by Shaun Usher
Above all remember, dear, that you have a great opportunity. You are in one of the world’s best schools, in one of the world’s greatest modern empires. Millions of boys and girls all over this world would give almost anything they possess to be where you are. You are there by no desert or merit of yours, but only by lucky chance.
Deserve it, then. Study, do your work. Be honest, frank and fearless and get some grasp of the real values of life. You will meet, of course, curious little annoyances. People will wonder at your dear brown and the sweet crinkley hair. But that simply is of no importance and will soon be forgotten. Remember that most folk laugh at anything unusual, whether it is beautiful, fine or not. You, however, must not laugh at yourself. You must know that brown is as pretty as white or prettier and crinkley hair as straight even though it is harder to comb. The main thing is the YOU beneath the clothes and skin—the ability to do, the will to conquer, the determination to understand and know this great, wonderful, curious world. Don’t shrink from new experiences and custom. Take the cold bath bravely. Enter into the spirit of your big bed-room. Enjoy what is and not pine for what is not. Read some good, heavy, serious books just for discipline: Take yourself in hand and master yourself. Make yourself do unpleasant things, so as to gain the upper hand of your soul.
Above all remember: your father loves you and believes in you and expects you to be a wonderful woman.
I shall write each week and expect a weekly letter from you.
Lovingly yours,
Papa
Letter No. 047
EVERY OUNCE OF MY ENERGY
BERTRAND RUSSELL TO SIR OSWALD MOSLEY
January 22nd, 1962
Bertrand Russell, one of the great intellectuals of his generation, was known by most as the founder of analytic philosophy, but he was actually a man of many talents: a pioneering mathematician, an accomplished logician, a tireless activist, a respected historian, and a Nobel Prize-winning writer, to name but a handful. When he wrote this principled letter at the beginning of 1962, Russell was 89 years old and clearly still a man of morals who stood firm in his beliefs. Its recipient was Sir Oswald Mosley, a man most famous for founding, in 1932, the British Union of Fascists.
22 January 1962
Sir Oswald Mosley,
5, Lowndes Court,
Lowndes Square,
London, S.W.1.
Dear Sir Oswald,
Thank you for your letter and for your enclosures. I have given some thought to our recent correspondence. It is always difficult to decide on how to respond to people whose ethos is so alien and, in fact, repellant to one’s own. It is not that I take exception to the general points made by you but that every ounce of my energy has been devoted to an active opposition to cruel bigotry, compulsive violence, and the sadistic persecution which has characterised the philosophy and practice of fascism.
I feel obliged to say that the emotional universes we inhabit are so distinct, and in deepest ways opposed, that nothing fruitful or sincere could ever emerge from association between us.
I should like you to understand the intensity of this conviction on my part. It is not out of any attempt to be rude that I say this but because of all that I value in human experience and human achievement.
Yours sincerely,
Bertrand Russell
Letter No. 048
THIS WRETCHED COMEDY AS A MAN!
LILI ELVENES TO “CHRISTIAN”
January 29th, 1930
In 1930, with support from her wife and fellow artist Gerda Gottlieb, a 47-year-old Danish transgender artist named Lili Elvenes – born Einar Wegener – travelled to Germany to undergo one of the very first examples of gender reassignment. She had identified as a woman for some time and sought to transition fully by way of procedures that are thought to have included radiation therapy, removal of penis and testicles, and the insertion of a uterus; this in addition to undeveloped ovaries that were found to already exist in Lili’s abdomen. Sadly, the uterine transplant was later rejected by her body and Lili died. Her story was told in Fra mand til kvinde: Lili Elbes bekendelser, a biography edited by Poul Knudsen; an English-language edition soon followed, titled Man Into Woman: The First Sex Change, from which this letter comes, written by Lili to a relative in the midst of the surgery.
Note: In the book, and in the letter, pseudonyms were used to protect the identities of all involved. As a result, Lili Elvenes became, and is still widely known as, Lili Elbes; her birth name, Einar Wegener, became Andreas Sparre; doctors and relatives are also renamed.
Lili Elvenes in Paris, 1926
Paris
29th January, 1930
Dear Christian,
You have not heard from me for a long time, because I have been able to tell you nothing good about Lili. From time to time I have been examined by several doctors, but without result. Throughout they prescribed sedative remedies, which left me no better nor wiser than I was before. For I want to know what is happening to me, even if it hurts. After consulting with Grete, Elena took me to one of her personal acquaintances who received me three hours before he was leaving Paris. Then something happened which sounds almost like a miracle! I had a consultation with the famous surgeon and woman’s doctor Professor Werner Kreutz, of Dresden. Strangely enough, he resembled you. He examined me a long time, and then declared that my case was so rare that only one similar case had been known up till now. He added that in the condition in which I am at present, I could hardly be regarded as a living creature, because the ray treatment had been a great mistake, especially as it had not been preceded by microscopical examination. Now he fears that this treatment in the dark may have destroyed my organs – male as well as female. Consequently, he wants me to go to Berlin as quickly as possible for the purpose of a microscopical examination.
Some time afterwards he will operate on me himself. He wants to remove the dead (and formerly imperfect) male organs, and to restore the female organs with new and fresh material. Then it will be Lili who will survive!
Her weak girl’s body will then be able to develop, and she will feel as young as her new and fresh organs. Dear Christian, I am now sitting here and weeping like a child while I am writing you these lines. It seems so like a miracle that I dare not believe it. One thing, however, consoles me – that were it otherwise I must soon die. Grete and I believe we are dreaming, and are fearful of waking. It is too wonderful to think that Lili will be able to live, and that she will be the happiest girl in the world – and that this ghastly nightmare of my life is drawing to an end. This wretched comedy as a man! Without Grete I should have thrown up the sponge long ago. But in these dark days I have had a fresh opportunity of seeing what a splendid girl she is… she is an angel. Overexertions, her own sufferings, have left her unscathed. She has contrived to work for two, now that I am no longer worth much. I do what I am able, of course, and have exhibited and sold with success in all the important salons. But now all this is over. I am no longer fit for anything. I am like a wretched grub, which is waiting to become a butterfly. The operation is urgent, and the doctor would like me to proceed to Berlin immediately, as some twenty days must elapse between the first examination and the operation. And I must be in Dresden on the day he is ready to create Lili. He will send me medicine, which I am to take, in order to support the internal organs and thereby keep me alive until then. For practical reasons I begged for some delay, and I told him that I should prefer so to arrange matters as to proceed to Berlin via Copenhagen, as I wanted first to hold an exhibition in Denmark. I would then proceed from Berlin to Dresden at the beginning of April.
This does not particularly please the doctor; but he understood that I had suggested this for practical reasons.
Now, I do not know whether it is due to excitement, but my condition has worsened to such an extent that I no longer feel able to make preparations for an exhibition and attend to everything it involves – I realize that I have no time to lose.
Hence, I wan
t your help.
Will you lend me the money for the operation and the stay in the nursing home? I do not know how much it will cost. I only know that Elena has so arranged it that the professor is taking an exceptionally low fee. Out of consideration for Grete I dare not take money from our savings; the less so as our trip to Rome and my illness has cost us so much.
I – or we – have deposited many pictures with Messrs. Heyman and Haslund, of Copenhagen, and I estimate their value to be between 7,000 and 10,000 kronen. I do not, however, know what the operation will cost, but I estimate it will come to between 4,000 and 5,000 kronen in all. I give you all these pictures in Denmark by way of security in the event of my death – and in any event. If the affair turns out badly, the pictures can be sold, and if it turns out well, we can soon repay you the money. Our earning powers are good, and we have many large orders.
Tell no one except my sister anything of the contents of this letter, and be good enough to let me know what you decide as quickly as possible, first by telegram and then by letter.
It is only because I have the feeling that death is on my track that I send you this letter. Up till now I have never incurred debts in any quarter. Warmest greetings to you and the sister from Grete and
Andreas
Letter No. 049
THERE ARE TWO WAYS IN WHICH THIS CAN BE DONE
BERTHA BREWSTER TO DAILY TELEGRAPH
February, 1913
It wasn’t until the Representation of the People (Equal Franchise) Act in 1928 that women in the UK were finally given the same voting rights as men. Campaigners had been pushing for such a development for decades, however, progress had been far too slow for some. In 1903, a small group of frustrated activists, headed by Emmeline Pankhurst, broke away from the Suffragists and chose to attack the system more aggressively by smashing windows, burning down buildings, chaining themselves to Buckingham Palace, and spending time in prison, all in an effort to be heard. One of these “suffragettes”, Emily Davison, was even killed when she stepped in front of King George V’s horse at the Epsom Derby. On February 26th, 1913, with the protests as forceful as ever, this letter appeared in the Daily Telegraph, written by a suffragette named Bertha Brewster.
A suffragette is led away from a protest by police, 1906
Sir,
Everyone seems to agree upon the necessity of putting a stop to Suffragist outrages; but no one seems certain how to do so. There are two, and only two, ways in which this can be done. Both will be effectual.
Kill every woman in the United Kingdom.
Give women the vote.
Yours truly,
Bertha Brewster
Letter No. 050
YOURS SINCERELY, ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
J. K. ROWLING TO STEVEN ARMES
2001
Steven Armes has an impressive CV – impressive enough, one would think, to secure a teaching job of his choosing. Currently Professor of Polymer and Colloid Chemistry at the University of Sheffield, in the past he has worked at the Los Alamos National Laboratory, one of the largest and most revered research institutions in the world, has authored hundreds of scientific papers, and in 2014 became a Fellow of the Royal Society for his pioneering contributions to science. In 2001, believing himself to be a perfect candidate despite his being a Muggle (a person living outside the magical community), he applied for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the fictional institution made famous by J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter book series. This is his application letter, and Albus Dumbledore’s reply.
The School of Chemistry, Physics
and Environmental Science
13.1.2001
Teaching Post Vacancy at Hogwarts School
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I wish to apply for the ‘Defence Against the Dark Arts’ teaching post vacancy at Hogwarts School. I am well aware of the chequered history of the former occupants of this post but, in this darkest of times (is it really true that He Who Should Not Be Named has returned, with all of his former powers?), I feel obliged to offer my services in the continuing struggle against the cursed Death Eaters.
Although most of my professional experiences has been gained in the Muggle world, I would like to point out that I studied at Bristol University under the supervision of the internationally-renowned auror, Professor B. Vincent. Furthermore, I spent 22 months working in a dungeon at the notorious Los Alamos National Laboratory, New Mexico in 1987–89 (see enclosed CV). This US nuclear weapons laboratory is surely one of the Darkest military research laboratories in the (Muggle or Wizarding) world. In addition, in the last eleven years at Sussex University I have worked extensively on Polypyrrole, one of the Darkest conducting polymers known to Alchemy. Finally, I have spent the last seven years becoming acquainted with a budding wizard named Thomas Armes, whom I can assure you is just as much of a handful as Harry Potter. Only yesterday I caught him practising illegal curses on his younger sister, Kate.
Currently I lead an international wizard group of twelve PhD* students and research sorcerers who are working on new Colloidal Potions and the Alchemy of Polymers (I believe these are known as ‘plastics’ in the Muggle world). I am the principal auror or co-auror of more than 140 learned alchemical articles, although most of these have only appeared in Muggle journals.
I have checked my contract with my current Muggle employers, and I am pleased to confirm my availability from Sept 1st, 2001 if selected for this most important post.
Thanking you in advance for your careful consideration of my application and I look forward to hearing from you in the near future.
Yours sincerely,
(Signed)
Steven P. Armes
Professor of Colloid and Polymer Science
P.S. Please forgive this application by Muggle post but I do not trust the owls around these parts - they have red eyes!
*Philosophy of Dark Arts
* * *
Dear Mr. Armes,
Re: Your Application for the Post of Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher,
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
It is with regret that I must inform you that the above post has been filled.
I hope your natural disappointment will be alleviated to some extent by knowing that rarely has an application caused such hilarity and mirth among the Board of Governors. You have the distinction of being the first Muggle ever to apply for a job at Hogwarts and the Board of Governors were keen to call you for interview. I trust you will attribute my vetoing of this suggestion, not to any doubts of your competence or courage, but the wish and savagery more often associated with the home-life of trolls. You might take further consolation from the fact that the post is almost certain to become available again within a year. Job security is not, unfortunately, an attraction we can offer to Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers.
I was interested to learn that your son Thomas shows early promise in the area of curses and jinxes. I shall look forward to seeing him at Hogwarts in September 2005. Thank you once again for your interest in joining our establishment and I wish you every success in your alchemical endeavours.
Yours sincerely,
[Signed]
Albus Dumbledore
Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards
Letter No. 051
I’VE GOT A HUNCH
THOMAS WOLFE TO MAXWELL PERKINS
August 12th, 1938
In July of 1938, as he travelled the American West having recently handed in a completed manuscript to his publisher, renowned novelist Thomas Wolfe was struck down with pneumonia and taken to hospital. He was soon diagnosed as having tuberculosis of the brain from which he would never recover; Wolfe died on September 15th, aged just 37. A month before his death, as he lay in hospital certain that he was soon to pass away, Wolfe wrote this moving letter to his old editor Maxwell P
erkins, a once dear friend with whom he had fallen out in 1936 but still loved dearly.
* * *
Providence Hospital
Seattle, Washington
August 12, 1938
Dear Max: I’m sneaking this against orders, but “I’ve got a hunch” — and I wanted to write these words to you.
I’ve made a long voyage and been to a strange country, and I’ve seen the dark man very close; and I don’t think I was too much afraid of him, but so much of mortality still clings to me — I wanted most desperately to live and still do, and I thought about you all a thousand times, and wanted to see you all again, and there was the impossible anguish and regret of all the work I had not done, of all the work I had to do — and I know now I’m just a grain of dust, and I feel as if a great window has been opened on life I did not know about before — and if I come through this, I hope to God I am a better man, and in some strange way I can’t explain, I know I am a deeper and a wiser one. If I get on my feet and out of here, it will be months before I head back, but if I get on my feet, I’ll come back.
Whatever happens — I had this “hunch” and wanted to write you and tell you, no matter what happens or has happened, I shall always think of you and feel about you the way it was that Fourth of July day three years ago when you met me at the boat, and we went out on the café on the river and had a drink and later went on top of the tall building, and all the strangeness and the glory and the power of life and of the city was below.
Yours always,
Tom
Letter No. 052