So something rather remarkable happened recently. I'm a big fan of writing to my favorite luminaries, whether musicians, actors, authors, intellectuals, what have you. And I'm a big fan of John le Carre' (that's a pen name; his real one's David Cornwell), the writer of such classics as The Spy Who Came In From the Cold, The Russia House, The Constant Gardener (a novel about modern-day Africa) and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. He's regarded by those who don't know what they're talking about as a "spy novelist", and by those who do know what they're talking about as one of the greatest living writers in the English language.
Naturally, I decided to write him a letter. The catch is, being in his 80s and one of the most popular and recognized authors in the world, he chooses not to respond to fan correspondence, and has famously stopped doing interviews. It says so right there on his website, albeit in very friendly verbiage that explains he's not a crank, just an extraordinarily busy octogenarian who's got better things to do than chat with admirers. The guy's been ranked #22 in a list of the 50 greatest British writers since 1945 by the UK paper The Times. He's no slouch, is what I'm getting at.
Which makes the fact that he did indeed respond to me, and the manner in which he did so, rather remarkable. More than that, it's something I'll cherish till the end of my days. Admiring him the way I do, and seeing the words he chose to share with me, I'm not ashamed to say I nearly cried the first few times I read his reply.
I never thought a simple email from a stranger would become one of the happiest experiences of my life.
Dear Mr. Cornwell,
My name is Brandon Tucker. I am American, the father of three young children and like countless others the world over, an admirer of your work for many years. I know you value your privacy, and are no doubt busy with current projects, and that you will not respond to this letter, if it even comes to your attention. I am not asking for any sort of response. I simply wish to thank you.
About a year ago I received a certificate of appreciation from the Blood Bank of Alaska (my wife and I, both proud liberals, moved up here from northern California in 2005, shortly before Sarah Palin was elected Governor and began her rise to infamy). The certificate thanked me for my donations going back to our first year here, and celebrated in large, bold print the number of gallons of blood I'd given in that time.
I had never donated blood before, being irrationally afraid of the needle. But I had recently read The Constant Gardener. Your books have always inspired my imagination, but here was one which inspired my conscience. I felt awful and challenged at the same time, and realized I had been living too selfishly. I wanted to lend a hand, somehow, to someone. Raising three kids on a low-level state employee's salary leaves little room for discretionary spending, but blood, I thought, was one commodity I could well afford to part with. And so I have, every two months since.
When the earthquake struck Port au Prince in 2010, we enlisted our kids to help send small donations to Relief International and Partners in Health. We did the same a year later after Japan's earthquake and tsunami, showing the children videos of the destruction, letting them read what emergency services were doing for victims and having the kids type and click to send the funds on their way.
Just prior to a recent Christmas, we all went on a grocery shopping spree, then as a family unloaded several bags of food and toiletries at a local church for distribution around our area. We told the kids many of their own school friends would no doubt be eating from what we were donating, and that there is no shame in it. I want them to understand that whether down the street or around the world, there are people who need help, and that we are in an unusually advantageous position to offer it.
If you have read this far, I've already taken too much of your time. Just please know that while I have long adored your books, I feel I have become a better person because of The Constant Gardener - a gift which I try hard to share with my children. The fact that I am now hungrily reading The Mission Song only affirms my decision to do so.
Thank you, Mr. Cornwell, for your priceless storytelling. But thank you also for wielding that rare ability to help us all see the world more clearly - that so much of it is cruel and unbalanced, and that we have the obligation and means to help make it a better place.
I wish you all the best.
-Brandon Tucker
______________________________________________________________
Dear Brandon Tucker,
Your message has been forwarded to John le Carré, and he sends the following reply::
'Dear Mr Tucker,
I was deeply touched by your email and thank you sincerely for it. It has been a continuing delight to me that readers have responded so warmly to The Constant Gardener. At the time of its publication, I was overwhelmed by letters of thanks from Oxfam and a bunch of equally admirable NGOs. But such a personal letter as yours brings a tear to my eye, and I thank you profoundly for it. How perfectly awful to think of Sarah Palin presiding over your life, but I am sure that she too will pass her sell-by date quite soon.
With warmest wishes,
David Cornwell'
About a year ago I received a certificate of appreciation from the Blood Bank of Alaska (my wife and I, both proud liberals, moved up here from northern California in 2005, shortly before Sarah Palin was elected Governor and began her rise to infamy). The certificate thanked me for my donations going back to our first year here, and celebrated in large, bold print the number of gallons of blood I'd given in that time.
I had never donated blood before, being irrationally afraid of the needle. But I had recently read The Constant Gardener. Your books have always inspired my imagination, but here was one which inspired my conscience. I felt awful and challenged at the same time, and realized I had been living too selfishly. I wanted to lend a hand, somehow, to someone. Raising three kids on a low-level state employee's salary leaves little room for discretionary spending, but blood, I thought, was one commodity I could well afford to part with. And so I have, every two months since.
When the earthquake struck Port au Prince in 2010, we enlisted our kids to help send small donations to Relief International and Partners in Health. We did the same a year later after Japan's earthquake and tsunami, showing the children videos of the destruction, letting them read what emergency services were doing for victims and having the kids type and click to send the funds on their way.
Just prior to a recent Christmas, we all went on a grocery shopping spree, then as a family unloaded several bags of food and toiletries at a local church for distribution around our area. We told the kids many of their own school friends would no doubt be eating from what we were donating, and that there is no shame in it. I want them to understand that whether down the street or around the world, there are people who need help, and that we are in an unusually advantageous position to offer it.
If you have read this far, I've already taken too much of your time. Just please know that while I have long adored your books, I feel I have become a better person because of The Constant Gardener - a gift which I try hard to share with my children. The fact that I am now hungrily reading The Mission Song only affirms my decision to do so.
Thank you, Mr. Cornwell, for your priceless storytelling. But thank you also for wielding that rare ability to help us all see the world more clearly - that so much of it is cruel and unbalanced, and that we have the obligation and means to help make it a better place.
I wish you all the best.
-Brandon Tucker
______________________________________________________________
Dear Brandon Tucker,
Your message has been forwarded to John le Carré, and he sends the following reply::
'Dear Mr Tucker,
I was deeply touched by your email and thank you sincerely for it. It has been a continuing delight to me that readers have responded so warmly to The Constant Gardener. At the time of its publication, I was overwhelmed by letters of thanks from Oxfam and a bunch of equally admirable NGOs. But such a personal letter as yours brings a tear to my eye, and I thank you profoundly for it. How perfectly awful to think of Sarah Palin presiding over your life, but I am sure that she too will pass her sell-by date quite soon.
With warmest wishes,
David Cornwell'
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