[22 Paradise Rd., Northampton, Mass.]
The censors do not appear to have concerned themselves yet with American correspondence: I am sure that when they do they will leave evidence in the form of a large label conspicuously pasted across the slit. IPound, Ezrahis letters from Italy censored;c7 have had only one censored letter so far, and that was from Italy, appropriately from Ezra Pound, not however one of his livelier efforts, or likely to have given much amusement to the censor. So I might put in an enclosure now and then. I have had not a very eventful week, andWoolfs, the;e1 did not go away, as the Woolfs could not have me this week end; very glad I was too, for it has rained incessantly. ICheetham, Revd Eric;e1 have lunched with the vicar and the Archdeacon of Middlesex. IEnglandLondon;h1in wartime;d4 now feel quite at ease finding my way home in the dark from Bloomsbury, from St. James’s, or from Belgrave Square: each new district that one dines out in is a bit terrifying at first, especially on a dark night with no moon. I have started my series of three injections against colds, and am having a go with the dentist – who does not report any serious trouble, so I can’t have that dental plate yet. I had thought of arriving in America in one. RichardsRichards, Ivor Armstrong ('I. A.')extends TSE 1940 American invitation;b7 and I hope that I may be invited to America to lecture in a year’s time, which would be a more suitable moment at which to appear there than now. ICocktail Party, Theplot ruminated;a4 have spent a little time reading, and even some in turning over plots for a play – which should not be a dark tragedy. The French broadcasting is better than the English. IDark, Sidney;a2 haveChristian News-Letter (CNL);a1 to have SidneyChurch Times;a9 Dark, the editor of the Church Times, to lunch tomorrow, to talk to him about the Christian News Letter.
WellChristianityChristendom;b2and TSE's war work;a5, one has to think of little things, and of big things in little terms, a good deal of the time in order to have faith in one’s own activities, in the midst of the death and suffering that is going on while one writes, and which one will only know of later. It is hard at times to believe that what one can do that may be of most use in the long run, is work of which the immediate value is not apparent: yet I do believe that so long as circumstances permit, I ought to persist in doing the sort of work I should be doing in any case, as well as trying to support, by every means in my power, the maintenance of critical intelligence and Christian thinking. How, I wonder, would you most like to think of me as occupied in these times? ItHale, Emilyas teacher;w1in time of war;c8 has, I know, been difficult for you at times to believe that your proper work in these times, was to go on teaching and giving your middle-western girls what you have to give them; but you may help them in other ways too, to see what is going on in Europe, from your experience of the beginning of it, in more human terms than they otherwise might. So I have to settle the separate claims of what is presumably my normal function to do, and what I may be called upon to do in the situation. I have been offered the 9.15 p.m. quarter hour on the wireless – the best time of the day for getting an audience – for some evening more or less at my convenience: and the odd thing is that I find great difficulty in thinking of anything to talk about! I wish that I could talk it over with you – as so many other things. IndeedHale, Emilycorrespondence with TSE;w3compared with talking;d3, after this summer, I am as yet rather spoiled for writing, because I know so much better the advantages of real intimacy of conversation. A letter, especially when it must wait so long for an answer – and it gets somewhat blurred, too, by one’s having written several other letters in between – has to be something of a monologue. One should say some thing[s] that need or deserve an answer, that belong to dialogue, and others that do not: such, for instance, as your mention of having bought a new lamp (a dollar at the ten cent store puzzles me), anddogs'Boerre' (Norwegian Elkhound);b7;c4 any item about Boerre.
I pray for you always, sometimes anxiously, sometimes more serenely.
4.RevdCheetham, Revd Eric Eric Cheetham (1892–1957): vicar of St Stephen’s Church, Gloucester Road, London, 1929–56 – ‘a fine ecclesiastical showman’, as E. W. F. Tomlin dubbed him. TSE’s landlord and friend at presbytery-houses in S. Kensington, 1934–9. See Letters 7, 34–8.
1.SidneyDark, Sidney Dark (1872–1947), editor of the Anglo-Catholic Church Times, 1924–41.
3.Ezra PoundPound, Ezra (1885–1972), American poet and critic: see Biographical Register.
4.I. A. RichardsRichards, Ivor Armstrong ('I. A.') (1893–1979), theorist of literature, education and communication studies: see Biographical Register.