Handwriting makes us better writers, free of the suggestions of spelling and grammar apps, and it represents something of our personalities
Recently, I found a letter my mum had written me years ago when she was on holidays in Vietnam. The paper is thin and ratty on the edges, but the handwriting and the turn of phrase is unforgettably hers. In looping, cursive black ink, she has described pages and pages of wondrous observations about her travels, immediately transporting me to another place and another time. If this had been sent as an email, it might have been lost in the endless updating of laptops and operating systems. But because it was a letter, I added it to a box in the cupboard some years ago, knowing I would want to read it again and again and again.
Letters like these become even more valuable after someone dies, when you go hunting for a record of their voice. And knowing that the person held a pen to write the words elevates the correspondence far beyond something sent via phone or computer. But it is not just the words they write or the expressions they use; it is also the very particular form their lettering takes. I can recognise the bulbous, slightly rounded N that my mum always used, remembering all those times I tried to forge her signature and failed dismally. Her handwriting, like that of my dad’s and of my grandparents, was distinctive, as much their signature as their name.
