{"id":231,"date":"2003-06-28T23:26:41","date_gmt":"2003-06-29T06:26:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stefangeens.com\/?p=231"},"modified":"2003-06-28T23:26:41","modified_gmt":"2003-06-29T06:26:41","slug":"the-letter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stefangeens.com\/2001-2013\/2003\/06\/the-letter\/","title":{"rendered":"The letter"},"content":{"rendered":"

In the summer of 1999 my morning commute went thus: I would walk up St. Marks Place<\/a> to the N\/R subway under Broadway, which took me to the Financial District, home of the whopping equity bubble.<\/p>\n

Just off St. Marks and 2nd Ave<\/a>, I would stop by the Porto Rico Importing Co. to pick up a coffee. At the time, I still smoked, and because it is hard to light a cigarette with matches while holding a scalding beverageI always used those free flat matchbooks from grocery stores because the half-life of any lighter in my possession was measured in hours.<\/span>, I would first set the cup on the window ledge of a bank just next to the store. The cigarette and coffee lasted exactly as long as it took for me to get from there to Broadway. My commute was well-rehearsed.<\/p>\n

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One drizzly morning, the window ledge had an old, damp letter lying on it. Absent an owner, I took it. Two things were immediately clear: It was addressed to a Margaretha Lennerbring, living in Stockholm, and it was mailed in 1970. I couldn’t read Swedish, but I knew several people who did. I showed it to them. It was a love letter! A young Swedish man doing his military service had written to his girlfriend
 
Lucidor turns out to be a renowned 17th-century Swedish poet<\/a>, not the least for having composed some of the country’s favorite drinking songs<\/a>.<\/span>.<\/p>\n

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I kept the letter. Over the past four years, I’ve come to feel responsible for it, and these last 9 months, as my Swedish has gotten progressively better, I have returned to it periodically, as a yardstick for my comprehension.<\/p>\n

I have a theory as to why it was on the ledge that morning: In 1999, the corner of St. Marks and 2nd Ave still had second-hand book peddlers on the sidewalk. The peddlers feature tangentially in the 1992 King Missile<\/a> cult spoken word\/song hit Detachable Penis<\/em> (Lyrics<\/a>).<\/span> I imagine somebody bought a book there, found this incomprehensible letter in it, and discarded it. Perhaps they couldn’t bring themselves to actually throw it in a garbage can, so they left it on the window ledge, feeling guilty, not wanting to favor the cause of entropy (our common enemy).<\/p>\n

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This letter has been important to someone, important enough perhaps even to drag it across the Atlantic. All would be clear were I to find Margaretha. To that end, the Swedish studies task I set myself yesterday was translating the letter in full:<\/p>\n

Page 1<\/span>
 <\/p>\n

H\u00e4ssleholm<\/a>, 1\/7\/70 (the night before)<\/p>\n

Hey sweetheart,<\/p>\n

Thanks for the letter, it was really kind of you. I was in such a good mood all Monday thanks to your letter. It’s really great that you have already met Timo, and, by the way, say hi to him for me.<\/p>\n

I have been to Sergels<\/a>– and H\u00f6torget [Shopping center in Stockholm].<\/p>\n

Here at PZ [P2? army regiment?] it’s the same shit as usual, lying and crawling in shit, and last night (Tuesday) we thoroughly cleaned our whole [military] company, although it was not approved, so we can do it all again, unfortunately.<\/span>:<\/p>\n

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Page 2<\/span>
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It is not so fun to go home to Halmstad<\/a> when you aren’t there, the only fun thing was when I, Kent and Gustav (Kent’s father) worked on Kent’s boat and drank beer (and I thought of you, you sweet “witch”). I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you a witch. On Saturday we were in Mellby<\/a>, first at Christer’s house, and we were all in a good mood (Christer, Kent, Roger, and I), although after a few hours in Mellby, Liza came with another boy, whom I’ve never seen before, and then Kent became angry (I think it was jealousy) and we went home early.<\/span>:<\/p>\n

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Page 3<\/span>
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On Sunday we continued to work on Kent’s boat until 5pm and then I had to dash home to eat and then I took the train to H\u00e4ssleholm<\/a>. By the way, little Maggan didn’t come down because Ryden and I were at her aunt’s place (I think) and she said that Maggan had hurt herself and so couldn’t come, but we got a free snack [fika] out of it.<\/p>\n

Now you have to wait a moment because I am going to take a smoking break. I’ll be back soon, darling. Now I have smoked.<\/p>\n

I’ll write a letter before I come up to you because I must figure out train schedules<\/span>:<\/p>\n

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Page 4<\/span>
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and connections so that I can tell you when I come up to Stockholm so that you can come and meet me at the station. I can perhaps already come on Thursday noon, if that’s okay with you, because I long for you so much. I get paid about 350 kr now in wages because we will definitely go to G\u00f6teborg<\/a> LV 6<\/a> on July 27.<\/p>\n

Kiss and hug from Bengt and I hope that you don’t forget me.<\/p>\n

Write soon darling and I will read your letter many times so that I stay in a good mood. Bye [Maggan…?] sweetheart.<\/span>:<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Here are the most important clues, then:<\/p>\n