152 West 58th St.,

July 6th.

Dear Bunny:-

I think your article is fine now, but there are still a few minor inaccuracies. I would not say Mr. Ed was bored by the St. Louis Portland Cement Co. He enjoyed its organization and development but it was part of his temperament (which I have inherited) that once a project was organized he lost interest in it and thought the plodding aftermath not worth while.

All his business ventures were not a financial success. The "usury business" always succeeded as did the cement business. The Houston River Canal Co. only made money one year when they had a bumper rice crop, but it did develope the country. The ranch was what floored him: he poured money into it and its profits will some day be reaped by somebody else as we cant afford to hold it. Mind you he developed a whole section of virgin desert almost single handed--except for labor--when he was ill and unable to enjoy his customary pleasures.

The story of the suicide is as follows:

Henry Van Blarcom was rich. His best friend was Sam Bray. Bray was a waster who lived off Henry but they loved each other and both understood the relationship without ever thinking of money, work, or anything but their friendship. Henry was among other things president of a St. Louis bank. When Henry died he had lost most of his money but left $5000 to Sam--virtually all he had. While the $5000 was still intact, Sam went down to the bank and asked the cashier for one of the hundred dollar bank notes signed by Henry. They gave it to him without question as he was immensely popular. Then Sam framed the note and hung it in his room and lived modestly for two years on the $5000. As it dwindled he kept looking at the hundred. When it was gone

he broke the glass and went down to Molly Perry's house and spent
the money as Henry would have wished him to--on the girls and champ-
pagne. As he became drunk he gave the girls checks--thinking of the
times he had done it in the past, with Hwnry generously making them
good. Molly Perry understood and told the girls the checks were bad
but to give Sam a wonderful time, forseeing what was going to happen.
At six in the morning Sam went out to Forest Park and shot himself.

The dialogue on page 4A should go like this:

"Mista Charlie I hear the niggers is free, is that right?"

"Certainly." "Yes: that's right, Gadson."

"Then I'm free, too, aint I, mista Charlie. I hear a nigger is
free as soon as he's twenny one. I'm twenny one this week."

"All right, Gadson, sure you're free."

"Then, Mistah Charlie, you got to pay me wages, don't you?"

"All right, Gadson: I'll pay you five dollars a month."

"Thank you, Mistah Charlie, thank you."

"But remember you'll have to pay for your own clothes and buy
your own tobacco and 'tootsie'.

"Is that right, mista Charlie, do I got to do that?"

"Certainly, if you want to be free you got to pay for it."

"(Pause) Mistah Charlie--I guess I won't be twenny one till next
year."

However the way you have it is all right.

I do think you should reproduce the end of the Lot's wife
story accurately as it is an example of his instinctive ear for
the cadence of a speech.

"And history tells us--that you can be ridin' along that road
to-day--on your horse--and you'll see by the roadside the remains of
that there pillar of salt. But I can hardly believe that brethren--
because it looks to me like the rains an the cattle woulda licked er

away before now! "

Also I think the remark about the stallion is better as he tells it: "Hey Ed, I just got a fine new black stallion over in the barn. And you know what I've named him? I named him Ed Paramore."

The only other suggestion I would make would be to convey some idea of the artistry of his stories--the cadence of the language, even in vernacular--which was absolutely instinctive, unstudied, and natural. The same is true of his dramatic sense. He never knew a thing about technique and was entirely unconscious of the process by which he obtained those extraordinary effects of pathos, joyous cynicism, sad and generous humor, that authentic flavor of humanity which to my mind is more full-blooded and vital than Sherwood Anderson.

Most of them I know by heart.

I am leaving for Detroit to-morrow as the show is opening
Monday night. Everybody seems to think it is good but you can't tell.
Abbott has done a marvelous job on it and Gene Buck is an ideal
producer so far, letting you alone and not kicking on anything.
I shall remain there two weeks and then come back to New York.
Mother is coming to the opening on her way to Europe. Someday I'll
tell you about Mr. Ed's love affair with mother--the only one he
ever had, and how he tried for forty years to win her and never
could. How much his attentions to her were chivalry I don't know, but
I think his failure to win her was the major frustration of his life.

I shall stay at the Detroit Athletic Club if you want to
write me.

As ever,

455 East 57th St.,
New York City.

Oct. 18th

Dear Bunny*-

You could have knocked me down with a cloud of halitosis when I got your letter saying you were on your way to Santa Barbara, but for the advance rumor I got the day previous from Dorothy Parker.

Dorothy says you want to get away from it all, and since you have chosen Santa Barbara, no doubt into it all again. By the way she is supposed to have told the editor of the *New Yorker* that her copy would not be in this week because " she was too fucking busy and vice versa". She is also going to California and may be reached at the Metro-Goldwyn Studios at Culver City, Calif., or Coffee Dan's after midnight.

I suppose you have heard that "Ringside" was a very successful flop and closed after five weeks, and I am once more a victim of Hoover's god damned prosperity. If I only had the money I would like to join you on the Miramar beach. I know the house well and it is ideal for your purpose, in fact any purpose.

I never got to Coney Island as Toody did not go away and the production of my play was forced two weeks in advance of schedule. I still have the "scrip" on two yards worth of rooming space but my zest is gone.

There are no instructions or warnings I can give you about Santa Barbara that you don't already know. I understand the Kobra of Kamp Kuddle, Mrs. Gates, nee Bartolff, has landed on her feet and grabbed off another meal ticket. Maggie has gone to Europe so there is nobody I can recommend as a playmate except the Neustadts whose amusing household will remind you of a Russian novel, and Adelaide Walker who is really worth knowing.

PARAMOUNT FAMOUS LASKY CORPORATION

Paramount

Pictutes

WEST COAST STUDIOS

5451 MARATHON STREET

HOLLYWOOD

CALIFORNIA

March 14, 1930

Dear Bunny:

Your letter confessing a perverted pleasure
in the shenanigans of the illegitimate daughter of "The
Man in the Dirty Dressing Gown" and Donald's lesbian
consort reminds me that this old prisoner of Chillon is
about to do a nose-dive out of his cell and swim eastward,
having nearly completed his sentence in Hollywood for writing
some bad plays, I am looking forward to a parole of about
four months which I hope to spend abroad. I will probably
leave here around the first of July and spend a week or so
in New York before sailing. If by chance I am your "wedding
guest" I will fix you with a glittering eye and unload a
bassoon full of belly laughs, which have accumulated for
many months.

I should have written you about your book, which
dereliction I can only alibi by admitting that I am a dirty
bastard. I think parts of it are magnificent -- particularly
the chapters about Professor Guass, but I felt a certain pro-
lixity in your latter manner, which I can only ascribe to your
subsisting too long at a stretch upon a diet of Proust and
grain alcohol. Florence is a grand character (I never knew
Millay) and I was amused at the way in which you made yourself
the hero of an incident or two in which I was the sucker.

I have been meaning to see Crofoly but have been
so busy grinding out tripe at the Studio that I have only
been in Santa Barbara once since Thanksgiving and even then
was called back the same night. I thought I saw him the
other night at a performance of "The Ring" which is dragging
its slow length across the stage of the Shrine Temple here
in Los Las, but he appeared to be asleep (if it was he) and
I never bother sleepers in no Temples-- see? "The Ring" is
played by the Dusselldorf-Landwehr -- Class of 1870 -- with
an orchestral accompaniment of Doodlesack Spielers. One of
my colleagues says he fears that they will jerk the show right

-2-

out of the house unless the management takes heoric measures
such as: Substituting Albertina Rasch girls for the Rhine
maidens and Singer's midgets for the Niedelungen dwarfs.
He also advocates Wotan lifting up that plush toga and
going into a little soft shoe before or after he puts
Brunhilde on the pan. A penny peep show for the lobby
called "Fun in a River Bottom" or "What Alberic Really
Saw" might bowl the muggs for a little extra change. I
heard one woman explain to her companion that Brunhile
was burned alive by her Uncle Wotan and that he gave her
a knock-out drop and put her at the foot of a tree because
that was the only really inflammable prop on the whole
damned mountain.

I hope my second coming will not impress you
as being just husk of what was once a man. A year in
Hollywood works like a griping necrosis upon ones soul and
the victim is unconscious of the imperceptible process of
decay. My best love to Maggie,

As ever yours,

PATRONS ARE REQUESTED TO FAVOR THE COMPANY BY CRITICISM AND SUGGESTION CONCERNING ITS SERVICE

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IS EXPECTED

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602 NORTH MAPLE DRIVE
BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA

October 18th,
1--9--3--4.

Edmund Wilson, Esq.
The New Republic Magazine,
221 West 23rd Street,
New York.

Dear Bunny:

I expect to leave tomorrow night for New York and Washington with a portfolio full of variegated skullduggury, arriving at the Yale Club on or about October 25th.

As I have one project on the fire concerning which I need your advice, counsel and participation, will you drop me a note at the Yale Club telling me your whereabouts and availability. I will get in touch with you as soon as I arrive.

I am also bringing a trunk full of gags and anecdotes that should give you at least one evening of laughs.

FEP-F

YALE CLUB

VANDERBILT AVENUE & 44TH STREET
NEW YORK CITY

Monday, Nov 5th

Dear Bunny:--

I found your letter waiting for me here when I got
back from Washington. I'm sorry you're not coming before
Thanksgiving but as I have to go to Boston as soon as I finish up with
Washington (where I have to return for a week) I will certainly
spend a night or two with you. I am East on the most fantastic
mission you ever heard about--but it is too complicated to expalin
in a letter. I have to break down eight censor boards (one of them in
Boston) through pressure from the Government the Catholics and the
Jews, but the modus operandi is a scream. Secondly I am here to organize
a picture company to produce in England. Our first story is a story of
modern Russia and I am trying to get the permission of the Russians to
shoot part of it on Russian soil. As Troyanovsky is on his way to
Moscow I will have to deal with the charge d'affaires. I am meeting the
Amtorg head, Rosenberg, this afternoon. It is on this project that I
was hoping to get you a job. It is still in the pipe dream stage, how-
ever, but I will know whether it is no dice before I leave again for
the Coast. I expect to be here at least three week<sub>s</sub> more.

I located Florence through Bill Smith. She is working at
the T.W. Grant store under the name of Horgan, the current boy friend.
I will see her as soon as I get time. I didn't know she and Leeson had
split.

Talked to Fitz over the phone in Baltimore and am going to spend a
couple of days with him when I hit the Baltimore censor board.

My mailing address will be Yale Club or Shoreham Hotel, Washington.

As Ever,

Sept. 21, 1936

Mr. Edmund Wilson,
c/o New Republic Magazine,
New York City, N. Y.

Dear Bunny:

I expect to arrive in New York about October 4 and sail for England on the Aquitania October 14. I am most anxious to see you, so please drop me a line at the Chateau Marmont, 8221 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood, telling me where I can reach you between those dates.

As you may have heard, I have been on the black list in Hollywood for the past five months and have decided to scram and go to Europe. The inside story of the fight out here is very interesting, particularly the Jewish aspects of the situation. In the scrap between the writers and the producers, the producers were all Fascist Jews, (for every dollar they give for the relief of their persecuted relatives in Germany they give another dollar or two to Fascist organizations in America). While seven out of the fifteen leaders of the Screen Writers Guild were also Jewish, every single stool pigeon and traitor in the Writers' organization was an Irishman! As Jimmy Cagney said: "You can always find a <u>Irishman</u> to do a Jew's dirty work." Just to make it a little more screwy, Fascist Jews who are in favor of hanging all Socialist or Communist Jews, whether in Germany or America, are meeting in Hollywood every week or so with Jewish radicals and Catholics under the banner of the Anti-Nazi League of Hollywood!

Having read the outcry of the Masses against your Russian articles in New Republic, I was infected with their misgivings, but upon reading your book, where the continuity of your impressions makes your position more understandable, I feel that you are right and they are wrong. I find the intransigent orthodoxy of Marxists pretty trying and I thought your book was a swell job honestly done.

If you know where I can get hold of Jack Lawson please send me his address. There are some new developments in the Labor movement in California, brought to a head by the actors' active support of the lettuce strike in Salinas, which convinces me that it would be a mistake for the Authors' League to abandon the Hollywood field entirely

Edmund Wilson - Page 2.

at this time. While I have now no confidence in the
stamina of overpaid and undergutted writers, they might
have some starch injected into them if the Authors'
League affiliated with the A. F. of L.

From now on I am reluctant to join any organization that
doesn't have behind it those regular Union boys with their
ax handles, monkey wrenches, and their raw potatoes filled
with razor blades. Much as writers are afraid of losing
their swimming pools and yachts, they are also scared to
death of George Brown's babies clouting them over the
konk every morning when they step out of those stucco
Moorish castles into their Packard town cars. At any rate,
if the Authors' League abandons its Western office, writers
will be forced into the Screen Playwrights scab organiza-
tion because they will have no other haven to turn to.
In a jurisdictional dispute, under the terms of the Wagner
Law, we would still represent the writers of Hollywood by
a three to one majority.

But to hell with all this. Set a date when I can see you
and I think I can hand you a lot of laughs. I could do
with a few laughs now - even vicariously.

As ever,

EEP:rr

2073 Coldwater Canyon,
Beverly Hills, Calif.

June 2, 1941.

Dear Bunny:-

I shall be glad to check up on the accuracy of
the labor situation in Scott's unfinished novel, and will mail
you my findings as soon as possible after I receive the manuscript
from Scribners'. Are you going to finish the novel? There has been
some rumor out here that Budd Schulberg was going to do it. His
book, incidentally, I consider one of the landmarks of literature
on Hollywood.

I am currently in a bad slump but hope to pull out of
it before the summer is over. Last October I had two operations
on my throat and since then the butchers and x-ray boys have tried
to pin a duodenal ulcer and a haywire gall bladder on me, but there
is plenty of dissenting opinion, so I am standing pat and refusing
to be cut open on either charge. The worst of it is that I have
temporarily (I hope) lost the power to write and have been out of
studio work for eight months. But now I feel great and am pretty
sure my health is okay. I have thought all along that it was just a
slice of Hollywood neurosis though I have been unable to afford
a psychiatrist to convince me. Besides there aren't any hereabouts
who have much standing in the profession. I have two plays and
four movie stories in various stages of completion but my creative
energy seems to suffer some sort of emotional block which I am sure
is neurotic but very difficult to overcome. If you have had experience
with these sterile periods, doctor, I would appreciate your advice.

I won't be able to get past until I can get hold of
some dough... few weeks of that golden Hollywood counterfeit
would do the trick, but the fish ain't biting.

As ever,

June 30, 1941.

Dear Bunny:--

Scribners' sent me your synopsis of the unfinished part of Scott's novel about ten days ago and I was in the midst of replying when a new version arrived this morning, which served to clarify in my mind certain facets of Stahr's character and his relationship to Brady, Smith, Kathleen and Cecelia. In the light of your new synopsis Stahr's behavior seems more understandable and certainly bears a greaterversimilitude to the Hollywood scene. It is, however, still difficult for me to give an opinion about it that will be of much use to you since I have not read the first part of the novel.

In your letter to me you wanted to know about the labor situation in the year 1935, and about that I am more qualified to speak. Since Scott has postulated a Techniciand Guild (which has never existed in Hollywood) perhaps it would be well to sketch out for you the union set-up at that time:

In 1935 the only recognized unions in Hollywood were the technicians--cameramen, sound men, cutters, grips, gaffers, electricians, carpenters, truckmen, etc. I do not think they included crafts like set dressers, designers, make up artists or scenic artists, which formed independent unions that later became affiliated. These technicians were all grouped together under the banner of the IATSE, a crookedly led, racketeering AF of L union dominated by George Brown and his personal stooge, Willie Bioff. Both these men, as you know, are now under indictment for income tax evasion, bribery, extortion and kindred illicit pranks. They got excellent union conditions for their people as far as wages and hours were concerned, but the

rank and file had no democratic rights whatsoever and were rigidly
held in line by terrorism much as Westbrook Pegler has alleged.
There had been no elections for years and the whole Hollywood end
was run by the International office in Chicago through Bioff,
an appointed delegate.

In about 1938 there was a revolt of some of the technicians
against the dictatorship of Browne and Bioff, and the dissenting
group might be called a Technicians Guild, but it was ruthlessly
crushed by the IATSE machine.

It is perhaps important to note that Smith, a technician, would
never be fighting the producers because by 1935 the IATSE already
had their deal with the producers in the bag. He might be fighting
his own crooked leadership, but not the producers. From 1933 on the
whole union fight in Hollywood was concerned with the struggle of
the big talent guilds for recognition. In this struggle the IATSE
played a curious double game. They worked secretly with the producers
to sabotage the strength of the talent guilds by threatening to
take them over. For example, pretending to befriend the Actors
Browne and Bioff induced them to accept a much worse contract with
the producers than they would have got if they (the Actors) had
refused to listen to IATSE advice. The same tactics were tried
in the case of the Directors. In 1937-8-9 the writers were much more
afraid of being swallowed up by the IATSE than they were of being
smashed again by the producers. They figured they were better off
with no union at all than under the thumb of gangsters like
Browne and Bioff.

For this kind of adroit manipulation the IATSE dictators
received heavy dough, including the $100,000 check to Bioff which
figured so prominently in the Joe Schenke case.

Remember that the real union movement did not hit
Hollywood until 1936 when the Actors were recognized and the
first Screenwriters Guild was smashed by Thalberg who fostered
the Screen Playwrights company union. In the succeeding years
all employees in Hollywood were organized and recognized (by
virtue of the Wagner Act) without a strike of any importance.
Even the regenerated Screen Writers Guild was recognized two
weeks ago in a deal that unexpectedly won almost all their
demands.

With regard to Scott's story itself I do not find anything
that could not have happened in Hollywood. In the character of Stahr
Scott seems to have had several prototypes in mind: he has the
liberalism of Jesse Lasky, the demand for personal loyalty of
Thalberg, the degeneration through love trouble of Schulberg.
Brady is more like Zanuck, the last of the Hollywood tycoons.
And Zanuck is now slipping badly. The struggle between Brady and
Stahr for control of the company is suggestive of the same kind
of struggle between Thalberg and L.B. Mayer. At the time of the NRA
the IATSE had a plot to murder Mayer (told me by Judge Ben Lindsey);
but I doubt that Thalberg had anything to do with it or even knew
about it. An interesting case could be made that Mayer tried to
murder Thalberg by working him to death. It certainly is true that
Thalberg died as result of trying to keep managerial control of
his company when in ill health: he would not quit and surrender to
Mayer, in spite of all the warnings from his corps of doctors.

A word about wage cuts in Hollywood. The technicians have
never taken a cut since they were recognized. During the notorious
fifty per cent cut of 1933, the IATSE technicians were the only
groups able to resist the cut successfully because they were
strongly organized. The three big talent guilds came into

existence in 1933 as a result of this cut. The producers took the
cut along with the other employees (it only lasted eight weeks, but
their participating bonuses continued so that the big shots were
not out of pocket very much. In fact Mayer's bonus during the eight
weeks amounted to $80,000. No group was cut en masse after 1933
(except helpless workers such as stenographers, waitresses, janitors,
etc., though there has been a gradual down trend of salaries among
writers and directors. Another general pay cut would have certainly
resulted in a strike by writers and directors, so salaries were
scaled down piecemeal in certain income brackets. Thus, among writers,
the top writers tended to get more, but the middle and lower brackets
got less, so that the general average of writers' pay fell about
25 per cent in the last three years.

Perhaps I could be of more help to you if you were to ask me
some specific questions about Hollywood. Or at least let me see a
draft of the unfinished part of the novel when you have got it
ready. I thought your piece on Goldwyn displayed some pretty glaring
ignorance of the Hollywood situation, mainly because your information
was so out of date. For example Schulberg fell from power in 1933
and has been on the skids ever since. When the tycoons fall they
always manage to get jobs that give them a good living, but their
power in the industry is never recaptured. Their sinecures (usually
associate producerships, are given them because they are alle
Yiddishe kinder zuzamen.

I have an appointment to see the great Goldwyn this after-
noon to work on a turkey he bought in a moment of mistaken enthusi-
asm. I expect to get nothing out of it but a few laughs.

As ever,

Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corporation

STUDIOS
BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA

July 3, 1942

Dear Bunny:

I wrote you a letter on June third which I promptly filed away in my desk and forgot. My mother tells me I used to do this quite often when I was young, and I apologize for the unaccountable reversion to childhood.

I have searched all through my files for Scott's letters but can't find them. My correspondence with him occurred in 1937 and the letters were no doubt placed in storage when my mother gave up the house in Santa Barbara. I feel sure that the letter you have about Joe Mankiewicz is the same as mine. I know he had copies made.

I hadn't heard that Mr. Rolfe was dead. I last saw him at the Hill School - where I sat next to him at luncheon. He was then eighty years old and told me that the doctors had said he was in perfect health except for low blood pressure. I told him to drink burgundy or bourbon and he said that I seemed to speak with authority and experience. He said grace, and when I told him it was a *new* grace, he said he'd be glad to sound the buzzer again and deliver the old grace for dessert.

I also saw Mrs. John, who told me she had had a stroke and that I wouldn't see her again. That was four years ago, and I received my New Year's calendar from her signed in her own handwriting, so I assume she is still alive. John Lester retired to live in some town near Chestnut Hill. Lavertu, who told me about him, was due to retire the following year. Sheppy, so far as I know, is retired but still living. I suppose any information you want you could get from Isaac Thomas or Chris Kogel who are still teaching there. Or don't you remember them?

Mary's book is swell, and has stirred up quite a controversy out here. In fact, just now I think it is the most discussed book in town. The Stalinists, of course, are against it, and I have heard some interesting comment on it from psychiatrists.... A very formidable woman you're married to, Doctor Wilson.

P.S. I saw in a trade paper that RKO had bought the title of Mary's book and taken an option on the story. Would she be insulted by an offer to come out here and work on the script? I know the producer, David Hempstead, and could put in a plug if Mary thought it was worth the laughs and the incidental gravy.

EDWARD E. PARAMORE, JR.

2073 COLOWATER CANYON
BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA

December 18, 1942

Mr. Edmund Wilson
Wellfleet, Mass.

Dear Bunny:

I was sorry not to see you while I was in the East, but
as I told Mary, we had our reservations for the 10th
and travel is now so difficult that it would have been
impossible to change.

I had been telephoning all over town - including Red
Bank - trying to locate you and/or Mary and you can
imagine my surprise when I found her on the train going
to New Haven.

If Mary is ever decoyed by any soft blandishments from
the movies, we have room for you both in Coldwater
Canyon where I have a studio which doubles as a guest
house.

I have applied for service both in the State Department
and the O.W.I. foreign service, but do not think much
will come of it. It is probably all a combination of
guilty conscience, wish-fulfillment and pure fantasy.
The government might accept me because of my having been
in the Embassy at Petrograd, but I am afraid I would
still be persona non grata to Uncle Joe whose boys, if
they are as thorough as they are supposed to be, can-
not be ignorant of my Trotskyist sympathies. Wouldn't
it be a lovely hunk of irony to find myself lined up
against the wall in the basement of the Lubianka Prison?

As ever yours,

EDWARD E. PARAMORE, JR.

2073 COLDWATER CANYON
BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA

August 18th.

Dear Bunny:-

I expect to be coming to New York the middle of September to get a play I have written produced on Broadway, and I don't want to miss seeing you and Mary this time. I suppose you are still on the Cape but will send this in care of the New Yorker on the chance that you may have to be in town to supervise your department instead of conducting it from Provincetown.

I would send you a copy of the play but since most of the copies are making the rounds of local kibitzers in one way or another I might as well wait until I see you. I will only try to whet your curiosity by saying that the play is sort of like Paradise Lost, only it is about hillbillies and is eighty per cent a comedy--I hope.

Best to Mary. And drop me a card telling where and the hell you are.

Yours,
Ted

P.S. It may gratify you to know that I have been thumbing my nose at picture jobs ever since last January, and have been working only on two plays and some magazine articles. It's a wonderful feeling, getting away from those whore houses. Just six months of refusing to be decoyed by the blandishments of the Madames has put such adrenalin into my morale that maybe I'll get respectably married unless my syphilis has become too tertiary to make me an eligible prospect.

EDWARD E. PARAMORE
1473 NORTH HAVENHURST DRIVE
HOLLYWOOD 46, CALIFORNIA

Oct.31st, 1949.

Dear Bunny:-

Your letter of October 15th was forwarded to me
from the Yale Club and through various interim hide-outs so that
it only arrived the day before the wire from you and the Sayres.

From Joel and Gertrude you have no doubt got an
answer to your question of what has happened to me since I saw you
last. From October, 1946 until March 1947 I had a lovely and ex-
cruciating final war with the Sauce and Scamper Juice culminating
in a recovery so complete that I can hardly believe it. On the way
I had my gall blad der sawed out, some internal plumbing re-
routed, a few nicks on my liver reupholstered, and a duodenal ulcer so
nicely scarred over that it will now take aqua regia to achieve
a perforation. To say nothing of being separated and finally divorced
by Felice. From March 1947 to May 1948 I took an excursion through
the Purgatory of as pretty a Depression as you ever saw, and then
I suddenly took off like a jet plane into a manic streak that has
lasted ever since. I haven't been as full of health and energy
nor as pleased with life since I was in college.

Anichka and I have taken a beautiful apartment with a badminton
court and swimming pool attached, frozen by rent control at the
ridiculous rate of $120 a month. As soon as we get some money we
intend to come East--New York for a couple of weeks and then motor
back via Florida, Arkansas, Louisiana, Arkansas and Texas where my
brother and I have some oil lands that the big drilling companies
are getting closer to every day. I have three full shooting scripts
on the market and we plan to start when and if one of them sells.

One script sale or about ten weeks work in the studios will give us enough money to last a couple of years and then I am going to have at two plays that have been germinating in my system for a long time. If things should break that way I would only take one job or do one script a year for the movies and spend the rest of the time on going about My Father's business. And if I don't sell anything to the movies I will do the same thing anyhow.

Felice has been in Europe for the past year and expects to return for Christmas and to be here for the birth of Pat's first child which is due the first week in January. Teddy is now a junior at UCLA and lives at his fraternity house. All last year he lived with Anichka and me and has gradually emerged from his maladjustment which was once close to actual delinquency into a very decent and interesting boy. For which I credit Anichka mostly.

I tried to get in touch with Alexander Barmine when you wrote me a couple of years ago but with no success. Your clipping on the price of the first edition of Yukon Jake is as astonishing to me as its popular success was in the first place. I still get semi-annual royalties from Coward and McCann plus several fifty buck fees for magazine or book reprints. I have a project under way to make a musical extravaganza out of it for George Abbott or a vehicle for Danny Kaye.

Let me hear from you again. What is your New York address?

As ever,

Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Frenke
announce the marriage of their daughter

Anna Chernoff
to

Mr. Edward Everett Paramore
on Sunday, the sixteenth of October

Nineteen hundred and forty-nine
Santa Monica, California

EDWARD E. PARAMORE

Dec. 31st, 1950

Dear Bunny:--

Many thanks for "Wilson's Reliques". I couldn't spot the joke of mine you mentioned, but dug up an old parody out of the files which I had written for Vanity Fair circa 1922 which you and Elinor Wylie were both in favor of publishing but which Crownie vetoed as being too scurrilous and esoteric. It has something akin to the spirit and delivery of your "Mass in the Parking Lot". Do you remember it?

You are the only person I wanted to see and missed seeing on our fabulous 9000 mile ja'nt by rail and motor through 24 states, including the New South. As a clinical observation on the new science of geriatrics, four out of the six most interesting people we met were John Lester(75), Lavertu (76), Prof. Albert G. Keller(75) and Mrs. Daniel Avery, queen mother of Avery's Island, Louisiana(82). Not a trace of senility in mind or spirit. The other two were a high yella waiter in Natchez, a landscape painter by avocation and the grand nephew of one of the dessicated old harridans who owns one of sixteen "Ante-Bellum Mansions" still standing in Natchez, and Marie Adams(52), Madame of the best whorehouse in New Orleans. Old Billy Moody, Galveston tycoon, who admits to 85 but is really 88 (curious vanity) and is the last living intimate friend of my father(who would now be 90) couldn't quite make the first six because he never had it in the first place.

Anichka and I are now reading your "Classics and Commercials" which are good as hell. Of course you are still nuts on the subject of detective stories(just a critical glaucoma due to lack of discrimination) but I'm glad you omitted all those errors

EDWARD E. PARAMORE

1473 NORTH HAVENHURST DRIVE

HOLLYWOOD 46, CALIFORNIA

about Hollywood(such as the Goldwyn piece and the poem entitled "The Beverly Hills") which you claim were due to information you got from me. Instead of being due to the same kind of time lag that makes Communists talk about Wall Street and J.P.Morgan as if American capitalism were still operating as it did in the days of Mark Hanna. I also have an apology to make to the benighted South, revisited after a time lag of 38 years. Trouble with writers is they don't get "out in the field" enough. We enjoyed our trip so much we are planning another about next May.

So, Stalin willing, stand upon my Second Coming.

As ever,

EDWARD E. PARAMORE
44 BUENA VISTA
SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA

YULETIDE RÉPOSTE

(Being a Selection of Doggerel that Suddenly Appeared on
an Old Cuff by Spontaneous Combustion.)

Antidote

On Yuletide morn a storm is born
To Californians shocking;

But I'll assuage their native rage
With Wilson's Christmas Stocking.

Quatrain for Malthus

Just turn the knob of Wilson's door,
Then stand aside and cower,

While children fathered by this man
Stream out for half an hour.

Tar Baby Won't Say Nothin'

I guess I haven't got a prayer
Of ever hearing from Joel Sayre.

He'll write for pay, the jocund scamp,
But suffers sore from writer's cramp

If called upon to pen a letter,
Just stricken mumchance with the tetter.

Re Dostoevsky's Bastard Brat

Now Donald Douglas won't spend any
Of his dough, not a single penny

For the drinks he guzzles down
With you as long as you're in town.

He'll plant his ass on the best chair
(Sit on the floor, my pretty pair,
And don't think he'll ever care.)

The prototype of Burgess' Goop,
To gaucheries like this don't stoop.

Reply to a Purist

Too late, too late to titivate
For Christmas approbation.

The chimes won't wait to titilate
By tintinabulation.

To Bunny, Elena and Progeny

Now burns the Yule's eclectic log,
For some a light to pierce the fog

That chokes the throat of human vanity:

A flame perforce of exquisite urbanity.

For some it's just a huckster's racket
To sell junk in beribboned packet

To suckers for a stale convention
Or other things that I could mention.

But whether symbol, rite or fraud
By custom urged in forced adoption,
We've dealer's choice to vote, by Gawd,
And exercise our local option.

Detroit Athletic Club

Wednesday, July 11

Dear Bunny:-

I gave the article to mother when I put her on the train for New York. Call her up at my apartment. She is staying with Toody.

She told me one thing which you might include: When Henry James came to St. Louis 25 years ago he was put up at the old St. Louis Club and his hosts asked him what he wanted to see. He said "I want to see the Eads Bridge and I want to meet Ed Paramore".

"Ringside" is a wow in Detroit.

Hastily,

EDWARD E. PARAMORE

33 FIFTH AVE.

NEW YORK 3, N. Y.

June 28, 1955

Dear Bunny:-

Anichka and I are leaving on a motor trip to Canada starting July 10th and will go via Boston and the coast of Maine which she wants to see.

Since our route takes us past the Cape we will make a detour to call on the Sage of Wellfleet and Notorious Latter Day Antichrist. So be warned to go into hiding with your lovely wife and 27 children lest you be visited with the wrath of a devout Christian and his Jewish wife.

I was sorry to hear of your series of mishaps and accidents before you left New York but blasphemers must expect some retribution from a righteous Lord.

I too have experienced some plagues and disasters but through prayer and faith have marvelously survived. Now I know I was just being tested like Job.

A bientot,

1612 Vista del Mar St.,
Jan. 15th.

Hollywood.Calif.

Dear Don:-

I am sending you a copy of a letter I wrote to Bunny since
it is really written to both of you, a preliminary report on the
shenanigans being perpetrated in this great lousileum 'neath skies
of Lapis Lousuli. Let me have your dispatches from the Eastern front.

How about renewing our Olympic Games? Great endurance contest, January first to June first, the winner of the most points to throw a KIMAX giant R.F. and tosspots panic in any dive or locality nominated by the winner. The maker of points to be the judge of his own literary output, subject to negotiations with the other party in case of disagreement, as last year. Half a point for short reviews, point for long reviews, five points for article (feature) in newspaper, seven points for Vanity Fair, etc. etc. depending on the quality of the work and the character of the magazine in which it is published. Anything written after Jan. first to count and anything accepted before the first of June to count. It is now Jan. 15th and my total is zero so you have no doubt a fine flying start.

I eagerly await the news of Beatrice's nuptials. Sorry I was grub-stake, and couldn't get there.

Margaret has left the old man and gone to San Francisco
to get her freedom. She has taken an apartment with another girl, but I
am skeptical as to the outcome. After so many cries of wolf, wolf, I
am letting the damned sheep graze. I will write you the details of the
campaign at a later date. It has been a miracle that it has not already
ended in tragedy: three attempts (bogus I believe) at suicide, several
more beatings up, and a free for all, knock down and drag out between
the two males (both drunk) narrowly averted by the quick action of

WESTERN
UNION

1204

<table><thead><tr><th>SYMBOLS</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>DL = Day Letter</td></tr><tr><td>NT = Overnight Telegram</td></tr><tr><td>LC = Deferred Cable</td></tr><tr><td>NLT = Cable Night Letter</td></tr><tr><td>Ship Radiogram</td></tr></tbody></table>

A N. WILLIAMS
PRESIDENT

NEWCOMB CARLTON
CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD

J. C. WILLEVER
FIRST VICE-PRESIDENT

The filing time shown in the date line on telegrams and day letters is STANDARD TIME at point of origin. Time of receipt is STANDARD TIME at point of destination

2 B 26 NT NEW YORK N Y 31

EDMUND WILSON WELLFLEET MASS

MANY THANKS FOR INVITATION BUT HELD HERE AT LEAST
WEEK BY CONFERENCES I WILL WIRE IF CAN COME CAPE LATER WHAT
PRICE THE PARTY LINE NOW

TED PARAMORE.

RO 8 35 A

THE COMPANY WILL APPRECIATE SUGGESTIONS FROM ITS PATRONS CONCERNING ITS SERVICE