Love letters are a time-honoured tradition in both the real world and the fictional; we can see this far back into literary history, such as Shakespeare’s most famous play, Hamlet. Whilst their relationship has its ups and downs—let’s ignore their violent deaths and focus on the romance—Hamlet and Ophelia are an iconic literary couple that endures to this day. They even directly inspired Taylor Swift’s new song The Fate of Ophelia.
Indeed, Hamlet is no slouch when it comes to big romantic gestures. The love letter, read out to the Royal Court by Ophelia’s father, Polonius, in Act II, Scene II, is no exception. He beautifully recounts his doubt of universal truths when he exclaims that ‘the stars are fire’ and ‘that the sun doth move,’ or questioning ‘truth to be a liar.’ Yet, he writes, ‘never doubt I love.’ He soulfully shows how, to him, his love for Ophelia is the purest, surest thing in the world.
The Prince of Denmark, however, doesn’t stop there. Personally, I am planning a nice, quiet night in with my boyfriend, spending time together and watching movies, but Hamlet doesn’t do things like that. No, he goes straight for sentimental superlatives, writing ‘I love thee best, O most best, believe it,’ and even calls her his ‘most dear lady.’ His continued assurances that she is above all others in his eyes are nothing if not passionate. The man is clearly a lover, not a fighter.
His words are grand and glorious yet intimate and personal at the same time, and evidence that, despite some misguided actions later, like ordering her to ‘get thee to a nunnery,’ Hamlet really does love her, and she loves him. They truly are couple goals – minus the deaths.
It’s a love letter that has lasted over four centuries and continues to be a defining example of the love letter trope, and for good reason. If your partner writes you something this good for this Valentine’s Day, they’re a keeper! Sure, Polonius doesn’t see it this way—he uses it as evidence of Hamlet’s madness—but doesn’t love make fools of us all?
Words by Isaak Hewitt
A timeless Valentine’s Day tradition routed in literary practice is the iconic love letter. Love letters provide characters with a space to articulate feelings that they may struggle to voice aloud. Not all letters necessarily result in a happily ever after, as they may fail to reach the intended recipient, known as the ‘undelivered letter trope’. Found often within the romance genre, it highlights the power and vulnerability of written communication, as a single unread letter can have long-term haunting effects across the trajectory of a story.
Ian McEwan’s Atonement captures and explores the undelivered letter trope perfectly. Many consider Atonement to be one of the most devastating uses of a love letter, in both its novel and film adaptation. It is one of my favourite novels that utilises the sending of love letters, taking an unpredictable course. The central plotline focuses on Robbie’s private love letter to Cecilia, but does not lead to their happily ever after, as is often assumed of the trope. What makes McEwan’s letter so powerful is how Robbie’s declaration of love and desire for Cecilia Tallis changes the lives of all central characters within the novel. A simple letter of affection becomes a catalyst for travesty when the wrong letter reaches Cecilia. The poetic letter Robbie had written and intended on delivering was misplaced, and the letter that was delivered was the explicit, raw and unfiltered version. Robbie’s accidental enclosure of the wrong letter and the adult content present inside leads to Robbie being accused of a crime he did not commit, forcing the couple to be forever separated.
Cecilia and Robbie’s tragic romance not only reminds us of the power of love letters but also how words can be so fragile and vulnerable to interception and misinterpretation. So, if you’re ever thinking of writing your own letter, be sure that it is carefully crafted with thought and love.
Words by Leah Davies
Valentine’s Day is a day built on the tradition of written love, where feelings can finally be understood, and it is a truth that Pride and Prejudice captures most notably through Mr Darcy’s letter. Written after his disastrous first proposal, Mr Darcy finally learns how to speak from the heart.
At this point in the novel, Elizabeth has every right to despise him. His pride, his interference with Jane’s love and his perceived cruelty towards Wickham has shaped her understanding of his character. The letter he then writes following this rejection exists so he can articulate what he cannot say aloud – vulnerability and self-awareness – through the power of ink.
What makes this love letter stand out among all the romance books is its intimacy. Mr Darcy does not conform to writing a letter which fulfils a romantic plea, but instead, explains himself. He defends his actions whilst exposing his regrets – such as his conclusion on the feelings of Elizabeth’s sister, Jane. In writing it, Mr Darcy, as a character and person to Elizabeth, begins to transform. He is no longer the distant and prideful figure Elizabeth has known, but someone capable of growth through love.
For Elizabeth, reading the letter is equally transformative. Austen allows us as readers to be drawn into this private exchange, sharing Elizabeth’s changing perception of Mr Darcy’s character as she realises how prejudice has influenced her own judgements. The significance of the letter, hence, does not rely on grand declarations of love, but on its ability to ultimately alter the heart of the story through the growth of characters.
In the context of Valentine’s Day, Mr Darcy’s letter reminds us why written love still matters as a concept. Letters allow both characters and people the opportunity to choose their words carefully and share revelations which may have otherwise remained hidden. Austen, therefore, uses this moment of written words to highlight how love is achieved through emotional honesty. His letter to Elizabeth thus stands out for its sincerity and intimacy, reminding us that at times, love is demonstrated most clearly.
Words by Lola Blanche
Photo by Mrika Selimi on Unsplash. License found here.

