2

May 28, 1954

Mr. Peter Kumalo,
c/o DRUM, Box 1067,
Johannesburg, S. A.

Dear Mr. Kumalo,

Congratulations to you on your excellent short story, DEATH IN THE SUN which it was my privilege to read as one of the judges for DRUM's Short Story Contest. I am wondering if you'd like more like it which you would be kind enough to send me? There is great interest in things African at the moment in our country, particularly South Africa, it being so much in the news these days, and the books of Allan Patton and Nadine Gordimer have been widely read here. So recently I talked with one of the best American publishers about the possibility of an anthology of short stories by African writers and received a most favorable response, asking me to assemble such a collection, and promising to give it very careful consideration. If accepted for publication, there would be the usual pro rata anthology payment to each writer for the use of his work. Certainly such an anthology would further help acquaint American readers with the life and problems of South Africa.

If you have a half dozen or so stories dealing with the problems, inter-group relations, or folk life of the people, I would be very happy to see them for consideration for such an anthology as soon as you can conveniently post them to me. I admire your work very much and would like to include it in such a book. Peter Abrahams has promised to send me some of his stories from London, and I have the feeling that very interesting volume can be assembled.

With all good wishes to you for continued good writing,

Sincerely yours,

October 1, 1954

Dear Mr. Kumalo:

Please forgive me for being so long in having
acknowledged your two short stories, which arrived
while I was away in the country. I have just
recently got back to New York City. The response
to my appeal for stories from Africa has been
most generous and, to date, I have received more
than fifty manuscripts from African writers so I
have put them all together and am planning to
read them all at the same time. So you will be
hearing from me again about your stories.

Certainly I will be happy to submit them to
magazines in case they seem suitable, and should
one of them be sold, I will send the money on to
you. As far as my Anthology is concerned, the
stories may be published in magazines first, since
that makes no difference.

I certainly hope that you are doing better now,
as you are much too talented a writer to be bur-
dened by physical illness which might interfere
with your work. Keep well,

All my good wishes to you.

Peter Kumalo
Flat 19, Block 5, Waterfall Road
Simon's Town C. P.
South Africa

Flat 19, Block 5, Waterfall Rd.
Simon's Town, C.P. South Africa,
Sunday: 24th. OCTOBER 1954.

Dear Mr. Hughes,

I told Sampson, the editor of DRUM, that I wanted
to send "Joe Mkize Takes A Wife", a recent story of mine, to you
for the anthology. This is a story that was accepted for the Dece-
mbber issue. It will be fine, depending on if the story is accept-
ed, if you mention its connection with DRUM. The editor says it
will be good for their prestige.

I have only read a few of your short stories here and there
in magazines but very few and I always wondered how I could get to
know your work better. So it will be greatly appreciated if you can
send them to me, as you say you can. The titles "The Ways of White
Folks" and "Laughing To Keep From Crying" I have heard of but I'm
looking forward to reading their contents. I remember telling you
that I wrote some poetry at one time. Those poems I have long since
dismissed as the gushings of an adolescent fountain because that's
just what they are, hopelessly amateurish stuff. They were written
between the years 1947 and 1950. One note book however, containing
some of the earliest and probably the most inspired poems, was lost.
Actually the book, a cheap exercise one, was lent to a young German
acquaintance, living at Sea Point, a suburb of Cape Town, who was
passionately interested in poetry and he kept it so long that by
the time I tried to get it back I found out that he had gone away
suddenly someplace, perhaps to Israel. I never heard of him again.

The others are still in their original rough state and if
I send you any I shall have to type them out first so as to make
them readable enough. This may not yet be for a while until after
I finish my stories.

When I have time I shall be getting a few small sketches
together to send to you because I think I told you that I paint.

While I'm about it I might as well tell you that my name
is really CLARKE and not KUMALO. The name Kumalo was chosen in the
first place for that short story contest entry "DEATH IN THE SUN"
simply because I didn't have the guts to have it put into print
under my own name. I suppose it's modesty really. It's most probably
due to the fact that I originally wanted to make a name for myself
as a painter in the first place but after considering it I don't
see anything wrong in becoming known for one's writing as well as
for one's painting. Anyway, now you know: All my best wishes.

November 3, 1954

Mr. Peter Clarke
Flat 19, Block 5, Waterfall Road
Simon's Town, C.P. Union of South Africa

Dear Mr. Clarke:

This will acknowledge receipt of manu-
script, JOE MKIZE TAKES A WIFE, which has arrived dur-
ing Mr. Hughes' absence from New York City. I know
he will be glad to hear from you and to receive this
manuscript. It will be brought to his attention upon
his return to New York, but he would want you to know
that it has arrived in good shape.

With thanks on behalf of Mr. Hughes,

I am

hs/s

Flat 19, Block 5, Waterfall Rd,
Simon's Town, C.P. South Africa.
16th. NOVEMBER. 1954.

Dear Mr. Hughes,

Many thanks for your delightful book of poems "THE WEARY BLUES" which arrived safely more than a week ago. I was really thrilled to receive it and I'd like you to know that I appreciate it a great deal, I don't think that I have enough words to say at the moment just how much. Anyway, thanks. Haven't had a chance to get down to typing those poems of mine yet but am getting down to it soon so you will be able to have a decent batch of them before Christmas.

Looking through two note-books of my poems I see that several of them are still unfinished. I'm surprised that I actually wrote them because it is only now that I can really appreciate my own efforts and get down to reading them, not as their creator but as a spectator. It's quite an experience, especially after all these years that they have been written and stuck away in a chest.

I have just finished my short story for the DRUM short story contest. It is about the friendship of two boys and is set in "local scenery" which made writing it ever so easy. Right now I'm in the mood for working but the only trouble is that I feel I want to write and paint and carve and read and relax all at the same time and feeling that way is rather awkward because I just can't make up my mind which is to be first. Well, I have been able to read five books in the last two weeks. It took me two weekends to read Peter Abrahams' books MINE BOY and WILD CONQUEST which I enjoyed very much, perhaps because I have never read any of his books yet. The latter book I found vivid and convincingly real. Living in Africa today and knowing this country, I can understand.

I read Erskine Caldwell's *A HOUSE IN THE UPLANDS*, a second time because I read it years ago, when I was still in my teens and didn't even know who Erskine Caldwell was. I have a Signet edition of his short stories under the title *THE COURT-ING OF SUSY BROWN* which includes the stirring story ABE LATHAN, COLORED vs. THE PEOPLE which, excluding the fact that the people concerned are Americans, could just as well be a story about South Africans. I have already read his TOBACCO ROAD which, by the way is banned in this country. I think he certainly is a versatile writer of drama and humour.

Two favourite books in my collection are Virgil's *PASTORAL POEMS* and Rabindranath Tagore's *THE CRESCENT MOON*. My copy of the Crescent Moon is a 1920 edition, illustrated with paintings by some of India's most famous *writers*. I rescued it from destruction when I was about nine years old because it had been scratched in by the pencils of my cousins and the edges had been mutilated. For years and years I have been looking for more of Tagore's works but have so far been unsuccessful. But on Saturday I found another 1920 edition of *THE CRESCENT MOON* which I bought for two shillings at a second-hand books and antiques shop in Cape Town. A friend of mine felt in love with it and before I had had it even four hours she was given it as a present.

I have also been painting lately, mainly subjects about Guy Fawkes Day, 5th. Nov. which is celebrated out here too although it is actually an English Historical event. It's not a public holiday but the children celebrate it with masks and fireworks and dressing up in old clothes and parading about with a stuffed figure which they call a GUY. It's fun, I can tell you, something like Halloween is, or must be: Found time

Flat 19, Block 5,
Waterfall Road, Simon's Town,
Cape Province, S.AFRICA.
22nd. NOVEMBER.1954.

Dear Mr. Hughes,

Here at last are the poems I promised
to send you. This is a more or less representative sel-
ection of the poetry I have written. Included are some
of the earliest ones (MORNING, SHADOW &SUNLIGHT, EVENING,
SONG OF A STORMY NIGHT, HIGH TIDE & EBB) and some of
the latest ones. The last ones I wrote were EVENING?
DISTRICT SIX, and SUMMER NIGHT and TIDE, 1950.

My favourites are definitely the last three poems
and then I also like MORNING and HIGH TIDE & EBB. The one,
TO S.D., is dedicated to Salvador Dalí of all people be-
cause there was a time when I was a great admirer of his
painting. But most of the "surrealist" poems I wrote and
liked because of the play of words, also it gave me a
chance to run riot in a sophisticated and flowery kind
of way, if you know what I mean.

I hope you will derive some pleasure from the read-
ing of the poems. Do criticize them if possible and let
me know what you think of them: I don't know if I shall
ever write any more poetry, when I stopped in 1950 I had
no intention of starting again. Perhaps it was because I
turned 21 in that year and felt cut off from my adolesc-
ence and of course poetry, but now, 1954, I'm thinking
that if I had more time for writing and my other inter-
ests as well then I would possibly start again. Perhaps...

That's all for now. Best wishes.

20 East 127th Street,
New York 35, New York, U.S.A.

February 24, 1955.

Dear Peter Clarke,

I can't tell you how very much I appreciate your great kindness in sending me six of your beautiful paintings! They are lovely indeed, and I shall frame them to hang on my studio walls—where I have also six black-and-whites by Jacob Lawrence, one of best young Negro artists. It's certainly good of you, and I'm most grateful...I also have your poems which it is kind of you to take the trouble to copy out for me. They're very pretty, but I don't think nearly as good as your short stories or your painting, so maybe there's no harm done if you don't go back to poetry—unless, of course, you feel the urge. The poetry in your stories is much more powerful and individual than in your poems. The poem I like most is SONNET—"to play, play, play..." etc., which is charming. By the way, did you ever recieve a copy of my book, THE WEARY BLUES, poems, which I sent you about a year ago after reading your first story in the DRUM contest? At any rate, I'm sending you now another book of my poems, also THE WAYS OF WHITE FOLKS, and my newest little book, one on jazz with rather amusing illustrations, by boat so I guess you will get them weeks hence. (THE WEARY BLUES, by the way, was sent via the DRUM office). (At that time I didn't have your address...Now, as to your stories. In the book I wish to use four: DEATH IN THE SUN, THE GIFT, ELEVEN OCLOCK: THE WAGONS AND THE SHORE, and THE DEPARTURE—all of which I like immensely, THE GIFT particularly—a very beautiful story. But all are excellent, I think. You must write more!...JOE MKIZE TAKES A WIFE I am returning to you by boat mail. It's a cute story, but for anthology purposes not "African" enough, in that it might happen anywhere. And since I now have gotten over a hundred manuscript, I'm choosing the ones which give the most distinctive glimpses of your wonderful continent with as much local color as possible, rather than those that are

Simply plot stories that might happen in New York or London or any other place. Besides, your JOE story is what we call here a "slick paper" magazine type story, amusing and nicely written, but not particularly literary, and certainly not indicative of your very fine descriptive and poetic gifts revealed in THE WAGONS, for example, or THE GIFT. The JOE kind of stories are good to sell to popular magazines—but the others are of the sort that will make you a literary name over the years. Thanks, any-how, for letting me see JOE which entertained me greatly. We've got such muscle-men here, too, and the Harlem YMCA has a show of such each year—which is really something to see!

Sure, I'd say go ahead with both your painting and your writing. You're O.K. at both, and both are fun, don't you think? I hope the time will come when you can make your living from them. Keep well, too. One needs a lot of strength to battle with the arts!...Do you know Richard Rive at Peninsula High School in Eiep River, or Dyke Sentso, or Bruno Esekie (Mphahlele) who've also sent me some excellent stories? South Africa and Nigeria will be well represented in my book which is almost ready to send to the printers.

20 East 120th Street,
New York 35, New York, U.S.A.,

March 2, 1955.

Peter,

Although I just wrote you a long letter the other day which I guess you have by now, thanking you for those very beautiful paintings you sent me, telling you how much I like your stories (much stronger than your poetry), and letting you know that the anthology is almost ready to submit to the publishers—I forgot to thank you for sending me the photos of yourself and the countryside. Thanks a lot! I believe I told you I'm sending you my new "JAZZ" book, also the two books of short stories you said you didn't have. LAUGHING TO KEEP FROM CRYING is out of print and rather hard to get, so I'm sending you one of my last two copies. So don't give it away like you did poor old Tagore! ...Caldwell is a very light colored man, so his friends say—and he looks it. I know him slightly, like his books very much....MINE BOY and TELL FREEDOM I like immensely, too. Others of Abrams I haven't read, although he's sent me some which I hope to get around to soon. Been reading nothing but your stories (and other still-at-home Africans) lately. Some really very good! ...Did I ask you if you know Richard Rive who writes wonderful letters. He's of Cape Province, too, isn't he? And is a hurdler, so he tells me....Speaking of Marian Anderson, I attended her debut at the Metropolitan Opera House, which was quite exciting—the first singer of color to break in that citadel of white music. She sang a soceress—but a very beautiful looking one—like a romantic gypsy—and rocked the place with applause. The boxes were full of Negroes, all dressed up!...I guess you know here in the U.S.A. the words *coloured* and *black* and *Negro* all mean the same. We don't have the three-way color line that S. A. and the British West Indies have. Here anybody who is at all colored is segregated in our South no matter how light in skin—which, in a way, is good, since it creates no division between any of us of Afro-American background. We're all in the same black boat! But New York is about like London, or maybe better, in that active and insulting discrimination is rare. But a few hours Southward, oh, boy!...DEPARTURE is a beautiful story! A-l with me! Sincerely,

Wed: 2nd. March 1955.

Dear Mr. Hughes,

Just a little more than an hour ago I arrived home, saw your letter, opened it and said "WOW!" Gosh, it sure is good news and now I really feel on top of the world. All this after receiving the DRUM first prize! Things seem to be taking shape at last but sooner than I expected, much too soon. I was only thinking that perhaps I would be able to get a first place in about two or three years time, not just yet and certainly not now, 1955. Anyway I got it and I feel a great deal satisfied with my effort.

Yes, I did receive the book of poems, THE WEARY BLUES, some time ago, 8th. November in fact. I think I wrote to thank you for it. But thanks again, it's a swell book and it gave me great pleasure to add it to my collection. I have read it several times over but it is due for another reading again soon, very soon. I find them immensely interesting, each poem, from beginning to end. I used to make a point of reading some poetry last thing at night before going to bed because I found it so restful. You said you would send THE WAYS OF WHITE FOLKS but I thought you must have forgotten and I didn't like to remind you about it seeing that I was going to get it for nothing. I have heard a bit about that book so I am looking forward to receiving it. Also your newest little book, the one on jazz.

Yes, I was hoping you would not accept that JOE MKIZE story. Although I thought it very funny when I was busy writing it, right now I almost regret writing it and having had it accepted for publication. Hell! But the guys thought it great fun and told me so whenever we bumped into each other. But then most of them go for slick stories in a big way. I didn't expect you to want all four stories for the anthology but go right ahead; It's quite o.k. with me. I definitely am going to write much more in future. What with the encouragement of DRUM'S first prize and your good news, I'd be a dope if I did not go on. I certainly enjoy writing as much as I enjoy painting and I think it's fun being able to do both. Of course one needs to put a great deal of effort into both to make them good but it is always nice to sit back and look at it when it is finished: I know Richard Rive and I've seen him around Cape Town but we aren't friends even though we know each other. I know he is a teacher because he taught the class my brother was in last year. Also, somebody told me he writes occasional articles about athletics for some mags. but I didn't think he wrote stories as well. That's nice. I've heard of Dyke Sentso and Ezekiel Mphalele already through DRUM and I've read their stories. They are both good. I am dying to see what the finished book will be like because so far there's been nothing like it done out here. Oh, there have been collections of short stories but only by White writers. I guess our writers have been waiting for a chance like your anthology for a long time. I think I can speak for them when I say that I hope this won't be the last anthology.

(5th. March). I'm very glad that you like the paintings I sent you and I get a great kick thinking of them being hung up on your studio walls. That's grand. I don't know anything about the work of Jacob Lawrence but if he's a negro I really would like to hear more about him. Is he a friend of your's? I too collect pictures and have a nice small collection of water-colours, drawings, wood-cuts and linocuts. A few of them are by amateurs but the majority are by professionals, some South Africans, some Europeans, one Chinese and one American (Virgil Partch, the

Cartoonist). I am very much interested in obtaining more graphic art, particularly pen and ink drawings, lithographs, silk-screen prints, wood-cuts etc. but it always takes so long to make the right contacts. I gained most of my pictures by exchanging with the artists, a picture of mine for one of theirs. I prefer pictures which include figures. Landscapes are nice but I feel anybody can do that but with figures there is always something that can be told: I like that card you sent me at Christmas time, Aaron Douglas' AFRICANESQUE. Is he also a negro? I know about the work of most of the big names in American painting today but just about nothing of the younger artists emerging now. There is a great variety of styles in art in the United States and I like some of it. One of the painters I admire is Ben Shahn of Roosevelt, Jersey. I have one little book of his paintings that I bought in 1950 in Cape Town. I really think he is good. (I wrote to him once about his paintings and sometime afterwards he sent me a delightful little booklet about his thoughts on art. I have it now among my other books. While we are on the subject of books now— do you know anything about the American writer Pietro di Donato? He wrote a book some years ago called "Christ In Concrete" which I thought brilliant).

(6th. March). Yesterday being Saturday, I decided to go to Cape Town to see the current exhibition of German Graphic Art (1906-1955). I make a point of seeing all of the big Art shows in Town and have seen almost everyone of them ever since I first started visiting exhibitions in 1947. Last year I saw the 16th. to 17th. century German Graphic Art exh. also at the National Gallery. About both the shows I can say that they were superb. Contemporary German Art is vigorous and stimulating although most of it is very "modern", by which I mean Abstract. It is mainly the older artists whose work is centred around figure subjects. Of the older ones I like Erich Heckel, Karl Hofer, Kokoschka (I have a book about his work), Barlach, Marc, Nolde and Pechstein: Usually I see these exhibitions about three times before they close and I will most probably see this one again.

No, I don't think I shall be going back to writing poetry again, once was quite enough. In any case I don't think I would be able to make a name for myself as a poet. Another thing, writing poetry is hard work; well, I think so. I would far rather write stories and put the poetry that I have in me into them. That way it comes easier.

Well, I guess this is all for now so I'll just close. Thanks a lot for your news and I hope it won't be long before there is more good news regarding the anthology. Till then.

Yours sincerely,

[Clarke]

Wednesday: 16th. Nov. 1955.

Dear Langston,

It has been months and months since I last heard from you. I have
been wondering why the long silence or am I the one who is to blame? I hardly
think so because the last letter I wrote to you was posted on Wed. 4th. May (I
keep a check on the letters I post people as a matter of habit so I am absolutely
sure that the letter was posted on that date). Did you get it because I have been
thinking that perhaps it got lost in the post. I certainly hope not.

I saw Richard on Saturday, in fact I spent the afternoon at his home. He was
having a little party for a small group of us which included another writer friend
James Matthews and a photographer Lionel Oostendorp and one other friend. DRUM was
responsible for our getting to know each other. It was quite a happy little affair
and we spent the time eating and drinking and being merry while talking books and
stories, art, poetry, music and that great old one and only subject, W-O-M-E-N.
(what bunch of men getting together informally don't talk about women?). We listen-
ed to Beethoven as rendered by Malczynski, we listened to Borodin's "Prince Igor",
Prokofiev, Smetana, excerpts from "Hamlet" and "Macbeth" and John Gielgud reading
T.S.Eliot's "Preludes" (which begins "The winter evening settles down with smell of
steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days..." and so on.
A nice poem beautifully recited). There was also Chopin and Delibes. Richard really
has a fine collection of records which make truly enjoyable listening.

So far none of us know what to write about for the DRUM competition. Yes, we do
intend entering again. But we just can't think of a plot for a story that is sure
to bring home the jack-pot and you can guess that we all are keen on laying our hands
on the prize this time. To tell you the truth, I am not so fussy but I am going to
enter just for the fun of it. Having won once I am quite willing that somebody else
should win next (not that I couldn't use that dough. I could chuck my job and write
and paint seriously as I so much want to do. Like any other artist, or should I say
like the traditional artist, I could live indefinitely on bread and cheese — providing the bread is just the right brown whole-wheat and the cheese has just the right tangy flavour that I like so much — and wine in this country is cheap enough, too darn cheap).

It is supposed to be summer out here at the Cape right now but we have been
having quite a variety of weather, warm, cold, dry, wet, bright, gloomy, I think
we've gone the whole hog. But on the fine week-ends I go out painting landscapes
in water-colours. These little painting outings take me to the places where I don't
go as a rule. In a way it has amounted to quite a tour of the Peninsula. But I still
have to go over onto the Atlantic coast side of the peninsula still. I do enjoy go-
ing out like that but I would enjoy it even more if I had a friend to go with me.
The few friends of mine who do paint live miles away from me and it takes us too
long to get together on a sudden impulse. Most of them are too lazy anyway so I go
alone.

How is the anthology coming on? We are all anxious to know. How about writing
sometime soon, before the New Year anyway? That's giving you a lot of time. Best
wishes.

P.S.: I couldn't get to the Post Office on Thursday morning so I am
posting it today, Friday.

Flat 19, Block 5,
Waterfall Road,
Simon's Town, C.P.
SOUTH AFRICA.
30th. June. 1960.

Dear Langston,

O.K. I did forget about the poems. But only
because I was so damn busy I just didn't give it a thought
except in very odd moments of relaxation . . . when I was
too tired to pull it out and send it off to you. Of course
I also haven't had a chance to settle down and write some
new poems. So you'll have to make do with these. Use what
you can, if you can, and reject the rest. Sorry there is
so little of it. But as I said before, I have never taken
myself very seriously as a poet.

Maybe I'll still get down to writing more poetry some time
and I also want to get down to writing more short stories
too. The urge is still there. The time isn't. At present
I'm giving all my time to making prints, lino-prints that
is. I'll probably send you a few some time too. These are
a bit better than the others but all small stuff, small-
scale stuff. I find colour-prints interesting, not at all
as difficult as I thought at first. A friend of mine kept
a pile of lino for me, left-overs from a new office block
where he works in Cape Town. It was a jolly good idea.
The stuff was in odd little shapes. But I found I could
use it. The prints are, in some cases, just a few inches
in size.

Even though I'm not doing any writing for publication I'm
still writing. But this is all odd stuff going into a kind
of journal I've been keeping over the years, a whole lot
of odd items, thoughts, observations, notes about people
and characters and events and heaven alone knows what all.
One or two friends have been allowed to read parts of it
and said they found it fascinating. A few fragments, scenes
from childhood, were flung together and a Swedish publish-
er has decided to use it in an anthology of African writing
due to come out later this year. Keeping this journal has
given me a lot of fun ( sorry, I wasn't looking and the

29

bottom of the page slipped) besides keeping me in action from
a literary point of view. I wish I really was more of a writ-
ter than I am. Hell, there's such a lot of material available
to choose from and write about. One need never run out of
the necessary material. Looking at this "bundle" I don't know
whether it's a writer's note-book or an artist's note-book.
If I should ever amount to anything as an artist then I think
it would provide a good background to "the art of Peter Clarke".
But if I don't ever amount to anything at all, I might just be
remembered for the journals.

"What happens to Life's character actors, the ones who are on-
ly bit players, those who come in from the wings and are seen
for a short space of minutes or seconds before they disappear
again? The one-legged violinist in Queen Victoria Street who
plays his violin like a fraud, the white-apronned plodding old
woman who lugs the sack on her back, the bearded hobo who looks
like the Wndering Jew or a modern-day John the Baptist just re-
turned after eating locusts and honey for several months in the
desert, the stitched-up old man who looks like a late 19th. cen-
tury misplaced English country squire, the bare-footed grey-
haired woman who wanders aimlessly through the city? What hap-
pens to them all, why are they like that, where do they all go?

One can surmise all kinds of things about them and be wrong
everytime! They are so odd, so mysterious, that they really
keep one guessing."

And old prostitutes. . . don't they ever die? Or do they. like
old soldiers, only pass away?

... There is this challenge to do a lot of prints. . . in
black and white and in colour, and of a whole variety of sub-
jects. . . but particularly of people doing different things,
living, dying, suffering, rejoicing, playing, eating, sleeping,
drinking, working, loving, all the things that people do. . .

"I'm supposed to go to a funeral this afternoon", H. said.
"Here in Town?", I asked.

"Yes", H. said. "A chap who got killed. Just over the way from
where I live".

"Well. . . why don't you? Or don't you want to go?"

"Not particularly. But I'm thinking of all the booze they've got

30

in the house", H. said.

"Booze?", I said. "Are they going to serve it to the funeral guests?", I asked. "That is an ancient custom, you know".

"No. It wasn't meant for the funeral guests. The guy was going to get married on Saturday and they got all this booze in. Now he's got himself killed. . . and his girl-friend is seven months pregnant . . . and all that wine standing around there". He looked wistful. "Oh well", I said. "Perhaps they will serve it to the funeral-goers after all. They might even save some for you".

Winter, Cape Flats

Early morning after rain, the air sweetly fresh and cold as it enters the lungs, the cold making one's flesh tingle; mist partly obscures the landscape. The sun, a golden-red glowing ball, rises slowly, almost hesitantly, above the veils of mist shrouding the dune country, lighting up glistening dewdrop-sprinkled bushes and plants, reeds and grass.

Down the street came this group of little girls from their concert practise, hopping, posturing, legs crossing this way and that way, feet tapping each other this side and that side, very seriously engaged in grossly engrossed in the dance steps they had just learned, but in their seriousness of the hopping resembling nothing so much as a batch of scripppled ballerinas.

Well, those were some pieces from my journal. At least it's a variety. Some are only bits a few sentences in length and others go on over several pages. I write at random, when I have time. So often I don't write for weeks.

I was surprised to hear from Harmon Foundation that they were interested in seeing my work and getting information about me. Nice to feel that people are interested in one and in one's progress. So AN AFRICAN TREASURY is getting about. That's grand. I saw a few copies of the book in a bookshop window in Cape Town on Monday evening. Well, this is all for now. It's chow-time. Incidentally, we (James Matthews, Richard Rive and I and friends) often eat at Councilman Hoosain Parker's restaurant "NAAZ". They serve fine Indian dishes and I just love their curries.

Flat 19, Block 5, Waterfall Rd,
Simon's Town, C.P. SOUTH AFRICA.

Wed: 20th. June. 1962.

Dear Langston,

Just a few days before receiving the books from you, I had a letter from Alan Rake (of DRUM, Ghana). He was writing about stories for a book and wanted to know about illustrations and said that you had mentioned my name to him. Thanks for doing so.

Thanks a great deal for the Lorca books too. I was, at one time, intensely interested in him, when I came across the book "GARCIA LORCA" by Edwin Honig, some time back, in a small second-hand bookshop in Cape Town. I was absolutely enthralled and always looked for more books on his writing but without success. (It's the same with the Mexicans. We never see books on their art or theatre or poetry or literature or hear their music. Well, some months ago, someone got a record out of the library and on one side was a composition by Chavez. But, hell, I would like to hear a great deal more and read a great deal more). During the last few days I have been reading the Lorca plays. Actually, I have read these three plays before (once some actor-friend of mine had the book, too.

Have you any addresses of friends in Europe, particularly in Paris, Rome and the Netherlands that I can look up? It is my intention to leave for Europe at the end of August. Congress of Cultural Freedom (Paris) has awarded me a grant for studying in Europe for a year. I shall be concentrating on graphic art at the Rijks Akademie voor Beeldende Kunsten at Amsterdam. There is supposed to be a grant too from a Cape Town group but they are still dithering away as to whether I should get it or not. I felt and my friends and acquaintances felt that it was time I went overseas for a while. This is what I wanted to do ages ago. So now I'm quite happy that it's possible at last. I need the technical knowledge. I haven't quite worked out all of my plans yet but I'm optimistic about everything working out alright — even a passport.

Since you last wrote I have been busy. In fact I haven't had a proper vacation since 1960. Early in February I managed to go up country for a week. It was hot as hell, being the tail-end of the Summer, and the country was in the grip of drought. But I loved being in the country. It was a nice break, but really too short for me, I who like doing most things with enthusiasm, and that includes vacations. Possibly you have seen Zeke Mphahlele's book of short stories THE LIVING AND DEAD & OTHER STORIES with my illustrations. Recently I did a cover for a novelette by Cape Town writer Alex La Guma. Earlier this year I illustrated a collection of stories by my friend James Matthews. This book is being published in Sweden in August and I'm looking forward to seeing it. This book will be in Swedish, however, as it is meant for circulation in Sweden. I think James is looking for an English or American publisher now.

Recently I had two exhibitions in Cape Town. One was in the suburbs at an art centre for children and was a small show of graphic art. That was in late April. The other was in May at the Henri Lidchi Gallery in the city. I sold nine pictures and besides that four were going into a private collection in New York when the exhibition closed. These four were bought some time before the exhibition was hung by a man named David Lowe who is a producer for C.B.S.News in New York. He bought them while on a visit to South Africa earlier this year. He said he was keen on getting them into his collection because they were so striking. I've also had a number of small sales, mainly of graphic work. So I'm not at all displeased at the way things are going. Harmon Foundation bought a gouache painting and three linocuts. Did you perhaps see the exhibition of African Art that they arranged in New York? I'm exhibiting in Cape Town again at the end of July, this time just graphic art. Thanks for sending JET. American Coloured mags are never seen in S.A. unless they've been brought in by U.S. cargo seamen. That's why occasionally we get it. Must stop now. Write again some time.
Yours sincerely,
Peters