‘Sometimes you just have to let it out’: An Interview with Clive Cass

By Amy Plant

Edited by Naomi Adam & Maria Rocha

‘You know, there’s a saying, ‘better out than in’, and sometimes you have to take a chance of letting it out. And usually it’s okay and it relieves you.’

The latest volume of The Letters Page features an evocative letter from Clive Cass, sharing his journey of self-discovery, which culminated in him telling Karen, his wife of over thirty years, that he loved her for the first time. Over Teams, I sat down with Clive to discuss the story behind his letter.

Letter writing is not Clive’s typical fare. As a dyslexic accountant, he spent much of his school life feeling ‘ashamed’ of his writing. Despite this, Clive attended a National Gallery webinar hosted by our very own editor-in-chief, Jon McGregor, on the art of letter writing. Clive tells me he has attended many of the National Gallery’s webinars over the years because of his passion for the history of art (you can read more about the connections between this subject and letter writing in our previous feature). Clive explained that he wanted to try something new by attending Jon’s session:

‘I do the history of art webinars on my own. That is my creative outlet. I do feel that I have a creativity inside me that I find hard to express because I’m not very good at drawing or letter writing. But deep down, I have quite a depth of creativity and I tried to channel that by, in this instance, having a go at the writing.’

The result of this webinar was the letter Clive sent to us. The letter was addressed to Aran, the mentor of a mindset seminar Clive had attended. In the seminar, Clive revealed that he had never told Karen that he loved her, and he credits Aran’s guidance with helping him finally express this to his wife. When I asked Clive what Karen thought about his letter being published in our journal, he shared:

‘From a personal point of view, I knew she might be sensitive about me having revealed something like this in the mindset forum and also publishing it. But I had to tell her, you know, and she was really, really receptive to it and thought it was so nicely written for me, by my standards of writing. She was very supportive.’

Clive’s letter made a strong impact on us at The Letters Page because of its emotional vulnerability. It takes real bravery to confess something so personal to a small group of people in a mindset seminar, but sending it to a literary journal, where it could potentially be published, is truly commendable.

Clive references how ‘unusual’ his story is in his letter. He expressed how his sons are more emotionally open than he was at their age:

‘We all need to do some work, some more so than others. I do notice from my sons in their early thirties – especially in the last ten years or so – that when I hear them chat to their friends, they chat about things that we never talked to our friends about. They’re very emotionally open and vulnerable. And I think that is a good thing.’

Clive’s story is backed by statistics. An Ipsos Mori poll found that men over the age of thirty-five were the most likely age group to be open about their feelings. Of all generations, baby boomers (born between 1946 and 1964) have been most affected by so-called toxic masculinity, often raised by parents who emphasised self-reliance and emotional restraint. This context further amplifies the emotional resonance of Clive’s letter. The journey of self-growth it documents culminated in him shedding his emotional restraint to finally express his feelings to Karen.

Baby boomers were not only raised in an environment where traditional notions of masculinity reigned unchallenged, but also one in which neurodiversity was often overlooked. I asked Clive about his experience going through school with dyslexia, which was largely unrecognised for most of the twentieth century. He admitted:

‘I don’t think I was ever formally diagnosed. I’ve only really diagnosed myself as an adult having seen one of my sons have it. I think it left me in a really uncomfortable situation because you were embarrassed about your spelling and you were thought to be just not very clever, and careless.’

National Dyslexia Day is marked annually on October 8th, and Clive’s letter was sent to us on October 10th. He tells me this was ‘no more than a fluke’, but it feels strangely poetic nonetheless. Towards the end of our call, I asked Clive if writing the letter had inspired him to write more in the future, to which he replied:

‘Probably no more so than in the past where I did a few blog posts on topics that spoke to me – about Leonard Cohen and Steve Jobs from Apple. It hasn’t inspired me to do anymore only because I haven’t really got the time. But I’m genuinely very proud that you are going to publish it. I’m really chuffed, to be honest.’

We’re chuffed too. It’s especially gratifying to publish someone who was directly inspired to submit to our journal through Jon’s letter-writing webinar. Through his letter, Clive demonstrates how meaningful the form can be: it’s a tool of self-reflection and a way of expressing gratitude to those who have helped you on your journey, whoever they may be.

---

We publish stories, essays, poems, memoir, reportage, criticism, recipes, travelogue, and any hybrid forms, so long as they come to us in the form of a letter. We are looking for writers of all nationalities and ages, both established and emerging.

Your letter must be sent in the post, to:

The Letters Page, School of English, University of Nottingham, NG7 2RD, UK