[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO ROBERT LINSCOTT
Fontana Vecchia
Taormina, Sicily
March 1st, 1951
Dear Papa,
I’d just mailed you a letter when yours came yesterday. A joy to have it, too. You’d been so on my mind.
Well now, I do believe I can stick to those dates, pray so … though just today the immediate sense of having to is a little paralyzing. And oh Bob … I tried last night, I’ve tried all morning, and it’s no Use: I cannot write 100 words, or even fifty, about the book. It isn’t possible to “describe” the book. And I don’t want anyone else to either. Newton could maybe; I will see that he does by jacket time. But in the meanwhile, as it’s just for the catalogue, couldn’t we pull that old chestnut: “The longawaited new novel etc”? Besides, it’s more intriguing really if nobody knows what the hell it’s about.
There are physical things, too. I want to use the same print that was in Local Color. And I want to have Anna Meyerson [Mayerson], the English artist, do a pen and ink drawing for the title page. She is a genuis [sic]. Maybe she would do a jacket for me too. She likes my work and I think she would do them for me for very little. All right?
I will send my new chapters as soon as I can.
I’m sorry Goyen is having such a poor time; but when has he not? and a good deal of it, I’m afraid, is his constant need to seem appealing: as though on your sympathy depended his sanity. I am so very fond of him; but I do weary of his adolescence.
I don’t know about Phoebe. I’ve had two letters returned, and never a word from her. I think though that many people, and Leo in particular, have been too unkind about her. I sure would like to see her show them. But.
I’d better get back to work. Love like always
t
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO ANDREW LYNDON
[Taormina, Sicily]
March 9, 1951
Magnolia my sweet,
Your letter came in the nick of time: now I can tell my lawyers to cancel the breach of promise suit I was bringing against one Magnolia Lyndon. But honey, you don’t mention your job at all; for instance, what is old Floyd like—is he SO? I’m happy you’re doing a new story; make a carbon, and I will return it. Oh yes, spring is here, but there is a sirocco today, and the whole house is rattling with wind: otherwise I would go out and pick you an orange blossom to enclose. Did you see Newton when he came to town? and the gold medal?182 and was it pretty? suitable for beach wear, say? I may stay somewhere with him a few weeks in August; but that depends on such a lot of other things. At any rate, we won’t leave here until July … either sail then, or go to Venice. The worst thing about Phoebe is, she ain’t gonna make no $ outa that book, nothing that will make her purse a burden. I’m so disappointed by all this that I’m not sure how easy it will be for me to see her when I do come home. I’m glad that you have new friends, and going out more; but I don’t believe that nobody’s asked you in days and days—mother knows her child. I’d heard about Agee’s heart attack, poor man; but was surprised when you said the Morning Watch was coming out as a book … it must be very brief indeed, or is there more to it than appeared in Botteghe Oscure?183 I agreed a good deal with what you said about it. Scribners sent me that From Here To Eternity shit; and shit though it is, the young man who wrote it looks extraordinarily constipated.184 Also finally finished Mr William’s [sic] dame-and-dago drivel about Mrs Stone.185 It’s, well, pathetic. You didn’t say much about The Rose Tattoo—what an irritating title; reminds me, I can’t think why, of bedbugs. Incidentally, speaking of bedbugs, and thinking of [words missing] what became of the romance involving Ernest J and Howard D [Doughty]? Is Ernest back roaming Times Square in his riding breeches? Jack and Kelly just passed through the room … both said give you their love. I want to know about Harold … is he doing all right with his work, how often do you see him? I don’t know, I wish the two of you had never separated; I still in my mind can’t quite make the division. Oh yes, tell me: do Paul [Bigelow] and Jordan [Massee] live together? Pearl wrote me that she’d had dinner with Leo and was quite revolted by him. She’s written a story about him that would take the skin off an elephant.
Darling it [has] gotten so late, I had no idea, so with a millian [sic] kisses and all the love in the world for my precious, my only Sister (daughter?)
t
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO ROBERT LINSCOTT
[Taormina, Sicily]
March 11, 1951
Dear Keeper of The Golden Umbrellas And The Golden Keys to Wisdom And Happiness,
You didn’t do too badly, Bob; but I have made a few deletions, all for what I think good reasons: call it, as Mr. Carlos Baker would, my stuffiness. Also, don’t you think it should be mentioned that I’ve published two other books?186
About Anna Meyerson [Mayerson]. Last summer I saw in a London Art Review some reproductions of her drawings, and was so taken with them, so, in a word, enchanted, that I got the idea then of her doing a jacket and frontispiece for The Grass Harp. I wrote her, and it turned out, she liked my work too. About a month ago she came to Taormina on vacation, and I let her read the mss. She is young, with a great reputation in Europe—Lincoln Kirstein is arranging a show of her drawings in New York. You said you would like to see samples of her work—but that is not possible, as she has never done a book before. Oh Bob, it will be a Triumph! Please let me handle it. As for the cost, what do you pay ordinarily? Anna will not be at all difficult—and the result will be more beautiful than you can possibly foresee: she is a genuis [sic]. I want it more than I can tell you. Anyway, she is already working on it—will be finished in time for me to send it along with my two new chapters (May 1st). Then I have only the last, and long, chapter.
I miss you. Love
T
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO CECIL BEATON
Fontana Vecchia
Taormina
March 18, 1951
Darling Cecil—
I was so happy to have the letter and know you were safely home—damp and rainy though it may be: your roses will soon be out. I envy you going to Spain, especially at Easter when there will be the feria in Seville. Though bizarre of Seville—Cornell and G. Mclintic [McClintic] are there, or so the Spanish sector of my international spy system informs me.187 But worse than that—the Emlyn Williams [sic] are here.188 Imagine my horror when she comes walking up the path. Or are you fond of them? I have them so associated in my mind with those Logan people that I can’t quite focus on them.
Am amazed that Simon’s [Simon Fleet] nose experiment should have proved such a dud. Funny thing, I was thinking about it only a few days ago and wondering if he’d done it. By the way, honey, it was your idea. But isn’t David a little beast to tell everyone!
Very much liked your jacket for The Loved and Envied.189 But did not care a bit for the book. Or, rather, found it a maddening mixture of good and embarrassingly bad writing. Too bad—because the theme was sound enough. Incidentally, I’ve read a remarkable book about modern Spain, which certainly you should read before going. “The Face of Spain” by Gerald Brennan [Brenan], published by the Turnstile Press.
Had a letter from C. Isherwood, who has given up movie work, taken an isolated house at Laguna and settled down to a novel—all of which is good news. I hope he sticks it out. Am getting slowly on with my opus, and must finish it by the end of June. I think I will leave Taormina then. I do love it here, and I know I will miss it awfully; but there is a limit. I hope so much you will come here before then. I long to see you, and long, too, for you to read my book.
It is wretched of those people to keep you so on tenterhooks; perhaps by now arrangements have been concluded. I did not have an especially favorable reaction to idea of G’s being produced as part of the Brighton Festival.190 It should be an event quite separate from other events—if you follow my reasoning.
You know I seriously think you should solve your servant problem by hiring Italians. A man and wife, you could arrange this through the British Embassy in Rome.
I’m afraid the Palmara (that restaurant) is on the verge of final collapse. Poor Fritz is drowned in debt and threatened with lawsuits. Wherever will Jules spend his evenings.
Don Elder writes me how much he loves you, and says they are expecting a great success with the Photobiography.191 When’s it coming out?
Jack sends love. I miss you, little heart,
Much love
T
[Collection St. John’s College, Cambridge University]
TO ROBERT LINSCOTT
Fontana Vecchia
March 20, 1951
Dear, dear, dear, dear Bob
Anna Meyerson
