The Oppenheimer Report 8/12/19

Shauna and I watched an interesting movie last night, entitled Can You Ever Forgive Me?, starring Melissa McCarthy in an uncharacteristically dramatic role. Based on the novel by the same name, it is the story of author Lee Israel, who was infamous for having forged around 400 letters she pretended were written by famous authors and celebrities. She then sold these forgeries to collectors, with remarkable success. Eventually she was caught, but then after receiving a relatively lenient punishment, she went on to write a successful book about her con. I found the story fascinating, and her forged letters were clearly works of art. She went so far in her quest for authenticity as to use typewriters that would have been used by the authors she was impersonating, and she was masterful in her ability to mimic the voice and tone of the authors she copied. I heartily recommend the movie to anyone who might be interested in the subject of letter-writing; admittedly a small group. The story was really about a frustrated, troubled writer who could not make ends meet. Israel had received some early recognition for her original work but, like so many creative artists, she was her own worst enemy. I found her character fascinating and complex

I used to be an avid correspondent, and I loved sending and receiving letters and postcards. Back when I was taking a lot of photos I even had some of my own pictures printed as postcards. When I was actively pursuing a music publishing deal, I’d send out my submissions to various publishers and record labels, along with one of these cards, self-addressed for a response. Most of the time the people to whom I submitted my work wouldn’t write back, but sometimes they did. One of my favorite rejections notices, I think from Capital Records, read: “This song goes on and on and nowhere! Pass.” I was so deluded that I was encouraged that a big record company even wrote back!

I think letter writing is a lost art, and I receive precious few these days. I still write them from time to time, perhaps as a tip of the hat to my dad. He was a great letter writer, and he could make a mundane story into a hilarious adventure, simply with his wit and his uncanny ability to embellish. I think it all boils down to telling a good story. The other day, I was ranting in this report about the death of creativity and storytelling. So many of the blockbuster movies are remakes of old stories, or else they are animated. I find it ironic that the animated films are often better written than the films with real actors. To me, this is a sign of the times. While I am hardly a scholar of the English language, I am more and more impressed when people who correspond with me, show even a modicum of communication skills. My bar gets lowered every day. In these times when people cannot be bothered to speak in complete sentences, I think of my letters as a way of exercising my decaying communication skills. When I write letters, I am forced to consider what I am about to say, rather than texting the first misfire that comes into my addled brain. I am also likely to edit what I wrote (or have my long-suffering wife edit it for me). I’m not sure the world would be a better place if we became better communicators, but like, um, ya know, it like, couldn’t hurt. RU feelin’ me?   

Written by Jamie Oppenheimer ©2019
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
jamieoppenheimersongwriter@gmail.com

Jamie Oppenheimer, Songwriter, Author, Blogger, Radio Producer, & Host has been writing THE OPPENHEIMER REPORT every MONDAY since 1992 and has published the articles on his blog since 2006. We are including Jamie's weekly reports, as a new feature of #HuntersBayRadio, The Bay 88.7FM.
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