[Verbier, Switzerland]
16 Jan 1961
Dearest ones,
Forgive the silence; but the trip to Munich—as you know—was an ordeal, and to top it all my bulldog, my much beloved Bunky, died while we were there. I’d had him eight years, and loved [him] more than anything in the world. It was like losing one’s child, and I wept till I could weep no more.
We returned to Verbier last Tuesday—and now I feel much better; it is such a marvelous climate, and I am already brown again from the sun.
The package you sent me (you shouldn’t have: but how very sweet) hasn’t arrived, but I’m sure it will.
So sorry to hear about Roland Tate.60 I do hope he is better. He is a fine man; I like him extremely.
Have started work again on the book—I now have contracts for it with 7 foreign publishers: England, France, Italy, Spain, Germany, Poland, Japan. So all the Deweys, including Pete, are going to be world-famous. I think you’ll like yourselves in the book—you’re awfully nice. But I’m not so sure others will be too pleased.
Please write soon; I so value your letters, your friendship—indeed, everything about you. Love to the boys,
Many embraces
T
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO ALVIN AND MARIE DEWEY
[Verbier, Switzerland]
[27 January 1961]
Dearest All—
Am thrilled with my Christmas package. I love my beautifully-initialled pillow-cases, and immediately put them on my bed. And the book, aside from being the perfect souvenir, is an excellent source of information for my book. Bless you, and thank you.
Am working hard—but feel terribly restless because I’ve had to give up cigarettes (on Doctors Orders). But after 20 years of chain-smoking, it is far from easy—I can’t think about anything except this horrid craving for a Chesterfield. I hope Paul and Dewey never get started.
Am off to London Monday (this being Saturday), and will be there a week.
Love to all, and many hugs
T
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO ALVIN DEWEY
[Postcard] [Verbier, Switzerland]
[Late January or early February 1961]
Dear Alvin—
Considering that I have 2,000 pages of notes, it’s amazing what I left out—but what is the name of the secretary in the Sheriff’s office.61
Best—Truman
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO CECIL BEATON
[Verbier, Switzerland]
Feb 10, 1961
Dearest one—
Arrived back from London yesterday—and oh how glorious it seems here: such sun, skies, silence, air. I really do love it. If you want to come back, I have a place for you now—we bought a charming little apartment not far from the Parc Hotel. Am furnishing it now, and it should be ready in a month—I decided it was a wise thing to do: it gives me a European base, and is a good investment and anyway we both love Verbier.
About London. I was there 8 days, finished the script, and saw Dr. Gottfried 5 times. I like him, and trust him. He says my pain is (was) angina-spasms caused by a bad case of nicotine poisoning. I have stopped smoking completely (agony!!!), and take 30-odd pills a day. I still have the pains—sort of like having an endless series of little heart attacks—but Dr. G. seemed very certain that I would recover. Incidentally—he said it was a damn good thing I’d been drinking those martinis as they acted as an antidote to the poison.
I called up Eileen [Hose] and asked if I could stay at Pelham Place; alas, someone else was staying there, and she sounded so nervous, that I could tell it wasn’t convenient. Sonia Pitt-Rivers came for dinner; I gather the marriage is not a success.62 K. [Kenneth] Tynan called by with his ladylove, Penelope Gilliatt.63 Rather liked her. Too busy for theatre etc. but did see “Dolce Vita.”64 Honestly, my sweet, how could you have liked it? So pretentious, fake arty and BORING! actually, have many little tid-bits to tell about my London visit—but will save them for anon. Write soon. Miss you. J. sends love.
T
P.S. Don’t tell anyone about my buying apt. here. Prefer to keep that a little secret.
[Collection St. John’s College, Cambridge University]
TO BENNETT CERF
Poste Restante
Verbier
Switzerland
12 Feb. 1961
Dear B—
Still here, and still working—though greatly hampered by having had to give up cigarettes (following a severe case of nicotine poisoning that damaged my heart). However, the book progresses and I continue to be completely absorbed by it.
Bennett, I must get my income-tax done. So could you please tell Somebody to send me an account of all monies paid me by Random during 1960? Thank you.
I suppose, at just this moment, you and my favorite girl, the classic Phyllis, are somewhere sipping something under a coconut tree. Anyway I hope so. I miss you both, and love you both—
Truman
Several folk have written me about a dinner-party (at Afdera’s); seems you sat next to C.Z. [Guest]—and the resulting conversation, as I’m told, was very amusing. C.Z. herself wrote me about it—said she thought you were “very attractive, but quite a bully!” Now really: what do you mean bullying a poor little idiot like Mrs. G.? And what did you say to her?
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO MARY LOUISE ASWELL
[Capote]
[Poste Restante]
[Verbier, Switzerland]
2 March 1961
Darling One—
My advice is: enjoy this little junket to N.Y.—and then quietly return to Canyon Rd.65 At any rate, my love, how can I help: much as I would like. If you were going to write the true story of Carmel and how she was pushed out of the Bazaar (and was no longer allowed to sit at the best table in the Pavillon)—ah, that is high drama!66
Seriously, though, my entire knowledge of Carmel consists of a few dinner parties, and a half-dozen Pavillon lunches (during which I couldn’t understand half of what she said—the fault, on both sides, of the many martinis).
Of course the book could be really very, very interesting: if Carmel would tell the truth about advertising, and Hearst, and the whole fashion racket. Anyway, the people who know her best (that I know) are Dick Avedon and Diana Vreeland. Both, as you know, very gabby types. Lord, I wish you luck. But if you don’t really find it working out—don’t be a fool: say so, and quit.
Our own news is a mixture. The worst news is—Bunky, my darling bulldog, died. It knocked me out. Jack, too. After all these years it was like losing a child. Jack is fine—skis a great deal and looks wonderful. I am always working on my book, so don’t look too great.
Give my love to Gray and Leo. They are wicked never to communicate.
Hugs and kisses
T
[Collection Aswell Family]
TO ALVIN AND MARIE DEWEY
Grand Hotel, Venezia
Sunday, March 26 [1961]
Venice, Italy
Dearest All—
Have come down from the mountains to see Spring, and spend Easter in this lovliest [sic] of all cities. It is so beautiful here—fruit-trees in flower, birds swooping about. We will stay perhaps a week, then go back to Verbier until April 20th; then am going again to Spain (will send the address) but not for the whole summer, only until early July.
If you are sure that a cuckoo clock is what you want for the new house, then I shall find one for you. They make them in Switzerland, though I believe the best ones come from Austria. The new house begins to sound as though it were almost ready to move into. When do you?
Had a long letter from Nelle, who said she was writing you, so I daresay you’ve heard her news by now.
Aside to Alvin: Here is a question that I can find no answer to, at least not among my notes. Which is: in Reno, when the patrolman spotted the car, and recognized the licence number, how did he know it was the car, the licence number. I mean, how did he, or you, know what the licence number was? After all, Dick and Perry stole this car, and then stole a Kansas licence plate in Kansas City. So how did you know what kind of car they were driving or, more importantly, how did you know the licence number?
All the above is rather awkwardly phrased, but I think the question is clear.
Marie, you were very dear to drive out to Valley View. I’m so glad the graves are now being marked. It haunted me that they had’nt [sic] been.
That was good news about Judge Tate. Though I was rather surprised, for I understood he was incurably ill.
So Lillian Valenzuela is having a baby. Well—as long as it doesn’t look like the father.
It is now almost a year since I last saw you. I’ve missed you the whole time. Love to you both and the boys—
hugs
T
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO ALVIN AND MARIE DEWEY
Verbier
4 April 1961
Dear ones—
Wrote you from Venice, but came back here today and found Alvin’s note, with clipping, about the May 8th hearing for S. & H. One line of Alvin’s disturbed me—about the possibility of a Federal Judge giving them a “stay of execution”: as with Andrews.67 The problem is: I have reached a point in my book where I must know how the book ends! Now—do you think it possible that the sentence will not be carried out? I know it is an impossible question to answer—but what is your opinion? Real opinion?
I am going back to Spain (Casa Millar, Calle Catifa, Palamos, Costa Brava, Spain) on the 20th of April; but mail will be forwarded from here, in case you write before then.
I am looking for a really pretty cuckoo clock. Saw one—an antique—but it has an owl instead of a cuckoo. Would you like that?
This just a note. Love to all and many hugs
T
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO DONALD WINDHAM
[Verbier, Switzerland]
as from: Casa Millar
Calle Catifa
Palamos
Costa Brava
Spain
14 April 1961
Dear Boy—
We went to Venice for a few days—very few,
