I have been reading the Chas. Olson book, and am rather surprised at you and Pearl for liking it so much.79 It has a certain power, I will admit, but on the whole it seems to me a somewhat fraudulent performance: a pretty sweeping statement, I know, and one perhaps not easy to defend—however, tell Pearl that, after I’ve had a few poker lessons, I’ll battle it out with her—and give her a huge kiss, because she is a precious girl and I am terribly, terribly fond of her.
Did you see the Guggenheim list?! Ralph Bates!80 Don’t you know Marguerite [Young] is tearing down the joint? I think we all ought to chip in and buy her a stick of dynamite to shove up Mr. Moe’s________(never say I’m not a gentleman). Some gossip for you, dear: Iris Barry is having an affair with a child who hasn’t even begun to shave yet.81
Newton is fine, but awfully busy, of course: somebody in France wants to translate The New American Writers piece, and an Italian magazine wants to publish it, too. As for me, I am working away, and getting a little sunshine, too. The weather is beautiful.
I love our sister B.—but for God’s sake don’t tell her! The slightest little compliment, and that girl is insufferable.
Your ever-loving monster-child
T
[Collection Aswell Family]
TO ROBERT LINSCOTT
[Probably May 1947]
Dear Bob,
Thanks for the letter, thanks ever so much, and I am glad you like the story: I am aware, of course, that there are faults in it, but as far as I am concerned I accomplished at least eighty percent of what I set out to do, and that is the most I can ask of so elusive a thing.82 It is not, for one thing, as concentrated as I should like it to have been, but [the] more or less poetic nature of the material defied that kind of diamond focus: I had to use a soft lens, a suggestive approach. I do hope it will have some success; that is, I hope that a few reader’s [sic] will know and feel a little of what I put into it, for I want never to perpetrate a fraud, and by fraud I mean anything that wastes a reader’s time. The reason it was turned down by Mlle. (for which I thank God!) is very complex, and very personal: I had a terrible argument with George Davis, in which he said, among other things, that I was a “prima donna” and etc.: all this merely because I would not consent to having the story cut, and refused to revise the more, as Mrs. Blackwell called them, “shocking parts.”83 Also, he had learned in some curious way that Marylou had read the story, and he thought this “shocking,” too. The whole thing was reduced to the most disgusting and amateurish level, the sort of thing I should never allow myself to be mixed up in. I was really very afraid, as you know, that they would print it, which would’ve been a tragedy from my point of view, so all in all I am satisfied with the results. I hope Marylou does not have any trouble, I mean I hope her business dept. lets her buy it. I haven’t heard from her as yet. And I also hope Rita [Smith] has learned a lesson, for all of this is her fault: her intentions were of course the very best, and I love her for her loyalty, but she does seem to have strange Ideas sometimes of what loyalty constitutes.84 I think she realizes now that she made a mistake. Also I wish you had read the story with a clearer mind.
I am working on the book and it is really my love and today I wrote two pages and oh Bob I do want it to be a beautiful book because it seems important to me that people try to write beautifully, now more than ever because the world is so crazy and only art is sane and it has been proven time after time that after the ruins of a civilization are cleared away all that remains are the poems, the paintings, the sculpture, the books.85
LIFE was here all last week, and they took a great many pictures of me, and I hope some [of] them turn out well, though I don’t suppose they will use more than one, if that. Dear Bob, I do not suppose you will feel much like writing me a letter there on your vacation, but if you do, please do. I miss you.
always
t
[Collection Washington University Libraries]
TO JOHN MALCOLM BRINNIN
[1060 Park Avenue]
[New York]
[May 1947]
Malcolm, sweetmeat,
What a lot of weight I’ll bet you’ve lost; it took me months to get back the poundage discarded in N.O. [New Orleans] last summer; but really, isn’t it fascinating? And God knows you are seeing America First … though it may turn out to be the last thing you ever see. And speaking of seeing things have you gazed upon my shocking photo in the current Life?86 Believe me, never again! Quel travesty.
Did you ever get the other letter I sent you?
Well, as you probably know, Howard [Doughty] is now stationed in Milton, Mass. He came by to see N. and I (me?) in Northampton on his way there; I thought he was looking just finely, and seemed to be in cheerful spirit. Newton took me to Boston last week; it was my first trip there, and I had a wonderful time: we did such diverse things as having dinner with Matthiesen [F. O. Matthiessen] and go to the Old Howard: I’m an old burlesque fan, you know.87 F. O. I did not especially like, but it would take a Proustian analysis to explain my reason, so I will save it for later. Did like Harry Levin, though.88 Marguerite [Young] is at Yaddo now, and she writes that the place is filling up with an interesting, amusing crowd: Robert Lowell, Irwin Edman, [Malcolm] Cowley, Austin Warren, J. F. Powers. When are you going? Or are you? I’m leaving for Sconset89 Tuesday the tenth, but, inasmuch as I’m not sure of the address, why don’t you write me here and it will be forwarded; and Malcolm, do please come for a visit.
Marylou and B. [Barbara Lawrence] are very well; we speak of you often. There are no new people in my life, except [Christopher] Isherwood, whom I see now and like very much, though he baffles me somewhat. Now that classes are over, Newton is reviving; in fact, he is looking the best I’ve ever seen him. You ought to drop him at least a card; he is so very fond of you.
Tell Henri I have tried endless times to call Ely, but without marked success; she has been out of town over the weekend, but is suppose [sic] to be back this afternoon, so I will try then. Give him my best. Are they going to Yaddo, too?
I am really nearing the end of my book; the strain is terrific, and I’m scared to death it is a failure. Jesus, after all this work, and all this time. It does seem to me, though, that I have been put in an unfair position, and I do not take to this brand of pressure. Oh well.
I’ve missed you awfully, Malcolm. Write me.
much love
T
[Collection University of Delaware Library]
TO ROBERT LINSCOTT
[Nantucket Island, Mass.]
[Late July 1947]
Dear Bob—
Oh thank you for the letter! Here in island isolation, arrival of mail is the sole event.
Of course, I feel like less than 2 cents for not having sent the ms. before now.90 But these last few pages! Every word takes blood, I don’t know why this should be, especially since I know exactly what I’m doing. Except for the last five or six pages I have had the book finished for the last 2 weeks. Of course I am making little revisions here and there, of the whole book, I mean.
Anyway, I am pretty sure I will finish it over the weekend. Then I am sending it to Marian and she will get it to you immediately.91 Maybe you will be back in N.Y.
Isherwood was here for a week, and we had an extremely pleasant time.92 I know you would like him. He may be going to visit Minna Curtis [Mina Curtiss] some time in August, so you will probably see him then.93 Which reminds me, I haven’t sent back that book I borrowed from Elaine Shaplen; it is so hard to mail anything from here, but tell her not to worry.
John Lane, the English publisher, offered me a 150 pound advance on my book. Should I take it? Probably it would be better to wait, because I’ve had seven offers, especially a very good one from Cyril Conolly [Connolly], who is going to publish books now.
I miss you Bob. Have faith! Love
T
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO LEO LERMAN ET AL.
Sunset Towers
8358 Sunset Blvd
Hollywood, Calif.
December 8, 1947
Dearest Cousinage94
My darlings, I am mad with horror: when I get back, if, indeed, I ever do, then I am taking all of you by your dear little paws and make you swear to me you will never, never set foot in Los Angeles County. Quel hole! I am living in a very posh establishment, the Sunset Towers, which, or so the local gentry tell me, is where every scandal that ever happened happened; for the most part, it is a hotel of kept-women—and, my dears, you should live to see what they take the trouble to keep in California. However, in the company of Hoynigen-Huene [Hoyningen-Huene],95 I am
