[1418 East 63d St., Seattle]
I have this morning your long and generous letter of the 10th. In spite of what you say, I shall continue, for the short time you are in Seattle – and I hope you will warn me in due time when to address you in Boston – to post by air mail; for, if letters come by air from Seattle to New York, I cannot see why they should not go by air from New York to Seattle! The Holborn Postoffice [sic] assured me; and I put the letter into a bright blue air pillar box which has clearly printed on it the days of air mails to the U.S.A. It is true that the official was not sure how far west a letter had to go before the air mail took it; but he was quite sure that it worked most of the Rockies. Anyway, my letters don’t seem to be any slower because of the extra postage; and I enjoy putting on the blue label.
I can appreciate, my dear, that your letter was painful to write; and I thank you. You have given me, again, a good deal to answer; it will take me two or three letters; and on the morning when I get a letter from you I like to soak it in and brood over it. So I think I shall only write briefly today; and again at more length on Monday.
SoHale, Emilybirthdays, presents and love-tokens;w2EH's birthday compared to TSE's;a1 you don’t know my birthday! it is September 26th (St. Cyprian’s day, oddly enough, the name day of my present church). And yours is Oct. 27th. Three years, one month and one day.
You must not make too much, my dear, of my saying I had felt ‘hurt’. But for a moment I imagined, with in mind perhaps things I have told you about my life, that I was not quite honourable, or lacking in reverence to you. That’s that. One point which I want to make at once is that there is no question of shielding V. (or incidentally but inevitably shielding myself). It is difficult to explain clearly, for the reason that I thought I had made this clear already. TheEliot, Vivien (TSE's first wife, née Haigh-Wood)marriage to;e6TSE on entering into;a1 whole clue to the matter, from my point of view, is that one half of me wanted to escape from America and the philosophy department of some university, a task for which I felt underneath unfitted, to some life in which I could write poetry. That was a childish illusion, of course. But in order to bring myself to that I had to persuade myself that I was in love with someone here who could not or would not go to America – I had to pretend to myself that I had cut all ties to home. On neither side was there anything more ignoble than selfishness, weakness and vain pity; or, to dot every i, there was nothing of the sort of an amende honorable for any misbehaviour – is that blunt enough? – I merely found myself suddenly engaged to someone with whom I could hardly be said to have had the lightest of flirtations. I believe that if the normal time had elapsed I should quickly have come to my senses. ButEliot, Vivien (TSE's first wife, née Haigh-Wood)relations with Charles Buckle;a3 where the debt of honour came in is at this point: that she then explained to me about her previous engagement (of which I told you) and that she could not stand the strain of another protracted engagement; and also I dare say that my compunction at adding another shock to the previous would have been enough to keep me to my word. On the other hand, you must not suppose that she deliberately played upon my sense of chivalry; and I know that she imagined that she was saving a poet from the wrong life and helping him to live the life he needed. I am sure that her motive was rather the vanity of feeling that she was doing this, rather than devotion to me as a person; but all of her actions can be explained by vanity, fear, immaturity, weak physique, weak nerves, drugs and disappointment.
This is only the beginning of this letter in instalments. I shall answer all faithfully. But you ask what I should have done had I met, in the middle years, another woman whom I loved? But you see, I cannot conceive of my finding anyone lovable except yourself.