[No surviving envelope]
I shall have to write briefly again this week: tomorrow night I must talk to the Modern Language Conference; lectureHarvard UniversityEnglish 26 (Modern English Literature);a7;a7 Tuesday morning, and I am behind with – the most important of all – my Norton lecture for Friday night. I have had three busy, but not unpleasant days of tour. ThursdayCournos, Johndescribed for EH;a1 went to New Haven, andCournos, Johnputs TSE up;a2 staid there with John Cournos1 – a Russian Jew by birth, not vulgarised and Americanised, but a good ghetto type – married to an incongruously Connecticut wife, formerly a Mrs. Satterthwaite – heHulme, Thomas Ernest ('T. E.');a2 was on the edge of the old T. E. Hulme group in London before my time. ToPhelps, William Lyon;a1 lunch with William Lyon Phelps, thePerry, Blissdoomed to amuse;a3 Bliss Perry of Yale,2 who talked amusingly – rather amusingly, it is the best thing he does – andTinker, Chauncey Brewster;a2 Chauncey Brewster Tinker, andPottle, Frederick A.;a1 one Pottle who is editing the Talbot de Malahide Boswell papers,3 then lookedYale Universitymore like Oxford than Harvard;a3 round the new buildings with Cournos – very fair – notHarvard Universitycompared architecturally to Yale;a8 so hideous as I had been led to expect – much more Oxonian than Harvard is – butAmericaits horrors;c2New England Gothic;b1 IAmericaNew England;f9architecturally;a5 don’t like Gothic in New England – all the same Harvard is too ornate and luxurious too; went to the Art Museum to revisit my special Pollaiuolo and Piero di Cosimo paintings;4 metEliots, the Henryattend TSE's Yale lecture;a1 Henry and Theresa and her brother there, who had come to hear my lecture. Lecture'English Poets as Letter Writers'where it meets inverted reception;a2 went off well I think – they roared at some of the serious parts, and took solemnly some of the flippant parts, as I meant them to, but I think they liked it; I'English Poets as Letter Writers'copy promised to EH;a3 think I may send you a copy of my English Poets as Letter Writers to read – if you will read it, which I doubt – for if you don’t see my private joke in talking about how a poet should write letters, no one will.5 Then back to the Cournos home, dined privately, and three undergraduates came in for the evening. InLadd, William Palmer;a1 the morning Henry called for me, and took me to the Ladds – Dr. Ladd is head of a divinity school6 – Henry & Theresa were staying with them – andde la Mare, Walter;a2 they are friends of Walter de la Mare, who had asked me to try to see them – for lunch: nice people. ThenGarrett, Hurst;a1 Henry & Theresa & HurstAmericaNorthampton, Massachusetts;g3;a1 Garrett (her brother) motored me to Northampton, and I enjoyed that: howAmericaConnecticut;e2its countryside;a1 beautiful the Connecticut country and villages are! WeAmericaFarmington, Connecticut;e5which TSE passes by;a2 passed through Farmington, & IHale, EmilyTSE passes old school of;c3 had a thrill in seeing the school where I think you once were (did you like being there? Miss Porter’s) (by the way one of the New Haven Colleges has an inscription to Nathan Hale ‘Scholar, Athlete, Patriot’).7 At Smith they left me. WasNeilson, William Allanas TSE's host at Smith;a1 givenSmith Collegewhich proves luxurious;a2 a luxurious guest suite – at 6:30 President Neilson8 called for me – dinner at his house, with a few other people. The[nLear, Edwardagain in Smith;a4] the Lear lecture – went off pretty well – large full house – I dodged out into the green room afterwards and met no students at all. (Green room is the word: I think I have already remarked that the matter of a lecture, I find, matters less than one’s histrionic ability. It’s not exactly taking on a part whole, but pretending to be only a part of oneself – CournosCournos, Johnon TSE's lecture persona;a3 said that while I was lecturing at Yale I looked as he had never seen me, but he did not say what I looked like – but some things ordinarily suppressed do come out usefully). Then we (I mean a large group of the faculty and myself) went down to the railway station and Saw Off the Neilsons like a cosy family party – Neilson has been ill, and they were starting for a holiday in Spain – Mrs. N. enjoying herself in a thoroughly Teutonic way (she is very German) with tears, kisses and an armful of bouquets. Afterwards we adjourned to the house of Professor Lieber (who says he knew me at Harvard) and drank whisky and talked about the difference between poetry and prose, or one of those endless subjects which are so useful when you have two Germans (Prof. & Mrs. Koffka)9 a Frenchman, an Italian, an Englishman (not counting myself) and some Americans to offer points of view which never meet. Next day had breakfast in bed luxuriously andPatch, Howard Rollin;a1 lunched with Lieber and some pleasant people named Prof. & Mrs Patch10 (who asked to be remembered affectionately to someone but I can’t remember whom); thenMount Holyoke Collegejourney through snow to;a2 was called for by a motor from Mt. Holyoke, containingGriffith, Helen;a1 Miss Griffith (Professor of English)11 and two undergraduates – oneMount Holyoke CollegeTSE on visiting;a3 was a Miss Sever – the only one whose name I remember, and that is because she assumed a more proprietary air towards me at once than any one else ever has – tall, thin, plain, solemn as an owl with octagonal spectacles). A snow storm was now in progress; andWhittier, John GreenleafSnow-Bound;a1 as we approached the bleak isolated mountain on which Mt. Holyoke College is situated I wondered in some alarm whether I was to be Snow Bound (see Whittier I think)12 in a Young Females’ Seminary for several days. Mysmokingdespite Mt Holyoke rules;a3 alarm was increased when I was installed in the Guest Room and saw a notice on the mirror –
GUESTS ARE ASKED
NOT TO SMOKE
IN THE DORMITORIES
so I only smoked in the bathroom with the window open. I had tea (with pretzels) in my room, rested, dressed, and at 6:20 was called for by Miss Sever, who was in Full evening dress (with octagonal spectacles) and took my arm solemnly and escorted me to a reception room; whereMount Holyoke CollegeBlackstick Society addressed;a4 presently arrived Miss Griffith and the members of the Blackstick Society, the Senior Literary Society. I don’t remember a single name; oneWilberforce, Pamela Margaret (TSE's secretary)handsome girl reminds TSE of;a7 was distinctly handsome, like Pamela Wilberforce rather; and they were all in their best bib and tucker. Then we went to a private dining room, and I did my best, but rather poorly. Afterwards to a large Common Room, where came other undergraduates, and a few faculty; and goaded by Miss Griffith, I talked (with questions) about Standards of Criticism (extemporaneously) and after an hour or so read them poetry. Then the party more or less broke up; but some remained (mostly Blackstick Society) and sat on the floor very prettily and asked questions. When that was over I found myself to my horror left alone with the solemn Miss Sever, who settled down and got solemner and solemner, and she wants to write poetry; I had the uneasy feeling that she was going to treat me as a father confessor, so I managed to get away a little after eleven. Breakfast was sent me in the next morning; and at a quarter to ten Miss Sever (now dressed for winter sports – she had snowshoed over from her dormitory) came to tell me that a car was ready to take me to Springfield. However, she didn’t come too; but she threatens to come to one of my Wednesday afternoons; I said good bye to her at the door.13 Nothing more except that the driver (Mr. Snow, described as a contrivin’ man) took me to a wrong church; but of course it was wrong of me to trust a nice little Quaker schoolmarm like Miss Griffith to pick a church for me, andChristianityliturgy;b9aversion to Low Church Mattins;a8 I dare say it is well that now and then I should be reminded how horribly stuffy a Low Church Mattins can be, andEliot, Revd Frederick May (TSE's first cousin)qua preacher;a2 the preacher ranted just like Frederick; but this Sunday I Failed to hear Mass. Perhaps my own Fault. Just outside the Church was the statue of my ancestor Deacon Chapin, which I examined – but as he was covered with Snow his Features were rather softened – and his Hat was altered by snow so that he looked more like a Field Marshal than a Deacon; and then I came back to Cambridge. And I am thankful that I am now going away again this week – because I feel somehow obliged to Report to you where I have been and what I have done – and shall be able to write about other things – for example this alarming Philosophic Reading which you threaten to do. Dont be too impressed by poor little Hartly Alexander.
Et il faut que nous nous ecrivions de temps en temps en francais. Quoique je risque de m’epanouir trop et de t’offusquer; mais tu peux ignorer mon babil et mes enfantillages. A toi a jamais14
1.JohnCournos, John Cournos (1881–1966) – Johann Gregorievich Korshune – naturalised American writer of Russian birth (his Jewish parents fled Russia when he was 10), worked as a journalist on the Philadelphia Record and was first noted in Britain as an Imagist poet; he became better known as novelist, essayist and translator. After living in England in the 1910s and 1920s, he emigrated to the USA. An unhappy love affair in 1922–3 with Dorothy L. Sayers was fictionalised by her in Strong Poison (1930), and by him in The Devil is an English Gentleman (1932). His other publications include London Under the Bolsheviks (1919), In Exile (1923), Miranda Masters (a roman à clef about the imbroglio between himself, the poet HD and Richard Aldington, 1926), and Autobiography (1935). See too Alfred Satterthwaite, ‘John Cournos and “H.D.”’, Twentieth Century Literature 22: 4 (Dec. 1976), 394–410.
2.WilliamPhelps, William Lyon Lyon Phelps (1865–1943) taught at Yale for 41 years, becoming Lampson Professor of English Literature in 1901. A compelling, popular lecturer, he was the first to teach a course on the modern novel – which proved controversial at the start. Works include Essays on the Modern Novel (1910) and The Advance of the English Novel (1916). Phelps noted, in Autobiography with Letters (New York, 1939), of hisPhelps, William Lyonon lunch with TSE;a2n lunch with TSE on 23 Feb.: ‘We talked a good deal about Paul Elmer More, whom we both admired. Mr Eliot gives one the same impression in conversation that one receives in reading him – intense sincerity.’
3.FrederickPottle, Frederick A. A. Pottle (1897–1987), great scholar, taught at Yale University, 1925–66, becoming a full professor in 1930. He devoted the best part of his career to the editing of James Boswell’s journals and letters (Yale was to purchase 13,000 pages of the papers in 1949), publishing the first thirteen volumes of a projected total of 30–35 volumes: Boswell’s London Journal appeared in 1950. Other works include James Boswell, The Earlier Years, 1740–1769 (1966). The papers had come into the possession of the Talbot family upon the marriage of the fifth Lord Malahide to Boswell’s great-granddaughter, and were concealed for several years at Malahide Castle, County Dublin.
4.‘Hercules and Deianira’, by Antonio del Pollaiuolo (ca. 1429–98); ‘Virgin and Child with Saints Vincent Ferrer and Jerome’ (ca. 1508), by Piero di Cosimo (1462–1521). Both in Yale University Art Gallery.
5.TSEYale Universityand 'English Poets as Letter Writers';a2 spoke on ‘English Poets as Letter Writers’, under the auspices of the Lamont Memorial Foundation, to an audience of 500 in Sprague Memorial Hall, Yale University, 23 Feb. 1933. See CProse 4, 846–9.
The full lecture [Gallup C341] has not survived; but Henry Eliot copied out this opening paragraph:
I am really the last person who ought to be talking to you about letter writers, even within the frame to which I have restricted myself. To begin with, I am almost illiterate, although not analphabetic. I am an extremely ill-educated and ignorant man. I have been trying for some years, indeed, ever since I provided one of my own poems with notes, to shatter the notion that I was a man of vast erudition. I have denied this at every opportunity, at first rather diffidently, finally rather querulously, and I have found that no one believes me. Sherlock Holmes, you will remember, when he remarked that his brother Mycroft’s powers of observation were superior to his own, denied with what was for him unusual warmth, that his judgment was in any way biassed by modesty. So do I. I am genuinely sorry for my illiteracy; I have a great respect for educated men. I have certainly made use of the few scraps of learning that I possess, I see no reason why I should not use any quotation if it is apposite; but by quoting an author I do not delude myself into believing that I am perfectly acquainted with his works. Nor, until I woke up and found myself burdened with the weight of learning which I disclaimed, did I suppose that any one else would believe it either. I am merely a smatterer in a very few narrow fields. But I know what will happen. My words will fall of deaf ears, and everybody will go on believing in my incredible learning until I am dead. I mean, until a few days or a few weeks after I am dead; for critics are always very polite to you while you are still in the obituary state. And then one clever critic will have a new idea, and observe that in spite of this and that it must be said that Eliot was an ignorant man who had read very little. Then they will all take it up; until some other critic has the originality to remark that it is really the most significant thing about me; that it is, in fact, the clue to Eliot. Opinion will, I hope, be divided as to whether I know how ignorant I was, or whether I was justified in making use of learning which I did not possess, or whether I was a mere impostor. And in all the discussion no one will give me the credit of never having made any pretensions to learning. For the moment I have been speaking, you see, not so much to the present audience as to posterity; for I have an apprehension that the importance of my ignorance is going to be, some years hence, grossly exaggerated. And if I ever print this lecture, you will know the reason why.
The lecture was reported in Yale Daily News 56: 3 (24 Feb. 1933), 3 (Gallup C. 341):
‘No other form of communication can ever supplant the letter,’ Mr Eliot said. ‘Letters in the future will be different from those in the past because they will be typed, but no good letter can be dictated; there must be no third person. Letter-writing permits us to forget ourselves and to express the worthwhile things that come spontaneously. It can be a provocation of and a consolation for solitude. Our minds should be left to wander when writing a letter, and a good letter will focus the reader’s attention on what the letter is getting [at], rather than the letter itself.’
An ideal correspondence, according to Mr Eliot, will be with a person of the opposite sex, not one with whom the writer is in love, for love letters are monotonous. The recipient of the letter should be a mature friend, sufficiently understanding so that a good deal need not be said, but not to the point where the letters will be obscure to others. There should be sufficient sentiment to release the writer’s mind to speak freely, without fear of betrayal, for the greatest pleasure derived from letter-writing is being indiscreet. The two correspondents should have interests in common and should be able to be brutally frank.
‘AKeats, Johnhis letters;a6n poet can be judged by his letters,’ Mr Eliot said. ‘ToLawrence, David Herbert ('D. H.')as writer of letters;a4n me, theShelley, Percy Bysshehis letters;a2n letters of Keats are the finest letters in existence of English poets, for Keats could express great truths and yet be frivolous. Shelley’s letters, however, are dull.’ OtherWoolf, Virginiaher letters;a8n poets whose letters appeal to Mr Eliot are D. H. Lawrence and Virginia Woolf, whose epistles he termed ‘masterpieces of the letter-writing art.’
Henry Eliot noted:
T.S.E. quoted from this passage from a letter of D. H. Lawrence dated 1916 [to Catherine Carswell, 11 Jan. 1916]: ‘The essence of poetry with us in this age of stark and unlovely actualities is a stark directness, without a shadow of a lie, or a shadow of deflection anywhere. Everything can go but this stark, bare, rocky directness of statement, this alone make poetry, today.’ T.S.E. repeated this last sentence with approval, and continued: ‘This speaks to me of that at which I have long aimed, in writing poetry: to write poetry which should be essentially poetry, with nothing poetic about it, poetry standing naked in its bare bones, poetry so transparent that we see not the poetry, but that which we are meant to see through the poetry, poetry so transparent that in reading it we are intent on what the poem points at and not the poetry, this seems to me the thing to try for.’
And Henry took particular note (when he read over TSE’s lecture notes in June 1933) of this passage:
The desire to write a letter, to put down what you don’t want anybody else to see but the person you are writing to, but which yet you do not want to be destroyed, but perhaps hope may be preserved for complete strangers to read, is ineradicable. We want to confess ourselves in writing to a few friends, and we do not always want to feel that no one but those friends will ever read what we have written.
See too F. O. Matthiessen, The Achievement of T. S. Eliot (3rd edn, 1958), 89–90.
6.WilliamLadd, William Palmer Palmer Ladd (1870–1941), liturgical scholar; Professor of Church History, 1904–41, and Dean of Berkeley Divinity School (Episcopal seminary), New Haven, Connecticut, 1918–41 – where it was based from 1928 – and author of Prayer Book Interleaves (1943).
7.The Nathan Hale statue (sculpted by Bela Lyon Pratt and erected in 1913) stands close to Connecticut Hall, where Hale stayed. Capt. Hale was hanged by British forces in 1776, aet. 21.
8.WilliamNeilson, William Allan Allan Neilson (1869–1946), Scottish-American scholar, educator, lexicographer, author (works include studies of Shakespeare and Robert Burns; editions of Shakespeare): President of Smith College, 1917–39. See Margaret Farrand Thorp, Neilson of Smith (1956).
9.Kurt Koffka (1886–1941), Professor of Psychology, Smith College.
10.HowardPatch, Howard Rollin Rollin Patch (1889–1963), scholar of Chaucer, taught medieval literature at Smith College, 1919–57. (In a later year he would tutor Sylvia Plath.) His wife was Helen K. Patch.
11.HelenGriffith, Helen Griffith (1882–1976) taught English at Mount Holyoke College, 1912–47.
12.John Greenleaf Whittier, Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl (1866).
13.Loucks, ‘The Exile’s Return’, 25–6: ‘February 25, evening. In North Mandelle Parlor at Mount Holyoke, TSE dined with members of the honorary literary society, Blackstick, and gave an informal talk followed by a poetry reading. The critic’s task, he said, is to bring works of real merit to the attention of the public. He confessed his inability to enjoy Goethe and Milton’s Paradise Lost but said he expected to appreciate them in future. Major and minor poets differ in that with the latter, the reader must be in the proper mood; with a major poet, however, one can even be in the wrong mood. Literary greatness remains constant, though greatness can be attributed to different factors in different eras (“TSE Entertained”).’
TSE to J. McG. Bottkol, 8 June 1964: ‘I remember it was during the winter and Mount Holyoke seemed very remote from Cambridge, Mass., but I also remember that the undergraduates seemed to me a very nice lot of girls then …’
14.‘And we must write to each other from time to time in French. Although I may flourish too much and offend you; but you can ignore my babble and my childishness. Yours forever’
1.JohnCournos, John Cournos (1881–1966) – Johann Gregorievich Korshune – naturalised American writer of Russian birth (his Jewish parents fled Russia when he was 10), worked as a journalist on the Philadelphia Record and was first noted in Britain as an Imagist poet; he became better known as novelist, essayist and translator. After living in England in the 1910s and 1920s, he emigrated to the USA. An unhappy love affair in 1922–3 with Dorothy L. Sayers was fictionalised by her in Strong Poison (1930), and by him in The Devil is an English Gentleman (1932). His other publications include London Under the Bolsheviks (1919), In Exile (1923), Miranda Masters (a roman à clef about the imbroglio between himself, the poet HD and Richard Aldington, 1926), and Autobiography (1935). See too Alfred Satterthwaite, ‘John Cournos and “H.D.”’, Twentieth Century Literature 22: 4 (Dec. 1976), 394–410.
4.Walterde la Mare, Walter de la Mare (1873–1956), poet, novelist, short story writer, worked for the Statistics Department of the Anglo-American Oil Company, 1890–1908, before being freed to become a freelance writer by a £200 royal bounty negotiated by Henry Newbolt. He wrote many popular works: poetry including The Listeners (1912) and Peacock Pie (1913); novels including Henry Brocken (1904) and Memoirs of a Midget (1921); anthologies including Come Hither (1923). Appointed OM, 1953; CH, 1948. F&F brought out several of his books including Collected Rhymes and Verses (1942) and Collected Poems (1948); and TSE wrote ‘To Walter de la Mare’ for A Tribute to Walter de la Mare (1948). See further Theresa Whistler, Imagination of the Heart: The Life of Walter de la Mare (1993).
2.RevdEliot, Revd Frederick May (TSE's first cousin) Frederick May Eliot (1889–1958) – first cousin – Unitarian clergyman and author: see Biographical Register.
11.HelenGriffith, Helen Griffith (1882–1976) taught English at Mount Holyoke College, 1912–47.
6.WilliamLadd, William Palmer Palmer Ladd (1870–1941), liturgical scholar; Professor of Church History, 1904–41, and Dean of Berkeley Divinity School (Episcopal seminary), New Haven, Connecticut, 1918–41 – where it was based from 1928 – and author of Prayer Book Interleaves (1943).
8.WilliamNeilson, William Allan Allan Neilson (1869–1946), Scottish-American scholar, educator, lexicographer, author (works include studies of Shakespeare and Robert Burns; editions of Shakespeare): President of Smith College, 1917–39. See Margaret Farrand Thorp, Neilson of Smith (1956).
10.HowardPatch, Howard Rollin Rollin Patch (1889–1963), scholar of Chaucer, taught medieval literature at Smith College, 1919–57. (In a later year he would tutor Sylvia Plath.) His wife was Helen K. Patch.
7.BlissPerry, Bliss Perry (1860–1954), critic, author, editor, editor of the Atlantic Monthly, 1899–1909.
2.WilliamPhelps, William Lyon Lyon Phelps (1865–1943) taught at Yale for 41 years, becoming Lampson Professor of English Literature in 1901. A compelling, popular lecturer, he was the first to teach a course on the modern novel – which proved controversial at the start. Works include Essays on the Modern Novel (1910) and The Advance of the English Novel (1916). Phelps noted, in Autobiography with Letters (New York, 1939), of hisPhelps, William Lyonon lunch with TSE;a2n lunch with TSE on 23 Feb.: ‘We talked a good deal about Paul Elmer More, whom we both admired. Mr Eliot gives one the same impression in conversation that one receives in reading him – intense sincerity.’
3.FrederickPottle, Frederick A. A. Pottle (1897–1987), great scholar, taught at Yale University, 1925–66, becoming a full professor in 1930. He devoted the best part of his career to the editing of James Boswell’s journals and letters (Yale was to purchase 13,000 pages of the papers in 1949), publishing the first thirteen volumes of a projected total of 30–35 volumes: Boswell’s London Journal appeared in 1950. Other works include James Boswell, The Earlier Years, 1740–1769 (1966). The papers had come into the possession of the Talbot family upon the marriage of the fifth Lord Malahide to Boswell’s great-granddaughter, and were concealed for several years at Malahide Castle, County Dublin.
4.ChaunceyTinker, Chauncey Brewster Brewster Tinker (1876–1963), Sterling Professor of English Literature, Yale University. 1923–45.
7.PamelaWilberforce, Pamela Margaret (TSE's secretary) Margaret Wilberforce (1909–97), scion of the Wilberforce family (granddaughter of Samuel Wilberforce) and graduate of Somerville College, Oxford, was appointed ‘secretary-typist’ to the Chairman’s office on 1 July 1930, at a salary of £2.10.0 a week. She was required to learn typing and shorthand; she asked too for time to improve her German.
1.VirginiaWoolf, Virginia Woolf (1882–1941), novelist, essayist and critic: see Biographical Register.