[No surviving envelope]
Letter 49
I have been enjoying a long weekend without doing much work, but have a full day ahead of me tomorrow: lunchLehmann, John;a1 with John Lehmann, then toMorley, Christopher;a2 Louise Morley’s wedding (Christopher’s daughter, who is marrying a nice Scottish officer)1 andPoetry Reading for China;a2 then on to Wigmore Hall to aid China by taking part in a Poetry Reading. MyFaber and Faber (F&F)fire-watching duties at;e6 fire-watching lets me out for attending the dinner-party to follow (at a Chinese restaurant, of course); and I have no other heavy duties this week. ISt. Anne's Church House, Soho'Culture Class';a4 am trying to think out what to say in this course of discussions on Culture to take place at St. Anne’s House, of which I told you; but really it is impossible to know what can be done until we see what sort of class will assemble and test their capabilities. SoJohnson, Dr Samuelimbibed for lecture;a5 theUniversity College of North Walesbut subsequently prepares lectures on Dr Johnson;a2 rest of the time I dabble with Samuel Johnson in anticipation of the two lectures I shall have to prepare in January and February. This is still the last of the summer, but may turn any day to the first of the autumn.
YourHale, Emilylate summer in New Brunswick;p7 letter from Campobello2 arrived here after my return. It is impossible to keep up with your movements. I have never been there, but I believe it is very near to Calais, Me., and I knew that St. Andrew’s was near by. Though you are well south of this latitude, you are evidently far enough north to notice the shortening of daylight. I am delighted to know of the friendliness and affection at The Anchorage; and after that, Campobello must be rather lonely again – you don’t speak of having any friends there. WhatAmericaConcord, Massachusetts;e1;a1 friends have you at Concord? I don’t really know what Concord looks like now: I drove out, ten years ago, one evening to dine with the Mark Wentworths, and so saw nothing of it then; but I imagine it now as being an outer suburb of Boston, reached by train instead of bus. If nothing else turns up, it would be a good thing if you could take a hand in dramatic work at the School again – if there is any done in these times: but I should expect that schools and societies would be always getting up entertainments with the pretext of helping the Red Cross, or something. TheSecond World Warits effect on TSE's work;e1 sense of baffled and unused abilities is the hardest thing to bear, I know. I felt it myself for many long years, as if walking down a tunnel which had no end, but which became smaller and smaller, just room to squeeze through but not leading anywhere. But, in my case, looking back, I cannot believe I have suffered any serious loss in that respect, though such great loss in others: I don’t think now that I would have done better work, though I might have written more. So I have nothing to complain about: nevertheless, I know enough to be able to understand. AndFamily Reunion, Thecertain lines expressing TSE's frustrations;h7 I put all that into some lines of The Family Reunion.3
MyHayward, Johnpossible post-war housemate;l5 intention, as you know, is to set up housekeeping with John Hayward after the war: as soon as we can find a set of rooms which has the necessary conditions – either a ground floor, or a large lift, for him to get in and out in his chair, and a joint kitchen with separate meals – it must be so that we can have guests separately. This may not be easy to find. A practical advantage, for me, is that he has some furniture, including kitchen and eating utensils; and it may be difficult for me to equip myself for some time to come. I have nothing but one table and some bookcases. But this can not be considered until after the war: it is most undesirable that anyone so crippled as he should return to London until it is perfectly safe: and I shall be surprised if there are not one or two savage and desperate attacks before the end. Meanwhile, there are two very practical advantages here: servants who can look after me if I am ill in the winter – and I am bound to have one or two weeks of illness, at least, between November and April; and good food, far better than what I could get living alone in London. Rooms and flats are expensive, and daily service is almost any price. ThereMirrlees, Emily Lina ('Mappie', née Moncrieff)TSE's sense of responsibility to;d4 is, of course, also a feeling of responsibility towards my hostess – not merely just having been moved into two particularly nice rooms at the end of the house, but feeling that she would be very upset. SheMirrlees, Maj.-Gen. William Henry Buchanan ('Reay')homecoming animates Mappie;a6 will take my leaving for granted at the end, and she will then have her sons return from the East to look forward to – that is really what she lives for.
ISheffield, Alfred Dwight ('Shef' or 'Sheff')writes from Ada's deathbed;b6 don’tEliot, Henry Ware, Jr. (TSE's brother)as correspondent;h1 find either Henry or Sheff very satisfying correspondents, though they both write very good letters in their way. I cannot complain of them, that they are self-centred, but the channels of communication are limited. Most of one’s friends are, as you say, absorbed in their own affairs: one’s best friends are ready to devote time and trouble to any special crisis in one’s affairs, for which help is needed; but what one misses is the habitual and daily attitude of interest and appreciation of one’s situation. Am I like that too, I wonder? It would be worse in me; for anyone who has had to get so much of his life simply by entering into and sharing the lives of other people’s households should have had a severe training of the imagination! ItFaber, Geoffrey;j4 seemed to me, for instance, that Faber might have had more of interest to tell me of his call upon Henry and Theresa than he did; but although he appeared to have enjoyed his brief visit, he did not seem to have observed much to report to me. But I know from yourself that I am most often a poor correspondent: yet I hope that reserve does not always imply egotism.
Your letter tails off into pencil and I can’t decipher the very end! Where shall I hear from you next, I wonder.
I do realise that it is now possible to send cuttings. But I have not yet got enough used to it to remember to keep things as they turn up – not that there has been much. But I will make an effort.
1.TSE to Hayward, 25 Sept. 1943: ‘I have to […] go to the wedding of Christopher Morley’s daughter Louise (who is an important official in O.W.I.) to a nice little Scotch captain in kilts at St Mark’s N. Audley Street …’
2.Campobello Island lies in south-western New Brunswick, close to the border with Maine.
3.There is no passage in the symbolically freighted play The Family Reunion that is exactly glossed by TSE’s remarks; but the following extracts are germane:
HARRY
What have we been saying? I think I was saying
That it seemed as if I had been always here
And you were someone who had come from a long distance.
Whether I know what I am saying, or why I say it,
That does not matter. You bring me news
Of a door that opens at the end of a corridor,
Sunlight and singing; when I had felt sure
That every corridor only led to another,
Or to a blank wall; that I kept moving
Only so as not to stay still.
* * *
AGATHA
I only looked through the little door
When the sun was shining on the rose-garden:
And heard in the distance tiny voices
And then a black raven flew over.
And then I was only my own feet walking
Away, down a concrete corridor
In a dead air. Only feet walking
And sharp heel scraping. Over and under
Echo and noise of feet.
I was only the feet, and the eye
Seeing the feet: the unwinking eye
Fixing the movement. Over and under.
See too Alice’s vicissitudes in Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865).
3.HenryEliot, Henry Ware, Jr. (TSE's brother) Ware Eliot (1879–1947), TSE’s older brother: see Biographical Register.
11.GeoffreyFaber, Geoffrey Faber (1889–1961), publisher and poet: see Biographical Register.
11.JohnHayward, John Davy Hayward (1905–65), editor and critic: see Biographical Register.
3.HopeMirrlees, Emily Lina ('Mappie', née Moncrieff) Mirrlees’s mother was Emily Lina Mirrlees, née Moncrieff (1862–1948) – known as ‘Mappie’ or ‘Mappy’ – see Biographical Register.
1.MajMirrlees, Maj.-Gen. William Henry Buchanan ('Reay').-Gen. William Henry Buchanan ‘Reay’ Mirrlees, DSO, CB, MC (1892–1964), served in the Royal Artillery. He was the only son of William Julius and Emily Lina Mirrlees, brother of Hope Mirrlees.
5.ChristopherMorley, Christopher Morley (1890–1957), noted journalist, novelist, essayist, poet. Educated at Haverford College, Pennsylvania, and as a Rhodes Scholar at New College, Oxford, he made his name as a journalist with the New York Evening Post, and he was co-founder of and contributor to the Saturday Review of Literature. A passionate Sherlock Holmesian, he was to be co-founder in 1934 of ‘The Baker Street Irregulars’. Works include Kitty Foyle (novel, 1939).
8.AlfredSheffield, Alfred Dwight ('Shef' or 'Sheff') Dwight Sheffield (1871–1961) – ‘Shef’ or ‘Sheff’ – husband of TSE’s eldest sister, taught English at University School, Cleveland, Ohio, and was an English instructor, later Professor, of Group Work at Wellesley College. His publications include Lectures on the Harvard Classics: Confucianism (1909) and Grammar and Thinking: a study of the working conceptions in syntax (1912).