T
[Collection University of Delaware Library]
TO HOWARD DOUGHTY
[New York]
[30 September 1946]
Howard dear,
I would have written before, but have been in bed all week with the flu; I should really rest a while longer, but today is my birthday, and I really cannot bare [sic] foregoing the festivities planned; a luncheon at the Ritz, no less, a cocktail party at the St. Regis, no less, and an evening soiree at Mrs. Aswell’s. Then I will go back to bed for a week of recuperating.
A letter from Malcolm informed me he was on his way to Yaddo. Did you have a good time? I hope so.
Esther Rolick came huffing and puffing up here the other day, and brought me an enormous piece of sculpture; she said she was leaving for New Orleans over the weekend. A long chapter from Marguerite’s novel is in the September Bazaar, but I don’t suppose you have seen it. And Newton has a wonderful review of Orwell in the newest Partisan. Carson has, or so I understand, abandoned her play, which is a shame, because what she read of it to me was really very good. Leo is in the midst of wild activities; at least he dashes around like that headless chicken, and comes to visit at strange hours: two in morning, and such.
Tell me, Howard, are you angry with me, or peeved? Your letters are nothing more than rather cold wig wags, and your signatures have declined from “love,” to affectionately, to affect., to Best. If you have some grievance, I wish you would let me know. In the meantime, much love from
T
[Collection Unknown]
TO MARY LOUISE ASWELL
[Northampton, Mass.]
[October 1946]
Darling Sister,
It was so sweet and so like you!, to send the telegram that eerie day. I am glad you liked the N.O. notes—nothing could please me more.
It is beautiful here, the weather; crystal. The mountains rimming the town are burning green, and blue, and there is the cold brown touch of Autumn everywhere; An enormous apple tree, very heavy with fruit, grows under the window; aside from burning leaves, is there anything more nostalgic than the odor of ripening October apples?
I am working hard, and thinking clearly, and am so very happy here with Newton: he is so good to me, and for me. He is at his office now, otherwise he would send a little love note as you did (which touched him deeply)—but he sends love and love, darling sister, and so, of course, do I.
Your little brother
T
P.S. Give love to my other sister, and say hello to sweet Pearl.
[Collection Aswell Family]
TO HOWARD DOUGHTY
[1060 Park Avenue]
[New York]
[17–19 October 1946]
Howard dear,
You were sweet to write, and thank you; and I am so disappointed that I did not get to see you; it must’ve been fun with Leo, and isn’t his apartment fantastic?: Vogue magazine is photographing me there Monday amid all the books and music boxes: after that appears, I suppose I might as well leave NY.
I am going to the hospital on Wednesday; I do not know how long I will be there, not more than a few days, I expect.58 Anyway, aside from all the pain of this, I am appalled by the expense; it is unbelievable! And my bank account is slipping out from under me, but fast. I think I will be all right, though, and fairly soon.
It was wonderful with Newton this last weekend. I love October so much I wish it could always be, and we went out into the country for a day … to Deerfield, to Amherst, all around … and it was so very beautiful.
The bad part about my ailment is it makes me so infernally and constantly tired and, though I want to go on writing and writing to you, I’ve just got to lie down now. I think of you Howard, dear, and miss you.
love,
T
[Collection Unknown]
TO JOHN MALCOLM BRINNIN
[1060 Park Avenue]
[New York]
[October or November 1946]
Malcolm, my pet
You do write wonderful letters, and the one this morning has cheered me up no end; inasmuch as I am going to the death-house tomorrow I could not have asked for a prettier farewell. The reason for this journey is as follows: my red corpucles [sic] are destroying my white ones rather like leukemia but not, I assure you, so fatal. One of the roots of this ailment is my tonsils, so out they come; aside from that there is nothing to be done but take a variety of tiresome and tiring drugs. However, I shall be in the hospital only a few days, for my other treatments can be taken anywhere … and there is no real pain involved in this, other than a constant state of fatigue. Anyway, it should not be much longer now. And a happy lad I’ll be, for I have not been able to work (which makes me really sick), and such goings on do limit one’s activities.
Newton is not to my knowledge giving a lecture in New York now after all … too busy: he works terribly hard you know, being, as he is, so concientious [sic] … but he will be here Saturday Nov. 23rd. Perhaps, if you are here, we could have dinner together. As to Elizabeth [Ames]: no, I don’t think there was anything to that hint; she is just a very lax person. She is in New York now, and dropped me a card asking if I would call her … but, with all my troubles, I have not been able to yet. Ely told me about your Sunday together, and how much she enjoyed it, even with a high fever. Speaking [of] fevers, I’ve had one of a 102 for two weeks: little T, who never allows anything to go to waste has, of course, made endless notes on the marvellous distortion of things.
No, the New Orleans notes haven’t appeared, but should by Saturday. That poor Bazzar [sic], they had trouble with the printers, and here comes their Oct. issue in November.
Funny about McCarthy and Bowden.59 You are different from them, Malcolm. Very. They represent everything I most dislike. If only such people could allow themselves a little honesty. They belong to that ever-increasing tribe, the cold-hearted ones. If you exclude emotion, as they have, then you die a little inside, and everyday [sic]. She, of course, has certain gifts, unhealthy though they be, but as for Bowden, how do you suppose he manages to justify himself to himself? And yet you know inside that boy I’m sure there must be a touch of tenderness left: as a child I’m sure he must’ve suffered very much. Strange then, isn’t it, that all his values should be negative, distorted? Excuse this ranting, please.
When you write Howard [Doughty] please, after extracting a goodly share for yourself, send him my love.
T
[Collection University of Delaware Library]
TO JOHN MALCOLM BRINNIN
[1060 Park Avenue]
[New York]
[Late November 1946]
Malcolm dear,
Hello! And why haven’t you written me? Surely you must realize, my dear, that in my precarious state I need all the encouragement my friends can give me. Or don’t you know about my precarious state? Precarious enough, at least, to put me in the hospital … Wednesday.60 Do send orchids, and a little love.
Ankey [Anky Larrabee] came here to see me yesterday, and we spent a pleasant afternoon together, me propped up in bed, and her at the foot leaning against a blue water-silk pillow, drinking, and eating fried chicken. A wonderful girl, Ankey, and I love her; in fact, I do not know when I have felt so warmly toward anyone.
As you probably know, Howard [Doughty] was in town last weekend, but I did not see him as I was in Northampton; however, he called Newton, and I talked to him, and he sounded tres cheerful. Also, I’ve heard the good news about the Men of Letters series wanting his Parkman.61 This should be the pick-me-up he needs.
Have you seen the reviews of Anais’s book?62 The Times labelled it a Surrealist Soap Opera. Of course I think it deserves a little better than that, but not much. [Edmund] Wilson goes on trial here Tuesday and he asked NA to come and testify in his behalf, but he couldn’t.
Did I remember to tell you how sweet I thought Bill Reed [Read] was?63
Leo Lerman is having an elegant soiree this aft. for Carson and, despite my inner collapse, I’m going to put in a brief appearance. I will give your love to all.
George Davis and I have patched up, and he is being very kind, even sent me an album of Gieseking records.64 Bob Lowry (you know him, don’t you?) has moved in with George, and they have been having little ‘at homes’ which are very pleasant.
I am beginning to think you are right … about the ballet. Went last week, and it was dreadful, a mixture of Minsky and music by Muzak. I hope never to return.
My love to the Vassarites, my love to you.
T
P.S. When you get the time, please write NA a good long letter, as he is and has been over-working, and one of your inimitable relaxations would do worlds for him. But do not mention my Ill-nez. Thank you, M.
[Collection University of Delaware Library]
TO JOHN MALCOLM BRINNIN
17 Clifton Place
Brooklyn 5, N.Y.
[Late November 1946]
Malcolm dear,
It was so sweet, so wonderful to have your letter; forgive me for not having answered sooner, but I have been in the hospital again (the Northampton hospital), this time with various infections. I saw Howard, as you may know: he was driving through N. [Northampton] with Granville [Hicks].65
