About Nelle. I am rather worried about her. Just between us, I have good reason to believe that she is unhappily in love with a man impossible to marry etc. And this, combined with several other things, has reduced her to a highly nervous condition. Which is why neither you nor I have heard from her in a very long while. I don’t know where she will be at Christmas, but I should think with her family in Monroeville. I have written her sister, Alice, to see if I can find out what is really wrong.
Also, am quite distressed by the newest developements [sic] in The Case. The strange court order, and the emergence of this Wichita lawyer, Russell Schultz [Shultz].97 These uncertainties, delays, endless draggings on—it makes me absolutely desperate.
Do hope Meme98 survived the trip and Pete is being kind to her.
When last I wrote I was on my way to London for the opening of my film “The Innocents.” I had a pleasant few days there, and the picture got wonderful reviews etc.
It is snowing here today, and skiers are beginning to arrive.
Love to the boys and love to both of you— Hugs,
Namurt Etopac
P.S. Is Lansing in Leavenworth County?99
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO BENNETT CERF
Poste Restante
Verbier, Switzerland
4 December 1961
Dearhearts,
Recvd. B.’s dear letter this morning, and hasten to answer. Phyllis was quite right: as long as I live I will always be at Random House! Leave my loved ones? Quel nonsense! But I think I know (though actually I may be wrong) from whence this rumour sprang. Last summer in Spain a McGraw-Hill editor was visiting that ghastly Robert Ruark, who lives near me.100 Anyway, he came to call (the editor) and told me all about this tax-dodge set-up they have called Manuscripts Inc. I told him it sounded very interesting, but that I had been at R.H. since I was a child, and was happy, and had no intention of leaving. He said well okay but I ought to think about it and that he would write me a letter with a “very good offer.” I never thought anything more about it, until I recvd. the letter saying M.H. would give me, if I would come to them, $25,000 outright, as a sort of gift, and all manner of other benefits, higher royalty rate etc. That was in Sept, and I never answered it until about a month ago when I came across it and wrote him and said I appreciated their interest but that etc. So maybe this guy, counting his chickens before they hatched, told somebody he had lured me there etc. Anyway, that’s the only thing I can think of.
Oh yes, I did get my stock dividend, and was very pleased and excited. Gosh, I wish I had bought some stock when it was first on the market.
Think you will like my version of Turn Of The Screw, “The Innocents.” It opens in New York the end of the month. Send me the reviews if you can remember. No, I was paid very little for it, and only did it because I’ve always thought it would make an excellent film and (mainly) because the director is a great friend and someone I admire.101 But I am such a fool—
Saw Bob and Arthur in London, had dinner with them in fact, and they both seemed very dandy, though (apparently) not too wild about the film he is making.
Yes, I would love to stay with you en route to Kansas. But I’m not exactly certain when that will be. I think around the 15th of January. About Kansas etc.—I am deeply in the dumps. There has been a wretched new development. It has been a year and a half since the boys were sentenced, and now, suddenly, because of some legal snafu, it seems as though there may be a NEW TRIAL. Which means it may be another two years before the damn thing is finally settled and I can finish the book. All so damn depressing. But we shall see.
I miss you both and love you with all my heart,
hugs
T.
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO ALVIN AND MARIE DEWEY
[Verbier, Switzerland]
9 Dec 1961
Dearhearts—
Do hope this finds you all together; Marie’s parents safely there and settled.
Alvin, it was very thoughtful of you to take the time, on the eve of your New Orleans journey, to write me a note and send those clippings.
I am sure you can imagine my reaction. Or perhaps you can’t. Because if there is a new trial, and the whole situation looks as though it would drag on another two or more years, I will be forced to abandon the project. It is an appalling decision, after all the tremendous work and time and money spent (and the book already more than half finished!) But I cannot afford, even with The New Yorker’s financial assistance, such a long delay; nor could I endure it mentally—this sort of sustained creative work keeps one in a constant state of tension, and when one adds to it all these other uncertainties and anxieties the strain is just too much. I’ll tell you something: every morning of my life I throw up because of the tensions created by the writing of this book. But it’s worth it; because it’s the best work I’ve done. Lord, I don’t know what to do. For the time being I intend to forge ahead—wait, and see what happens. And I still intend to come to Kansas next month—I certainly don’t intend to give up unless I’m forced to.
Forgive me for sending so complaining and depressing a note. But I am depressed, so why fight it.
Let’s see. Can’t I think of something cheerful? Well, yes. It’s cheering to think that before long I shall be seeing your dear kind faces. That, and the thought that we might (indeed, must) get very, very drunk together.
I love you all
T
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO MARIE DEWEY
[Postcard] [Verbier, Switzerland]
[13 December 1961]
Marie dear—
A quick note to say that what I wrote you about Nelle was unfounded; her father had a heart attack and she has been in Monroeville the past 2 months nursing him. She is coming with me to Kansas.
Love to all
T
[Collection New York Public Library]
TO CECIL BEATON
VERBIER
Switzerland
9 Feb. 1962
Cecil dearest—
Arrived back yesterday from my exhausting junket to New York, California and (mostly) Kansas. Anyway, found your sweet letter—I am sorry about your mother, I know how anguishing it must be to watch her linger on like this. I wish you could come to Verbier—it would do you a great lot of good. And god knows I have much to tell you.
Two days after I left here to go to the states Jack broke his leg skiing. And the idiot didn’t cable me. He’s been here all alone trying to take care of the dogs etc. Just a nightmare. He won’t be able to take the cast off for another three weeks.
I visited the murderers at Lansing Prison—an extraordinary and terrible experience. But I cannot write about it—it’s something I’ll have to tell you.
Don’t know what to do about the summer. Am inquiring about houses on Corsica. Have you been there? Will you come? I gather it’s very wild and beautiful. Anyway, I don’t want to go to Spain or Greece—but somewhere I’ve not been.
Dr. G. is in Zurich—and I would go see him, but I can’t leave Jack.
It just seems to me incredible that workmen are still in your house. Like some wierd [sic] comedy.
Oliver S. [Smith] is in India for 3 months. Of all people in the world, he is designing the debut party for Babe’s daughter:102 I [unclear] the model—ugh! But of course I kept my mouth shut. Had lunch one day with a new friend Princess Lee [Radziwill] (My God, how jealous she is of Jackie: I never knew); understand her marriage is all but finito.103
More anon.
Hugs and love
T
What happened about your trip to [unclear] & S. America?
[Collection St. John’s College, Cambridge University]
TO BENNETT CERF
Verbier
Switzerland
14 Feb. 1962
Dearest B.—
Cannot say how much I enjoyed being with you and Phyllis in New York and how much I appreciated the sweetness and hospitality of you both. I hope this finds you all brown and rested from your holiday. As for me, I arrived back here to find everything rather a shambles—Jack with a broken leg (ski-accident) and etc. However, I think I’ve got things sorted out now, and in any event am back at work.
Now, to start with minor matters and work up—