The epistolary novel is a narrative traditionally told through the medium of letters. The genre now includes any written media, such as diary entries, “found” documents, emails, text messages, dispatches, and articles. It is one of the oldest literary genres, as tales told through letters date as far back as early antiquity. One of the earliest examples of epistolary narratives is found in classical literature. Ovid’s Heroides (c. 100 BC) comprises a collection of 15 epistolary poems from mythological women to their absent lovers and features the intimate and confessional tone that would later qualify the genre.

During the Renaissance period, European writers sought to experiment by including letters in their prose fiction to portray moral quandaries, ethical debates, and dialogue between characters. In the 18th century, epistolary novels encountered a marked popularity as literacy levels rose—particularly in middle-class women—and the reading public favored the letter form for its immediacy, air of credibility, and fictional glimpses into the lives of others. Authors encouraged their readers to imagine themselves as wallflowers to private conversations, eavesdropping on personal correspondences and learning the secrets of characters as they read. In England, Samuel Richardson’s Pamela—the story of a servant resisting her master’s advances—and Clarissa—a monumental tragedy—became defining works of the genre. Both novels demonstrated the emotional and psychological depth letters could convey to readers. Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Julie, ou la Nouvelle Héloïse and Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther melded with the rise of Romanticism as their epistolary novels explored passion, love, and despair. Quintessential Georgian-era author Fanny Burney demonstrated letters’ capacity for wit and social satire through her acclaimed novel Evelina.

By the 19th century, interest in epistolary novels waned as realist narratives became popular. Nevertheless, letters still featured in iconic works, such as early drafts of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice (though she would later go on to revise them); Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (which is framed through Captain Walton’s letters); and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (which diversifies the written media by including diary entries, telegrams, and newspaper articles to emphasize the tension and suspense in the narrative). Where the Renaissance experimented with the simple inclusion of letters in their works, the 19th century opens the door to hybridization.

From then on, epistolary narrative included any written media that provided a different perspective and format to the story, which, in the 20th and 21st centuries, allowed authors to reimagine the epistolary novel and include newer technology. Stephen King’s Carrie, for example, sought to mimic a documentary in its narrative, mixing in letters, reports, and testimonies to heighten and legitimize the story’s horror. Matt Beaumont’s e, on the other hand, was composed entirely of office emails, while Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff’s Illuminae was told through transcripts and dossiers.

In The Correspondent, Evans mixes both letters and emails to juxtapose two eras of communication and signal the end of “one of the original forms of civility in the world” (54). Though Sybil makes a concerted effort to communicate through letters, the author suggests that, much like Sybil’s life, the letter form is drawing to its end in the face of new technology. But where previous authors used the epistolary novel to showcase intimacy, Evans challenges the convention by demonstrating how, by removing in-person interaction, written communication can be an exercise in self-isolation.