Darling, what about Margaret Phillips for your play? I think she is one of the two or three best young actresses.255 By the way, when I suggested D. [Diana] Lynn, it was, you’ll remember, for a summer theatre foundation and your producers wanted a film name—and she was looking for just such a job. But really you might investigate the possibility of M. Phillips. Or Audrey Hepburn—or, and this is an odd suggestion—Cathy O’Donnell. I’ve only seen her in one picture “Best Years of Our Lives” and she isn’t a star, but she has a very charming quality. I met her here in Rome not long ago, and was rather struck by her.
Incidentally, I’m going to have an awful time finding the exactly right girl for my play. Eartha Kitt is too old, too soignée for the part—though there is another part I think she would be wonderful in.
No, I’ve not been anywhere near Switzerland, much less with the Selznicks. Actually, they aren’t so bad—and David has some really quite admirable qualities; but others, need I add, less so. But I have such a lot of amazing things to tell you about them; and about Montgomery Clift, too. I’ve seen quite a lot of the Rosselini’s [Rossellinis], too. This is a sad story.256
I was interested in what you write about Constance [Collier]—especially because I am trying now to write the little article about her. I’m glad you took Greta to see her—a friendship with Constance would do her a lot of good I think.
How delighted I am that the lecture tour is going so well—perhaps it will become an annual event: the club ladys [sic] will await you like the Spring swallows. I’m sure you must be enjoying it—are you booked for Town Hall?257 On the lecture circuit, that’s like playing the Palace.
Jack is fine—he has written really the most beautiful short story. He sends his best love.
I am looking so longingly to the time when I will see you. It probably will not be till early April. Actually, I hate the idea of going to N.Y. just then—maybe I won’t, who knows. I love you and miss you, precious one
T
[Collection St. John’s College, Cambridge University]
TO ANDREW LYNDON
[Ravello, Italy]258
[February 1953]
Andrew darling
Your letter caught me in the midst of an article (for the Bazaar, about Constance Collier) which I finished twenty minutes ago and so now hasten to write my own true sorella. It is JUST awful about the apartments … Jack has written his tenant and his sister to see what can be done about storing our junk. By the way, the apartment at 1060 [Park Avenue] is still there. This is between us: but I have been paying the rent of that apartment, and it is paid through April 1st—not for myself, but Joe, in case his business in Cuba didn’t work out; but I can’t go on doing it, I’m rock-bottom poor, and no joke, for reasons you perhaps can guess. What all this boils down to is, I don’t see why you can’t go and stay at 1060 as long as it’s empty. If you want to, please write Nina (P.O. Box 536, Havana) saying you would like to take refuge there a month or so. Do you think I should try and keep that apartment? Most of all, do you think it’s really true about Feb 27 and 232259 … isn’t there a possibility of its dragging on a few months? If only there were some place to go when we get off the boat. Because I don’t see how we can come home before the first of May. I haven’t finished the play, and it would be ace-stupid of me to go there before doing so.
The last few weeks here have been filled with peculiar adventures, all involving John Huston and Humphrey Bogart, who’ve nearly killed me with their dissipations … half-drunk all day and dead-drunk all night, and once, believe it or not, I came to around six in the morning to find King Farouk260 doing the hula-hula in the middle of Bogart’s bedroom. Jack was disgusted with the whole thing; and I must say I breathed a sigh when they went off to Naples.
There is a wonderful thunderstorm going on outside. All the buildings are a beautiful color …
I was interested in what you wrote about Eartha Kitt. I was never too serious about her, and anyway I think she is much too old for the part.
You didn’t tell me … is Rita [Smith] back with her boyfriend or not? Did you see Eudora [Welty] at the Poetry Center … what was it like?
I feel so sorry about Tiny [Rudisill].261 What a rotten thing. She ought long ago to have tried to recreate her life … well, no sense going into that.
Had a letter from Newton … very happy about his life at Harvard.
Lola is over here trying to yank the paper out of the typewriter. God, she’s tough. You can brain her with a rolled-up newspaper and faze her not the slightest.
Precious heart, write me at once about all our problems. Jack sends his love. I miss you all the time.
Dearest love
t
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO ROBERT LINSCOTT
Rome
May 20, 1953
Dear Bob—
This is Truman: remember me? I shouldn’t be at all surprised if my name had gone quite out of your head. I’m sure I deserve to be forgotten—but I’ve been in a whirl of one kind and another, sometimes several whirls simultaneously.
I’ve just come back from a month in London—and am leaving Rome Sunday—the best address to write to me is—
c/o American Express
Florence, Italy
Because I’m not altogether sure yet where I am going to spend the summer. I’ve finished my play (in a sense) but I want to put it aside and then spend about six weeks revising it. I don’t suppose you’ve gone to see the revival of ‘The Grass Harp’—some people thought it was rather good.262
Bob, my novel is really a long short story, and I want to publish a book of stories next winter or spring—I think I will have enough by then. I need to write short stories now, partly because they interest me and, perhaps more importantly, I am entering a new area of style, developing a different cast of characters and theses—and only when this is set in my mind can I really write a novel. I have a novel to write—but I want to try, with short story, trial and error, to set my guns right.
You ask what to do with the paper-back copies of ‘Harp’. I suppose you could send them to 1060 Park Avenue (my mother is back there)—or, if this is easy please to keep them at R.H., I would be grateful if you did that.
I am coming back to New York in the fall. Give my best to Bennett and to Bob Haas. Have a good summer on the farm and write me soon.
Love
T
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO ANDREW LYNDON
Rome
May 20, 1953
Dearest—
Bless you for your sweet letter, and the clippings. We have just come back to Rome, after a month in London. We had a fine time in London, except that I had to work every day—did you know that I wrote the script for Huston’s new picture? Called ‘Beat The Devil’. It’s a mad camp—I had fun doing it. We saw all the plays, including Graham Greene’s ‘The Living Room’—which is a great success but a very bad and spurious play (I think): Jack liked it.263 Alas, we have acquired a new dog, a little English bull puppy called Mr Bunkum—a present from Huston. But we lost Lola—she flew out the window and couldn’t find her way back—it was very sad. Kelly is fine, however. Jack has finished his new book. We are going to Portofino or Camogli for the summer (depending where we can find a suitable house) so that I can finish ‘House of Flowers’. We are leaving Rome next week—you can write me c/o American Express, Florence.
Darling, do you like your new apartment? I shall miss it so much, all of us living together that way. We are coming to New York in the Fall (Sept. or Oct.) but god knows where to live.
I don’t suppose you ever see Phoebe—I never hear from her. Or Newton.
My intuition tells me you are having an affair—a good sexy one. Who is it? What does he look like? What does he do? Please, dear—sua sorella is interested.
Such extraordinary things have been going on the last
