[No surviving envelope]
Thank you very much for the message which reached me on Friday night. The Perkins’s were so anxious to deliver it, and so sweet about it, that I was a little reassured about the impression I may have made on them the other evening – and your aunt pressed me to come to dinner again soon – which I shall do, you may be sure. In a way, it pleased me more that you should have sent the message in this way than that you should have troubled to write to me – and it means a great deal for me to be able to say that. I mean, for one thing that it seems to help to create a bond between me and them, which I like; and also I can feel more sure that when you do write to me, it is not a bothersome burden and a ‘duty’. ItHale, Emilycorrespondence with TSE;w3flatters TSE most when EH writes undutifully;e4 would flatter me more to think that when you wrote to me it might be some relief and self-expression for you, rather than to think that you wrote just because you knew I depended upon it and lived upon it – as I do: I had rather feel that you wrote – a little – for your own sake than for mine. Thus one is flattered by ‘selfishness’, and unflattered by unselfishness. Of course, after what you told me about your health, in your last (for you, long, and very satisfactory letter, I am concerned always about your overworking – and considering what you are, I suppose I always shall be. (Emily should not work but merely exist). I wish that you had the tough constitution of the Eliots. IAmericaCalifornia;d3TSE finds soulless;a6 wish I could extend a commanding finger over Claremont, and over all the soullessness of California, and arrange matters as (unselfishly) I would! I wish you might be aware that you are much more important than any of the things you have to do – but perhaps you are aware of that in a way, and now I think of it that would make life still more difficult for you.
ICharles Eliot Norton Lectures (afterwards The Use of Poetry and the Use of Criticism)'Arnold and the Academic Mind' (afterwards 'Matthew Arnold');c2completed the morning of lecture;a3 have been a poor correspondent this week myself; especially rushed, and I did not finish my lecture for Friday night until the morning, which was exhausting. Of course will [sc. with] all this new extra lecturing three times a week, I am doing far more than I ought; but it will be over in two months.1 I shall have gained experience of various kinds of teaching and speaking, andOxford UniversityTSE dreams of professorship at;a4 shallUniversity of CambridgeTSE dreams of professorship at;a3 be at least qualified for a teaching job at Oxford or Cambridge if one ever turns up. Not that I want to end my days as a teacher; but it would take me away from London, and it would be a less precarious livelihood. SaturdaySpencer, Theodore;b4 I spent in luxurious idleness; that is to say, I took a walk in the morning, the first for months, with Spencer; inClements, thetake TSE to hockey match;a3 the afternoon I went to see the Freshman hockey match with the two elder generations of Clements, as young Jack (my so-called godson) was playing. JackHarvard Universityhockey match;a9 looked very handsome, and assisted in getting a goal, and the Harvard team won, and he will get his colours, so all went well. OfJames, Henrysubject of TSE's lectures;a7 course, I had to lecture first thing in the morning – on Henry James – not very well – I think I could do it better. I thought of the set of James on your shelves. IJames, HenryThe Aspern Papers;b3praised;a1 shall try to talk about The Aspern Papers next time; that is a good story. Is the reason why you have a set of James, by the way, because you like him, or any other? AfterGraham, Gerald S.;a3 the match went to tea with young Gerald Graham to give my opinion on a thesis on Imperialism in which Kipling is mentioned – TomThomas, Thomas Head;a2 Thomas came in – young Gerald is nursing a puppy belonging to his wife who is in England; the puppy has chewed up most of the chewable property. ThenSpencers, the;a6Spencer, Anna Morris (née Murray)
IHale, Emilyphotographs of;w7which TSE has enlarged for his dressing-table;b6 have the enlargement of your photograph, which comes out quite well, in a frame on my dressing table; but I do not know whether it is more pleasant or unpleasant to have it about. But I do not suppose I shall put it away. Incidentally, it was as well I fetched it from the framer’s on Friday, for it made me get a little money out of the bank; and heaven knows when I can get any more. I am rather worried and vexed, because I had been meaning to transfer some funds to London, and should have done so if I had not been so busy and tired.
I sometimes find that my scraps of notes, which I put down for you before going to bed, do not always read so well the next morning. At that time, in a relaxed mood, I say things which I might say differently in the morning, if at all. But I haven’t destroyed any yet! and I only hope you will be tolerant of them.
Soigne bien le toux, cher oiseau, et crois-moi4
1.Additional doings included ‘T. S. Eliot Optimistic About Future of English Language In View of New Forms – “Free Verse” Not Replacing Old Type’, Harvard Crimson, 3 Mar.:
‘I do not worry about the future of English literature,’ said T. S. Eliot in an interview given to the Crimson yesterday. ‘People of today,’ he continued, ‘seem to me to worry too much about the future, I mean that part of the future which is beyond the scope of our own activity. Such worrying is neither good reason nor good Christianity, nor is it a good exercise for literary criticism.
‘Literature should be vital in relation to its own period, not that there is no difference of value between lasting and ephemeral works. If the literature of the future is indifferent to the past, then we must be indifferent to the future […] We should not demand a Shakespeare every ten years; we should be grateful to have one Shakespeare. The present is, undoubtedly, a period of change, and the forms of literature are changing with everything else. There is a rapid replacement of literary generations, every one of which brings something new to the standards and styles which we have already.
‘I do not expect to see either a return to classicism or a departure into symbolism. In fact, I should be very sorry to see an “ism” become the style. Symbolism is very indefinite and is useful only to denote a group of French writers. Classicism cannot be returned to, for one does not return to classics or to anything else. It is for posterity to discovered that we are “classical”.
‘Such terms as classicism, romanticism, symbolism, and the like should be discouraged. They are useful only for classifications of the past and have no utility in the present except to declare what one is not. It would be ridiculous for a man to set out, now, to become a classicist or romanticist. All [one] can do is to try to think clearly to know one’s feelings, and to use the right words in the right order.
‘It cannot be said that “free verse” is replacing conventional verse or that prose is undergoing radical changes. All verse must have some freedom and some discipline, and what is now called “freedom” in verse is not positive but negative and so is unable to replace anything. We shall have new freedom, I hope we shall not have. Prose, too, seems, to some, to be on the point of great change. JoyceJoyce, Jameshis place in history;b4n is pointed out as a writer who is opening new fields of expression. On the other hand, I feel that, in regard to Joyce, we can be sure of nothing except the fact that he is the greatest writer of the age. Now he seems the beginner of a revolution. Seen in the light of history he may appear as the final product of one age rather than the initiator of another. We cannot predict, but we can always quote Byron:
“I say the future is a serious matter. And so, for God’s sake, heck and save water.”’
2.ChristinaSedgwick, Christina Davenport Davenport Sedgwick (1897–1951) married in 1922 the novelist John Philip Marquand (1893–1960) – who had worked as a journalist for the Boston Evening Transcript and was to win the Pulitzer Prize for The Late George Apley (1938) and enjoyed continuing success with the series of ‘Mr Moto’ spy novels, 1935–57. They were to divorce in 1935.
3.See further 7 Mar. 1933, below.
4.‘Treat the cough well, little bird, and believe me’.
5.GeraldGraham, Gerald S. S. Graham (1903–88), a graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge, was Instructor in History at Harvard, 1930–6, where he was befriended by TSE. After a period as Assistant Professor of History at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, he was a Guggenheim Fellow, 1940–1; and during WW2 he served in the Canadian Army. Rhodes Professor of Imperial History at King’s College London, 1949–70; Life-Fellow and Vice-President of the Royal Commonwealth Society; general editor of the Oxford West African History series. An authority on naval power and the British Empire, his works include Sea Power and British North America, 1783–1820: A Study in British Colonial Policy (1941) and The Politics of Naval Supremacy (1967). See further Perspectives of Empire: Essays presented to Gerald S. Graham, ed. J. E. Flint and Glyndwyr Williams (1973). TSE told Mary Trevelyan, 15 June 1949, he was ‘giving dinner to Professor Graham, the very meritorious Professor of Canadian History at London University whom I knew when he was tutor at Eliot House’.
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).
5.ElizabethNorton, Elizabeth ('Lily') Gaskell Gaskell Norton (1866–1958), second child of Prof. Charles Eliot Norton (1827–1908); correspondent of Henry James, James Russell Lowell and Edith Wharton. Resident at 19 Chestnut Street, Boston, Mass.
2.ChristinaSedgwick, Christina Davenport Davenport Sedgwick (1897–1951) married in 1922 the novelist John Philip Marquand (1893–1960) – who had worked as a journalist for the Boston Evening Transcript and was to win the Pulitzer Prize for The Late George Apley (1938) and enjoyed continuing success with the series of ‘Mr Moto’ spy novels, 1935–57. They were to divorce in 1935.
2.TheodoreSpencer, Theodore Spencer (1902–48), writer, poet and critic, taught at Harvard, 1927–49: see Biographical Register.