration, it would be a logical progression for Sapphic letters of today to be equally bold and forthright. “I’m pleased to say the desired effect of your fax was realized: a clitoral response… And upon re-reading it, I’m happy to report, the sensation returned. The gift that keeps on giving,” writes Gretchen to Ann in 1991.

If we were to believe this bold, confrontational style is all that exists of our society, and on a smaller scale, the institution of intimacy between women, we might certainly have cause for concern and sadness. For now, it would be best to believe that these bold “pioneers,” resting on the feminist revolutionaries of the preceding generation, retain little self-restraint and honor for the institution of friendship. While they are currently our only evidence of love written between women, time should prove the tender side exists in those who still wear an armor of caution. The “war” started in the 1960’s is far from over. Self-identified lesbians of today more freely express their intimacy than women who do not strongly identify with lesbianism. For non-lesbian women today, there is still an effort to maintain an appearance of “heterosexuality” and “normalcy.” As a result, the bold, sexual letters of lesbians compose the majority of available letters between women, overshadowing the more Sapphic letters written in the spiritual and emotional themes transcending sex and generations.

Sapphic letters and Sapphic epistolary (collected works of Sapphic letters) reveal the tender foundations of friendships between women. While tender, they are not fragile. They are made of the strongest bonds of human compassion, intellect, spirituality and intimacy. Generations of letters show these bonds are common through women who honor another woman as an equal and as a friend, regardless of time and place. While the use of the word “friend” may be prostituted to refer to lesser relations, the Sapphic letter holds “friend” in the highest regard: equal to no less than deity, self or nature. While more recent epistolary appear to move away from the tender and poetic, history should prove such eloquent writings between women exist but are still protected due to their intimacy and a lingering societal scorn.

Write! Comrade – write!
On this wondrous sea
Sailing silently,
Ho! Pilot, ho!
Knowest thou the shore
Where no breakers roar -
Where the storm is oer?

In the peaceful west
Many the sails at rest –
     The anchors fast–
Tither I pilot thee—
Land Ho! Eternity!
     Ashore at last!

Emily Dickinson’s first poem to Susan Gilbert – March 1853

© 2003 Dale H. West. All rights reserved.