Love Letters, Napoleon, and The Value in Living

In the world’s broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

- Excerpt from Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When I was in middle school, my mom bought me a book called "The World's Greatest Love Letters." As a bible-thumping, socially conservative Korean mom, she was genuinely concerned that her son was a closet homosexual (I was terribly shy at talking to pretty girls. I'm still terribly shy but I'm better at hiding it now) God bless her heart, she thought buying me this book would give her son some game and get a girlfriend. If anything, it made me "gayer."

But, nonetheless, I got hooked. Containing a rich collection of personal correspondences between nobles, statesmen, and even clergymen of the 15th to the 20th century, it detailed the private romances of many of the big names throughout history.

Who could have thought Napoleon, the “terror of mankind”, offered such tender affections to his beloved? Or that Alexander Pope, who epitomized the cool-headed reason of the Age of Enlightenment, could write in such passionate and excited poetry?

Fascinated, I dedicated myself to this bygone and dignified craft, endeavoring to reach parity with these scholars of love, and making a name for myself among friends as an irresistible Casanova or a breaker of maiden’s hearts. Funnily enough, I couldn't elicit the same reaction from my actual crushes.

But I think more than practical, love letters have taught me to appreciate the impractical. The more childish, naive, or romantic the dream, the closer you gotta hold it to your heart. The value of living, much like in writing love letters, isn't really about avoiding failure or rejection; it's about making something meaningful, even if that means looking ridiculous in the process.