Yes, Cartier has done some portraits (they are very strange, I must say, but the photography is, of course, beautiful) and I will send you one if ever he gives me any prints, but he has been selling them all, and that means I cannot have them till after they appear.
G. [George] Davis, so I understand, is grievously annoyed with me (soenso said that I said etc. Oh God!); fond as I am of George, I don’t think I will make the effort to clear it up, for I’m afraid it would only become more involved. Too bad, though.
Provided my foot is all better I will be seeing Newton this weekend: I wrote him today, relaying all your gossip, which will amuse him no end.
I am beginning to feel a trifle dizzy, dear Malcolm, so excuse me please if I leave the room; write me, and know that I miss you. Love from
T
p.s. The Bazaar informs me they are in receipt of a beautiful poem. That’s our Malcolm!
[Collection University of Delaware Library]
TO MARY LOUISE ASWELL
[1060 Park Avenue]
[New York]
[Week beginning 12 August 1946]
My darling,
I hope this reaches you at Clinton, and that you are having a fine time with your old friends; Mrs Saunders was so charming the night I met her (at the Russian Tea Room, remember?) and I know that she will take good care of you, precious.
Newton writes that he mailed you a note a few days ago; have you recieved [sic] it? We are spending the weekend together in Northampton … and no doubt will talk of you a good deal, for we both love you very much. I love you more than anyone, though: keep that in mind, young lady, and do not go throwing your affections around lightly.
I took my N.O. piece into the Bazaar today, and they seemed to like it very much, and I have got my finances more or less straightened out, so all is quiet on the western front. What is more, McFadden seems to think they will run my story in October after all.46 I saw dear little Peral [Pearl Kazin] for a few minutes, and B. [Barbara Lawrence], and both appeared to be fine, though busy busy busy.
Carson, as I may have written you, has been in Nantucket adapting The Member into a play with Tennessee Williams.47 She is looking better than I’ve ever seen her. She said to send you her love, and that she would see you as soon as you returned.
Marguerite [Young] tells me Eudora [Welty] is coming to live in New York … in September. Newton has been urging me to call Helen Eustis and make a date for lunch, but I am shy about such things, so when you come back will you arrange for the three of us to dine?48
Leo is out of town at the moment, but returns next week. I love him dearly; and I am ashamed that I did not see, really see what a sweet beautiful person he was from the beginning. I rode up to Conn. with the Trillings last Saturday (how this came about is very amusing; Leo had shown me some photographs of them, and while I was buying my train ticket who should be standing in line behind me but etc.… so I introduced myself, wasn’t that bold? and we had a very pleasant time) and liked them ever so much.49
Marylou, my precious, I miss you terribly, and I love you: a bushel, a peck, a hug around the neck
T
[Collection Aswell Family]
TO LEO LERMAN
[Northampton, Mass.]
[16 August 1946]
Dearest Leo—
And how was the vacation? Wonderful, I hope.
I’m sitting here waiting for N. to arrive from Wesleyan, so thought I’d drop you a ‘welcome home’ note—mainly to say how very good I thought your Kavan review was.50 It is a wonderful piece of work, Leo, and I am proud of you.
The Bazaar has my N.O. piece now, and they seemed to like it. I will probably be back in N.Y. before you are—call me when you get home—and we will have a good talk & I will show you the “article.”
A curious thing happened—I went to Conn. [Connecticut] that Saturday you left, and who should be standing in the ticket line alongside but the Trillings: I recognized them because of the photographs you showed me.51 So I introduced myself, and I am glad I did, for they were very sweet, and we had a pleasant ride on the train together. They were going to Westport. I liked them enormously—but, because of various things, I’m afraid I was in rather a jittery state, and made a bad impression. Anyway, they love you dearly—and so do I.
T
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO MARY LOUISE ASWELL
[Northampton, Mass.]
[17 September 1946]
Darling
A quick note, just to say I got your precious letter; isn’t it funny, I wrote you that same day, so you must’ve recvd. my missive on Monday, too. Or did it come? I could not remember Mrs Saunder’s [Saunders’s] initials.
The weather is superb, so autumn like, and I can only pray that this continues. The reviews of the O.Henry have been very nice to me, more than nice, and a little foolish, too: the Times, for instance, said my story was as “unforgettable as anything that has appeared since Henry James,” and the Post said it was “a masterpiece,” and lots more. Hooray for our team! And the O.Henry introduction said that A Tree Of Night was a better story than Miriam, which of course it is, and raved on and on about it. Wait until they read The Headless Hawk: they ain’t seen nothin yet.
Newton came last weekend, and oh what a wonderful time we had, and how we longed for you. Biddy came for dinner, and B. too, and Newton and I saw Henry V, and had lunch with Leo and Marguerite … all that was missing, darling, was you. And Newton is coming back Friday … why oh why aren’t you here?!! We are going to spend Saturday with Carson. Dearest precious Marylou, I love you with all of me
T
[Collection Aswell Family]
TO JOHN MALCOLM BRINNIN
[1060 Park Avenue]
[New York]
[September 1946]
Faithful friend,
Your letter and I arrived in New York at approximately the same time, but in rather different conditions: the letter was bright and witty and sweet, everything a letter should be, while I, on the other hand, am ill, unkempt, achy: I have contracted a touch of flu, not much, to be sure, just enough to put me in bed. But I had a wonderful time in Northampton. As always. Newton is very well, but very tired: those six weeks at Wesleyan were quite a strain … and he has so much to do, getting his Smith classes rolling, starting Melville, preparing a November lecture …52 Newton takes it all very seriously, which of course he should. Anyway, I know that he intends writing you, has spoken of it several times.
How miserable to have missed you! And I certainly plan on seeing you Oct. 5. You may stay here in this apartment if you like (please, Mr. Brinnin, lower that eyebrow), where, I assure you, you will be perfectly safe, for I am very moral these days.53 I had a letter from Henri while I was in Northampton, and he was disappointed about the Detroit project; Barbarra [Barbara Lawrence], on the other hand, was, in a note, tres excited about the poetry-painting piece.
Could your Cuban friend be the gentleman who came to call on me last Sunday? I was not here unfortunately, but Joe enjoyed him enormously.54
Really, I ought to send you that photograph … but where am I going to get a print? Perhaps Marylou [Aswell] will have some made for me, inasmuch as she is having one made for herself. It is going to be in their November issue: would that be any help? And speaking of pictures, you promised me one … which I have never received.
So that g.d.g.d. (god damn George Davis) thinks I’ve let him down. Ha ha, I’m laughing yet.
My book of stories has come to rather a halt. All terribly complicated, with cons outweighing pros at this point, even in my own mind. Still, the decision is still my own; I can if I want to, or so Random [House] says. But anyway I’d like to talk with you about it.
Maya Deren paid me a little call just before I left.55 Did you know she was an ex-student of Newton’s? He does not remember her with any pleasure. I kind of liked her though … that day. She is perfectly serious about these films, isn’t she? And some of her ideas are interesting. I wonder, however, if she has the talent to make anything of it. I have been reading some of Garrigue’s verse: Oh Malcolm, it’s so awful!56 What merit can you possibly find? Have you ever read Miss Lonelyhearts.57 I think you would like it.
Write me, dear Malcolm, and know that I miss you. Send me a card September 30th (or a little Duesenberg runaround, should you feel in the mood), for that
