My brother loved this text and offered it to me in the form of a book.<p>Reading it, I was disapointed. It paints the support from Rike, an experienced and depressed poet, to a young and depressed one.<p>While I can perceive the moral aid it can bring, I didn't benefit from it. It's full of never desmontrated general advices with no given first step to be applied, and often, not even practical applications.<p>He is a poet after all, and those lines are not meant to be a self help book.<p>So sure, they are well written, the author can relate to the human condition, and the particular suffering of the receiver. But no matter how you present it, hearing "follow your passion", "don't listen to critics" and "that's life" once more is not adding anything to my current state of understanding of the world.<p>One could argue that it's more of an aesthetic exercice, and if you look at it that way, it's a success. The prose is touching and clear.<p>You could also say that the content will speak more to people struggling with the process of art, or just being true to yourself. However, the author offers descriptions, weak analysis, and no solutions. He admits himself that he is still stuck at the same level.<p>If one craves empathy, or to ear that somebody shared the same hardship, I imagine it can be therapeuthic.<p>But I learned little from those letters, didn't enjoy it, and didn't benefit their from support.<p>Maybe you will. It's a short book, so it's not a big time sink.<p>If you read the first paragraphs and don't feel like carring on, you don't need to go further. It doesn't transform into something different on the way.