‘Possible Futures, Fading Presents’: A Look at Letters 3 and 4 of Volume 6
By Lily Simpson
Edited by Immy Sykes and Naomi Adam
In this series, we will be going through the letters of Volume 6 which is available to purchase now, two at a time, tracing the threads that bind them together. In this article, we delve into letters 3 and 4 from Claire Miller and B. Lawrence.
Claire Miller’s letter is addressed to her future child, E – a child who does not yet, and may never, exist. The letter situates itself in an air of ethical uncertainty as Miller ponders whether it would be moral to bring a child into our world, one that is so unstable and capable of cruelty. Miller assumes a realist stance, rhetorically guiding the reader through the author’s anxiety and conflicting attitudes towards the future of herself and her child. What unfolds is not a resolution, but an uneasy negation between apprehension and love.
What struck us so deeply about Claire’s letter is the honesty and introspection behind the thoughts of her impending decision, paired with small glimpses of hope that can be seen in her descriptions of joy found in moments such as ‘kitchen dances’ and ‘cry[ing] together at that episode of Fresh Prince’. Miller deftly captures the juxtaposition of a harsh world being able to hold such beautiful, tender moments within it.
‘And oh my god, we’ll laugh so hard we’ll have to keep paracetamol packets up our sleeves.’
CLAIRE MILLER, ‘DO YOU WANT THIS?’ IN THE LETTERS PAGE, VOL. 6
As the letter progresses, her anxiety and uncertainty gathers momentum through multiple rhetorical questions about her potential child’s personality and behaviour – will they become delinquent, will they loathe her? The rhetorical tone adds a layer of universal uncertainty that for readers to connect with. And yet, through all this apprehension, hope filters in, like sun rays peeking through the blinds. The letter does not collapse under its own weight, it continues through the uncertainty: love persisting.
The fourth letter of this volume is brought to us by B. Lawrence. He, like Miller, addresses a recipient who cannot read his words: the city of Nottingham itself. The tone of this letter differs from Miller’s, adopting a voice of quiet indignation at what he believes to be the deterioration of Nottingham.
Lawrence intertwines his fate with the city’s; he writes that, ‘I’m dying and you’re dying with me’, creating heart-breaking imagery of losing something you love as if it were a part of you. He threads himself through the letter, covering details of time spent in Nottingham, from working in its library, to critiquing the new gift shop in Sherwood Forest. Even moments that seem mundane to some carry a sense of loss, as though each fond memory is deteriorating before him.
Together, these letters extend the central motifs of the volume in distinct but resonant directions. One looks towards a possible future, the other towards a fading present, yet both are shaped by uncertainty. And with both letters addressing recipients that cannot reply, these authors return us to a central tension of letter-writing: the impulse to speak, even when no answer is guaranteed.
Volume 6 of The Letters Page is out now, and available to purchase here. We hope you enjoy the letters we have collated and are able to find even more connections and themes between them. You can also read our reflections on letters 1 and 2 by clicking here.
The Letters Page will be closed for submissions until late 2027 and won’t be in the office. But if you write to us your letters will certainly be kept safe and find their way to us eventually. It would, as always, be great to hear from you.
The Letters Page, School of English, University of Nottingham, NG7 2RD, UK
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