ICharles Eliot Norton Lectures (afterwards The Use of Poetry and the Use of Criticism)weekend spent meditating;a1 have not very much to-day in the way of wits. I'Modern Dilemma, The';a2 spent the week end chiefly in a state of torpor, trying to think about my broadcast talks and about my Harvard lectures, but without much outcome. They have suggested that as well as the six public lectures I should take a half year course in Contemporary English Literature. I shall have to think this over pretty carefully and offer them an alternative: one difficulty is that as editor & publisher, as well as friendly relations with a variety of authors, I might find it very difficult to be quite frank in all of my opinions; andJoyce, JamesUlysses;e6modern literature undiscussable without;a1 unless one is allowed to talk freely about ‘Ulysses’ such a course would be, from my point of view, futile. Perhaps Criticism is a better subject, unless Richards has given them a bellyful of that. SundayCulpin, Johanna ('Aunt Johanna', née Staengel)described;a1 Mrs. Culpin came to lunch and won two games of chess from me. She is an old German lady, whoseCulpin, Karl Henryremembered;a1 elderMerton College, Oxfordand Karl Culpin;a1 son was with me at Merton; he was killed later in the war.2 Her husband was a Yorkshireman, a brilliant self made railway employee; Carl was very brilliant too and got a first in history. She lives in England again now, because her two children live here, being English, theCulpin, John ('Jack') Reibeldescribed;a1 second son JackCulpin, Rexi;a2, whose wife is Hungarian, and Mollie who is unmarried. (All this is mere description for further reference, if I shall at some time care to discuss their personalities). To-dayEliot, Vivien (TSE's first wife, née Haigh-Wood);b2 an unusual thing occurred: Vivienne and I went out to lunch at a German restaurant in Charlotte Street with Mrs. Culpin and Mollie. Unusual, because I can hardly remember how long ago V. last lunched or dined in public; she has steadily refused for years. SheEliot, Vivien (TSE's first wife, née Haigh-Wood)mental state;e8and dining in public;a6 said she did not enjoy it, but that is a small matter; what matters is that she did it and got through without panic or any abnormality. SheEliot, Vivien (TSE's first wife, née Haigh-Wood)her driving;b3 got rather confused in arriving back and thought that Cavendish Square was Russell Square, but that is characteristic of her driving. I suppose she is fairly well, considering; but I never know, and must largely trust other people’s judgment. She shows her abnormal side much more to me than to others (except her mother); and it is only when she behaves oddly to friends, and finally in public, that I am really alarmed. All this took rather a large bite out of my day, but I suppose it was a good thing to do.
How do you feel, I wonder, when you get up in the morning? I always feel more tired then than at any other time; I believe I could always sleep till eleven; I always could sleep after lunch; and it is only in the evening, when I must go to bed, that my brain is really active. If it were the other way about I could get much more done.
Towritingdevelopment and development in the writer;a4 add one thought to what I said about writing poetry and self-improvement: is it not true that most of the time one is not, and cannot be except perhaps at a much higher stage of development, quite self-conscious? IChristianityspiritual progress and direction;d6versus automatism;a3 mean that from day to day one merely goes through a routine, and does almost mechanically what one believes in doing: even my prayers, my state of awareness at the church offices, vary greatly, and often are nearly mechanical. Only now and then come more lucid moments of consciousness, when one can guage [sc. gauge] the extent of progress or perhaps deterioration. It is better to take this state of affairs hopefully, I think, and believe in general that for days or weeks or months when one seems to one['s] self hardly more than an automaton, some development may be going on – as indeed it may – of which one may be vouchsafed one moment of surprised awareness, before plunging under the surface again.3 And I do not believe in over self-searching, either; as the soul develops so it can stand more consciousness; but a conscientious person can easily worry his soul to illness.
A poor sort of letter I knew this would be. But on Friday I may have a letter from you to brighten me. TomorrowMaclagan, Eric;a2 I lunch with Maclagan to ask him for tips as to how to behave as Boston professor.
1.Misdated ‘1931’ by TSE.
2.Johanna (‘Jan’) Culpin was mother of Karl Culpin, whom became TSE’s closest friend at Oxford in 1914. Brand Blanshard, another friend, was to recall: ‘Culpin was in his final year for a BA in history. He came from a tragically mixed parentage, his father being English, his mother, with whom he lived in England, being German. His own sympathies were British through and through. He wore spectacles for a weakness of sight that kept him for a time out of active service, though he was accepted later, and, like so many other of the best young Oxonians, was killed in France.’ (T. S. Eliot: Essays from the ‘Southern Review’, ed. James Olney [1988], 31).
3.Cf. Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse : ‘When life sank down for a moment, the range of experience seemed limitless. And to everybody there was always this sense of unlimited resources, she supposed; one after another, she, Lily, Augustus Carmichael, must feel, our apparitions, the things you know us by, are simply childish. Beneath it is all dark, it is all spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by. Her horizon seemed to her limitless. There were all the places she had not seen; the Indian plains; she felt herself pushing aside the thick leather curtain of a church in Rome. This core of darkness could go anywhere, for no one saw it. They could not stop it, she thought, exulting. There was freedom, there was peace, there was, most welcome of all, a summoning together, a resting on a platform of stability. Not as oneself did one find rest ever, in her experience (she accomplished here something dexterous with her needles) but as a wedge of darkness. Losing personality, one lost the fret, the hurry, the stir; and there rose to her lips always some exclamation of triumph over life when things came together in this peace, this rest, this eternity.’
3.RexiCulpin, Rexi Culpin, wife of Jack Culpin (surviving son of TSE’s old friend Jan Culpin).
1.JamesJoyce, James Joyce (1882–1941), Irish novelist, playwright, poet; author of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916), Ulysses (1922), Finnegans Wake (1939).
3.EricMaclagan, Eric Maclagan (1879–1951), Director of the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 1924–45, had been Charles Eliot Norton Lecturer at Harvard, 1927–8. Distinguished as scholar and lecturer, and an expert on early Christian and Italian Renaissance art, his works include Catalogue of Italian Sculpture (with Margaret Longhurst, 1932) and The Bayeux Tapestry (1943), translations from poets including Rimbaud and Valéry, and editions of the works of William Blake. His offices included Vice-President of the Society of Antiquaries, 1932–6; President of the Museums Association, 1935–6. A devout Anglo-Catholic, he served too on the Cathedrals Advisory Council and the Central Council for the Care of Churches, and as a member of the Church Assembly. Knighted in 1933, he was appointed KCVO in 1945. In 1913 he married Helen Elizabeth Lascelles.