Love Letter "Sex and The City Movie"

June 6, 2008, 11:21 am — Updated: 12:47 pm -->
Dearest Carrie…
By Jennifer Balderama
Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie Bradshaw and Chris Noth as Mr. Big in “Sex and the City” (Craig Blankenhorn/New Line Cinema)

“To write a good love letter, you ought to begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish without knowing what you have written.”— Jean-Jacques Rousseau

I haven’t seen the “Sex and the City” movie. But Tara Parker-Pope, our colleague from across the Times blogosphere, informs us that a book mentioned in the film, “Love Letters of Great Men,” has caused real-life people to storm to their real-life online bookstores in search of said same. From what I can tell based on a Google search, “Love Letters From Great Men” does not, in fact, exist. But a similar-sounding volume, “Love Letters of Great Men and Women,” does, and on Amazon, it’s been climbing up in the sales rankings — as of 10:40 a.m. it had hit No. 178.

The book’s full title is “Love Letters of Great Men and Women: From the Eighteenth Century to the Present Day.” It was compiled by a chap named C.H. Charles, Ph.D., and according to the New York Public Library was first published in 1924, in London. The version selling on Amazon is put out by Kessinger Publishing, which specializes in “scarce and hard-to-find books.”
“Love Letters” is a scarce enough collection that it doesn’t even have a cover image on Amazon. And now that it’s turning into the Little Paperback That Could, I imagine Kessinger’s going to have quite a run. Can’t you just hear the lovelorn now?: “Get me reprint!”

To close, I can’t write a post about love letters without ending on a torrid note. Here’s a little something to start your weekend off right. (Don’t be shy about sharing some of your favorites, readers.)

I wake filled with thoughts of you. Your portrait and the

intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday have left

my senses in turmoil. Sweet, incomparable Josephine,

what a strange effect you have on my heart! Are you

angry? Do I see you looking sad? Are you worried? … My

soul aches with sorrow, and there can be no rest for you

lover; but is there still more in store for me when, yielding

to the profound feelings which overwhelm me, I draw from your lips,

from your heart a love which consumes me

with fire? Ah! It was last night that I fully realized how

false an image of you your portrait gives!

You are leaving at noon; I shall see you in three hours.

Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me

none in return, for they set my blood on fire.

— From Napoleon to his wife, 1795