[35 School St., Andover, Mass.]
[14 May] 1951
Your letter of May 9th arrived quite quickly, and before I had had time to write after my return, as I had to take two days in bed with a kind of cold, and what I understand is called ‘Madrid Throat’ (it may have started from the dust at the Fair in Jerez, orFaber, GeoffreyTSE's trip to Spain with;l3 I may have caught it from Geoffrey, who certainly picked up something there; but it was certainly not improved by the cold rainy weather in Madrid). ISpainas per TSE's 1951 trip;a2 was very sorry to learn that you had heard nothing from me, as I had sent three postcards – the first, from Gibraltar, should certainly have reached you, as I know that that one had air mail stamps on it; the others, one from Ronda (but posted in Seville) and the third from Seville, may be explained by tardiness in the Spanish posts, and the fact that most public departments are closed on holidays. I shall be interested to know that they all turn up eventually.
As a visit to Spain, it was successful; as a rest cure, not quite so much so. Partly on account of the weather, which was chilly and cloudy and sometimes rainy (but the Spaniards are very happy about it, as it has been the first season of break in a ten years’ drought, and Spain is a very dry country); partly because the altitudes of the places one wants to see very much. At Granada, it was very warm in the sun and very cold out of it; at Torremolinos, four days out of the week were perfect summer weather, and we were able to lie on a very hot beach (troubled only by small boys trying to sell lottery tickets) and dip into a very cold Mediterranean (having no tide, the water doesn’t really get warm until summer) – and if I had stayed there for a whole month, it might have been the best thing from the point of view of health. But, going to Spain for the first time, one does want to see some of the famous places. At Seville, it was sultry, but cloudy and sometimes rainy. At Ronda, which is high and surrounded by snow mountains, the weather was piercingly cold, and, as every where else except Madrid, the hot water was fitful and not very hot. Madrid itself was very like the London I returned to, cloudy and rainy, though colder and dryer in climate than London. (The Madrilenos think their climate rather like that of New York, and say that one doesn’t need so much sleep there).
In the South, most of what is worth seeing is Moorish. One tires of the monotony of the Moorish architecture in time; but the Alhambra is magnificent, and amazingly well preserved – especially when one realises how much of it is plaster work – in both forms and colours, by the dry climate. Spain is a very strange country in one respect. Spanish art, architecture and literature began very late: up to the time of the discovery of America they were still fighting the Moors and unifying the country; and the Moors occupied a good half of Spain for many hundreds of years. So there is very little Spanish art until the sixteenth century. And after the seventeenth century nothing much happened. SoItalyits architecture and painting;b1Rome
Ronda is incredibly romantic, with a deep narrow gorge down the middle of it – three bridges at different levels, Roman, Moorish and Spanish respectively – one looks over the parapet of the top (Spanish) bridge and sees crows and hawks whirling about far below. Toledo (which we visited by car from Madrid) is magnificent; standing on a hill with Moorish walls round about, and an immense and very Spanish florid Gothic cathedral.
We went of course to one bullfight – in Jerez. The corrida lasts for an hour and a half, which means six bulls – each is supposed to be despatched, if at all, in about fifteen minutes. I must say that three bulls would have been enough for me. As none of the performers (except the bulls) was killed or injured, and as all of the toreros performed in such a way as to elicit the approval of the crowd, we did not experience any nausea or disgust. To a beginner, it is not very pleasant during the short interval of the picadors, when a horse is pushed about by a bull; but although the horses sometimes looked as if they were to be gored, they were so well padded that none of them was more than turned over. I could well have dispensed with this part of the spectacle, especially as the horses have nothing to do but stand still while the picador prods the bull and the bull prods the horse, and there is no exhibition of horsemanship about it at all. Otherwise, it is on the whole a fair fight between the bull and the man; and a good torero or matador will sometimes pause to let the bull rest. The cape play is rather lovely. One fight was somewhat distressing at the end, because it was a tough bull who would not die; but for the most part, death came very quickly. In short, although I have no particular desire to see another corrida, and I do not think I could ever become an enthusiast (though there are many fine points of play, depending partly upon differences of temperament between one bull and another, which it is the torero’s business to perceive, that escape the inexperienced onlooker); yetAmericaits horrors;c2television;b7 I think it is a sport very suitable in its own country, and I believe far less demoralising and degrading for children than gangster films or television of Hopalong Cassidy.1 And I don’t think any other race is civilised enough to criticise the Spaniards unfavourably for the addiction to this sport. (And as a matter of fact, the fights do not seem to occur very frequently; and for most of the year the Spanish popolo devotes its enthusiastic attention to professional association football, which is reported in the local papers at much greater length).
Madrid is a large modern city, suggestive of modern Paris on a smaller scale, with very few special objects of interest. Apart from visits to Toledo and Escorial, I gave most of my time to the Prado, concentrating of course on the Spanish paintings. ApartEl Greco;a1 from one superb piece in a church in Toledo, I saw nothing of El Greco to enlarge my view of him;2 butVelázquez, Diego Rodríguez de Silva yin the Prado;a1 onGoya, Franciscoat the Prado;a1 the other hand, at the Prado I felt that I had never appreciated Valesquez [sic] or Goya before. The effect is staggering: especially Valesquez, who now seems to me as great a painter as has ever painted.
TheMiller, Gilbertbumps into TSE in Spain;a7 visit to Toledo led to the one social event of the visit. As we were preparing to enter the House of El Greco (who lived in Toledo) I was hailed by a cheery American voice and turned to face Mr. Gilbert Miller – withKirkpatrick, Luis Escobar;a1 Mrs. Miller, a marquesa (Spain swarms with marquesses and marchoinesses) and Senor Escobar the Director of the National Theatre of Madrid.3 The encounter with the Millers, I am glad to say, did not have to be repeated; but Senor Escobar, who had once come to see me in London, with an abortive scheme for producing Asasinato en la Cathedral, asked where we were staying, rang up the next day and invited us to dinner for the following evening. He proved a charming host. Although at such short notice, he provided a sumptuous banquet, with about a dozen other guests (mostly marqueses and marquesas of course, with a countess or two – if there are any barons in Spain they must be amongst the depressed and underprivileged whom one doesn’t meet socially). We were summoned for 10 p.m. but at 10.5 we were the first to arrive; and we sat down to table at about 11. (TheyFaló, Jacobo Fitz-James Stuart y, 17th Duke of Alba;a4 consider the Duke of Alba very eccentric because he will dine at the early hour of 9). They were very well-bred and agreeable people, and not at all provincial. Of course this late and tiring party fixed the Madrid Throat more firmly on me, but it was worth it. I have just written a thanking letter to Senor Don Luis Escobar Kirkpatrick, to give him his full name.
BackHale, Emilysummers between Chocorua and Campobello;t2 to work again on Monday, with arrears to clear up. I am glad to have some outline of your plans for this summer, and to know that you propose two full months holiday, one at Chocorua (I should like to know more about Chocorua) and one at Campobello (Grand Manan?) Of35 School Street, Andover, Massachusetts;a5 course, if you can keep your home in Andover for another year, and if you can just manage without the school appointment, I can see there is a good deal to be said for giving up the post; but what are the possibilities of a more suitable producing post in or about Boston, and could you conveniently live in Andover at the same time? It is impossible to advise, because of one’s ignorance of conditions; one can only sympathise.
MarianEliot, Marion Cushing (TSE's sister);g7 sentWolcott, Susan;a1 me cuttings of the Wolcott wedding.4 The bride and groom look terrifyingly young in the photograph; but Susan seemed to me a very sound girl (and better-bred than her half-sister) so I hope that it will prove permanent.
I have put a note in my case to remind me to send you the book for Fay White tomorrow.
1.SeeAmericaits horrors;c2television;b7St. Louis
2.El Greco, ‘The Disrobing of Christ’ (1577–9), in Toledo Cathedral.
3.LuisKirkpatrick, Luis Escobar Escobar Kirkpatrick (1908–91): distinguished actor, playwright and director. On the death of his father in 1954 he was to become 7th Marquis of las Marismas del Guadalquivir.
4.‘BecomesWolcott, Susanher wedding;a2n Bride in Church Ceremony in Milton’, Boston Post, 31 Mar. 1951, 7: ‘A Radcliffe–Harvard romance culminated in the marriage yesterday of Miss Susan Wolcott, daughter of Mr and Mrs Roger Wolcott of Milton, and Leonard E. Opdycke, son of Mr and Mrs Leonard Opdycke of West Cedar St.
‘The Rev. Vivian T. Pomeroy performed the ceremony at the First Parish Church, Milton, before an altar decorated with spring flowering shrubs and blossoms.
‘Gowned in ivory satin, en traine, panelled in lace, the bride was given in marriage by her father. A coronet of orange blossoms held her full length veil of illusion in place and she carried a bouquet of valley lilies and stephanotis …
‘After receiving their friends at the Wolcott home, the couple left by automobile for Florida. They will make their home on Linnean St., Cambridge.
‘The bride, a graduate of The Winsor School, is a junior at Radcliffe. Mr Opdycke prepared at Exeter Academy for Harvard, where he will receive his degree in June.’
See too Marjorie W. Sherman, ‘SOCIETY: Opdycke–Wolcott Wedding in Historic Church’, Boston Daily Globe, 30 Mar. 1951, 13.
1.Marian/MarionEliot, Marion Cushing (TSE's sister) Cushing Eliot (1877–1964), fourth child of Henry Ware Eliot and Charlotte Eliot: see Biographical Register.
11.GeoffreyFaber, Geoffrey Faber (1889–1961), publisher and poet: see Biographical Register.
1.JacoboFaló, Jacobo Fitz-James Stuart y, 17th Duke of Alba Fitz-James Stuart y Faló, 17th Duke of Alba (1878–1953), Spanish nobleman, diplomat and politician, held among other titles the dukedoms of Alba de Tormes and Berwick.
3.LuisKirkpatrick, Luis Escobar Escobar Kirkpatrick (1908–91): distinguished actor, playwright and director. On the death of his father in 1954 he was to become 7th Marquis of las Marismas del Guadalquivir.
5.GilbertMiller, Gilbert Miller (1884–1969); American theatrical producer. In 1950 he was to win a Tony Award for his production of The Cocktail Party. The Gilbert Miller–Ashley Dukes production of Murder in the Cathedral (with Miller taking a quarter-share in the enterprise, and Dukes three-quarters to secure artistic control), starring Robert Speaight, was to open at the Ritz Theatre, West 48th Street, New York City, on 16 Feb. 1938. It ran for 21 performances.