[Hotel Lincolnshire, Charles St., Boston, Mass.]

This week has been nothing but tumult, and I am finally sitting down to write a letter by the Bremen which should be the last to catch you before Christmas; having been rushing off my Christmas presents to my family and cards to others – noNoyes, Penelope Barker;d9 doubtThorps, the;d3Thorp, Margaret (née Farrand)Thorps, theThorp, WillardThorps, the forgettingMcPherrin, Jeanette;e4 a good many, but remembering Penelope, the Thorps and Jean McPherrin, and making one shopping plunge a day. EverythingSwan, Ethel;a7 is settled except Miss Swan. I have also had an accidental concentration of evening engagements; but I console myself by considering that it is a good thing to get these off at a period during which it is impossible to concentrate upon work anyway, and so look forward to a clear stretch after Christmas. ThereO'Neill, EugeneMourning Becomes Electra;a6 were two theatres in succession: ‘Mourning Becomes Electra’ on Saturday (very tiring, as it took four hours and twenty minutes) and Louis McNeice’s [sic] play done as a Sunday evening affair by the Group Theatre. IBrowne, Elliott Martin1939 production of The Family Reunion;c1suggests TSE see Mourning Becomes Electra;a4 told you why Browne wanted me to see the O’Neill play. I admired it very much – it has nothing to do with literature, but it is, I think, a magnificent piece of engineering; and held one’s attention for the whole time without flagging. It has, of course, nothing to do either, with Greek tragedy. It has a very simple Greek shell, which is stuffed with Freudian psychology; but a page of outline of the plot of the Oresteia would provide all that is ‘Greek’ about the play: there is none of the Greek sense of the nature of crime and punishment. I think that the play appears better for being set in 1865 (it is by no means, however, tiresomely ‘period’) because the extreme and even artificial simplification of character necessary for the treatment, is more plausible in people two generations back, than it would be in contemporary figures. That saves them from appearing as dreary monomaniacs of a very low level of consciousness. There is no philosophy and no purgation. AndChekhov, Antonhis distinguishing excellence;a2 whenIbsen, Henrikcompared to Chekhov;a1 I say ‘no philosophy’ I don’t mean that I want a play to have a simple thesis which could be formulated; I mean something which perhaps cannot be put into any other words than those of the play itself, but is there – one likes, in a tragedy, to have a feeling that there is behind it a ripe and serene wisdom, or at least the struggle towards it; and even a kind of tenderness towards the characters on the part of the dramatist. You do get that in Chechov [sic], I think, more than in Ibsen or any other modern dramatist. O’Neill in this play has no apparent pity or humanity, and his characters seem perfectly flat: by no stretch of the imagination can they be conceived as having been capable of any other life. That is to lose one valuable element of tragedy. In some plays the tragic aspect is enhanced by one’s thinking of what the person or persons might have been in different circumstances. Tragedy should be, I think, partly due to character and partly to circumstances.

InO'Neill, EugeneAll God's Chillun;a5 this way, ‘All God’s Chillun Got Wings’ seems to me more truly tragic than ‘Mourning Becomes Electra’. TheLehmann, Beatrixas O'Neill's Electra;a1 play was, I must say, superbly acted all round – Beatrixanti-Semitism;c2 Lehmann as Electra was very fine, and not too obviously Jewish – by an English company too.

AnywayFamily Reunion, Theits Greek inheritance;c5, itFamily Reunion, TheTSE on writing;b4 is a relief to find that in so far as my play is ‘Greek’ it starts from the opposite end, or from the inside rather than the outside; and indeed, but for my poor Furies nobody would think of it as having anything Greek about it. Still, there are a few superficial resemblances; and I expect that Martin is right in thinking it would do better in the autumn than in the spring.

So far, I have done one more scene – there is one more long scene to do, and then the tying up of the ends.1

ThereGroup Theatresurpass themselves;b3 isMacNeice, LouisOut of the Picture;b3 not much to say about McNeice’s play except that it was better produced than I thought the Group Theatre could do. It appeared more scrappy even than in reading; and indeed was hardly more than an amusing revue; with a man who did an admirable imitation of a wireless set trying to get all stations, and a man who appeared most ingeniously as a parrot. When the play became serious it became ineffective, especially in ending during an air raid during which London is supposed to be wiped out. It is not that London is any less likely to be destroyed than it was several years ago; only that the dramatic value has disappeared because the idea is already in everybody’s mind.

ISecond Sino-Japanese War;a1 have no political information to retail. China has quite replaced Spain as the centre of anxiety. OneStalin, Josephand Second Sino-Japanese War;a1 is inclined to blame Stalin for the trouble going so far; for if the Russian Army had not lost so much prestige through its recent purges, the Japanese might not have come to the conclusion that Russia was impotent to interfere; and short of being menacing [sc. menaced] by both Russia and the United States, nothing could seriously oppose Japan but a united Europe, and that is out of the question.

TomorrowHale, Emilystays at Hotel Lincolnshire with the Perkinses;j9 you will be in Boston, at the Lincolnshire with the Perkins’s. I got as far as Euston, and wished that I might be spending Christmas with you, though were I there I should be having to devote most of my time to my own relatives, I suppose.

ShouldWaste Land, Thedramatised for broadcast;b2 you know anyone with a ‘short wave’ set, there is to be an experimental production of the Waste Land at 10.15 p.m. Greenwich time on January 11th2 andBritish Broadcasting Corporation (BBC)Christmas Day 'Cats' broadcast;b2 aTandy, Geoffreyand the original 'Cats' broadcast;c1 short recital of Cats (I am not so keen about this) by Tandy at 2.45 p.m. on Christmas Day.

I will continue to write to the Lincolnshire unless I hear to the contrary; but I do hope that you will get away for at least one visit somewhere. Have you plenty of warm wraps? I rather suspect that you have no intention of buying any furs until you return to England!

I hope you will think of me at the Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve – it will be seven o’clock with you – andChurch of St. John the Evangelist, Bowdoin Streeton Christmas Eve, 1932;a8 wonder whether you will get in to see Mass at St. John’s in Bowdoin Street, where I went in 1932.

IUnderhill, Revd Francis, Bishop of Bath and Wellsconfession with;a4 see the ‘Bishop of Bath & Wells’ on Tuesday; andJanes, W. L.his Christmas dinners with TSE;a3 on Christmas Day dine as usual at 1.30 with Janes, andHayward, JohnChristmas Day with;h8 may have cold supper with John. TheTandys, theTSE's Hampton weekends with;a1 Sunday night I have to spend with the Tandys, andFabers, theSchool for Scandal with;e1 on Monday evening to the theatre with the whole Faber family.