NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN·CONN

16 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

Having by dint of great concentration finished reading the eight
short stories written by the doctor--they were in some ways better than I thought,
and one or two might be possible to get published (not by me) -- I have indulged
myself by emulating you. That is, I have begun to go back to my filing cabinet
and throw away yesterday's dreams. This particular batch was of papers concerned
with the revision of the *Oxford Anthology* I began to do in 1958. It came to
nothing, for in the end I preferred to let the old edition die as a monument to
what seemed academically avant garde in the 1930's rather than continue with
the help of plastic surgery to ape the appearance of a debutante. One can be a
maiden only once. In any event page after page of painfully typed copies of poems
went into the waste-basket, though I saved whatever correspondence remained.

The day really did go to the short stories. At first I had thought to
stay on at the shore until after the moon astronauts had blasted off, but decided
instead to elevate myself in the gymnasium. The day has been uncomfortably hot,
but I turned on the air conditioner in my room (I rarely do) and have been glad
of it.

Tonight we have Mrs H and her husband at the shore for dinner, and
they are bringing Jay Leyda with them, so that we have a staff party as it were.
This might not be my very first choice for an evening, but must be done. After
the lesson of Australian mateyness I bowed low and she calls me by my first name.
Well, why not! Only I did once explain that I thought it better not to become
regular social neighbors. She understood and agreed.

Donald Gallup came after lunch and I turned over to him some goodies
I had stored up. Copies of Fenollosa's lectures in the 19th century at the
University of Tokyo, otherwise not available in this country (they had been given
me by the Japanese), some photographs of Cummings by his wife, a recording of
a book by and read by James Purdy which the publishing company had sent me, two
books by Blacks. And what I had brought down with me from the estate of Dudley
Fitts, some letters from Eliot Pound, Maugham etc. But Elinor Wylie's brassiere
I have offered to the Library of Congress for their collection of costumes, this
being one of those de-mammalizing garments from the 20's which made women flat-
chested. Very lovely silk, embroidered and in good condition though not perhaps
any longer wearable. The offer was rather in the way of a joke to Ripley. But
they do have a costume collection, especially of the wives of presidents (of the
U.S.), and Miss Wylie was Washington's best known poetical dame. There is a
book which collects, so the title says, "The Lays of Scottish Cavaliers". So
why not a memorial to the wife of an American Poet?

I got the brassiere when I was settling the estate of Wm Rose Benet.
Elior was his second wife, and absolutely adored by him though perhaps not recip-
rocally. Actually, ~~I am sure~~ Louis Untermeyer wrote a little poem which had an
underground reputation at one time:

Elior Wylie, Elinor Wylie
What have you got to say?
"I'd rather have Shelley
"To lie on my belly
"Than poor old Bill Benét!"

What was she going to do with it, Marjorie (Bill's fourth wife) asked, and so I
took the object from her and presented it to Dudley Fitts who admired Elinor in

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON
231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN, CONN

17 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

My chief accomplishment today seems to have been a haircut. I had been letting it grow almost hippy-length as a mild protest to still another price hike by the barbers, but the heat was on the barbers' side and I was vanquished.

Otherwise I have melted gradually in my room, thankful only that this was a half-day for the secretary and that after my masseur's boy had left, he was here for another discussion of his writing (this set was far worse than any before; yet one cannot laugh at him and does not want to) I could strip completely down and find the privacy of the suite a genuine privilege. Once someone rapped at the door and I hurried into shirt and trousers only have to have the invader withdraw before I reached the door. I will never know what I missed. Nor he! nor she!

Last night's visit from Mrs H, her husband, and Leyda went pleasantly. Indeed it was so warm in town that no one could be anything but grateful and relaxed by the sea. Susan cooked a salmon mousse, served cold, which made it easy for her and refreshing for us. This is well done and now out of the way. Mrs H leaves a week from tomorrow until August 25th.

Your letters of the 12th and 13th arrived today after yesterday's Sunday silence. I dare not quite risk Zurich but will take a stab today and tomorrow or so in care of the Sesame.

I was interested that Mrs L thinks as I do that these astronauts are a new breed. An interesting thing is that they are not young, being mostly in their late 30's and early 40's. Not that this is old age, but it is pleasant to think people can still learn after twenty, and that they represent the over-35's who are so generally felt to be out of it by the hippies. * The plane to New Haven? Say not more. Even with a twin engine it costs only forty dollars, and one can do it with a single engine for 20-odd. I will not be done out of my fun, and will charge it to the government as a business expense. As I could defend its being. * Venus will be pleased when I tell her of your continued thought. You suggest a "new position" for her. Actually she still likes to kneel for whatever she does or has done to her. The Victorian canopy might be fun, if it didn't make visitors think of a canopy bed and push her over on her back. We couldn't have *that*. You say "one could run to anything normal." But are you sure you want to? Venus was always unconventional. No, I think the nicest thing you could do for her is to put her *up* for the Sesame. I am sure a number of the dames would find her interesting; and think of the stories she could tell at the tea-table! I would, of course, insist that she go clad.

I shall look forward to 1941 when you can get it here. One will see that it is typed and in Helen's hands before your arrival. I have not heard book (I meant boo) from her in several weeks, and have no idea what was decided about the title.

How well I remember the launching of a rocket we saw in Churchill, and how proud I felt when the commandant succumbed to my blandishments of mutual rank in the past. I should like to have seen all this yesterday, but will wait for a newsreel or Sunday when the space ship puts down on the moon. One shudders

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

A great pleasure today when your letters of the 14th and 15th
attested, and with them the greater part of your second chapter. I should
expect that Mrs H can get this done easily next week before she goes, and
I can either myself type or get typed the bridging section if you should
send that later. I like this new version and its enlarged fullness of detail.
The trip to Bara is much enriched, and I am glad you brought in the matter
of Faith's return with you. Somehow I have gotten to feel that you can do
a missionary's work for her, for Edith and Osbert and for Hilda as the volume
goes on. Indeed, alas, this is almost a responsibility for no one but you
can say precisely what you know to say.

Delighted that Wipf's picture stands up. * The show on African art sounds splendid; I hope they had a good catalogue. Show it to Ines and stir her Catholic blood. She will be off to save the bucks for the Pope. * Yes, you are right to include the Maggs--this is after all a real part of you, and was inside your veins before I appeared on the scene. Besides, most of the books were whisked off to safe-keeping so I hardly knew what you had. I speak of myself only because some others might think I had seduced you in this direction, book collecting being the start of my interests. But you are a collector by instinct and almost sexual intensity.

Perdita's letter was a nice one as always. She is pleased that
air lift gives the possibility of longer with her, and now we know how to
manage things in the future for quick transits between Netherfield and New
Haven. Except in the dead of winter.

I spent most of the afternoon with Dr Selzer rather painstakingly
going over his stories and pointing out where he ends sentences weakly, has
faulty beginnings and the like. But of course I am neither a critic nor a
writer, and so can be little more than a so-called intelligent reader. He
seemed pleased at any event, and knew what I was saying. This morning I fin-
ished reading the poems of Mr Huang, the teacher of Chinese, who had given
me two ms volumes of poems in English by him, from which to choose the ones
to be submitted together as a book. Some were attractive.

I enclose a pleasant letter from Horace. I guess he must mean
that the editor of Rochester's poems comes from Southern Illinois; tho he got
his doctorate at Yale and Yale published the book I gave to Horace. Ergo I'm
not sure just what the surprise is, and dare not ask. I myself am not an Earl
of Rochester fan and find his sort of poetry much less interesting than Horace
does. But both Horace and Marya had thought they had discovered Rochester in
a Penguin anthology published a little while ago. I spoke of this edition
but they had not heard of it.

I was sorry they didn't like the interview about Hilda. I really
ought not to have given the xerox copy to him, for what I write seemed unsatisfactory to him for some time now. But I had nothing to take with me for them
when I went last -- I should have taken English tea biscuits (we must remember)--
and thought their interest in Hilda might carry the balance. Actually I hadn't
realised that I had given such emphasis to the interest of the younger generation of poets in her. I do hope he and Marya can write about Hilda once he
has finished his memoirs. It could be another of his discoveries. Well, one
does what one can and can't help being what one is, so the future may forgive
me.

I take Susan tonight to the theater to give her a night out
after two sets of guests in the midweek.

I see you have not told me you returned
vra Zurich, so do you not rich it there.
Instead, Kenwin.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

20 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

I became so involved yesterday in clearing my desk (I didn't succeed of course but it was a valiant try) that the afternoon was over before I could write you. Actually what took so long a time was a group of envelopes containing a correspondence from McLeod which McLeod had sent us and which I was trying to acknowledge and write to the original recipient of the letters and to the Library explaining all. I dared not stop until I had finished.

And I had reached the office only late, since on Friday night I drove Susan to East Haddam for a musical play at Goodspeed's Opera House in East Haddam. This is an attractive 19th century upstairs theater in the town hall that has been redone by restoration. You will not remember it but we saw it on the Connecticut River boat trip we took one autumn. We had an excellent dinner at an adjacent restored old hotel, and we might take a drive along the river, have lunch and then take a look at the Gillette Castle overlooking the river nearby, which I have never visited. The show, *Tom Piper* about an old N.E. fishing village and its drift to modernization was quite good. They might touch it up a bit and make a shot for New York with it.

I had had no confirmation, as requested, for your reservation at the Stanhope, but wrote again and this has now reached me. I will send on to you but at Kenwin. I dared not risk this to London, but since it says little I am write one or two to the Glock.

15 more volumes of *Chums* are being sent, so we are nearer a complete run for your Dusty Diamonds. The magazine runs until World War Two, which is far beyond the period of the books, but beginning the runs we might as well finish them.

Actually this morning I went first to Goodrich Street and finished cataloguing the Jackson-Henty volumes. Now I can put the additions to what we already had, on the shelf; and try to have all in readiness for your arrival. Most of what I listed today were later volumes or duplicates.

Your letters of the 16th and 17th came yesterday. I always bow my head in your father's memory. I have a great admiration for him. We would not always have agreed but agreement is not the basis for admiration.

I find it completely extraordinary that an art trip to Spain did not go to Madrid and the Prado (as well as Toledo). Are you sure she didn't join them after the trip had been in Madrid? There are really no pictures much of anywhere else in Spain--for those in Madrid really come not because of the Spanish but the Hapsburghs. * Nice that Philip is in such good spirits. As the creator of a chateau I see spreading his wings and crowing. * Sorry about Rosemary, and will be eager for details, but are you really surprised? Or is this surgery rather than sexuality!

This afternoon and tonight I shall probably keep close to the t.v., and catch the live broadcasts from the moon. I should like to see the landing and the first steps. What a fantasy all this still seems. And what an individual tragedy it may still be. I hope you are in London soon enough to take advantage of the Sesame's telly.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

The sight of the telecast of the astronaut backing out of the capsule and then oh so slowly down the ladder and his first step on the moon was quite unbelievable. Even I was quite caught up in Science fiction paled before science fact and human fact. I liked it that the controls were taken over at the last moment by an astronaut. I liked it that people all over the world could see and share, and I liked Americans because they wanted things to be that way rather than secretive like the Russians with their sudden L-15. I don't take it all in, I can't quite know what it is I know. But perhaps in fact the hearts of the young can be lifted by the possibilities of all this, far above and beyond the Vietnams and the urban crises which press in on them. I watched the blastoff from the moon just after lunch. I hope by now, late in the afternoon, that the linkage has taken place.

Did you see it, I wonder? See a re-play anyhow, if you can.

Yesterday evening I spoke to Horace on the phone. No, yesterday morning when I came to the office. He was deep in his memoirs, the weather being disheartening as it has been for almost two weeks now, and as it is today. Will there never be sun or warmth? I have to lose myself in my memoirs, he said; then I forget everything, weather and all. Patrick is to be married on August 2nd, with neither set of parents present. Horace says it is because Patrick does not like all the ritual of weddings, which may well be true; certainly many young people feel that way. But I wonder too if it is not partly out of deference to Horace who could not go to Vermont for even the simplest of weddings. Now he will miss nothing. The wedding has been advanced so that they can have a little trip presumably and move to a new apartment on September 1st. Patrick is to buy a car (he wouldn't he told me, partly because he didn't want to make it too easy to get to Palisades; now, married, he won't be expected to come so often). All in other words seems to go well. I am not quite sure what I should give him as a gift.

Your second letter of the 17th came this morning, although really there was no today's postal service--the President having given postmen a holiday of "participation." Yours would have been sorted Saturday and delivered today by the university postal service. How I envy you the heat wave. * No, you must keep your sleeping bag. I did not give them mine. I save it for the arctic. * Justus stayed up to watch the "first step" last night; he is mechanical and understands far more than I do. The tent has become his moon.

Life is complicated. As we watched last night at telly, the police phoned to say someone had smashed off the outside water spigot beneath the kitchen window at Goodrich Street, that the kitchen and cellar were flooded. A patrol police car had seen the water geysering up, phoned the protection company who came with a key, and they had finally had to shut off all water in the house. Apparently a woman staying next door for the summer (where they went to phone) had mopped up the water as it was about to reach rugs in the dining room and halls. But how lucky that the policeman saw it. I went this morning and Susan later, though we have not been able to get a plumber. The vandals (rather than thieves, I think) had tried to smash the spigot on the opposite side of the house, also with stones (the spiggots give the supply for watering the garden beds and the automatic watering of the lawns) but had not

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN, CONN.

22 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

The weather remains quite impossible. No sun for almost three weeks, and a coldish drizzle from God's nasel drip. Tempers are short. People glare at each other. I have postponed the cookout for the Japanese and their children tomorrow afternoon, for no one takes pleasure in sitting on wet sand in the rain. We try again next Monday.

But everything is of course muggy so I have had the air conditioner on and shivered all the more but remained dry. I dutifully took a shower, one of the editors of Jonathan Edwards (he has been working on his share for the past ten years and held all others up) (I am only on the editorial board, not an editor) and listened to him talk. I wonder he gets any food in, so many words come out. And I have tried the doctrine of good works otherwise by keeping on with my dictation. I begin to see one end, that of the letters overdue since 1967. Perhaps I will eventually do better than that.

Rather pleasanter has been going through my current files of the American Studies Association, saving what I might need for reference to my year as president and throwing the rest away. Later I separated my correspondence with the Danish National Museum from general material on Brattahlid, for tomorrow some one is coming up from CBS to talk about the possibility of their doing a picture (t.v.) of the dedication next year. Not much I can tell them about it, but perhaps I can say something about Greenland.

A royalty statement has come in for your paperback (Roman Wall) with Pantheon. It sold 125 copies in the six months ending in March, and the check was for $17.40 which I will deposit in the account.

Your letters from the Glock, of the 18th and 19th came today there having been no post yesterday. What a shame that Grieder changes too, but you have stocked me so well my heirs will benefit from my ties. You really have been wonderfully generous and I have become known as a Grieder man. * I am really keen about the possibility of your going out to see Grace in the Union; she would be excited and feel she had a chance to repay some of your kindness. You would have the advantage of a guide and the chance to see a few locals one would not ordinarily contact. And of course Mary Renault. * For Susan? I will ask but honestly she needs little and I doubt wants to buy any more orchids until after our return from Japan. You might give her something to deposit against that, and I know she always likes a help towards a bib or tucker.

Pat's letter is interesting and I am glad to see *At a freeery* tone than in those he usually writes you--somehow more direct and less literary. His drawing away, as he calls it, was obviously a defense. I can see he needs a girl younger than himself in order to hold his own, and yet this one sounds as though she could hold her own. If we go to Boston to see Sachs matters we can arrange for you to have a dinner alone with them. I can go on the town and meet you for a report later.

Back through the chill to the shore.

All love,

A. J. NORMAN

Better bring the Stanhope letter
in case of a misunderstanding.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

23 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

They say it can't but it does. Rain I mean; continue to rain I
mean even more strongly. Fortunately I postponed the picnic for the Japanese.
We could only have played goldfish in a swamp.

Spirits are so down that the corners of one's mouth will have to
turn up, not having anywhere else to extend, already touching the ground. I
telephoned Susan knowing that her desk would seem dreary after so many days at
it, and asked her if she would like to ask her sister and brother-in-law to come
in town to Mory's. She seemed pleased and so I will meet them there at 6:30.

This noon I took the CBS man and his wife to lunch, but they really
didn't have any mission. Though an earlier request I had carefully fetched
all the pamphlets and pictures from Goodrich Street he had wanted to see, and
even arranged to have the slides shown (if needed) at the Audio-Visual Center.
Not needed, and since I soon found the young man had no expense account and the
only available restaurant was expensive I picked up the tab.

Your letter from the Glock, as of the 19th, came today. Your
luncheon with Joan sounded gala, and it was fun for her to have "family", so
to speak, there. I'm glad the Kronenhalle changes less than Grieder. It will
give you a sense of stability. The anorak sounded fun but more suited to ice
beard than giraffes.

Painfully little to write. Mrs H starts her holiday after to-
morrow. She much appreciated your letter to her. Susan says, nothing; just
bring yourself.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

Mrs H has left for her holiday, so I shall be leading a
solitary life for a time. But I pretty well caught up on correspond-
ence, and apart from a score to be written to Australia, which are
better typed by me anyhow, I hope to be able to keep up with the daily
intake.

The sun was out briefly this morning but having taken
fright has retreated behind the clouds again, though so far it has not
rained. We are not the only cloudy area however, for I crept to the
television this noon to watch the splashdown and because of the clouds
on the Pacific couldn't see a single thing. Susan has always said the
splashdown was exciting, and so it must be. President Nixon could see
nothing either. But the men are back, and I wonder what the experience
will do to their psyches. Will the moon ash haunt their dreams and their
egos?

Your letters from the Sesame, of the 20th and 21st came
today. I thought the simulations most interesting and hope you did man-
age to get a glimpse of the actual first footstep. And what fun to do
this with the company of the old dames. The men here have responded
nobly to the events, but I rather think that your knights of Sesame may
perhaps have felt themselves less masculine in a flock of dames, especially
at the Sesame where the hens rule the roost. Better, they will have said,
to feign indifference than to be unsexed.

I truly sympathize with you for your encounter with the drunken
American in the plane. It is too awful always to be exposed to anyone
in such a condition. The least I could have done, had I been on the
plane, would be to change seats with you and wonder how he would proposit-
ion me.

Another set of royalty statements came in from Pantheon today,
with a check for over a thousand. Your total for the year from them is well
over three thousand, all dutifully put away in the bank against your rainy
day. These statements were for the six months ending March 31st. 79 copies
of GATE; 307 of RUAN; 143 of Beowulf; 199 of OCTOBER; 2 of Ghandaran;
69 of PLAYERS BOY; 310 of ROMAN WALL in hardcovers, plus the 125 copies of
ROMAN WALL in paper. This is a good show indeed. Not many writers keep
selling every title year after year, with all in print. I congratulate
you madam.

Must get now to the proof for the H.D. interview, Wisconsin
having sent it as of this morning. And then to the task of seeing if I
can rescure a book of poetry out of Black verse sent me. The language
seems anglo-Saxon but not your sort nor Pope's. Of course I dare not seem
chickenly prim.

My greetings to Ines and to Marie Ann. I still try to find
those dog biscuits for her, but no luck thus far.

N O R M A N

H O L M E S

P E A R S O N

2 3 1 H G S

Y A L E U N I V E R S I T Y

N E W H A V E N · C O N N

25 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

I am not certain whether I have improved each shining hour
during the day, or not. I began with a trip to the bank to deposit your
royalty check so that it would gain the maximum interest. The check:
1077.69;; the amount earned from Random House in 1969: 3,217.66. The
total in the account for you to draw against at wish: 22,234.22. And
all earned by the sweat of your brow.

No letter from you today, though I had hoped to learn whether
or not you saw the magic football on the moon. By the way the moon
appeared briefly last night as though to glow with relief that no one
was kicking its dust around any longer.

My chief occupation was, after going over the galleys for
the interview on Hilda, to go to the library and begin picking up and
filing. I went through a formidable number of yellowbacks, making
initial withdrawals from them and at least putting them into some order.
Mostly I took out my letters to you, and yours to me. What a net we
have woven between us and of us. Edith and Pavlov had nothing on us
at least in terms of quantity. Quantity of paper, I mean, not affection
or love. At least we have our special brand.

I can't really do this sort of thing while Leyda works in
the room, but he has gone for a few days to visit his parents and rela-
tives outside of Chicago. Nor did I feel I could go while Mrs H was
here and could type correspondence. So I kicked my heels a bit, to good
results I hope you will feel when I welcome you to room 511 in the
library.

There was a trace of sun earlier today but the sun has retired
into the haze and they tell us the thermometer will again be in the low
60's tonight. It is really a pity to miss so much of summer.

I honor you with a new stamp. I shall write Ethel today or
tomorrow and will send a set to her.

We have had our report on the mischief of those at Goodrich
Street. They streamed 100 gallons of water into the oil tank, so the
tank must be drained as well as all pipes into the furnace. Alas.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

The afternoon has been spent at 511 in the library, putting away your letters to me and mine to yours--this seemed a simpler way of beginning than to do all at once. The task for the rest is formidable, but I can only marvel that you patiently receive so much from me and patiently return it. I can't believe you actually can find time to read it, but it gives me a sense of communication with you, of relevancy to you, in the best modern mode. Actually I want to make as much of the absence of Leyda as I can, and since I have been doing something of the same with my HGS office during Mrs H's absence, both spots are in a disheveled state. Here I am re-arranging my filing cabinet, so that the Dusty Diamonds have, as they deserve, more or less of a drawer to themselves.

This morning I reported at a quarter to nine at Goodrich St where the oil man was waiting for me to begin syphoning off the water which the mischievers had poured in with the oil. 100 gallons of it. But apparently the two separate so nearly completely that the oil itself will not have bo be drained out too. Which ia consolation, though a slight one.

Then I kept a promise for many years duration (only my former
son-in-law had said that he wanted to do it, -- he never did) by taking
Justus to see the destroyer-escort COATES, which is harbored in New Haven
for the Navy Reserves. It is open for tours on Saturday and we were lucky
enough to go at the wrong hour, so that when they took us around anyhow,
Justus had the run of the ship. This was a great success, and interested
me too. An old-timer commissioned in 1942 and about to be retired. After-
wards I took him to have his haircut, which he very much needed before
going to New York on Sunday for three weeks with his father. I launched
at the shore and then came back in, went to the house and put the alarm
system on after the oilman, he having finished.

Two notes came from the Sesame but I have mislaid them for the
moment. Perhaps still at the Library where I went directly on coming back.
Yes, I do think men are jealous of what they fear may be more masculine
men. Women feel a radiance that men fight against. You never said whether
or not you actually saw the first step but I presume you did.

I phoned Horace who said he had had a setback but this he thought
was because of the weather. The sun has still not come out. We have guests
for dinner tonight at the shore but cannot take advantage of being there.
I suggested to Horace that I come to see him and Marya on next Saturday
afternoon, the 2nd and bring a bottle of champagne with me, plus crackers,
so that they and I can celebrate Patrick's wedding. He seemed delighted
at the idea, and the day can have a significance rather than a sense of sep-
aration. Patrick is to visit them on the 9th with his bride. I gather his
revision of the memoirs marches.

All water is shut off at the graduate school tomorrow so I cannot
come &n even if the weather, as predicted is still bad. Almost a solid
month of it.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

27 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

The clouds stayed on last night but we could sit with our guests
on the porch and pretend that it was fair. Not this morning however, for
it stormed rain with complete abandon. The idea of working outside was
hopeless, altho I did manage to get a step ladder and replace a burned out
bulb on the screened porch. Restless I came back to the office this afternoon,
despite the shutting off of the water, and have continued work on my filing
cabinets in HGS. Your Dusty Diamonds are much more accessible, and should
stay so, since they have an alphabet of their own. Several of the other
cabinets are however in a consequent state of confusion, although I hope to
get to them gradually. I shall have to get storage boxes for some more or
less dead files however. Now that I have had my year of working in the
office and with the files I know better what I want available and where.

There is much to-do about Edward Kennedy, and all of it is
complicated by the confused images of John Kennedy and Bobby and Jackie
Onassis and Ethel Kennedy who has been made up to replace Jackie as the
brave widow. We suffer from too many images in this age, and the younger
brother wears a suit of spangles in consequence. But I must confess that
this newest, still-unglazed image of the man who ran away and then lied
is not a pleasant one. Certainly not a pleasant one to contemplate as a
future president. People talk of nothing else. They so carefully avoid
the topic at first that one sees the subject stirring beneath the surface
waiting for the first chance to jet forth in an arc that is not a rainbow
for anyone except the enemies of the Kennedy family, of which there are
many but not always the most admirable.

The New York Times announces a book off the press today on the
astronauts, and I must get one and airmail it to you so that you can be
in early. This morning's New Haven paper had an article by a girl who
has just completed her solo sail from Australia to San Diego. Both Susan
and I liked the tone she uses, or is used for her, and we both thought
that she was the sort you would be interested in. Your kind of girl, I
should call it. Susan liked best that she permitted herself to get mad
and scream. That's my kind of girl when she is by herself in mid ocean.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

Last night it poured until dawn, tropically. Then by breakfast time it was raining hard again, and so it has kept up until afternoon when the rain stopped and the mugginess began. People no longer try to speak to one another or talk about the future. They call it the revenge of Artemis and all other moon gods and goddesses. I myself simply don't know, but it is perhaps just as well that they keep the astronauts in quarantine.

I ran all sorts of errands before coming to the office: took a book of poems (in ms) that I shockingly found tucked away and uncommented on, and returned it to Melitta with a long letter of apology and commentary. The poems were by some protege of hers. But how angry she deservedly is with me, or must be! They were sent to me nearly two years ago. Also to the picture framers to have one of Stieglitz's photographs cleaned from inside the glass and touched up on the white enamel where somehow it had chipped--perhaps at the Andover show for which it and the other Stieglitz were borrowed. The framing is Stieglitz's, and so naturally I want to keep the pair matching.

An announcement came today from Lippincott's saying that Sir Gavin's THE STREAMS OF CULTURE had just been published, his book on science and culture, or ou sont les neiges. I thought that had been used up some years ago. I think I must order a copy since obviously Lippincott would not have sent me an announcement if he hadn't given them my name.

Three letters came from you today, of the 23rd, 24th and 25th. It is good to think of you at Kenwin again, and I was delighted to hear that Ines was in good spirits and had been pleased to play Elsie to Grace. But oh dear does this mean you must now escale Ines? Pleased too that your business with Philip went well. You must see the photographs of Philip's chateau and you will recognize that his estate may sell it but he won't. For where again could he find the equivalent of the throne cum coronet in the chateau's chapel or a seat for a son who belongs to the Knights of Malta. No, he speaks of selling as a moral and psychological defense against self-accusations of squander. But, as he told me, the chateau is the ultimate expression of himself. That is why he reminds me of a cock who spreads his wings and makes a noble crow of triumph. Kenneth's designs are more intimate, more sensual, with little surprises and caresses of decor. And it too is an expression of himself. That is why he can dip into capital since he regards Cetona as capital by equivalence. I don't actually think he has much left now in the way of pictures, Peggy G having bought back most of what she sold him, and she sold him most of what he has.

And what is my self-expression? By mode? A filing cabinet. Ah, you should see how I arrange and rearrange its interior. There now, there now, I say to each folder as I tuck it away again.

Your days at the London Library sound grandly successful, and I am pleased that you saw the new Greek section of the B.M. Is this what Susan and I saw the last time we were in London? The Elgin marbles were rearranged, and all seemed to be fresh. For if so, there ought to have been time enough for postcards to be made. Yes, you should go to this coming Queenwood reunion. It would mean much to Ethel and the others, and becomes rather a duty I fear.

The Dusty Diamonds? I think I must deposit a collection or two--not give but deposit alongside the periodicals which I have already taken to store at the Beimecke.

The weatherman says tomorrow will be the same as today, and we have had to postpone once again the picnic for the Japanese to have taken place tomorrow. Now I can only say I call them when the sun appears.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

29 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

For the briefest of moments at breakfast time the sun appeared and there was a spot of blue sky between the gray clouds. But then it disappeared. I foolishly left my rubbers in the car. By mid-morning it was raining, and before noon there was a constant deluge as there has been off and on throughout the day. More than inch has fallen each day. One would think we lived in the tropics. And of course it is muggy; in my office I simply strip down.

Although I could not stay long in such comparative comfort. A graduate student from Cornell has come to read the Hawthorne letters and arrived at ten this morning after my quick visit to the gymnasium. At the same time arrived a man who had phoned me latish last night to see if he could look at the *Borderline* material. I believe he is named Cripps and he works on Robeson, is a t.v. man who was here with a crew, and I believe had been in correspondence with him. I took them the library together, and worked for a bit until a man phoned to come to arrange for new draperies in Mrs H's office. She had complained, and they are presently, I must admit, both faded and dirty. In my own office, fortunately, the old ones will continue to do. They can be a surprise for Mrs H when she returns. Anyhow, I preferred to make the decision myself--mean of me but more exonomical. Then at lunch I was to have a meeting of the program committee for the Historical Society--my last year as chairman--but alas the chairman of the Society (President I believe is the correct title--I was trying to drag him down to my level! --) never showed up. I did and was soaked.

Then Leyda having returned there was no room for me to continue to work in 511 in the Library, so I came back and have finished reading the galley sheets for most of Hilda's contributions to the Wisconsin number. I gave them a chapter from "The Gift", and several poems out of the past. A little research too since I think Hilda misdated the year of composition of the early poems. And was at Corfe Castle in 1916 rather than 1917; at least other accounts say 1916.

Your letter of the 26th came today. I am pleased that you saw the landing on the moon and will see to it that you see the twin orbits of the brassiere when you come. I think you will see that the bras is equally a piece of art as well as peace of mind. In Swinburne's day they fancied drinking cups of silver or gold modeled from the breast of a girl friend. In Benet's time everything was so flattened that one could have only the sheath or a silver bread board. But you must not make me go on this way; did you never go in for a fetish. It is never too late; what would you like? Napolean's a.d.c asked for a most intimate souvenir after the Little Corporal's death; he got it and it is now in a South American Collection. But I am still living, more or less.

Patrick? I don't know what sort of a splash you want to make, although I doubt that you will go on making gifts to him. Would a check to go towards his car be a good idea--not all of it but a round sum. A thousand? You can say, you know he is going to get one. Actually I imagine he already has it, but the designation permits any sum you want. Other than money it is hard to know what to do. I may sound too big, but he has always been faithful in writing and admiring you and grateful for all you have done for his parents. He thinks of you as "family."

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN-CONN

30 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

It poured again most of the night and was still raining when I drove to work. But now at the end of the day the sun is almost through for the first time in nearly three weeks. I wonder if we can be the sun's children for a few days anyhow. I should dearly love to get the Japs tucked away beyond reach of my pricking conscience.

Little to report alas. I did some letters this morning, secretaryless, and finished most of my reserve shelf for next fall's graduate seminar on 19th century American poetry. And then typed a little on your memoirs, which of course was great fun.

This afternoon I spent at the library, since Leyda's wife is arriving at Kennedy from East Germany or Moscow (I forget which) and he would not be there. Nor the young man from Cornell who is vacationing with his parents nearby and was, I fear seduced by the sun to seduce his wife into an afternoon out of doors. But I managed to get through the last of the yellowbacks, and extracted all your letters to me and mine to you. A huge accomplishment which reduced the remaining task measureably. I am still bewildered that you can read, or even pretend to read, my too-long endearments. But for me it is being with you.

Your own of the 26th and 27th reached me this morning. Your story about Mlle Rauber is truly shocking but alas I suspect it happens often and never more inflicted than by the prosperous. One result of course is that there are almost no Raubers left. I hope you will be her organizer. I will help you picket her regular customers.

Good for you to remember the theater. I feared only that too-glib assurance that people adopt when they begin, "You remember, of course...."
* Ines' drink sounds splendid and I must ask for a sample even out of season.
That is, if the essence of a blossom can be preserved.

I hope you got the Vaudois book. You can see even my keys became excited at the idea.

Susan comes in town for dinner tonight, or rather comes for a late-afternoon Historical Society board meeting, and it is easier for her to stay on than to go home and cook. We ask the Footes to join us here at Mory's at 6:30.

31 July 1969

Dearest Fido,

We had a nice touch of sun this morning and everyone rejoiced. Now at the afternoon's end all is cloudy and gray again. I had resolved to take a chance and invited the Japanese for a picnic tomorrow, to fulfill the twice-postponed event. They accepted but what will the weather be like now. I think we must more or less go through with it willy-nilly.

The first part of the morning was spent in errands, books at the Co-op, a filing box for the office from elsewhere, and some extravagant pate de fois gras and caviar to go with a bottle of champagne for the Gregories on Saturday afternoon to celebrate Pat's wedding. The trip is probably absurd, but I think of them as otherwise feeling much out of all.

A little time at the library filing more letters, and then Macheon with the former graduate student who is dedicating his book (to be published by Princeton in November) to me. A nice man, ex-Marine whose courage in academia needed occasional boosting. So I used to boost and tell him he could finish, as indeed he proved he could. The dedication of a book to me always pleases me more than any other single thing I can think of. For me at booktime the ultimate hyphen.

Then this afternoon, having had my mane clipped, I have been typing at the Jigge. What a wonderful chance this gives to savour the sentences, and yours have a special taste.

Your letter of the 28th arrived this afternoon. Did I tell you that I had a nice letter from Ada Gloss who seems now well recovered from what she calls her breakdown after Sam's death. The handwriting firm, and she sends you her love, having written me in answer to a question. I save to show you when you come.

The telephone number at the shore, as from New York, is 203-488-0237. I expect to be in daily communication with you except perhaps when you are at Pup's and are busy with them.

I'm glad you're sending along the legal notes from Hilda's file. I am just putting things into shape and realize how important these might be even if slight in appearance.

A yellowback came also. A nice note from Mrs Lindbergh, and a sad one from Robin. He simply could not, and hence cannot accept the idea of the adopted child, which in a way is a pity. I hope Oonagh lands on her feet, or if on her back then to her real advantage.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

1 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

All that you've sent in thus far from the second volume of the
memoirs has been typed as of this afternoon. Shall I send these sections
along to Helen against your coming, or will there be some additions from
your past few days? They really do go along nicely, and I repeat there is
no comparable way by which to savor a book that is copying it. And I shall
learn to improve my own style, obviously.

It has been warm today and although the sky is not altogether
blue it should do for the Japanese and their picnic. Their number has been
somewhat reduced, since two children are in New Jersey. But it will be done.
I only hope they have a good time.

Your letters of the 29th and 30th are here, but because I must
go to the Point and prepare the fires for cooking out of doors I shall not
try to answer them at any length until tomorrow. As to insurance, some of
the loss at Goodrich Street will be met but I do not know how much. An
adjustor is to discuss all that. The kitchen floor must be ripped up and
allowed to dry for a month. Then in September they can go to work on it
and lay a new one. The culprits, I regret to think, are likely to be the
three sons of our next door neighbor. They are annoyed with us because we
do not like them to ram over our fences and destroy shrubbery, shoot with
air rifles through the hedges and almost hit Susan, and the like. This
makes us "mean." So does the fact that their father owns the art school
which we have had to join the other neighbors twice in stopping them from
their plans, first for night sessions, then for student dormitories. Zoning
forbids it, but in each case the father had begun to go ahead anyway. But
of course one cannot prove anything.

A very nice letter to you from Pup; she is obviously looking
forward to your visit.

Will try to write again tomorrow before I set off for Horace's.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

4 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

Alas, no letter to you either on Saturday or Sunday. And probably
none tomorrow or the next day when we are going to Lenoard for overnight with an
undergraduate roommate at Yale. An annual event skipped last year because of
Australia. I once took you to his house, now pleasantly restored. We go up
tomorrow and back the next day. I can ill afford the time but feel I should go.

The picnic for the Japanese Friday night was a great success and
they would have eaten more had we had it to feed them. The weather stayed dry
and altho a little chill was warm enough until after-dinner coffee. It really
hasn't been so since. Only we listened to the all-star football game after the
Japanese had left and so were not in bed until after one. Thus late to the office
and no time for a letter until I set out for Horace's after a quick lunch.

I arrived about three, and almost immediately was joined by two
college girl-friends of Horace's, one of them east and the other lives with a
daughter in New Haven (that one an architect, the daughter with her a poet--she
says). Mrs Bloom, described on the phone today to me by Horace as the daughter
of a wealthy Chicago merchant was, as he puts it, "the first official girl
friend." The other had been in secondary school in Milwaukee, "from humble
backgrounds"(which meant her father was a dentist, I gathered). But I found
Mrs Knowles also most attractive and they did seem devoted to Horace. Their
being there on Patrick's wedding day was an accident, but the only day the visit
could be paid and so Horace invited them. I brought a bottle of champagne, so
did they, and so surprisingly had Marya herself. But I brought caviar and foie
gras too, so it was a true party. Horace was in his reminiscent element, and
I thought he had had good taste in his old girls.

Yesterday it poured in the early morning but at least stopped
raining by afternoon and so I stayed at the shore. Pulled some weeds and gave
Venus an overdue bath. She moaned pleasantly as I washed her, and shivering a
little, in anticipation, asked when you were coming and if you still wanted her.
I said every indication pointed that way, and let it go like that. She said she
wanted to show you around, but I'm not sure what she meant by that, and so said
nothing.

Last night we dined with Liz who has now moved next door for her share
of the summer.

To return to your letter of the 29th which came after I wrote you
last, I have phoned Brentano's as to whether the paperback would be open on the
Saturday morning after your arrival. "Why, sure!" And so will some if not all
stationer's shops. And all postoffices until noon on any Saturday. The books
I will check on for you. This time I will leave the 9th siesta of Montie to you,
after our multi-copy confusion the last time.

I forgot to say that I have added Fenn's _DEAD MAN'S LAND, being the
voyage of certain and uncertain Blacks and Whites_. Sounds very modern.

Two of the 31st came today. Your gift to Patrick was generous and just
right. I meant only that it should be a bit of a splash, which is precisely what it
was. It will make a great difference.

I suspect I may take a quick run to New York before you go to Long Island,
and can relieve you of the heroin and anything else you may not need or want at
Netherfield. I obey your veto of _Streams of Culture_. Frankly I am tired of culture,
no matter which stream.

Today reading proof on the last of Hilda's things for Wisconsin. Glad
I did, I caught some errors, several of them originally mine.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

7 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

One's nerves are shattered. It has been sunny since dawn, and this
unexpected state of affairs can bode no good. Actually I began to be jittery
yesterday morning in Lenox where it was fair also, and continued to be so until
we left for New Haven at three. Fortunately however it rained severely as we
drove through the Berkshire mountains and so we could relax into normalcy. My
only hope is that the weather may be practising benevolence for your span of
visit. We hope so.

I talked with Helen on the phone today to explain the sections of
the first two chapters (I complete and two parts of 11) which goes to her by this
evening's mail. Also a revision of the jacket material for which she sent a
draft earlier. I rewrote it last night after our return, chiefly a change of
emphasis but using most of her excellent phrases. I gather that she and Jovanovich
voted in favor of THE COLORS OF VAUD for the title. She is, it goes without
saying, much looking forward to your visit. I explained your Saturday morning
appointments at the post office, the stationers, and Brennero's paperback basement,
and she is girded for afterwards.

I return the racy clipping you sent plus an interview with Aiken on
his 80th, and a somewhat understandable objection on the part of the Girl Scouts.
I hope they win their suit, or should one say their uniform?

A huge pile of mail waited my return and we stopped to pick it up so
that I could read last night at the shore. My poor little Danish sculptor still
wails that he has received nothing, though of course Ruegg has sent along the money
to the National Museum. "I am tired of the ways of the National Museum," Havsteen-
Mikkelsen writes, "in spite of being at the same time attached to this old
institution. Easy goingness and art have nothing whatever to do with one another."
I am not sure of the truth of the last sentence, but sympathize with him.

Three fine letters were also with the lot: yours of the 1st, 3rd and 4th.
Don't worry about the manuscript. Mrs H will be back shortly so there will be no
problem about who types, since she types so well. * What a rotten shame about Miss
Butler. I hope she won't suffer much, but know these things can be rough. * Bruno's
visit is completed and one more step accomplished. I am glad they did not overstay.
Sorry about Ruegg and his apartment troubles, but I would be a little careful about
stepping in to help. * As I wrote you, your gift to Patrick was completely right. I
only flourished round figures because they hurl better. I suspect marriage will
bring a sort of reality to Patrick; he needs it as an editor. * No, nothing from
Zuri except yourself. And Schrafts is the height of respectability and whipped
cream deserts. A good place also to listen, but the tables are not always close
enough. Take notebook with you when you go. * Heydt wrote me a card also, but the
signature is difficult to decipher. * Poor Ines, I suspect she is trying to make
conversation by imagining insults. Naturally nothing gives anyone more dignity
than another's snub. As Eleanor Roosvelt said, "No can make you inferior without
your own consent."

All love,
Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

9 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

A curious day in which I seem spiritually uneasy. For no reason of course. Perhaps the weather hovers between good and bad, and one hopes for good weather since we have guests for the shore tonight. The Cleanth Brooks and Osborn and his sister. I think it may be chiefly living with the air conditioning on in my office.

At any rate I have plugged away at letters and at least made a dent. Then I began going through reprints (offprints is the word I meant) and throwing away at least a few things and finding others that I can give to Yale. I no longer feel the necessity of being myself a museum. I was pleased to have a book of poems, NOT AS LEAVES ARE SHAKEN, by Walter Blackstock arrive, since it is dedicated to me. I fear the poetry will never rival Stevens's but the gesture is a very sincere one. I was pleased too to have the Tree Warden of Hamden call (call ME) to say he had checked on a dead tree at the back of our Goodrich Street lot and it would be taken down next Monday morning. I had been working on this for months. A letter came from Collins, sad as always. He of course itches to publish his reminiscences of Hilda, and I see no reason why he shouldn't since he said nothing out of the way or even particularly original. Only he'll have to get it published; we can't do that for him.

Your own letter of the 5th was the most welcome. Have no fear about typing a manuscript. Mrs H returns on the 25th and can have all done before you leave. But of course Helen is off, which was why I was anxious to give her as much as you had sent.

I am quite bewildered about Ines, which is only a reflection of her own obvious bewilderment. I should think it a combination of the death of her parents with a sense of being no longer any one's child; a touch of menopause; and a kind of malaise from your having touched her, polished her, but not yourself over to her as you did to Elsie whom she feels she succeeded. Perhaps the holiday in Italy will help for a few weeks or more after your return from the States--it would be nice if it could last until December or so when you close Kenwin for the winter--but I fear that this sort of psychotic condition will inevitably reassert itself.

I shouldn't have made it sound as though I knew that the neighbor's boys had done the damage at Goodrich Street; I only had that hunch. The father would not have instigated them, but they might have felt it a revenge for the family.

Not being sure that you are going by way of the Glock to New York, I rather doubt I dare trust another letter to Switzerland. But I will write to the Stanhope and hope for the sound of your voice next Friday. What a joy it will be to have you so near.

9 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

It seems strange indeed to be writing you chez Stanhope,
though you are still actually snug in Kenwin. But I welcome you with
open arms, embrace, and a rub under the ears for the best of all sled
dog companions. One trusts there were no drunk Americans to propose
marriage to you on the plane.

Your letter of the 6th arrived this morning. It is splendid
that you and Anne have hit it off, and outside of his rather severe
politics I have every reason to believe that Charles L is very much
worth listening to. After all, I understand that he more than anyone else
got the backing for Goddard who was father of rocketry, and has done
much on the way all along for the developments that went to the moon.
People seem to understand his withdrawal and to respect it, or at least
permit it. And I do remember that my brief words with Mrs L gave me a
very different impression from that of her book, "The Old Lady and the
Sea" or however it was called. As for Helen it goes without saying that
she is overworked. But that is her nature and always was, partly as
compensation for Kurt who relaxed instinctively and constantly. And now
in her widowhood work is her companion and bedmate; she has few friends
and I suppose couldn't really. If she has a fault too, as reported from
old Pantheon days, it is that she does not know how to delegate work.
She is a one-man institution. Fortunately we all benefit from it, for
no one is more one-man loyal to those friends like yourself whom she
truly cherishes.

I am cabling, qua ex-spy, for my free ticket. And surely
we must see the movie somewhere, whether free or not.

By the time you read this, Ines will be a memory and no one
at the Stanhope will worry about whom you bring home or don't. Nor will
the chambermaid expect tea even at Schrafts.

A little white facsimile of a yellowback came from London,
mostly amusing for 'slay's relay of their friend Ann's spelling. I met them
once with the Boys.

It blew too much for us to sit out of doors last evening before
dinner, but we appreciated all the more the larger view of the sea in storm.
I am terribly eager for you to see the changes, and hopefully to approve.
Our double elephant table is scheduled to be delivered by the artist (and
wife) on next Wednesday. So you should be ready for a ride.

Today when I work it has been, or was, beautiful. I cleaned
house mostly and with some success. But now it is cloudy again and they
say it will rain tomorrow, worst luck for a Sunday.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

12 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

I fear I have been somewhat erratic with my letters to you
ever since it was too late to send to Kenwin. Oddly you had never said
just when you were going to Zurich so I did not dare send anything there.
But at least you will have had one or two greetings waiting for you at
the Stanhope. Or I hope so.

Sunday turned out to be a so-so day in terms of weather. In
the morning the sun was not quite out, and it had rained hard in the early
morning before light. But not quite bad enough to send me to the office
and by afternoon the sun almost came out. I went sailing with the Footes
in their Gunji; there was a stiff breeze and we went miles out in the Sound.
Huge back storm clouds filled the sky, but passed us to the North,
drenching Johnson's Point but not us. Luckily for I had no oilskins with
me.

For dinner, young Susan brought a pleasant young man who
seems to be a beau. The children are in New York with their father. He
seems nice, is quiet and apparently willing to work. He too is an archi-
tect. She found her first week of work at the city Public Health office
confusing but apparently she liked it.

I think I must have written you about the Catholic Bishop
who had been my student and for whom I got a Yale Graduate School medal
this past graduation. He had resigned from his bishopric by the time the
award was made, which confused the wording of the citation. And now he
has married a protestant woman and become her fourth husband. Two I believe
died, the third was divorced but since died. One thing is certain: I was
wrong in thinking that one day I might have a cardinal as former student.

I wonder what you will see in the way of museums. The Whitney
Museum has an interesting show of Cole's paintings--a 19th century romantic
American. You really also ought to take a quick look at the primitive art
from Rockefeller now on display at the Metropolitan. Not your cup of tea
I know, but all is exceptionally well shown.

Engagements begin to pile up and I try to crowd them in before
you come. For I shall pretty well take a vacation while you are with me. We
do look forward to seeing you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

13 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

Somewhat of a topsy-turvy day in the sense of beginning it
at Goodrich Street while I read and waited for a man to come at 9:30 to
fix the sprinkling system--an aftermath of the vandalism. The man came,
worked, and left without success. So I gather I must do this again to-
morrow. No gymnasium and the sense, in consequence, that every moment was
behind hand. Finally to the office however, where I picked up as best I
could the magazines that had been sorted yesterday and left in little piles.
The rug is now bare, and with that stimulation I even picked up a bit more
of my own office. I work against the day of your inspection, and the
feeling that I must not let you be ashamed.

My luncheon period was devoted to a long-time-ago student,
now a professor of English who is writing a biography of Winfield Townley
Scott and wanted to see my letters from Scott and have whatever I could
remember.

And afterwards, more letters answered and so forth until soon
I go back to the shore to wait for Wendell Castle and wife to bring the
double elephant table for the front deck. I wonder if they will actually
come; Sloane's did not deliver some chairs Monday as promised.

I think I did not specifically reply to your letters of the 6th-7th and 8th which came yesterday. Poor Marie Anne and her locksmith. Clutch your key at the Stanhope. As I wrote recently, when Helen has seen what you brought have her send to me so Mrs H can type while we frolic. Don't worry I shalln't be typing again. Just as well I think for you not to try to squeeze in four or five days with the Hotsons in Maine, much as they would like to see you. I am really quite out of touch, and the Cleanth Brooks equally have lost all contact. I wonder what little festival Mary has been organizing for the Maine children?

Today your letters of the 8th-9th and of the 10th arrived. It
is exciting to think how much closer each day brings you. What good luck
with the reduced fee for fare for the over-sixties. I shall have to move
and take advantage of it. * The books to Marjorie make good sense indeed.
I am always happier when I think books are doing good. I wish mine did me
more good. But I am almost too busy to read. Now I am on a submitted
dissertation on Dreiser. * Kenneth seemed subdued and I sometimes think
he feels more comfortable when you are on the same side of the ocean with
him. And he is a little uneasy for one reason or another. I think we will
find him building a swimming pool soon, for diversion. I wish I could ship
him a puppy crocodile to amuse him. But I believe the import duty is immense
and the cost of upkeep considerable. Several of the Roman emperors, however,
found the nibble of a crocodile delightful.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

14 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

Well, the double elephant table did arrived and I am glad to say we still like it. I hope you will. At any rate you will find it different. The artist and ceramicist wife finally got to the shore a little after six in the evening, sat for a moment in the sea breeze and then unloaded the table which is not so monstrous as it sounds. (He had done a table which he said looked like what elephants stand on in circuses. So naturally two of them, joined, were a double elephant.)

We dined on cold roast beef, which Susan had cooked to be eaten cold. Unfortunately the wife, when the plate was put down, said she did not eat any meat. Poor Susan had prepared only a salad to go with it, and bread. The girl ate salad and bread. But how I wish that people who cannot eat meats would let one know in advance. I remember how flustered we were by Sylva, and would have been more so had her companion not whispered a warning, knowing that Sylvia would not.

They were extremely nice however and we enjoyed having them with us. It gave him a chance too to see his sculpture *in situ* and to think about a balancing piece I want him to do for the opposite side of the deck. Both size and color were in question. I am eager for you to see what is already there this year, and then the addition on the next visit.

We were sorry to learn that the Anglo-Saxonist John Pope had had his house in Maine, at Christmas Cove, totally destroyed by fire. They were on the West Coast and had rented it to a former Yale professor and his wife, both unfortunately alcoholic. Both were totally consumed, and nothing but the chimney was left of the house.

By the time they had left this morning, for New York, and I had done the dishes so that Susan could meet the decorator at Goodrich Street, the morning was almost vanished. For at 11:15 appeared a Japanese woman professor from Tokyo plus the American woman professor with whom she was staying in New York, whom I also knew. I had the Japanese take them out to lunch, Prof. Fumi Takano is now in my other room talking with still another Jap, has one more appointment at 3, and at 4 I take them and the Leydas to the shore, bring them back into town for dinner and put the New Yorkers on the train. I shall have had it.

Tomorrow we have all the Germans for a cookout. And on Saturday Ruth Stephan and her husband come for lunch. Pray for me, if you have uncramped enough to bend your knee.

All love,

NORMAN

HOLMES

PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY

NEW HAVEN·CONN

15 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

This is the red-letter day of your arrival. I have just spoken on the phone to Horace and he tells me that you are already on Long Island with Pup, for he had had a letter from you telling all. I had not said you were even about to arrive today, and so was silent save for a timid suggestion that you were not here yet. Oh no, he said. I left it at that. He said you had explained you would not see him until after the 1st, and I again said I would bring you down. But if you want to call him late Sunday morning on some afternoon before dinner I know it would please him. The number is 914-359-4362, since he is in a different telephone district than NYC.

Yours of the 11th and 12th came together today. I am so sorry about Marianne who has apparently had another stroke. I think you are right not to write her, but if you had the courage I know a five minute visit to her at Lenox Hill Hospital, 77th at Lexington, Rm 431, really would mean an immense amount to her. You could phone and make sure, but do say who you are and that you are in from Switzerland. I suspect that this time to save the peace you ought also to see the Chester. I remember that he was both bewildered and resentful about your neglect the last time. I trust Helen's fears about Kennedy's being blocked did not obtain in your case. Usually this is truer of domestic flights than overseas ones.

I am not sure just when you arrive chez Stanhope but will try to phone you either tonight or certainly tomorrow morning. I doubt I get in to my office either Staurday or Sunday. Helen has just sent the proof for Vaud (I suppose we didn't really know the book if we seem to have objected to the present title earlier; I had completely forgotten it.), so that I shall have plenty to do. And we have guests arriving for lunch tomorrow.

Yesterday was almost completely consumed by the two from New York, their visitors here, and the Leydas whom we took to dinner with the others. I wrote you but did not have time to put it into an envelope and mail. So you will have blank boxes I fear.

This afternoon we have two German couples, plus a Norwegian Visiting Fellow for a cookout at the shore, and this takes care of all the foreigners who have been attached officially to me, save for one German now in New Mexico and an Indian now in New York. One can't quite relax but one's sense of duty is soothed.

I finished listing longhand the duplicate volumes I can offer to the University of Bergen, and a good many books are off the floor. I trust most will be in order when you run your finger over things to see if they have been dusted. I do hope all is dusted at the Stanhope.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN • CONN

18 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

Woe is me! This morning I took to Goodrich Street the young man who wants to be a writer (and certainly isn't, yet) so that we could alphabetize the Henties (we also got the Ballantynes done. Kingstons, Fenns, and Stables still to go for the study. But as I drove in the driveway I saw water shooting up again and knew that the someones had done it again. The driveway was flooded, so was the cellar, but luckily this time nothing had gotten into the kitchen. But the cellar was the Hamden equivalent of the Fountain of the Trevi with great gushes pouring into the laundry, with the same arcs that a fountain has. I immediately commanded the sixteen-year-old-er to strip completely, and he marched bravely into the downpour and managed to turn the water down, then turn it almost off, and tonight I have just come from using my stronger fingers to stop everything completely. I went back because I got the man who installed the watering system to come to inspect. He agreed that they had broken the connection with a rock and that we might as well keep everything shut off and unrepaired until we move back to town. Tomorrow morning the oil man is to check whether or not they again put water in the fuel oil tank, and in any event to try to put a lock on the vent. This time I must go back to the police, though it will do no good. But how sickening it is, and how frustrating and how frightening. Better sell me Kenwin; I'd prefer to fight with neighbors by hurling goat glands back and forth across the boundary line.

Your Zurich letters of the 13th and 14th came today, tho I rejoice to think we can actually converse on Wednesday. We can set the hour of convocation when we speak by phone tomorrow morning. Obviously you got off from Zurich though one wonders quite how. I really do worry a lot about Ines and suspect that she itches for discharge. But it is all so complicated.

Re suitcases, I shall bring my briefcase for work on the train, but with a good deal of space in it. On the other hand if traveling to Long Island becomes easier with one piece less I can easily take that mit to New Haven where it will be waiting for you. But we dress very simply; you forget, we are like Adrienne (though I remember how Hilda used to say--"But don't think for a moment that Adrienne's dresses aren't expensive. They are!")

I think it must have been your book about serious but lonely French sailors, (they are serious because they are lonely) that made you want to nip the behinds of Swiss girls. French sailors are said to nip all sorts of things of those inside Chinesetype trousers (which is why this style is called Nipponese when worn by the Japs.)

Don't wear yours when I greet you at the Stanhope. Or else eyebrows will be raised.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN

24 August 1969

Dearest Fido,

I ought to have been writing you long daily diaries for you to read now, and then again when you come to the Point. But so much has been confusing and interrupting since I saw you at the Stanhope that my schedule has been sadly interrupted. Indeed if it had not been, I most surely would not have come in from the shore to the office on this superb day. I shall stay there after lunch however. It pleases me that you are getting a taste of the little fine weather we have had this summer. I only hope the luck continues when you are here.

Friday was mostly consumed by the breaking and entering at Goodrich Street. I phoned our nice construction man who sent his glazier to repair the broken windows in the pantry, so I waited at the house from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. while they worked not only at the two broken in the entry, but four others that had needed doing. Then I went to the police to report what I had found in the way of being missing. Nothing I think was taken, very likely because of the interruption by the security man who stupidly drove into the back driveway and let the thief escape by the front door. But an old and valuable chair (antique) had been placed by the front door as though by selection for removal, a bureau drawer in the guest room had been opened by the silver dresser set not disturbed, and a chess set opened in another guest room. The thief never reached ours before being scared off. The police of course were furious at the security man's clumsiness.

Friday night we entertained again at dinner: the Gordon Haight (he wrote the George Eliot biography) and the Henri Peyre's. Thursday night we went with the two sisters to The Country Squire for dinner, and once back from that at 10 p.m. I drove to New Haven and brought out the visiting Japanese professor. But I think we have done with entertaining now, and will be well rested and fit for you. Yesterday afternoon, after my visiting Jugoslavian professor and his wife had left after lunch (they wanted to make a special trip to New Haven to talk to me--I never met them before--and yesterday was the only time I was free) I went back to the shore, changed and came in for a wedding reception. Then Gallup took us to supper at the Lawn Club, and showed us afterwards his new apartment which he has decorated beautifully, after quitting his college quarters.

I enclose the only two letters for you which have come thus far.

Your own letters of the 16th and 18th reached me, for which my thanks. Plus a yellowback. One senses how much a corner of Islay's heart yearns for the East--Hong Kong. I think if anything happened to Kenneth he might abandon Cetona for a bit and head East. I shall have to get an address or two from him of possible dealers in smuggled Chinese goods. One of the tomb things he mentioned, for example. * Rosemary's boyfriend is the limit. I am glad I don't have to meet him and be polite to him. Anyone who tells a person like Rosemary that he loves only her but can't put up with her infirmities, plays wickedly with the other's heart and sanity. My God, he angers me!

I shall be calling soon to find out whether you prefer to have us fetch you in the Friday morning or afternoon. It doesn't matter so far as I am concerned.

Give Susan's and my love to Peddita and John and the children.
And be sure to get a full account from Nicky about the Folk Festival.

11 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

It is utterly depressing to think that now, more or less at the end of the afternoon, you are at the airport and about to leave us. I hated talking to you this morning on the phone in anticipation of this very feeling. My only consolation is that after your next month or so of visitors and visiting you will have a chance to get back again to the memoirs.

But we did have a wonderful visit--the best ever--from you, and for that I am especially grateful.

I wondered over yesterday to see the result of the final cutting of the pampas grass, and like the new landscape more each time I see it. They say we must wait until next year before beginning to cut away the poison ivy, so that one can be sure the poison for the poison works its way cleanly to the roots. But in a year or two one should notice a great difference.

The morning went chiefly to interviews with Visiting Fellows from Japan, and a little more dictating of letters for Mrs H to work on. Actually my own mail in has been unusually light this week so that I am becoming honestly caught up, even including letters to Mildred Brown and Ada Gloss.

From noon on went to the Henty man whom we must be sure to have you meet if you come over during the winter. He is doing a biography and has managed to straighten out a good many things this past summer in England, has dug out one or two contributions hitherto unknown, and has been making a special study of the news despatches (he is a professional historian). His greatest lack was not having even access to a copy of the Magdala volume, and so since we had a duplicate I gave it to him. In return he promises to give any duplicates he may have, or even firsts. All he wants for his purposes are copies of the book. I am giving him access to the letters, and he found several immediately valuable bits of information in them, including the controversial date of Henty's visit to the States. So all of your labors begin to bear fruit.

Somewhat cool but beautifully clear weather today as yesterday. You would shiver a bit but like it, I think.

Tomorrow I am in to New York for my business consultation with Harcoant. About the possibility of publishing complete and inexpensive editions of authors, chiefly American I gather. Jovanovich asked a committee of three from the staff to examine the problem, and they ask me to join them. At a fee I am happy to say.

Think of me sometimes,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

13 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

Your cable came this afternoon, and it was good to know you
were safely in Switzerland again even after the delay for fog. I shall be
eager to hear the details of what must have been a tiring flight. I hate
too to think of this even shortening the time before you had to receive
Trudi. It makes her visit all the more exasperating.

I must say you really have been rushed during your last days
in New York and now with this. Your letter of the 9th arrived this morning;
it is quicker to hear from you in Switzerland than in New York. But for-
tunately the phone served in compensation for the post. I was only especially
glad to have the letters from the Boys about Valentine. This is most troubling,
and as his godfather I only wish I could help him. But he has never opened
up or seemed able to, perhaps want to. My only hope is that he will not take
refuge in listening passively to music. I suspect his pride must have been
hurt by not getting into the first-string colleges. Yet if his marks are an
indication, his lack of interest in study began at Choate. One can't help
but wonder if there was not some connection of a faculty member with it,
some unreturned or broken contact. One never knows, but like yourself I
wish a psychiatrist could get his hand in before too late. One would have
thought he would respond to the Boys if to anyone!

The trip to New York yesterday was, I suppose, satisfactory.
But I was disappointed in my use of the morning's hour before my appointment
with Harcourt. I had first thought to visit my shirtmaker from Tokyo who
I was told, in New York. Alas, he had a fitting (so he proudly said)
with a customer on Fifth Avenue, and I could not come as indicated in the
p.m. So boldly, having read in the Times (as you must have) of the narwhal
now in the New York Aquarium, I vowed to see a unicorn at last. But
fortunately I checked with the taxi driver whom I asked to take me to the
Aquarium at the Battery. It's at Cony Island now, he said, and so it was.
It would have cost me ten dollars or more each way without time enough any-
how. It would have been fun.

The conference was, as I thought, about some sort of American
produced equivalent of the French Pleiades volumes. But I could not quite
make out what sort of market they wanted, it eventually appearing that they
were making overtures to the Encyclopedia Britannica to have their salesmen
handle Harcourt books door to door. No wonder your friend quit the Britannica.
At any rate I am to write up my views on the various possibilities and receive
a check in response. They presented me with a copy of a Helen book illustrated
on Jerusalem just out yesterday. Very handsome I must say. And I saw the
new Anne L book of which 100,000 copies have already been sold and they are
reprinting beyond that. A little book made up only of the two articles for
LIFE, and bulked so to make a book out of it all that one could have driven
a horse and buggy along the white space between the printed lines. Helen
will not starve, nor Anne L either.

I hurried back and went directly from the train to the Henri
Peyres for drinks. And after that we took René Wellek and his new Russian
wife to the Lawn Club for dinner.

At night I went on reading the memoirs of David Randall who used
to be the Scribner's Rare Book man and who managed to get the Henty Collection
for Indiana. His great boast was that he had once catalogued a copy of Henty's
*A SEARCH for a secret* for $17.50, now at Princeton. "Just recently," he says,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

"a dealer catalgued (and sold) a copy for $1,250. It is now at Harvard." Since we have two copies, we are not doing badly. And since one came from Jackson & Co. it makes the rest of the things the cheaper and our bargain not so bad after all. Especially because we got the presentation copy of Henty's first novel also.

The reviews of the just published dictionary were not so good as I had thought--its chief claim seems to be propriety of usage on the one hand and definitions of four letters words on the other. So I have already sent off to Joan the dictionary you saw, a good reliable established edition. No pictures but she can read.

I think of you at home now, at least being at home and knowing where things are. And in metaphor àà least, I reach out and touch you.

15 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

I have just glued on the unglued stamp you gave me, and trust it
sticks to the last. This will be your reward for thrift. Thrift too, I stuck
postal discards on four other letters. Thus I am 46 cents ahead.

Otherwise there is little progress to report for the day, tho I
have been more or less on the "go." At the moment I feel a little woozy from
having begun my own shots (encouraged by your Pruttings). I am common-colded, common-
flued, and Hong Konged. The cmobination usually is felt.

I began the day by returning to the gym where my muscles ruppled as
I lifted weights. "Rippled" may be a little complimentary, but at any rate they
moved. -- And as a sample of what preceded this letter, a knock came and there was
a former student now teaching at the University of Kent, a former cockney whose uncle
stimulated his interest in literature when in jail for forgery. He did well to get
a job at Kent; at Manchester they told me he never could teach in England because of
his accent.

Yesterday was a brilliant autumn day, clear and sparkling. I did odd
jobs about the shore house in the morning, we then waxed the double elephant table
(which really does shine now as a result), and then in mid-afternoon went for a
last sail in the Gunji. My brother-in-law puts it up next weekend, for the winter.
And, oh yes, for lunch we had a memorial feast of corn on the cob, remembering you.
We are reminded of you too by the succession of hash made from the various left-
overs. And leftovers are or can be good.

After the doctor this afternoon I went to the travel agent and, alas,
had to wait a half to three-quarters of an hour although I had had an appointment.
I went over the schedule for two or three trips scheduled for this fall, on *lectures*.
And began conversations about the trip which begins in February. Easter *Island*, alas,
seems out unless we wish to stay over for a fortnight. The plane touches in only
that often. The hotel is primitive and I am not sure just how much we would find to
do for quite so long. Still, it would be fun in a way. Otherwise it looks like a
bigger dose of Southeast Asia, with perhaps a day's stop in Taiwan as tribute to
General Lindbergh.

No news from you yet, since your letter of last Tuesday after your
unsuccessful lunch with Harcourt. Except of course for your cable from Zurich. I
shall be eager for your account of your visits in New York to Annie and Marianne,
your final talk with Miss Time, and your fog-bound flight and return to Kenwin.
We both wondered yesterday if you had taken the Trudy to the Escale.

16 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

I wonder if Susan's garden at Goodrich Street will ever get weeded. Each day I have the best of intentions; then students or visiting firemen stop in near the close of the afternoon and it becomes too late, as it now is, for anything but a brief letter from you. This afternoon I met an Australian whom I had not known was awarded a two-year fellowship to work under my supervision. Plus a Japanese (of small English) here for a year on the same mission. Plus a former PhD in American Studies now nearing the close of a subsequent law degree from Harvard, who wants a job here or elsewhere.

Your page proofs for *Vaud* came yesterday afternoon, and I spent the rest of the afternoon and after dinner and today reading those so they could go back quickly to Harcourt. Normally I do not have to read page proofs, but with Helen away and the rush schedule I seem to have been dragged into action this time. I have only a comparatively few pages still to go and so far have come across only one broken letter. Everything else I caught in the galleys has been corrected, plus the one or two excellent changes you made in the text itself. But I read from beginning to end in order to be sure I missed nothing before.

The stockings you left behind and Susan begged me to send to you, since one gathers these are available only in Switzerland.

Your two letters from Zurich arrived today, in the a.m. and p.m. I breathe more easily now that one is in communication again. I must try to see Annie Reich some time; she begged me to when we saw her in Maine. I was of course much relieved to think that Marianne was no nicely back on her feet again. She does have remarkable resilience.

Alas I am not surprised that you cannot talk politics with Nicholas, this being what is known as the generation gap. And usually there is no bridge, which is why Pup advised silence and tolerance. Valentine one can believe feels the gap in other ways. Dorothy Doolittle presents no generation gap of course and therefore even when differing from her point of view you speak, more or less, the same language.

I wonder if it would have been fun to be on the first Northwest passage. One gathers that when the boat couldn't get thru the ice it simply backed up and then plunged forward with tremendous shaking up of all passengers. I will take you one day when the shock absorbers have been installed.

Our best of course to Ines and to Marie Anne. And all love to you.

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

17 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

Ten minutes for you today. Alas! But when Mrs H does not leave until 3:30, and I must go only afterwards to get my season football tickets (how I wish you were going to be here to watch a game with us), and I have the first English Department meeting at 4, followed by a cocktail party by Wallace Stevens's daughter for a former student and poet (John Pauker), this is when one's most intimate friends suffer.

Yet there seems strangely little these days to report. Mostly seeing foreign visiting fellows (one Indian, one Japanese woman, one Japanese man). The latter wanted, I'm sure for me to give him enough money to keep himself and his wife and two children in the States for six months longer-- the answer, No ---.

Last night Susan and I changed our pattern and went to the films. To see *Goodbye Columbus*. Quite good, really as comedy, and the scene of a Jewish wedding was supremely funny. As were several other scenes. But I think not for you. I went because it has been praised and because it is by the author of *Pourtnoy's Complaint*.

Your letters of the 14th and 15th came this morning and noon, in reverse order, and were gratefully received. I am much pleased that Trudi's visit turned out pleasantly. You have the past to share even though not the present. And she must keep in touch with certain circles that will be interesting to you. Her story of Waley was amazing at least to me. Somehow I had never thought of him in this role, and my admiration went in others of his no doubt many directions. If you touch on Waley in the war years why not bring it in.

I was of course very interested indeed at the news that Ines may have inherited her mother's house, or a part of it, after all. Much better that the sister should go back if she can. Perhaps too Ines will want to retire there someday. Actually already she might be a catch for some local, in view of the money she will have saved while with you.

Your time with *Time* sounded like a delightful reverse play. I always have confidence in you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

It grows colder and Susan already thinks of moving back in town
by the end of next week. 50º in the morning makes one shiver a bit in a house
with no heat. I brought in wood this morning for the fireplace,--damp from
last night's heavy rain--and we may well put a match to it tonight.

No letter from you today and as usual there is little of interest
to report from this side. The Law School students are said to have pitched
tents in their courtyard and moved into them for sleeping quarters, to protest the overcrowding made by the necessity of admitting the extra Black
students demanded by last year's Black students. But I have not yet walked
across the street and into the School to see them.

The narwhal at Coney Island has now been given a baluga as
foster mother, and they swim happily together. I will send the clipping
tomorrow so that you can be fully informed.

We went last to the cocktail party given by Holly Stevens for
an old student of mine, John Pauker, policy head for the U.S. Information
Agency. He says that anyone must now (by Nixon's private decree be under
fifty to be sent abroad as cultural attache or otherwise. He does not
approve, altho himself about forty and last night dressed in ultra hippy
fashion. (His wife told Susan he wears pin-stripes in Washington, and is
properly F.O.) After the party we dined at the Lawn Club, and once home I
read bravely on in the dissertation which I am glad to say I have now finished
and sketched out my report on.

This morning's post brought the proofs for my Melville talk at the
Grolier Club (which I think I gave you to read, in a xerox of the ms), and
have phoned the two corrections to New York after lunch.

Modest accomplishment for the day. But if I hie now to Goodrich
Street and pull a few weeds, this will not be the least of working days.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

19 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

Your letter of the 16th came this morning, and my spirit was revived. What fun it would be to Dane-it together, especially since I had not known that Chris was still in Copenhagen. If you get his address do give it to me; I have owed him a letter for a long time. But I suppose it would be foolish to go to Denmark unless the National Museum is really serious in wanting to discuss the dedication, and I do not want to seem in a position to put up the costs of an affair of this sort. I might pay for having "Souvenir of Brattahlid" tattooed on the thighs of all those who attend (in what color do you want yours?), but that would be the limit. And if only my affairs chez W were more complicated I could come to Lausanne to discuss those, and come to Kenwin one day for tea. But the status quo seems likely to endure for some time. Much better that you should flip over for a mid-winter steam-heated holiday.

Do do a long holiday with Robin if you can.

Your mention of Lady deB reminds me that a very expensive but apparently very fine two-volume history of American art appears next month. Fifty dollars or so until the end of the year, but a friend of mine has done the early volume, and the second on absolutely contemporary art is said to be good. Do you want to splash on this for her Christmas gift? I am ordering one for myself, and will know better when it comes. But if for Xmas, this or something else, one ought to ship before too, long.

I made a great splash of time today and went to the Library room to answer a stack of questions, about Lowell, Hawthorne and Melville-- the latter two being for letters and scraps of mss by them which I own. Now having dictated the results Mrs H can type them up next week. Monday being Yom Kippur she will not appear. Alas, I have my first class then; I wonder if some students will be absent for that reason?

Proudly I weeded almost two feet in the rock garden at Goodrich Street after I left off writing my note to you. And although one shivers I shall return in a few minutes for a few feet more.

One piece of good luck. Last night on my way home I drove by a neighbor's house at the shore, saw their car was in, and suggested we ask them in after supper. These are the Vilas's who have the sailboat in Newfound-land where it turns they were off to this morning at dawn. She had insisted on buying half of the strip between the Johnson's Point Road and the lagoon, and as a result the transfer was delayed because of the smallness of the plots. I think I mentioned this to you. Now it turns out, perhaps because the husband has retired, she wants me to buy it all. I phoned the estate lawyer a half hour ago, and he says splendid. I think I have enough in the savings bank here--indeed I know I have--and so in a few weeks I will have the deed or at least the bill of sale. More poison ivy to get out but it will be nice to have some control at last. I shall have new territory to take you over when you come, but I promise not in the snow.

20 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

A few moments of being with you and then I must go downstairs in
the Graduate School for a reception to new students. Susan wisely stays at the
shore, not only because we have guests for dinner but because (altho chilly; it
was barely 50° this morning and we had a fire for breakfast) this is one of
those unbelievable crystal days that come sometimes in the Fall. How I wish
you could have looked out over the rocks at the sparkle on the sea. Even the
gulls seemed giddy with it all, and how would a Scilly lad like yourself have
reacted! You would have opened your arms and taken the whole sea into your
embrace.

So I felt sanctimonious when I opened the office door and went
into my non-seasonal room. The morning and most of the afternoon I have spent
at the dictating machine. I had read innumerable offprints that have been
sent to me, and properly I hope thanked for them. I have gone through the
weekly batch of letters from Norman Macleod and been touched by the carbon
of his letter to another writer, that his association with me *has been so
rewarding that it has come to mean almost like recovering all that life has
taken away from me.

Last night we went for supper to Lizzie's (she is moving back to her home today) where there was a nice German refugee couple, now in their eighties and very lively; and one of Pup's good friends, who was Anne Heynigger and is now a Mrs Willard and a grandmother. She is married to a doctor now teaching at the Medical School but after a sensible ten or more years in a small Maine village. I found them both very attractive. But I am stupid: the point is of course that the Anne worked for us in London and then in Paris and London during the war. She visits Pup on occasion, and I must use the Willards as an apple to get the Schaffners to know New Haven better.

.... The reception over, three punch glasses of non-alcoholic beverage
and four cookies consumed, I take up the page again.

Many thanks for yours of the 17th. It was distressing to read of
Helen's sister's illness. I hope things have turned out well. It would have been
pleasant to have a true visit from Helen, but I am glad you caught a glimpse of
her. * Yes, by all means ask Anne L down. I suspect she needs as well as likes
your company. We all of us begin to slip out of our old times, and have hardly
the heart for the new. That is why I like having a new plot of land to rid the
catbriars and poison ivy. Just think, in Maine Mrs Willard and her husband have
just bought over 100 acres more of woodland and pasture for a total cost of
$2,000. Think of the catbriars there! Why don't we find ourselves some land
there to retire to? Then like Joan's lions we too roll upside down.

Yes, the third maple sugar was for Marie Anne if you think it
might amuse her. I can't send her a nightgown; it would be improper (the
gesture, not the nightgown).

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

22 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

I woke up this morning feeling a little woozy, and at the end of the day still feel so. I think I must have a touch of something, which is perhaps not strange since the morning temperatures at the shore are in the low 40's and we have no heat except for the coal fire. Susan's orchids are now all in town, but we can't be. Our bedroom has been painted and the decorator has not yet brought the new draperies and bedspreads and all necessary else. Nor has the house been cleaned, although the new kitchen floor is now nicely installed. Probably we shall try to move in at the weekend, although we have overnight guests on Wednesday who come chiefly for the shore. "Altho" is not quite word, for it is this Wednesday. Still, yesterday was an absolutely idyllic day--such sparkle as you have never seen. And everyone who has a boat was out in full sail to be sparkled on. Late in the evening but before supper the architect at last came for a look, and liked it immensely even complimenting Susan for insisting that the side walls of the pergola be left off from his design. He really was pleased, which was nice. He stayed for supper and indeed had to wait for it, for when he arrived I had gone back into town to search for the Addiss dog who had wandered off while she played tennis. I searched and searched in the car, even persuading two policemen to join me. But finally I found that they had recovered the dog after all at the tennis court. So the errand was fruitless except for the display of good will.

Several visitors came in the afternoon to discuss problems of land at the shore, whether or not the sisters should try to buy the lot between the chauffeur's cottage and the strip I now own. Perhaps they should to make a solid piece; I don't want to buy it myself. And in the morning I went in to Goodrich Street and finished weeding (in rough) the rock garden on the bank by the driveway. I had wanted to go back for other beds this afternoon but have not felt up to it.

Your letter of the 18th came today. I was sorry about Helen's health, and had not realized that she was a Prutting. Yes, your first printings are usually in the 5000 area, but the important things is that they keep having to be reprinted and are all in demand enough to keep them in stock. Am pleased that Ethel is pleased about Scilly, but only hope you will not feel you must stick by her chair. You really ought to take Pup by the hand and see that she sees everything, and indeed you do want to see everything and everybody. I am sure Ethel will understand if left alone at times.

A checklist came in Book Collecting of Ainsworth. You have eight, and what a pity the real collection was lost. The bobliographer says there is only one copy in the USA of Star-Chamber and of Windsor Castle. He didn't know about yours.

A letter today from Islay about the Ghandara, but I will not try to summarize. Will send a xerox instead. I don't think it comes to any conclusion, but I gather he doesn't want at Cetona, room there though there may be.

Hope your weather improves.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

23 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

This will not be more than three or four lines, for deNagy (the Swiss professor who wrote on Pound and knew Hilda) is already late for me to take him to the shore for a cocktail and then with Susan back into town for dinner. This is my way of "doing something for him." Alas, there are too many people to do things for.

I enclose a letter from Ethel addressed to you in my care. She forgot and sent it surface, stamping it that way. All things considered it got here swiftly.

I still feel a bit woozy, and obviously have a touch of something. My first seminar yesterday drew only six people altogether, not all of whom are actually taking the course for credit. It makes no difference to me, but does make the conduct of the course more difficult.

And impressive batch of letters from you arrived today. 'slay's letter to you contained much the same as his to me so I will not bother to xerox it. His somewhat desperate suggestions appear to have been drawn out of the hat, and in any event were all explored by me with Schiffrin last spring. I will try to settle the matter later this year. I probably the answer will be to keep a few bound copies in stock and pulp the rest. We shall see. I fear I cannot quite make out Kenneth's financial panic, since by his own account he must even at 4 plus% be making twice as much from Fides as from the Union Banque in income. Possibly all the re-painting of the frescoed ceilings has gotten him into some particular financial crisis. In some ways I think he is a little like Lizzie. * The letter on British Rail was appalling. * Many thanks indeed for the Goulden account. I daresay I shall be hearing from Mr Fall soon. I think I should order the Lord Dowding book as for the record. Hilda had a thing on him, I know. * A good letter to Mrs Humby and I am sure she will be pleased

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

My first Hawthorne seminar this afternoon and the group, although small, looks like an interested one. But I have small time in which to brood on it now, for my college roommate and his wife come down from Lenox for overnight with us, and may already be at the shore.

Your letter of the 21st arrived today and I am sorry that things are so worrying for you. I had not meant to be silent about John Todd's letters and the others you brought out and gave to me, as from your return to England. We did actually discuss the matter at some length on our drive to Horace's, and I felt as you did that they should have been able to make some use of your particular contacts and language skills, especially as they were so short for able hands. But I do know that in many instances they passed over the use of extremely able women pretty much simply because they were women. I know of none in the branch I was familiar with, in any position of real responsibility. Whose who were used at all served as filing clerks, and they would hardly have had the nerve to ask you to do only that. No, I don't, and didn't, blame you for feeling irritated and am glad you have preserved these documents for the record. But I'm sorry that in memory I seem to have been silent.

I'm sorry too about the mixup and misunderstanding about the page proofs for *Vaud*, and that I whimpered a little at having to read them. I think I like to give the impression of being a martyr and having so much of importance to do that every interruption is an affront. Actually if I felt this at all it was simply because even for my own book being done at Wesleyan (I still haven't received your copy) I didn't read page proofs, and almost never have. Going through the galleys as you did in New York with Helen, and as I did, and approving them to her even before you made the two little changes I queried, really is held to release the book to the printers and the publisher takes the responsibility for seeing that the corrections indicated have been made. Harcourt had your letter and phoned me about it this afternoon, saying they had no record of your ever having been sent page proofs, and I am sure they are right--and that none went from Pantheon either. Helen having gone, I get the page proofs were received from me with my OK the proofs were sent back to the printer because of the extra rush to try to get the book out as promised at the end of December. They are sending you a set of page proofs however, altho I don't honestly know what Helen can do about making any historical changes at this time with the printer. She thought and I certainly thought that you were proceeding as always, and in this case were particularly glad to have the book off your mind, especially having gone over the galleys so carefully with Helen herself.

But I think you must blame me if blame there is. And when the next volume of the memoirs comes out, hopefully without the tensions that have complicated *Vaud*, we can outline an order of procedure that will be satisfactory.

I do hope you will forgive me.

25 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

No letter from you today but perhaps I shall have a batch soon.
They seem now to come by pairs, as though entering Noah's ark.

But not much of a day either so perhaps silence is my punishment. The Morrises arrived at the shore last night about five, and we spent the evening simply with dinner and conversation. This morning after a good breakfast we went in to the Yale Art Gallery and looked at the American silver and furniture which are among their strongest holdings. Back to the shore for lunch, and then they returned to Lenox and I came to the office. But mid-afternoon arrivals don't leave much of the day for accomplishments, and I have done little more than read the mail and sign the various letters she had typed up.

There was a letter from Dean saying that she had sent the Hardy letters to Professor Purdy--a very nice letter indeed. Actually I had learned this from Purdy himself, and alas of the three one was from Mrs Hardy (a note) and the other two were by people completely else and with nothing to do with Hardy. But we assume that these may well have been the ones Dean thought were his, and I am only sorry that in fact they are valueless. She wanted to sell them to Purdy who would gladly have bought them had they been the real thing. She says to me that she hopes Purdy will give her a signed copy of the volumes when they appear, and I shall get him to sign a set for her at that time. Still far off I imagine. It really was kind of her to go to the trouble of going through all the rest of her father's papers, for she says she has an allergy to papers.

A nice little oddity came as an addition to the Henty collection, from the Willey whom you missed. This is a comic book issue of *The Lion of the North*. In the *Reign of Terror* appears to have been in the same series. Perhaps I can get a copy, but at least we now have an example. You must dutifully examine its illustrations when you are next here.

One rather fears rain tonight, but it has been some time since we've had any. I must drive back into town for the theater, an Arthur Miller play at the Shubert. I must be careful not to doze.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

Two letters from you today, and such other related matters
also that the day is truly yours. The book on French novelists arrived
from John, which you had asked him to return. Many thanks. A nice letter,
warm as always, from Margery Hicks. I will send along after showing
Susan tonight. A good letter from your Mildred Brown, but since she
said she had written you presumably on the same day as to me, I shall
not recapitulate how nice Cindy is.

Probably the most significant was the letter from David Pokross enclosing his 28th account as Trustee under the Hanns Sachs Trust. There was only the one $1,000 expenditure of a token nature which we discussed and you approved last year. Meanwhile the total value of the Trust as of May 31st was $55,879.84. I think we will have to take some action on this before too long, and Dr Redlich has agreed to talk over possible outlets of a nature to meet your wishes, so that I can relay these to you and then discuss this and other possibilities with Pokross.

I had clipped out the enclosed thinking it might interest
you, and the photograph bring back memories. And it occurs to me
as I type whether you would like (which is to say whether Sachs
himself might like) say a gift towards the restoration of the study
to come from the Fund. It could then come as from the Sachs Trust,
and be remembered as such. I don't know; I thought only of this as
a kind of memorial to Sachs, and indirectly to Walter and your-
self and Hilda. This is only an unthoughtofbeforehand suggestion.
But I could write Dr Hacker and see what the needs are, of you so
wish. I daresay there would be much interest in the museum, Hilda's
book should be there, and the Congress is one you yourself might like
to go to because of Freud.

Your letters were of the 21st and 23rd. I am 180% in favor
of your new version of the explanatory note, and suggestion as to the
new phrasing of the dedication. This seems to me completely to solve
the problem, and I know Helen will be enthusiastic when she returns.
And there is absolutely nothing against your way of composing the
first complete draft. You do write in episodes and scenes and portraits,
whether of a gallery or a plot. It is perhaps your experience with the
film. It might not work for everyone but it certainly does for you.
And Philip certainly should come into it. The foreword itself flows
smoothly. I doubt that you will want to change it.

Delighted that you draw the empty boxes and suitcases into
the balcony. Actually it will look better if anyone ever inspects,
besides being more pleasing to you yourself. And by all means hang
on to them for the time being. What a relief when Melitta's boxes are
gone. You should invite Niehans down for a waltz with Ines on the
ballroom floor, as it will then seem to be.

Yes, send along Hilda's books as the convenience presents
itself.

We went last night to the theater to see the Arthur Miller
play, *The Price*. I was impressed both with the writing and acting.
It has been in New York for a year but never became a success fou. I think
it must have been better than anything else there.

All love, Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

27 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

The mailroom boy never appeared this morning and the post remains piled high on the counter inside the locked room. So I shall never know whether or not there is a letter from you. Well, perhaps not literally "never", for Monday does come.

Yesterday afternoon's activity was a late cocktail party at the Gordon Haight's. He is the author of the biography of George Eliot, of which you have a copy. Is now retired, at 65 rather than the usual 67 so that, presumably, as now, he can take an unexpected visit to Portugal of which they are both passionately fond.

This morning's chief activity was to go to the memorial service for Hajo Holborn who died during the summer the day after he received a new and the highest German academic-cum-political medal. He was a refuge, and had the office next to mine in the graduate school for twenty years. You may have read some of his histories of Germany and of modern Europe. There were several tributes, obviously sincere and extended. Unfortunately they were enunciated so poorly that I could understand almost nothing. In front of me at the service was a friend, another historian, C. Vann Woodward and his wife. They had been at the same chapel yesterday for another service, that one for their twenty-six year old son, just finishing his dissertation at Princeton in history, their only child. The boy died of cancer. Woodward is an historian of the South.

This afternoon's activity will be taking the two girls and the two grandchildren to the opening football game. Yale is expected to lose, but the weather is good and it should be fun. Justus at any event will have seen the first of the season, which will maintain his status amongst his companions. The game is with Connecticut, and you have seen them play Yale on several occasions. How I wish you were here with us today. Susan, alas for herself, is judging a flower show.

The days do go slowly.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

It was raining when we woke this morning, and since Susan decided to go in town to water her orchids (taken in because of the cold) and clean the icebox and kitchen, I took my own sandwich to the office and have been slaving away at my desk most of the day. There were bills to be paid, seconding letters to be written for Mrs H's husband for membership in the Graduates Club locally, and for the ex-librarian of the Grolier Club for membership in the Century Association in New York. And since Mrs H had asked me to second her husband's nomination I had to write four letters to people he knew asking for supporting letters. Then there were a series of letters to dictate, concerning the Finger Lake series of lectures next month. And an article sent me to read on D.H. Lawrence and his book on American literature, plus an unpublished one on Hawthorne sent me by the chairman of psychology in a minor Connecticut University, to be read and thanked for. Plus three longish short stories that have been here in manuscript since the beginning of July, also to be read and thanked for. The lawyer author wants me to become his steady audience and advise him; but who am I to advise anyone. Other oddments too, and I shall have to try to file some letters before I leave. And begin to prepare my tomorrow's class.

The football game yesterday was exciting though fearfully ragged. Yale played badly and deserved to lose, as it did 19-15. But there were moments when they almost won, and long runs, the length of the field, to cheer. Lizzie had trouble with her car and could not make it, so I took along one of Justus's boy friends, and he enjoyed the game all the more. His mother and sister also went so we had a crowd of our own.

Not much of course of any interest to report. Hilda's royalty statement for six months came in, $30.92. From Grove. 123 copies of *Bid Me to Live*, 110 of *Helen*, and 2 of *Selected Poems*. I am surprised at the small sale of the latter. I still have had no copies of the Wisconsin magazine itself but will of course send you by air when it is in print. I have the list of your suggestions for full numbers and only my interview.

I enclose Margery's letter. Yellowback some time. It does not require an answer from me. And I enclose also a rather tragic story which makes one sympathize with easier ways of dying. I am all for the doctor.

Melitta's visit must be about now. I hope all goes well during
it.

29 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

A basketful of mail from you this morning, plus others from others. Yours of the 23rd, and two of the 25th. If I moan a little in between thanks it is that your letter of the 24th was missing, and of course with it the account of the affair at the Sesame. I can reconstruct dimly from your references to it in the two later letters, but the juicy particulars remain unkown. But what an event it must have been, and surely a good thing too that they have brought in younger Club attendants. Otherwise the ladies could never have been carried. Presumably too they sent out only the youngest and strongest (and one hopes best looking) firemen as rescuers.

Glad you liked the Henty letters; this was quite another side of him to me. *As for Melitta, better perhaps that you get the visit over with, so that you can fit in a day or two's writing after Joan's visit, and Anne L's. * Our move? I think now we come in on Friday. Mornings are barely 5 o'clock if that, and Susan shivers. So do her remaining orchids. I myself will not mind a little steamheat, and although the view is lovely one can hardly sit outside any longer. A shorter commute, too, will not fret me. * I had really not thought of more than a weekend, long or short, with Robin. Beyond a certain point, talk will run out. But perhaps you can get him to talk about the past (his, I mean, as of the army or of old Anglo-Irish life). * Many thanks for Chrós's address. I shall be interested to know what Ingholt discovers; I fear little. Danes only plan invasions in advance. * I will see that the deBeer book is purchased for Lady deB. But since there is still time would you prefer it to go to you to deliver, and hold during their absence in England, or directly to them and be held locally. * As for my land purchase this will not be difficult, it was for a price already agreed on and low. Now Susan thinks of buying with her sisters (or two of them) the land between mine and the so-called Cooper cottage at the end of the Lagoon (the white house where the chauffeur once lived). This would make sense in controlling the lagoon and making the Cooper Cottage more desirable. But the price here is a little chancy. * Going on, I see that what was missing is the second letter of the 23rd, and you wrote none on the 24th (I say this only for the record). * Maine? If we ever have a house there for hand-holding, it should be only for late spring until Fall. Then Maine can be beautiful, woods or shore. * Glad you are re-doing the metal frames. Much better not to wait until spring for a job like this. * I will write about Close-Up tomorrow; tonight is too late. * What a kind letter from Sylva and how generous of her to want to help with the financial burden of Petrie's book. Since things are as they are for you, it might please her to let her help. I suspect too she would like to get the matter out of the way while her strength holds out. I am sorry about her trouble with xeroxing. If only some one could fetch it and bring it back for her. Would O.B.? For the xeroxing itself is nothing, but the weight and balance would be hard for her. I do think O.B. would be delighted to help.

The enclosed letter from Kenneth a good one as always, and I can see that he is really grateful to you for the Prutting potency. I was amazed to think that K is able to manage Cetona and Islay and entertainment and travel on only $10,000 a year. It seems incredible, unless he has substantial amounts ceded away elsewhere. I had somehow thought that the Union had all his funds except what was sunk into Cetona, and he certainly doesn't get enough oil from it for it to be self-supporting. There is some mystery, for until now he would only have gotten $5,000 a year to work with.

The hour for departure is here. I will pick up again tomorrow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

30 September 1969

Dearest Fido,

Because I never quite seem to get through my intentions in writing
you, I will (if you will forgive me) begin by being sure that at least a few
matters get mentioned.

Yes, John S did return the French book; it arrived two days ago.

A letter came from Goulden & Curry--very nice indeed and I think it
will be fun to do business with them. But you shouldn't have given so lavish a
down-payment; who knows what I shall order out of a sense of the prodigal. One
would have been, what you did do, the Dowdoing (not a bad misspelling!)

Watch carefully in the issue of the *NYTimes Literary Review* (Book
Review) for 28th September, for its long article beginning on page 2 is about
Natalie Barney.

I had to shop this morning at the Co-op and noticed a copy of the
paperback *Illuminations* by Walter Benjamin, with Hannah Arendt's introduction.
Somehow I remember your saying you wanted a copy for the shelf and perhaps to
pass on to good friends. At any rate one goes out to you with my love. Someone
may want it.

I went to the Library and checked this afternoon. We have several
copies of vols of Close Up for 1931 and 1933, so by all means send to Chester Page
if you like. They are valuable but he would value them. On the other hand I
have not more than one or two of Hilda's pamphlet about *Borderline*, and since
he doesn't collect her I think it might be better to send that along to me,
plus any duplicate Close Up issues you may have. If the Borderline pamphlet
were to go anywhere better I think to have it go with an H.D. collection
somewhere. But of course I leave to you.

Your letter to Susan which I had not opened contained the account,
not the clipping, of the Sesame near-escape. I had had half-visions of toasted
members on rice.

The Hannibal will be great fun. I did much admire the illustrations
to his last.

Yours of the 26th came today. Poor Marie Anne, what trials her
British are. But she would not give them up for anything. She has them safe in
her personal empire. * I am over my flu but forgot to go to the doctors for my
booster today. All is well; he says I can go tomorrow. * What do you think? Do
you really want to add Ainsworths. They run into money, and I daresay Yale is
well supplied, as for the long distance running. But if you wish to help Maggs,
or keep contact this might be a way to re-test. * Kenneth is indeed itchy, but
I daresay you will learn more in London, especially if you can get him alone
sometime. Some financial mystery exists, but I doubt he gives out on that. I
suspect at least a part of the trouble comes from what must be the lack of
success of his play. He envies you, I think, your literary reputation.

I sympathize with your problem as to definitions in Portnoy. What
I think is indicated is for you to stop off in Paris with a list of unknowns,
and then stop people in the streets and ask them meanings. You could even
ask about the same word from different people, ages, and occupations. I think
this would arouse some interest in you as well as you in them.

I enclose if I can find it a copy (to be destroyed) of a letter
about the Sachs grant. This was all right for one year, maybe two--but as you
know was done only so that some distribution could be made.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

1 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I feel very much like a sports fan, to follow up a football stamp with one in honor of baseball. I daresay the sequence was by government orders, lest one set of fans be jealous of the other. It all seems silly to me, and the reputation of the States for having the worst-looking stamps in the world is well upheld by both. I hope you do not mind this extra little extravagance, and I send usually two sets--one for Joan and one for Ethel.

Susan has been working like a dog to make our move, and driven back and forth several times between the Point and Goodrich Street. I think I go home tomorrow night to the latter, although Sunday will take time for last loads, including a chair broken by a guest which (not who) needs repairing. Tonight I take a Hugo Macpherson, Commissioner of the Canadian Film Board, and his wife to the Point for drinks and then to the Lawn Club for dinner. Susan will not have to cook, and since my stomach has been woozy today I shall eat only lightly. However I managed to get both to the gym for weight-lifting, and to the doctor's for my shots.

A few books arrived to go amongst the diamonds. Kingston's *The Grateful Indian* [1860], whose title I like. And whose beginning seems a model for novels:

------ We cannot boast of many fine evenings in old England--dear old England for all that!--and when they do come they are truly lovely and worthy of being prized the more. It was on one of the finest of a fine summer that Mr. Frampton, the owner of a beautiful estate in Devonshire, was seated on a rustic bench in his garden, his son Harry, who stood at his knee, looking up inquiringly into his face.

"Father," said Harry, "I have often heard you speak about the North American Indians]- the Red men of the deserts. Do tell me how it is that you know so much about them--have you ever been in their country?"

"Yes, my boy.... "

Does this not whet your appetite or your tomahawk?

Another is by G.M.Fenn, and called *The Cankerworm, being Episodes of a Woman's Life*.

And the third the first English edition of *Hans Brinker*, with an introduction by Kingston. Interesting the author is given as M.E.Dodge. Here she is always known as Mary Mapes Dodge.

But none of these compare with the splendid clipping of Fellini. This is the star in your crown. But this was a splendid lot altogether, including the rather astonishing announcement of an offer to "entertain" women who liked to or wanted to "smoke a pipe." My eyebrows raised just a little, since I believe this is a colloquial translation of what is known as fellatio (not to be confused with fellini). I may however be wrong, and wonder if it would not be wise for you to inquire from some of the old dames at the Sesame? It would be good practise for your lexicographic exercises in Paris.

From this you can see that your letters of the 27th and 28th have arrived. Dowding must have been quite a man, and the account is favorable enough of the film so I think it is indicated you see while in London.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

2 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Tonight we stay in town. I brought in my toilet articles this
morning; Susan will have brought enough of the clothing for me to exist until
Sunday when I bring down the rest and we move the double elephant table into
the house for the winter.

Somewhere, somehow I seem to have picked up an intestinal flu
and as a result have felt very low indeed all day, as I did yesterday also.
Nothing violent, just "low." By phone the doctor says to keep on liquids
and take dramomime. I never use it for seasickness but have some left over
from our projected Hudson Bay cruise. One trusts it has retained its power.

No letter from you today, but when Susan picked up the mail held
for us in town there was the postcard sent by you and Joan. A beautiful one
and much appreciated. In parts of Mexico they use much the same sort of net, a
butterfly they call it.

I should be working on my report for Harcourt, but the unanswered
things on my desk haunt me too much. So this morning at some length I dictated
a letter to Count Eigil Knuth, in Copenhagen, the 78-ish Greenland explorer
who has written so well about the archaeology of the Musk-Ox Way, and about
the primitive art of Aron (from near Godhaab). I visited him when you and I
were last in Copenhagen, and I was too down with the flu to realise I had been
with him a couple of years before in New Haven and shown him the Greenland map
two years before it was published. He is a hardy soul, to be sure; I liked
him but was too groggy to make the most of my time with him.

Otherwise my letters have been attempts to try to unravel the com-
plications of Japan.

My Henty friend called in glee on the phone to report they had
uncovered two long accounts by Henty in the London Illustrated News for 1868
and 1873. You might like to check at the London Library, although he will have
copies made for me. One has sketches by Henty himself in addition to the text,
and one has a number of pictures including one with him and Stanley. We may get
a good book out of all this.

I hope these last letters reach you before you take off for London.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

3 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Rather a mixed day I must say, and it is hard to evaluate
it. I began with a half hour's conference with Po Fei Huang, a Chinese
man in his 50s who teaches Chinese at Yale, is a poet and a painter and
of course exile. Last spring he had given me the manuscripts of two
books of poems unsuccessfully submitted in several spots. But they were
each too long, had no structure, but were nevertheless pleasant. He
went to Stanford to teach this summer, and so could come for his confer-
ence. What I had done was to make one book, shorter than each, out of
both. And gone over many of the poems striking out lines that seemed
redundant; stopping poems halfway through rather than let him explain
what he had just written. As example of the changes, he had titled a
poem "Questions & Answers!" He became more the poem he intended when
retitled "Questions as Answers." He was kind, and said I was what the
Chinese call, "a teacher of one word."

Then I was phoned this morning from Rochester to say that
a man who had been in graduate school when I was had died of cancer of
the spine at Grinnell College, Iowa. Would I telephone (telegrams being
uncertain) a tribute from my myself and one or two others for the
memorial service tomorrow. I found one who knew him, and something
about him, so I composed my elegy and phoned it to Iowa.

Then deNagy was here for his final lunch. He would much like
to phone you sometime and perhaps come to tea. He knew Hilda. Would
you like it later in the winter or spring?

A pleasant letter from Dos Passos. I had been sent a Japanese
translation of his book, on which I had helped the translations of slang.
Wondered if he had been sent it, and might not like it. I'de would. He keeps
asking us down to see him in Vórginia. We might all go some spring if you
ever came across in that season.

A fine card too from Ines, as from Florence. Do tell her how
absolutely delighted we are to have it and to know that she thought of us.
It was really most kind of her. She is a great favorite of ours.

Your letters of the 29th and 30th and an undated one arrived,
a trove worthy of treasure divers. I am sorry about the misunderstand of
Vaud. I was positive that what Helen brought you right off at the
Stanhope was the proof for Vaud, for you said afterwards that you could
not get to taking about the memoirs, the copy for which you also had there
as from me, because you were so busy going over the proof with her. No
doubt your letters to me would verify or deny this but it doesn't seem
worthwhile going to the Library to dig them out, since our intentions are
amiable on both sides. * I write too swiftly because it is 6 p.m. But
the Niehans story is fabulous. More of that anon. It has been raining
today, but I hope it clears before the Connecticut River trip tomowow.
We were promised fair weather for this afternoon, but it has only rained
harder.

All love,

5 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

No letter to you yesterday, as we went on the River Ramble down the Connecticut. A great success and Susan enjoyed it immensely. We had weather as autumnly fine as when you and I made the same trip several years ago. A little breezy at first but then we were protected from all but the Fall sun. Not too much color along the banks, but soft beginnings of red and yellow tones among the various greens. A box lunch as before but perhaps somewhat better in quality. How we wished you might have been with us, and if you ever plan to be here during the first week in October I think you might like to risk it again. Poor Susan had never been able to make it. The first year she had a broken hip; then when you were here she had a severe cold, and last year it poured so hard all day that we simply didn't use our tickets. This year, the Footes (Susan's sister Dorothy and husband from Hartford) joined us aboard and made good company down the river and out into and about on the Sound.

This morning we went to the shore, chiefly to lug the double elephant table inside for the winter. We also put the deck furniture in the house rather than in the garage as usually, to save layers of winter-accumulated dirt. Then packed up the rice paintings of shells from your room, and butterflies from another, and brought these and other oddments back with us.

This afternoon, alas, there is an English Department party for new members of the faculty, to which we must go. I have come down chiefly to begin work on the report for Harcourt which is now almost overdue. I have a lecture also to read for and write, to be given on my tour beginning on the 12th. The lecture will at least be fresh!

Your letter of the 2nd, here of course yesterday, was picked up by me today. I am glad Melitta's visit is proving so pleasant. I feel sure she will want to come again. You must write me at length sometime about Blake's escape. What a chapter all these Russian-inspired escapes from Great Britain make. And what a system it shows they have. * A card from Ines also in today's (yesterday's) mail, very formal, thanking for the gift. Please do thank her. I am sure you are right about vocabulary lacks, and especially the lack of anyone to get the full story. I still wonder if the adoption may not have covered the begetting of the sons. One would have to go over the entire story repeatedly, checking up on the variations and contradictions. * And I didn't properly if at all thank you for the new stamps for Justus. He will be delighted. * I will have to go to the Library to check on Hilda's letters to you, rather from you. They are all in the files there.

I return for the moment to the earlier letters, rechecking against my omissions. No wonder the Easter Islanders are angry; they must begin to feel they are Good Fridayers at best. Obviously we can't manage the trip via them, since we would have to stop for two weeks as minimum. I had not realised there had been difficulties with the trans-Greenland trip.

I gather Melitta will have left, and I wonder if this will reach you before you set off. In any event Marie Anne I hope will forward it.

All love, and bon voyage,

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 October 1969

Deepest Fido,

There hasn't been much of today and there isn't much of it
left. Ten minutes to be exact, although I shall have to come back after
dinner in order to begin the Harcourt report. I had a phone call from
them today; I can't say I wonder.

Your letter of the 2-3rd came, but for the sake of the record
and to prove I can't save the Sesame clipping, it was not enclosed. In
your last letter I did not remark on all the repairs necessary for Ken-
win. I suppose however that this will not hurt the sales value, and if
you stay on for a couple of years you will more than have saved the dif-
ference. * If you could manage the xerox for Sylva that might really be
the answer.

This having been seminar day there would have been nothing
much to rush a letter for, but I did want to re-review the Close-Up
matter for you. Do tell Rotha that Kraus already is printing and sell-
ing the xerox reproduction of the complete run. You will recall that
they wrote and asked for permission but neither you nor Kenneth would
reply to them. They would originally have paid royalties, but when
they heard nothing they had their lawyers look into the matter and found
that the magazine had never been copyrighted at all, so permission was
not necessary to reprint. Thus they have gone ahead. A second company
wrote you and you delayed replying to them for a number of months, giving
me their letter finally in March when we were over. I had my lawyer
take up the matter, since you said then that we might as well give per-
mission and get the money. But when he wrote the second company they
had meanwhile discovered that Kraus had already reprinted and so they backed
out. Thus Mr Rotha can do his anthology with or without your permission.
You do not still hold the copyright because there never was one. And
the contributors have no control either over who uses what you printed in this.
The latter only for your information if ever asked by one of them:
"how come?"

A card came today to you from Ines as from Florence. She
sent surface I guess. I will send to you in London so that you can have
her greetings from a distance.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

7 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Things have been rather disorganized today, for I had no sooner arrived at the office that I found Mrs H at the phone, she having just been told that her mother-in-law had at last died from cancer, in New York. So she was off at noon and I gather will not be back for the rest of the week. And since I shall be away all of next week, there will be quite a period of half-staff as well as half-mast. She worked on whatever letters remained to be done, and I wrote penned notes to as many others as I could. I had worked until 10:30 last night at the office on the Harcourt Report, and was only sorry she could not type up what I had done. On the other hand I shall have the office to myself for the rest of the week, with free access to the type-writer. So it come perhaps at a good time.

Already I have sketched out the shortish talk I must give at Jonathan Edwards College (of which I am a Fellow) tomorrow night for the anniversary birthday dinner to which all members of the college come. This year women for the first time, since Yale has gone co-educational. I am actually only going to weave some remarks about J.E. as used by the poets up to today: especially Holmes, a Phyllis McGinley, Ransom and Robert Lowell.

Your letter of the 3rd came, for which my thanks. I feel numbed by all of the badluck that seems to have gone with the Vaud, almost from the beginning. And I am of course sorry about these mistakes you uncovered but which I missed. Although it's too late to change them for this edition, you must keep a record to let me have for later editions.

The reports on Ines are really frightening, and I suppose she is ready to believe a fellow countrywoman every time. Education does count, and even the simplest lessons train one sometimes to listen. Ines will not. I too fear she will be done out of all she has.

You are correct; I did mean it when I asked Melitta to stop off. She is an able although sometimes an overpowering woman, and I am forever indebted for what she arranged for me. I smile sadly sometimes to think how the climate has changed in just those terrifying areas.

The royalty statements for the last six months of Palimpsest are in. 482 copies were sold, and the royalties for Hilda's account are $48. 88. And after all they really didn't have to pay any royalties at all, since the original copyright had been allowed to lapse.

My chief triumph today was to persuade a nun to occupy the house while we are away. I give her the occupancy plus a smallish amount each month to pay for food and evening taxis back. She is a graduate student working for her doctorate. Presumably there will not be wild parties, but with the Roman Church as it is today, who really knows?

Hope you got off from Kenwin without too much difficulty.

All love, as always

Noman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

9 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I should be abject with apologies for not writing you yesterday or until the very end of today. But I am so pleased at actually having finished and sent off my report to Harcourt that I concentrate only on my sense of relief in having that finished with. I think I told you that Mrs H's mother-in-law died of cancer in New York, so she left on Monday noon, or was it Tuesday noon and will not be back until next Monday. At any rate this meant that I had to type out the report with m'own fair fingers--a slow process when I am copying anything.

Since last night was the college dinner, that too is out of the way. My talk, or reading if you prefer, seemed to go over well. At least the applause was loud and long enough. In a way I think it surprised many of the young and the old too to know that Jonathan Edwards had been the subject of so many recent poems. By Ransom, Phyllis McGinley (in a rather silly New Yorker manner), George Starbuck and two by Lowell. Maybe there were others but this was more than enough for my purposes.

Now I have my lecture for the tour still to write, but I have given up the trip to Massachusetts on Saturday for a convention. They will have to do without me.

Rather bad luck I fear with the Ghandaran books I ordered for Nicholas and for Lotte. I ordered them as you know when you were here. Now today I have notices for each that the book is out of print. I must check with Schiffrin when he returns from Frankfurt. I thought nothing was to be done until we conferred.

Various letters from you have come in which I will answer in more detail tomorrow. I was most sorry to hear about Mary, and Leslie's letter was a most devoted one. But I think better not for me to write, since they have completely dropped me and almost run (Leslie does) in the opposite direction when they see me in the library.

We go to the theater tonight, to see a new play which opened yesterday. Tomorrow's letter I think better addressed to the Sesame. Do give my affectionate greetings to Joan.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

10 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Welcome to the Sesame. I hope your flight over was uneventful and that there were no proposals of marriage. You have so much to crowd into your London visit that obviously you have no time for husbands.

I seem not to have accomplished too much today. But one excuse is that the play last night lasted rather longer than usual. It was an opening, or rather the second night of a comedy, *Angela*, with a well-known actress, Geraldine Page in it. It was often funny and heavily gagged up with jokes, but it dragged at moments. Perhaps understandably. A new leading male had been suddenly put in for the opening night. On the second night he had been sacked and still another substitute spent most of three acts in bed.

This morning I began by a trip to the savings bank, a dividend check to be put in, and also some of what had come from W. Not that it won't have to be spent, but for a month or so it might as well draw interest. Spent? We have just discovered that the washing machine at Goodrich Street was also ruined by the water; and I think I forgot to say that when we first tried to use the garbage pail (sunken) it too had been filled. And they put the hose through the stove fan exhaust, filled the stove also and made it necessary to have a new fan fitted if it will go in the present hole. Also *today* (they) began to put in a new dry well and drain from the garage. The old one has been filled and choked and died, they say. So we start over again. They were drilling away cement as I left.

Back to the gym again for my weights and a massage. I shall miss this next week. After lunch I'll get an oral exam for the doctorate. Alas, we failed him. This is always sad.

I did break down and sent a card to Mary. My better instincts won in the end.

To go back, now that I may, before I begin my lecture on Three Bibles for the Young, I may not have commented at length on your Niehans encounter. I'm glad he's civil, actually no doubt he would like to be friends. More and more I incline to the view that you ought to hold on to Kenwin until he's out of the way. If somehow by some the two plots could be put together the possibilities for using the result would be immense. I know I did not discuss the oil tank so-called violation. I agree however with Coigny that one pays no attention. If someday a howl goes up, you are demure and say you are a simple little soul who never thought to question. The rules are chiefly for those who build thereafter.

Mrs Hamerman's first name is Wilda. One's mind may well be on Willa Cather. In suppose hers is simply the Wild Girl. I call her by her first name. You can call as you wish, and she would still sign Wilda out of deference, and respect.

Your letters of the 7th and 8th came today. I will work on the things for Melitta when I get back at the end of next week. I will surely heed to get two--a style book and a dictionary. Wouldn't she really do better with one more or less like what I sent Joan? For Melitta would do these things at her desk I should think.

I really am pleased that Melitta has now cleared out her things, and doubly glad that all went so amiably. And glad you may see her occasionally in London. She does have her nose pointing always towards aspects of p.a., which will interest you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

11 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Outside the window behind my desk someone is playing on a
very loud phonograph a long-playing record of march music. But it is time
I took a rest anyhow from Salinger's *CatherinetheRye* which I am trying
to understand all over again before I use it in my lecture next week. At
least it is a far more complicated novel than I had remembered, and indeed
even a better one than I thought. But how well I can work it into what I
have to say is another matter.

Dinner last night with the Peyres and Welleks was very pleasant.
I chided Peyre for not liking Colette, and he admitted immediately that he
never had. Partly because she hated men so. Perhaps she is basically a
woman's writer, but I see no harm in that, a Gallic D.R.

I enclose a number of oddments. Forgive me for bending Ines'
card, but I thought you might forgive me and be glad to have this greeting
from her if not on the trip for which it was intended, on your present one
for which she might equally have sent it.

I had also thought of you in connection with the Aldermanbury
church, for somehow I recall your having said you would one day like to see
it reconstructed. But this may have been sheer fantasy on my part. * The
account of the death of the narwhal is sad. And to think I never did go to
pay my respects. * Your account of the Sorbonne professor who bit a student
in the calf intrigued me. So in thanks I send in return a clipping from
yesterdays *NY Times* which seemed to me admirable. What could be better than
giving a tip to the police!

Your own recent clippings have been fine, and I thank you. How
pleased I was that modesty was preserved for the ten-year olds. What a blow
to crocodile lovers. * The passport story was unbelievable, or rather alas
quite believable. I am reminded to begin getting outs in order.

No letter from you today but a Swiss yellowback did come. I am
pleased, and, tell the Brigadier, jealous of his invitation to you to the
Services Club. But you of course will not have the privilege of the men's
bar. * A nice letter from Else Hansen; I have always liked her. * Glad
Catha had her cousin with her. Sometime it might be nice if she could visit him
in Nairobi. * Herring's letter seemed well controlled. Do you plan to see
him again, with Kenneth, this trip?

The entrance to the garage was quite blocked when I went home last
night, and both cars must stay out until the new drywell and drains are built.
But I am glad to say that when they began to dig they located the two earlier
wells and think they can fix them up, enlarge them and perhaps put in one more.
The drain itself was completely stopped but has now been fixed. So we should
be well taken care of, and the cost will not be as much as I feared. But
enough. Susan has ordered a new washing machine. We don't know yet about
the ventilator.

Letters will be chaotic as from me next week, for I shall be on
the road and in situations as difficult to get mail from as to get me to. But
give my love to Kenneth and Islay, and the Brigadier and Ethel, and Perdita.
And as indicated elsewhere. Do have a good time and fling yourself about a
bit.

All love,

Norman

Lodge
on the
Green

A Quality Court

12 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I write from a motel in the midst
of nowhere. It is over two miles from Painted
Post itself, and four miles from Corning and
the Corning (also Steuben) glass museum where
I thought to spend the latter part of the aft-
ernoon. So having looked out my window across
the highway and onto the hills, rich with
autumn foliage, I lay down on my bed and watche
the second baseball game in the world's series.
N.Y. won, just won and late in the game, so
that had its measure of excitement. And I will
no doubt be forced to get on with my unwritten
lecture, for I still have two of the three
books which are its subject, to re-read. Actu-
ally sensing what would happen I brought a
casefull of books as well as my typewriter.
I took the airport bus to an airport outside
Hartford and a small plane from their to El-
mira, N.Y. the only plane here for the day.
I have to meet my first engagement at 10 a.m.
tomorrow and so was told it was better for me
to arrive tonight. Actually I daresay I am
lucky not to have had to spend this afternoon
being nice to members of the Corning faculty,
or dinner either. I remember the story of the
concert pianist who charged $500 less if he
didn't have to go to a party before or after
his concert.

The ride was completely uneventful,

Motel and Restaurant, Dann Motel Corp., Routes 15 & 17, Painted Post, N.Y., 962-2456

Lodge
on the
Green

A Quality Court

one could see very little of the earth below,
and it lasted only an hour and a half, during
which I read and dozed.

I forgot yesterday afternoon when I wrote
to list the Ainsworths you already have, and so
enclose a list of them now on a separate sheet
which you can give to Maggs if you want to add
to them. I wonder, when I realise how many of
these titles are actually triple volumed, if
this isn't really the lost you originally bought
One or two of the titles in the list I gather
are hard indeed to come on. But you know of
course. One sees Ainsworth offered up fre-
quently but I have never bothered to check the
titles to see if we had or didn't have. Just
be sure to insist to Maggs that they sell only
volumes in fine condition, or at least very
good, or at least good. "Fair" condition is
not enough.

Does Worth intend to open up again? One
is simply curious. I know you have been getting
your things lately on Carnaby Street.

I forgot also to ask you to tell the Brigadier that his book on sunken treasure arrived a week or so ago but until I had gotten through this trip I did not have the courage to sit down to read it. Thank him for me, and I will thank him again. And thank Ethel too for her help in solving the mystery of the Hardy letters which turned out not to be that at all.

18 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Well, I am back and somewhat exhausted for the moment at least. I had a wretched record so far as letter-writing was concerned. My note on the first Sunday afternoon of my trip was as much as I managed. There was simply too much jumping from one spot to another, and although I was often left alone in Keuka I was in a small college guest room with no table, a desk that was locked, and only a copy of Whittier's Poems to console me. But since I had still not reread two of the ~~three~~ books I was talking on at Oneonta I kept busy with them, and when I had a free morning in Oneonta (Hartwick College) I wrote my lecture for the night. There were long drives between the stopping points of my triangle. About sixty miles from Corning to Keuka (among the Finger Lakes), 200 from Keuka to Oneonta (a trip on which they sent me by taxicab at 35 cents a mile), and 160 from Oneonta back to Corning again. Except in Keuka, a college of 865 and too small for a motel I spent my time in motels. But the drives were beautiful; this is all hill country and although the height of the ~~college~~ had been (I was assured) a week before, there were beautiful hues everywhere. And around Keuka Lake and Seneca Lake, the lengths of which I more or less drove, the vineyards were still heavy with purple clusters waiting to be picked. I was lucky in my weather, and it only sprinkled once. But when I woke Thursday morning the thermometer stood at 32°F.

I have never done anything of this sort before. There are seven colleges which get together and take lecturers on a circuit of two or three ~~among them~~ thus getting, at least by anticipation, better names. One gave a public lecture plus going to classes. The fee for the week and three appearances was $1500, plus expenses. Which is far more than Yale pays for visiting lecturers, I must say. The colleges are all small ones, indeed I had heard of none of them, and the students mostly those who couldn't get in elsewhere. But I must say the students were nice, interested and luckily for me not too intellectual. One was supposed to sparkle the faculty too, and although I doubt that they were either sparked or sparkled, all were remotely enough situated to seem to be pleased to have someone come in from outside. Almost like the fishing villages on the East coast of Greenland.

The exhausting part came from never really unpacking, and having almost always to go from one class directly to another and then to a coffee hour and then to a dinner and then to give a lecture and then to a party. So that when one had kept a smile on one's face for so long a span, and tried to make them feel you were glad to be there (as indeed I was), at the end of the day or even the next morning~~ one stays in one's shell~~.

However I managed to get two tasks done, as well, even at the cost of your letters. One was to read Donald Hall's ms of his book on Marianne, which he had asked me to do. I found a few factual errors and a few overcutenesses in his presentation, so perhaps it was worthwhile for him. And I almost managed to finish the H.D. number which I have never thanked for. The Norman Brown who wrote the psychoanalytic analysis certainly modified his text after my marginal comments on the original. Most of the worst of what he said has now been corrected. I have not read the unfavorable essay but I think the issue will do Hilda good, by calling her to more people's attention.

And oh yes, yesterday afternoon after my 1 p.m. lecture I was taken to Elmira where I could see the octagonal study (a garden house built like a pilot's house) where Mark worked each summer at his -in-laws. Then I was left at the airport at 4 p.m. for a 7.45 p.m. plane. It was a long wait.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

I waited patiently for a glimpse of Governor Rockefeller who was to fly in to give a speech, but when he actually arrived I must have been looking the wrong way or down at my pork chop, for I missed him.

I did not however miss the Steuben Glass works, and the historical
collection of glass which Corning has assembled. I know of no better one any-
where in the world.

Not a great deal apparently happened while I was away. But at least
the new dry wells have been finished, as well as new drains and a cement approach
to the garage in town so as to, we hope, keep the water from flooding the
garage floor each heavy rain or melting snow. They have doubled the catch
basins in size and put in a larger run-off pipe, and increased the dry wells.
All this is part of my campaign to put things in order, and my last week's
trip will nearly pay for the costs. Now the only remaining thing to be done
this year is to install a new tub and *basin* in one of the upstairs bathrooms
at the second house at the shore which we give the girls to use. I had some
storm doors *fixed* too so that they would close. I don't mind making the trips
for lectures so long as things of this sort need doing. But with *inflation*
likely it seems better to get done now rather than later.

My mind does jump back to the trip. At Hartwick College my chief day
was *Moxratorium* Day, and in the classroom sessions I was mostly asked questions
about whether or not I believed in war, whether joint action or single action
was better, whether I approved of Thoreau's Civil Disobedience (*turned* the
aphorism that civil disobedience demands personal obedience, by which I meant
that one really had tobe completely true to one's self or the civil disobedience
carried no virtue.

Your letters from just before the departure from Kenwin until Pup's
arrival at the Sesame were waiting for me, along with (as you can well imagine)
a desk full of other missives. I shall have to dictate like mad later today
and tomorrow, but for once I must have time for you. But where shall I send
this. I think I dare risk the Brigadier's rather than Scilly, for Ethel will
at least forward it on. I was much amused by Kenneth's letters about Philip's
bungalow. And am glad I had taken the photographs to show you. There's no
doubt but that Kenneth wins the competition, but at moments he does sound like
one lady poet, "speaking quite frankly, my dear", describing the verse of another
lady poet. * Among the many letters waiting for me was one from the H.D. fan
who visited Collins from Canterbury. I mentioned White and Collins as possi-
bilities since they both like to talk. * Am glad Sylva agrees to cutting out
the post-marriage sections of Petrie's book. I think it is best under any
circumstances.

I like to think of Ines at the circus and shall be eager for your ver-
sion of her version after your return. * I apologize again for all the lacunae
in correspondence. I should do better now, or at least until I set off in a
fortnight for Toledo and the national meeting of the American Studies Associ-
ation. * You had not mentioned that Inmos had brought you an orchid, but I
know this is an occasional event--I had thought chiefly at Christmas. * You
introduced me, Colin McInnis's *Absolute Beginners* which I particularly admired.
More than the other one of his I read. I believe his brother wrote an
interesting memoir of Australia. * Glad to be reminded of the American magazines
you subscribe to. I am more or less sure but often fudge. * Your Kronenhalle
pilgrimage sounded as marvelous as ever. I am a devoted fan. *And I apologize
that the typewriter I brought you behaved so badly in Zurich. * I might or might
not have enjoyed the Japanese exhibition. We have a good bit of art around,
but much is flimsy. I remember that you once hoped to get out there, when you
thought I slay might accompany you--and Kenneth--but that would have given you
the chance to get at the people themselves. * Glad that the things to be

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

be changed in the new novel were not absolutely vital. Like Henry James you
must have your revisions and rewritings ready for your collected works. * One
could do Aldermanbury easily in three or four days. Four probably. It would
be fun. * I was interested to find you had found the cases at the depository
to contain Hilda's things, and fortunate that Perdita could be there to go
over them with you. I think on the whole now I would ship out everything
to Switzerland, close out the depository. * One really can't tell whether
Noel Coward would be really interested in K's play, or not. Coward likes
Kenneth and their gay parties together and would express interest for this
reason if for no other; likewise, a producer and actor is always ready for
the "chance" that an idea could be used, perhaps worked over by someone
else. I remember that K particularly admires Coward, who is indeed fun to
be with, and so must be pleased at Coward's offer. I still insist that the
refusal of the novel and the non-instant success of the play had a lot to do
with his melancholia. He needs to have something to be modest about.

If this gets to you at Tregoning, give my love to Kenneth L and Ethel
and Pup. And to yourself, it goes without saying.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

19 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I think I dare trust this letter too, in care of the Brigadier, but
tomorrow's will go to the Sesame. I still pray your forgiveness for the silence
but as you know there was the double problem of time--time in which to write,
and time for the letter to get to any spot where you alighted. I had intended
one sent long in advance to the Scillies.

We were out to dinner last night at the René Welleks, he a critic
and she a newish wife (Russian emigré who spent most of WW-Two in a German
prison camp). James Osborne, the collector, whom you have met with us in London,
and the Eugene Waiths. We were home reasonably early, and the conversation
was nonessential but pleasant.

This morning after Susan had done her chores we went to the shore
so that I could pick up my chair from the sitting room (broken by some firmly
seating guest) and have it repaired and returned this Fall. Susan will be too
busy when she comes back next June. Then I chose what summer things I needed
for the Japanese trip. And afterwards I walked the line, or tried to, of the
property across the road. I wanted to be sure where my property ended on
the lagoon side, but am still not quite sure. A red ribbon on a tree showed
the surveyor had been there but not the direction to the water from the ribbon.

I forgot yesterday to thank you for the *Alcamenes* (Hilda's) which
very much ought to be with the rest of her books. Also for the issue of the
Poetry Review which I am always glad to get. I rather think it has picked
up in quality recently, although Stevie Smith's poems wouldn't be the reason.

Two bound volumes of the *Girls Own Annual* arrived, vols 1 and 36.
The first at least has a Gordon Stables in it. Mrs H is still typing away at
the cards listing his contributions to the various other serials we already
have. I offered the list to the bibliographer of Stables, but he has never
answered the letter.

A yellowback came while I was gone. Chester will surely be pleased
with your gifts. He is a serious collector, and I suspect that when anything
happens to Marianne you will be his chief emotional outlet. No harm in that,
especially when you move to the States. * A rather sad letter I thought from
Miss Hulbert, slipping from her chair and lying helpless. * It was rather fun
reading Philip's letter to you about the coming to him of the Boys. I really am
glad I had the photographs to show you. * Margery Hicks letter was interesting,
but it is really up to her publisher whether or not the book should be published
in the States. Obviously it won't be, and is a compliment that they want to
list it. * I was surprised to see a letter from Dr Blumberg; I don't remember
having seen one from him for a long time.

I must go back now to my dictating machine and have some tapes ready
for Mrs H's arrival tomorrow morning

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

20 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

At the moment I feel very much like a rat race. A visit to the doctor for shots the first thing this morning and then a stop at the postoffice to buy some new stamps for your envelopes. One of the two I could get are on this letter. I will use it twice so you can give Ethel one set and the Queen Mother the other.

Part of the morning went into going over last week's absence with Mrs H (I forgot that the horn of my car doesn't work so I took the car to the garage and must fetch it before going home), and the rest into preparing my afternoon seminar on Emerson's poetry. Fortunately the class did go all right, I guess, and at least that is over. But tonight is the first meeting of the Historical Society, and as head of the program committee I must introduce the speaker---this time on Chinese painting on glass for the export trade. Tomorrow is filled to the brim with appointments, and how, oh how, will I get both Wednesday's seminar prepared, and my last of the three talks to be given at Hofstra University on Thursday prepared. I can see at least one of the next two after-dinners spent in coming back to the office.

Your letter of the 17th came in today's mail. You speak of Pup's literary party with the young man nursing an 8-month old baby. I presume you mean at the breast in the sense ordinarily implied by the word, and cannot blame Perdita for being surprised.

Actually your day sounded like a quiet one, and you may want to turn to your next door neighbor for company. The books you found alas sound only mildly interesting.

I hope Rosemarie was well. Rosemarie, I mean. But your next letter will have told me all.

Much love as always,

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

A day of very little exhilaration. I did however begin by exercise. It was the first time I had been at the gym since I left for the Finger Lakes. Already I was beginning to feel muscle-bound as I stood. From then on I had appointments with students, followed by luncheon with my ex-student, the Indian, who gave me additional instruction on Red Power (the Indian equivalent of Black Power). I think he likes reversing the earlier relationship of teacher to student. And then from luncheon on I have been chiefly on the phone, from Florida to Indiana, trying to fulfill my function as chairman of the nominating committee for the national American Studies Association. A good reason for being on the committee is that no one, therefore, can nominate me for anything. The national convention comes at the end of next week. I shall have to go out to Toledo on that Thursday, stay until Saturday afternoon, and then go on to Washington for a meeting of the Smithsonian Council, coming back on a Tuesday.

Just now however my worries are this immediate Thursday when I must go to Hofstra for three lectures in the afternoon and evening. I shall be a wreck. One is Hathorne in His Letters (easy), one is on the Three Bibles for the Young (but I must come back tonight to retype my notes from the once I gave it last week), and the third (at their suggestion) on Is Poetry Dead? I myself will be a corpse anyhow, for I have done nothing on the last of these three.

Last night's lecture at the Historical Society on Chinese painting on glass, and watercolors, for the Western market went well, though I dozed a bit when the lights went out. We had the speaker back at the house afterwards, with others, for a drink. So I am not quite fresh as a daisy.

A letter came today from a Mrs Alice Hansen, 460 West 24th Street, NYC 10011 (if you care to write her) telling of Ady's Glosses death. She wrote: "Mother--Ada Gloss--asked me to answer your letter of September 12th and to tell you that she was ill. She was indeed more ill than she knew, and she died September 28th. She became ill and went to the hospital on August 26th. Fortunately my husband and I had arrived for a visit the day before and were with her throughout this ordeal. In the hospital it was found that she had a cancerous obstruction in the colon. Within the week she was operated on, and for fourteen days it appeared that she was going to be well again. But then her condition worsened and it seemed as if she lost her desire to live. You should know that she suffered only briefly and that she died peacefully in her sleep."

Ady was, I think, lucky, to go this way; I know she felt she had lived long enough. I liked her immensely. I can never forget the meal she served you and me; it was dumpling generosity and affection, for any friends of George.

The check for Hilda's royalties from Southern Illinois came this morning and so I can deposit it. And your account from the Co-op also arrived; you have a balance of $122.09 which should let you buy several books even at inflated prices. And so did your two letters of the 16th and 17th. I was pleased that Kenneth's report was so good. One does wonder about Valentine--as I told you neither Susan nor I seem to be able to contact, yet he does have friends such as those he goes to Europe with. At his age there may well be sexual implications but of course the variety is limitless and indefinable. Susan will be much interested to know about Worth's; if they had good insurance they may well be pleased to be able to start over again with fresh stock. * You say there was no need to have evacuated the Sesame at the time of the fire. But don't you think your bathrobed neighbor really wanted to say halloo to lots of people?

Your tale of the treatment of Rosemary's boyfriend is unbelievable. But it is true that some psychiatrists get so involved with the patient that they never think of others whom the treatment may also involve Nor do I think they are always good questioners, or they would have been able to know Rosemary's condition. In any event why should they brutalize her even to save him. I suppose LSD is thought to be an equivalent of shock treatment or hypnosis Actually, to prove I am no better at analysis than they, the man sounds very much like a thwarted homosexual who tries to deny this by excessive assertion of what he thinks is masculinity--e.g. marriage and verbal sadism. A much better testing would have been to send him to a male brothel and let him decide whether he wanted to go back. It is a shorter trip than LSD and less expensive. It would indeed be good for Rosemary to talk it out of herself, and perhaps she might with Lettice. She certainly would with you. In any event this would have to be with a woman, lest in her confession she transfer to the male audience.

I saw O.B.'s unlucky review in the TLS. I thought the review altogether snide.

Good luck with Ainsworth if you to go to Maggs. My research friend on Henty has given me two of our missing American first editions of Henty, and perhaps a third (I am not sure about the date).

One hopes the weather is good for you; if not wear a warm dog blanket.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

22 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I look up at you with awe and envy. How do you manage your adventures!

And to think of all this happening in Picadilly. If the papers did not carry an
account of what happened I think you must ask the police. A story like this has to
have a footnote if not an ending. But I must say I think the whole event entirely
remarkable. I like very much the brigadier type with his sharp words. One wonders
if they were effective. The boys must have been green with jealousy; I am.

It was good to know that things went so well with the trunks. Kenneth
must obviously be pleased with his things, and I am sure that Perdita is with hers.
What does the last half trunk contain? I should get rid of that as soon as possible,
perhaps the next trip. But this, on top of Melitta's visit really adds up. Or
should one say takes away.

The Queenwood tea I shall be anxious to hear about (as you can guess, your
letter of the 18th arrived this morning), and of your lunch with Lettice. * I was
sorry Kenneth looked less well; I suspect he tires easily, and London was gay for
all of you.

A quiet day today. I came back to the office last night and typed out
most of the notes for a talk tomorrow at Hofstra College, on Long Island. I shall
finish that set of notes after this letter. Then I have the third one, on Poetry
to do. It is really a chore ahead of me. I take the 9 o'clock bus to LaGuardia
where a car from Hofstra will meet me at 11. Lunch is at noon. Then from 1:30 to
2:30 I talk informally on poetry to a New College at Hofstra (an experimental
unit); at 3 I give a general lecture to the university under the sponsorship of
the English department. And at 8:15 at night a talk to the Library Associates
of their rare book library. As my letter nicely put it. "Please note that this
gives you time for a leisurely lunch, and for cocktails before dinner without
rushing." Says they! The dinner I gather is only semi-formal, but even semi
is more than enough. I did the evening talk as a gesture for a friend. Hofstra
then arranged the other two talks for smallish fees, and since they had done so
before consulting me I couldn't very well say no. But I shall be dead.

There was the gymn this morning and then getting ready for my Hawthorne
seminar. Your letter and a few others arrived, little of note. I shall probably
not be able to write tomorrow unless I am still on my feet at the end of the day
in the motel where I shall stay overnight. Then the airport limousine back to New
Haven. I suggested the limousine since I have no idea where Hofstra is and don't
wish to get lost trying to find it before noon, or exhausted driving either way.

Lizzie called her mother this morning and said that her tv announced
it was snowing in Boston.

My greetings to any you meet. And my love to you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

This would be chiefly for the record if there were anything
to record. I did write you last night, after midnight, from Long Island
but when I had put the letter in the box this morning I saw that the
only collection at the hotel was at 5:45 tonight. So when it will have
found its way from the hotel to your club is a matter of snailish specu-
lation. Still it had little to record except an outline of the three
talks I gave yesterday at Hofstra University. Two talks in the after-
noon and another at night. At the evening address to the Friends of
the Hofstra Library I was introduced as having a Henty collection.
Afterwards a nice old man came up, said he had a bookstore and wanted
to make me a gift of a Henty if he had anything I lacked. It was rather
touched by this.

This morning I made my way back to LaGuardia by means of
what had been called an airport limousine but turned out to be a taxi.
I am getting to be a long-distance taxi driver. Anyhow it got me after
three-quarters of an hour to the Washington shuttle terminal where I
waited another half hour for the bus to New Haven, arriving home at
noon. I had a sandwich with Susan, came back, ran thru my mail until
it was time for an oral examination for the doctorate and am glad to
say that this time the man (a different one) passed. But this used up
the afternoon and it is now after six. We go at seven for dinner with
the Hamermans, though I could happily have stayed at home.

A wonderful group of five letters was waiting for me but
I shall answer them tomorrow morning. About the use of psychodelic
drugs by psychiatrists, however, I was reading Tom Wolfe's *Cool Acid
Test*, at last, on the limousine trip to New Haven, and saw that at
the sanitarium in California where Kesey worked and also served as
a guinea pig they were experimenting with the use of LSD as a way
of releasing the patient from fears of himself or others. And Leary
of course was doing experiments at Harvard with just this sort of
relationship to psychiatric treatment. So it could be that Rosemary's
baby boy actually received an avant garde therapy of this sort. All
of which is not to defend its use and certainly not its consequences
if Keysey's later life on the bus, or Leary's later life on the bust
are any criteria. Perhaps you should warn Lettice that the man may
not have been lying after all, for to be wrong on this point would
only arouse Rosemary's antagonism.

The weather is on the cold side. Susan said the thermometer
was 25°F this morning when she got up, and has not gone beyond 45° during
the day. We go to the football game tomorrow and will have to bundle up.

This is as I say only a promissory note not a letter, except
that it does bring you

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

25 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I am just recovering from a ten minute telephone call to
Indiana, on which the man at the other end simply wouldn't stop talking.
I am not very garrulous on the phone in any case but my blood curdled
when I thought how the bill was rising. Fortunately since it was about
national American Studies Association matters I can change the cost to
my business expenses and de-curble somewhat,

There was no letter from you today, but a yellowback was
waiting yesterday which I did not read until now. Interesting but mostly
taken care of between us in other ways. I thought Mrs Lindburgh's letter
most attractive, and was frightened by Helen's account of her sister.
Obviously Germans suffer from the same callousness from doctors that
other places also do. It was lucky that Helen could take over. * I
picked up Michael Williams' letter from Whangerei with anticipation.
But he said almost nothing about New Zealand so I gained little from
it. * The letter from Dean reminded me that I had not talked to Prof
Purdy to see if he had actually told her that none of the letters she
sent him were by Hardy at all. She will be much disappointed by the
news of course, but it was certainly kind of her to take the trouble
to dig them out. And of course the mystery of the letters she had, or
said she had, has been solved by the explanation that there were none
in the first place.

Like an absolute idiot I forgot your batch of letters at
home when I came to the office and so will have to postpone any comment
on them until tomorrow. I forgot too a copy of the Washington book
review with a review of Moorehead's *Darwin* in it by Sir Gavin. He might
like the extra copy after you have read it. I suspect however I had
better wait to send it until it can go to Kenwin.

Last night's dinner at the Hamermans was pleasant. They had
asked our friends the Prowns (he is the head of the new Mellon collection
of British Art which is to come to Yale). This afternoon we go to the
football game with Cornell and tonight to the theater. I will not be any
more rested by the weekend. Though daylight savings goes off Sunday
morning and we are given an extra hour.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

What a Sunday. I have slogged away at the office and my desk begins to be cleaner. I had wanted to go to Hartford for the opening of an exhibition of Eskimo carving from a private collection but with some for sale. Susan would go, but then I thought of how I have to leave town for Toledo next Thursday and beggone until the following Tuesday night. Last week was sheer confusion and my desk showed it. So the higher morality won out. Anyhow had I gone I might have been tempted to buy something, and this I musn't. I find I shall have to put in a new washbowl in the upstairs bathroom at Goodrich Street I use. The stopper simply won't stay up, it being so old it has worn smooth, and the plumber says nothing can be done. I fear a Doris-flood and cannot go through the rest of my life removing the stopper whenever I quit the room. T

Tape after tape, well anyhow fair tapes, have been done. Bills paid. Check book balanced, and the like. But balancing checkbooks reminded me that you have still not cashed the $1.00 check for Vaud which I sent you last July. Each month I carry it still as outstanding. I remember suggesting that you deposit it in your New York account. It would be a little less work for me if you would.

The football game yesterday was fun of course because Yale won easily, 14-0, and Cornell which had averaged over 350 yards each game was held to 22, their star back being bottled. Susan went with me; it was her first game. Then at night we went to the theater to see a musical, I Do, I Do. It was, I am afraid not very good although it was a change to see something on the stage where a married couple was reasonably happy. It was played by only two people who had not very good songs to sing. It had had a long run on Broadway. Anyhow the time passed.

Among the letters I answered today was one from Sylva Norman. She said she had had the pages xeroxed and sent off to me surface, but they paid the postage first class which was silly. She had omitted her introduction, the table of contents, the dedication and title pages and things of that sort. Alas, this is just where the designer's design comes in. So much to my regret I have asked if that material couldn't come too. I suppose she has had more experience with editing and the like than she has had with actual bookmaking. As a proof-reader I am sure she is a whiz, however. I am talking simply about book design.

I'm pleased that Pup liked Vaud: I feel sure many will. Odd how people press for sequels and explanations. It was Hawthorne's curse, and he was forced to add a paragraph or two to the second edition of The Marble Faun. He knew it spoiled the book to do so, and it does. No, you were writing an episode, and part of the correct mood is that one does not know the future--neither the characters nor you who begot them. * I thought the Queenwood tea went better than I expected it might. But hard on Ethel I think * I did however regret your day of debarment from the Sesame. I always feel lost when this happens, and if for too late at night keep the room for the extra day. * I do envy you your boat rides on the Scillies. It must have been great sport and I hope not too cold.

Susan showed me today with great pride the blue orchid she got when you insisted she spend all of a $100 gift for a single orchid. It loved the wet of this past summer apparently and has burst into a spectacular set of blossoms. So have many of the others. She is enormously pleased and grateful to you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

27 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Your letter from Tregarthen's arrived this morning, not at all
bad time as from the Scillies. I am so immensely pleased that your visit
has turned out well. To show the islands to Pup must have been great fun,
and of course you have had Hilda Quick, and Ethel and Dean and Perdita all
together in one net. I remember our visit to the Wakefields but think we
did not penetrate into their living room.

I risk this and perhaps one more to the Sesame. Or two. But
after Thursday when I leave for Toledo I suspect I shall be posting to you
at Kenwin, not being sure whether you return by way of Ireland or not.

I was, as I wrote you, all day Sunday at the office, and I notice
now at the end of Monday that Mrs H still has most of the pile of dictation
to do. Just as well for I have had no time to add more today. I began at
the gymnasium, then worked at my afternoon seminar on Thoreau's poetry, had
lunch with Archibald MacLeish's son now working for Yale as a presidential
assistant--he wanted to know what I thought about their doing this or that,
which at least flattered me. Then the seminar and then an American Studies
meeting at which, I am glad to say, my Norwegian student's dissertation was
accepted. And now after a fruitless telephone call or two I have my usual
fifteen minutes in which to write you.

Your royalty statement for the last six months at Harcourt came
in--a total check for $119.47 which I shall deposit to your account. The
tally of hardcover sales was: for *Carthage*, 180 copies; for *Artemis*, 17;
For *January*, 86; and for *Avalon*, 150. Of the paperback edition of *Carthage*
61 copies were sold. Of the English edition of *Artemis*, 4 copies had been
sold.

Young Susan brought her two children for a roast of lamb last
night, and they all seemed to have a good time. I thought Susan more relaxed
as though she were settling in with her work at the Public Health office of the
city. I shall be away next Saturday so I am having Justus take his grandmother
to the football game.

We are to the theater again tonight, to see *Rosencrantz and Guilder
stern*. It plays only the first three nights of the week, tonight's seats are
at a reduced rate, and we have an old friend of mine coming for dinner tomorrow
night. Life is, to say the least, a little crowded.

It is sad to think that your holiday is nearly over and that you
must get back to householding again. But I daresay there will be more than
enough visitors streaming through.

28 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

I should hate to re-read my letters to you, for the exercise
would develop into nothing but a comparison of my daily squeeze. And yet,
each variation would be a form of the truth. Today it has been the late after-
noon meeting of the English professors as they voted their doctoral candidates
into heaven or out of it. I waited until the name came up of the man whose
dissertation on Wallace Stevens I had read, and when he was approved by the
vote then I made my way out of the room, leaving the rest to consider the
rest. But Mrs Hamerman kindly stayed late in order to do more of the letters
I had taped on Sunday, and now having the chance to get to the typewriter I
could not not write you.

At six an old friend Leon Howard, from Los Angeles, who has come
here to see me and Leyda, comes to the office and goes home for dinner and the
evening with me. Not precisely the most convenient time of the year for me,
but he is in the East on a Phi Beta Kappa lecture tour.

Last night we saw Rosenkrantz and Guilderstern. I was tired and
dozed for a bit in the first act, but thus refreshed watched the rest of it
with some interest. But I found it too verbal, in the sense that the dialogue
of the absurd used the same rhetorical tricks over and over whether at Elsinore
or on shipboard. "Where shall we go?" "Who's we?" and thus on to a discussion
of identity. But one might just as well have questioned where's where. I
redeemed the evening somewhat by watching the last half of a football game on
tv after we got back, although this kept me up later than I would otherwise.

Your letters of the 23rd and 24th came today in reverse order. I
do understand how sad it must have been for you to see Tremelethen, but one is
glad that Dean has at last been able to sell it. Perhaps it was a pity the
Prince didn't choose it. That would have been fun as well as profitable. (By
the way, I found out at the professors' meeting that Dean had had her answer
and had answered in return. So all is apparently well on that score.) * I
profess astonishment that there can still be blackberries on the Scillies,
an obvious affidavit to its sub]tropical ocean streams. * You must have felt
rather like a blackberry yourself in all your splendid Scillies uniform. I
only wish you might have been photographed. And nice too that Pup likes the
islands. * It was bad luck that you could not take your second boat ride, but
all the better as excuse for another visit with Perdita, perhaps even with the
two youngest.

29 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

Today Mrs Hamerman brought back a 1970 engagement book for me to begin to put entries into for January. It is sad to think another year is so nearly passed. But one must be brave.

Our guest last night did not leave until 12:30. I left him at the Graduate Club and drove off. He spent a half hour trying to rouse someone to let him in to the room I had engaged and he had seen, but no one came. So he had to walk across the Green to the Hotel Taft and slept there. This morning the Club gave him a key. Because of the 12:30 and clearing up later I must admit to be a little tired this morning and was rather perfunctory with my weight lifting at the gymnasium. Indeed I only seemed to get going in the hour before my seminar, after lunch; fortunately the seminar went well, or seemed to. Now I must begin to get ready to take my departure tomorrow morning for Toledo. I rather fear that this is the last letter I shall chance to the Sesame, especially if you leave for your visit to the Major. I rather hope you will, nuisance though it must be. For it will cheer Robin up no end to have some one to point out things to. Anyhow my letters from Toledo and Washington will be a little chancy, so had better go straight to Kenwin without risking one to the Glock.

Your good letter of the 26th from Tregoning came today, and I liked thinking that at long last you had had a letter from me. There will have been others waiting for you at the Sesame. I envy you having seen the relics from the Penzance dig. I rather think this is the subject of the book the Brigadier sent me recently but which I have not yet had a chance to read. * I had wondered about the orchid, knowing Inmos made this his Christmas gift or homage. And of course you must be relieved to have gotten rid of so much of what was in storage. Kenneth and Pup will feel like pirates. * Three Bibles for the Young? Catcher in the Rye. Catch-22. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Three books which served at least, in succession, as bibles or parables or gospels. I tried to see what they had in common.

I must rush to get this in before the next collection.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

6 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I wrote neither on Tuesday nor yesterday, and feel much in disgrace.
But I am at least back now, more or less as you return to Kenwin, and will be staying
at home I hope from now on. At least I have no present speaking engagements, altho
I shall have to make a trip or two to New York for visas. I have no regrets at all
for being sedentary. Quite frankly I am tired and a bit under the weather as well.
Tomorrow when I go for my prick I shall ask the doctor to check up on me. And my desk!
If only you could see the confusion of it, and the pile of letters that accumulated
during my most recent absence. The challenge is there; I only wish I could avoid it.

I did write a late-at-night letter on Monday from Washington, but will
have to try to fill in the details of my last trip in the next few letters. For not
much will happen to me here and I shall be glad of something to interest you even
slightly.

A most welcome pile of letters from you greeted me late Tuesday afternoon
when I stopped in at the office to pick up my mail. Yours from the 29th to the 1st.
I am much interested that Hope's newest ms of a novel looked so promising as a best
seller (at least to her). I only hope she is not disappointed. Your South African
friend's newest is to come out at the beginning of December and I will airmail you a
copy as an early Christmas gift. It has been chosen by the Book of the Month Club, and
so Schiffrin is naturally pleased. He had nothing to do with getting her (Helen did
that) but he is around for the harvest. * Curious that Horace is revising an earlier
book review on you--this is a new scheme about which I knew nothing. I wonder if he
has finished his memoirs? If and as Helen can send him a copy, fine; but he may have
to wait some time for this. I have not yet phoned Helen to know how she is. * I'm
glad Weinberg is reprinting your article. Of course you have my permission, but I
imagine he must want much more for a book devoted to your criticism. You write, "It
would be for inclusion in an anthology of writings by me that is appearing next spring
under the collective title of *Cinema Saint Cinema*." It is an honor to have a book of
your film criticism, but I think we ought to warn Helen since normally she would have
the option on any new book or collection by you. If it were only one of your articles
in an anthology containing the work of other people as well, she need not be consulted.
If Anro and the Museum of Modern Art are reprinting Close Up, there will be at least
two reprints of it. And, oh yes, the copyright position of your article is not obscure,
as you put it. You never took out a copyright, nor did the magazine. I presume you
and Kenneth wished to have everything go into the public domain immediately. * I can
sympathize with your problem of moving the trunk, but am delighted that it can be of
use and what fun for it to see Borneo. I am almost jealous. * I mean to phone Pup
tomorrow and see how she is. I sent her and John today a copy of the anthology as
well as of the Wisconsin issue. Also a copy of the anthology for Valentine and for
Nicholas (the latter directly to Choate). I will see they have an issue of the magazine
when my extra copies come. I fear I never heard of the musical for which Pup and
John were angels. * Don't worry about an eskimaux spinkerie. They really have nothing
in that line, and their prices are exorbitant. You have done far too much for me already. * I will take out a subscription for the New Yorker for Agnes L. The Co-op
would only be confused. Then I will one day charge a book for the same amount to your
Co-op account, so the gift will be from you. * The Philby cutting wins a best-in-show
award. I shall xerox and send along to Washington, where I discussed him this last trip.
I suppose there is an impishness of the peevish in the club but I fear not enough to
give it an element either of humor or sincerity. * I am of course much excited about the
Osbert ms which most seriously belo gs with your archives and therefore eventually at
Yale alongside Edith's ms. I imagine it would fetch a good price especially from
Texas, which has so much of their family papers. They are not much in demand at the
moment but will be again. * I am glad you had your visit with Sylva. She simply will

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

not realize the relationship of her diet to the condition of her bones and muscles. A smattering of biology would have been as valuable to her as the study of biography. 300 or 500 copies, it doesn't much matter in cost, but I should agree 500 as a maximum. * I am sorry about Margaret Phillips's bad luck. Were circumstances different you and I ought to set up another publishing firm for the aid of the needy autobiographer. We really could work up an interesting series. The trouble however is not with the publishing but the distribution.

Picking up another and more delayed envelope I see that yours of the 26th from Tregoning came but out of order. I prickle with pleasure that you could have gotten back to your beloved Scillies. specially out of season, when it could be all the more yours.

The letter of the 2nd was in still another envelope, and I was much interested in Lettice's view of Rosemary's affair. I still think that the man has a combination of strong infantilism in him, which carries itself out in a compensatory pseudo-heterosexuality as a defense against a more instinctive homosexuality. At any rate whatever the basis may be he is certainly nothing less than sadistic in his treatment of her.

You did tell me about Henry Dobbs. One of my jobs for Mrs H during my absence is to index Close-Up and especially to be sure we can identify all signatures by initials. I want this for your sake as well as Hilda's, so you must be a good Fido and help me even when your tail drags.

A Swiss yellowback came as well, but the chief letter was 'slay's about the garden wall. I wonder if I will not be sorry to have the woods and lower skyline and vista shut off for the sake of raming the roses. But I daresay it is more manorial this way. Buen speaking manorially I shiver when I think of the expenses involved even though the gesture of the plans was generous. Bulldozers and stone masons gobble ducats.

How good it is to sit down at a typewriter again, and be with you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

7 October 1969

Dearest Fido,

It has rained all week and tomorrow's football game is almost certainly to be spoiled. And of course it is dark; at 3:30 it was like night. Still, despite the elements I kept to my chores and went to the bank in the early afternoon to deposit your royalty check so that it would gain dividends as of the 1st of the month. Deposits up until the 10th are as of the 1st. I am glad to say you now have $22,627.12 in your savings account (before taxes of course), a substantial sum to have earned by your pen. I took Hilda's royalty check also and deposited it, so that she now has $1,837.41.

It then went on to the doctor's for my flu shot and the chance to check up on my suspicions. Alas, he finds that I have a bleeding ulcer again so it is fortunate I checked. I had blood tests taken to see what the count was, and we wait for the results and other evidences to see whether I must go into the hospital for transfusions and rest. But I shall have to go on a bland diet, cancel my several engagements for the weekend, etc. I do feel sorry for Susan; it is such a bore to have to eat alongside a blanded companion. I had felt a bit low, as I may have written, and slightly on the faint side. Fortunately however I have no pain and I daresay if I keep care of myself for a bit I shall be as fit as a fiddle once again. Don't worry; I should have said nothing had our relationship been other than it is. Mrs H will keep the office going and I shall take stacks of things home to read over the weekend. I am only sorry there is still so much unanswered mail. If I do have to stick to the house I may move my dictating machine there.

A letter has come from Havsteen-Mikkelsen the Danish sculptor. He seems happy. "At long last I can now tell you that the casting of the relief should have started and that it is promised to be finished before Christmas--ready to be shipped for Greenland by the first connection in the spring. Knud Krogh, who has been away the whole summer, and I have had a meeting and planned the whole affair. Alborg shipyard, which is keenly interested, and I think rather proud of the job, will be taking photographs while the various figures materialize (they may be amusing for you to have), and want to make an exhibition of those as well as of my sketches. One of the engineers will come with Knud Krogh and I to Greenland in June to put it up, which I am very pleased about. I maintain that it must be children-proof, and so firmly fixed on the rock that it can stand that local youngsetrs use it for climbing. I'll keep you in touch and hope this finds you in good health."

In one of the yellowbacks a letter from Åtha asks for information about American playgrounds and the games they play in them. Shall I start a search for you for her? I am sure I can dig up something, and if this helps her to feel more "in" I should certainly be happy to do so.

I hope Ines is well. Greet her, and of course Marie Anne.

My dearest love,

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

10 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

This is rather a sneaked letter. I was allowed to come down to teach my seminar but under strict orders to return at once home afterwards. Still, what I could scribble to you yesterday must have been a pain to receive. You deserve every few days at least a decently typed note. For I fear there is not much more than enough for a note. I have tried to be good, until now, and eaten nothing but soft foods, which I am held to for a few more days at least. Yet I am glad to say that the doctor does not seem to be unduly alarmed at my blood count, and it is the bleeding which counts most. Even Mrs H thought I looked a bit better this afternoon, and Susan thinks likewise. The doctor has not seen me but I have an appointment at his office on Wednesday afternoon before my seminar at 4, so that he can make new tests. There is little point in his coming to the house for his equipment is not there, and the charge for house calls is enormous.

Speaking of charges, and to correct myself, I find in a new letter from washington that I will be getting closer to 5,000 than to 3,000 for Japan. But still it is a tremendous cut, I am sorry to say. But I can manage quite nicely; I am only rubbed by the irritation.

Your letters of the 4th and 5th were on my desk. I was glad that you were going, and I am glad that you went. The best news is that he has picked up again with the estate. Petrie liked it, but he loves it--after all it is his family. Indeed simply as an investment it is good he pays attention to it. I envy you your walk around the lake, which I see still as clearly as though I were there.

The children were very good last night; we watched television and they played games with each other. The little girl loves poetry she says and wanted me to read Robert Frost to her. They have been in school today; little Susan then goes to her music lesson and Justus to his pottery class. Tomorrow is a school holiday, but their grandmother will find something for them. I am in the midst of reading a dissertation on Yeats. The fourth I have had to read this year, which is a splendid sufficiency. Our only excitement was early this morning. We had forgotten to warn little Susan about the alarm, she let Oskar out of the kitchen door before I came down, and the police were soon there. No scoldings, it was our fault.

It still rains and is said to be going to continue tomorrow. A bleak November if ever there was one.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

13 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

You will, I fear, simply have to wait a day or two longer before you get a proper letter from me. I did not quite "sneak" out to the office today but slipped in after hours and a visit to the travel agent about arrangements for our February visit. This latter was long overdue, but I had been away so much, and then indisposed, so that I waited until yesterday's clearance from the doctor before laying down the revisions of the agent's earlier suggestions. But I will go into all that later.

I had a small piece of steak last night after writing you of my emancipation (partial) proclamation, but have kept more or less on a slimey regime since. But of course I was relieved that things had gone so well in so comparatively short a time, and the doctor himself was positively beaming. I am a wretched non-patient, but once taken am as good as fool's gold. I am to be allowed to come into the office more next week, and after that one simply sees how the game is. I get a little tired even now but feel better all the time. So you must not worry, if indeed you have. Yet I am amused to see what a good prophet you were in the letter from you I read today--those of the 6th and 7th and 10th and 11th-- the ones in between from Zurich came yesterday-- when you said I would really be ill if I didn't take care. How right you were!

I won't try to go into detail to your letters now, but wait until the weekend when I can come quietly. But I am amused that MacDowell sent you a book. he is a friend I suppose, but I have not seen him for many years. He was with Random House for a bit and then with Laughlin at New Directions. I can only imagine he wants a blurb from you. Give it if you want, but it is quite appropriate to say you never do give them. Or I can, if you wish, write this for you. He will understand.

How honored you are to have a Vaud. I certainly haven't had one, nor any news from Helen since her return. Naturally enough I suppose for she must be incredibly busy.

The Ballinamona affair is really a serious one, and I rather hope you won't get too involved in it. For then you too will be a creditor, otherwise helping only the ex-husband of OOnagh. It does all seem very much like a modern society novel, with its entanglements, and worthy of a novel by someone other than yourself. But how can one blame Petrie or OOnagh or even David, so involved in roles was each of them.

As to Hope, Ireland is a kind of Avalon, and I suspect she would be happy nowhere but in England. Taxes are real but for some the thought of moving is a kind of status gesture, implying that one really has enough to make it worthwhile.

A stupid letter, this, in every sense but that of love,

Norman

20 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

We certainly live in no such city as London where you could witness knockdowns on the street. But we felt almost like that last night after dinner when we sat reading only to be interrupted by the sounds of roaring cars on Goodrich Street and the reports of three revolver shots. We rushed out the front door, as did our neighbors, and saw a car followed by a police car hurtle into the hedge at the juncture with Prospect Street. Almost immediately three police cars were there, a young man was being handcuffed behind his back, and there was much conference amongst the police. The man who lived in the hedged house came across to discuss with us and a Mother Superior from Albertus Magnus College who also appeared, saying that he had been interrupted in his reading by the hedge-crashing car. But the police did not confide in him and we must wait to see if the papers have anything about it. Probably not. One can guess only that he had been burglarizing and jumped into his car or had stolen it in the first place. At any rate it was a mad chase with the culprit unable to turn the corner.

I keep more or less quiet. I tire even as I come to the office for just a bit, as yesterday afternoon, and I come again today only after Mrs H has left. I do get incredibly tired and stiff sitting around at home, and the doctor has given me permission to have a massage so long as my abdomen is left alone. As a diversion I have started to pull out more or less literary letters from the annual filing boxes in the basement. By chance I hit 1940 first and was startled to find letters from you, as to "dear Mr Pearson." How long ago that seems, and how much less cherished by me than our relationship now. Actually there are a few from Hilda, etc which in my twilight had better go with the rest of my letters from her. I have never made a thing of filing individually as they came in, until recently with you and with her.

This noon we watched the launching of the new moon rocket, but the weather was bad and the rocket soon disappeared into the clouds. It was far more interesting and exciting when you and I were at Churchill.

No time to write my report as yet but I did manage to finish a ms on Wm Carlos Wms's prose which I read for the Wesleyan University Press. Not very good I thought. This morning's New York Times had a brief review of Decade. Complimentary but not ecstatic; still I think Wesleyan will be pleased to have been noticed in the daily edition. Anthologies seldom are. Nor poetry of any sorting.

I forgot to say that the Dowding came yesterday from Golden & Currie.

My thanks.

Your letters of the 11th and 12th came today. By now you will know that I am much better, tho on a plateau until I have the x-rays next Wednesday. Perhaps I can have something better than milk by the time we entertain guests from Australia next Thursday and Friday nights.

Do eat on your side of the Escale, if for no other reason than to please the prop. I shall let Catha go for the moment, as you suggest. Will be interested to see what Ainsworths you may decide on. His list is a large one, I gather.

I shall be down again for a bit tomorrow and write again. Meanwhile
rejoice in my increasing recovery.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

15 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I did come down this morning when no one else would be in the office, and have been busily typing, or rather dictating since then. Actually I have done five tapes, and have only one more I can possibly do tomorrow to keep Mrs H busy for some days. For as you can imagine things do pile up when one is absent.

No letter today and I will go back over the others tomorrow to see if I missed anything. Yesterday, as I may have told you, the art books went off to Lady deB for her Christmas and I will write her to say they are from you. I bought a set for myself and think they are stunningly handsome. She may not admire the art but I think she will be touched by your thoughtfulness, and interested in the books partly because they are American and therefore somewhat different. In Washington I picked up a catalogue I thought she might like, as well as some postcards, which with a couple of old magazines I am also sending to her. I enclose what I had forgotten to send before, and did not want to have go to England, Sir Gavin's review of the Dawwin book.

One does, as you say, have a compulsive drive to be active. I er perhaps it is boredom, perhaps only an excuse to keep from doing the better things that I should engage myself in. Whatever the reason I will soon be off on my trip to the East, the doctor having said it was OK to make my more or less final plans. So yesterday I went to the travel agent's and revised his suggestions; he is now revising my revision. But as of the moment we fly directly to 'ahiti and Bora-Bori which I decided would make a good place to lie quietly in the sun for a few days of rest. Then to Papeete for a couple of days so Susan can see it, and then to the Isle of Pines which is said to be attractive and Polynesian. From there to Sydney, then Canberra and Melbourne, a few days with friends at each. From Melbourne noth to Alice Springs for a couple of days and on to Darwin, thus spanning Australia in one direction at least. From Darwin direct to Bali for a week. Then to Java for a week in the midlands and the temple country. From there to Singapore, Malacca and Penang (where we have friends). Then Kuala Lumpur for two days and on to Tapei. From Tapei directly to Osaka where we settle in, this being the first of April. Lizzie will arrive about the 11th of May, spend five days in Tokyo with Susan and come on to Kyoto for a fortnight after which they will return home by way of Hong Kong and Hawaii. I stay on until the beginning of August, perhaps converting meanwhile to Zen priesthood. We shall see. Mostly I will be teaching with only a few days leeway between the spring term and the summer session of a fortnight.

I wonder what actually will happen with Greenland?

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

17 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I feel extremely guilty for it is nine o'clock at night and if I do
not get home before Susan does I shall get bloody hell for having broken my promise.
I persuaded her to go to the dinner and annual meeting of the Historical Society
without me, while I ate at Mory's. But the temptation to come back to the office
and clean up a few more matters was irresistible. I have indeed cleared the matters,
but now will have to clear myself.

Actually there is not much to report. I spent Sunday quietly, after a
long Saturday morning and afternoon at the office. I had intended to go home after
lunch but a student from a decade or two back came unexpectedly to see me, full of
details of the last days of Mrs Cummings and her estate. He and my friend Mrs
Knight seem to feuding over the remains, much as they did over what was left of
D.H.Lawrence. But certain things of interest did emerge. First that Cummings and
Marion were actually never married, though they put up a great front of having done
so to please Cummings's mama. I'm not sure what the point was, but Cummings' daughter
by the first of his three marriages or two plus Marion never did get on with C, who
treated her dismally always, and wants her "in" on the property. Mrs Knight got
$10,000 from Marion, this boy got $5,000, and Ezra's grandson got $3,000 although
Marion had given much more to get him out of jail on dope charges while he was at
Rutgers. Marajuana, I presume. I was also interested to know that Cumming's great
patroness, Hildegarde Watson, of Rochester, had always paid the same amounts to
the Cummings no matter what his later self-earned comfortable income was, and that
Mrs W still paid Marianne's rent and much of her expenses. I gather always had
since the Dial days. So Marianne can not have been all that hard up always.

An oddment came in the mail today, a novel called THE FRAGMENTED THE EMPTY
THE LOVE, WRITTEN BY A Patti Bard, and alumnus of the Moody Bible Institute. The
quotes Hilda, but how I don't know. Still the book is mine, for that reason.

Three letters came from you today, one of the 13th and two of the 14th. I
am glad you have arranged the Escale to Marie Anne's satisfaction. It is much better
so. And I lament your possible trouble of mane]clips. Why shouldn't I learn and fly
over fortnightly. I should like that immensely. You might even meet me at Eugene.
With Ines and the gardnerer you will simply have to be firm. She will understand that
firmness I am sure, And you can explain to her that one does not simply type at any
table. It must be the right height. I had a secretary once who refused to work for
me unless I got a proper table. You see, she said, you will not get good work out
of me unless I have the right sort of chair and the right sort of table. And she
would indeed have been sick. Ask Ines how she would like cooking at a stove which was
level with the floor, or which she had to reach to above her head.

And now I must fly, but not without sending all love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I must say this sort of life I lead is confusing. I stay at home so much, that even though I get reading done I can't help but feel mixed up as to what day of the week it is. Then when I come in, the hours or hour is oddly spaced. Forgive, then, the confusions.

All goes much as before. Today I have been deprived of all medications since tomorrow morning at 8:10 I report for one of the horrible G-I intestinal x-ray examinations in which one swallows guck and hangs around to be watched for four and a half hours. Thus goes the morning, but at least it kept me from an alumni-seminar-planning meeting in the morning and an oral examination for the doctorate in the afternoon before I go to my seminar on Hawthorne which I really do have to attend.

Susan had her fling out last night at the annual meeting of the Historical Society, dinner before hand, and tonight goes to the symphony concert with her sister. I shall eat with them at the Lawn Club and then go home to re-read Hawthorne. Thursday she goes to New York for her hair, and on Friday and Thursday night we entertain guests from Australia with guests for them. One can't quite duck that!

I must report the safe arrival of the xerox copy of Petrie's ms from Sylva Norman. So now when you have decided who the printer is to be I can write, find out what fonts he has, and have the book laid out attractively. The next step will be for you to decide on the printer-publisher.

And I must admit one failure on my part. You wrote that you wanted the Co-op to subscribe at your expense to the New Yorker for some one in England. I think it was Agnes but cannot be sure, and spent hours going back through the letters to try to track the matter down. I know I wrote you that the Co-op couldn't but that I would and charge something equivalent to your Co-op account. Could you take mercy and tell me to whom to send it. I even wrote the necessary letter at home waiting to fill in the recipient at the office. But to no avail.

Your letter of the 15th arrived. Mr Greenwood sent me a chapter, pleasant to read but not very profound I fear. He did not honor me with his poetry which is perhaps just as well. But the first page of your reply was excellent. Really fine. I wish I could do as well. My article was different. I send him a copy of the Wisconsin issue, the extra copies of which have just arrived.

No thanks for the calendar. In my old office I had a place for one small one just above my typewriter. Now there is none, and my clock < has an automatic calendar which runs by battery like the clock itself.

How nice it would be if I myself ran that way. Then there would be no ulcers.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

19 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I did not get to the office until mid-afternoon and could not reach for
the typewriter until just a few moments before my four o'clock seminar begins. So
this is more for the record and the heart than for any information it can give. I
ate dutifully a small steak at the Lawn Club last night, and then came home while
Susan went on to the concert with her sister. And at eight a.m. this morning reported
at the x-ray office, swallowed barium and other unpleasant concoctions and had an
infinite series of plates taken of my innards. To my surprise, and pleasure, I
was allowed an hour off at ten, told to go home and get breakfast (I could not even
drink water after midnight nor take any medications yesterday) and report back at
eleven. Which I did, had two more sets taken and was home a little before noon.
Both at noon and in my mid-morning return I glanced at television, but because the
color tv would not work we had no pictures at all. Too bad for them and their
souvenirs, although they seem to have done it all with remarkable ease.

Your letter of the 16th came today. I find Ines's annoyances annoying
to me as well. It is curious how people can bully even when they have no direct
intention of so doing. I suppose she feels her peasant strength, without any
intellectual outlet for the emotions this provokes. Italy of course may well be
disturbing, although I think the communists would bother Ines far less than they
would enneth and Islay. Indeed I wonder if the Boys really understand what
might happen to Cetona and their company if theree was a change of radical
regimes?

Glad you are making out a new list for Philip. If you think wise
send me a carbon copy, just to tuck away in case of need or legal hitches.

Hope your copy of the Hilda issue of the Wisconsin magazine has
arrived. And Decade.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

20 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

A telephone call from my doctor just before lunch, with the report from the x-rays. Again he used the word "crater" which makes the episode seem like a moon-landing, only to say that none had been found. All of which pleased him and certainly did me. He lightened my diet even more--or should one say heavied it-- and even said I could have a drink tonight before dinner, so long as it was not a martini. This will at least be helpful since we are entertaining the Australian head of the Australian-American Commission, who is here with his wife, and was the funnel through which I received my Australian funds two summers ago. We have them and other guests at home for dinner tomorrow.

There are still things I cannot eat--raw fruit and vegetables for example, and I am supposed to avoid strong spices. But I see him tomorrow afternoon and no doubt we will go into further detail then.

Two books came for your Dusty Diamonds today, those these were certainly children's jewelry. One was Fenn's A YOUNG HERO, not even listed in the B.M. catalogue, so you have an additional distinction. The other a volume nobly titled HAPPY CHILDREN AT PLAY. Neither I think quite qualifies so far as history novels are concerned, but do from the author's collection, both being as for Fenn. Actually they are rather gay.

Your two letters of the 17th and that of the 18th came today. I am much relieved that the x-ray of lnes troubles disclosed the missing 50 francs. Obviously to lose money is a mortal sin in her village, and she has certain childlike qualities to her which cause her to conceal rather than own up. The worst is that she really will have learned nothing from all this, though you may.

I will be glad for all extra copies of Close Up. I discover I have one complete set, and miss volume One of another otherwise complete set. You don't have an extra copy of the first issues hanging around by any chance. If you do I will give one set to Yale to be consulted, but keep the other for my own research.

Pleased that you will have a few days with Joan before Xmas, and have the deBeers for the holiday itself. I really don't know quite what to say about the Fitzgerald issue. Matt Bruccoli I have known for many years since he was an undergraduate at Yale; he worked to be a bibliographer but most do not like him. He is terribly industrious and turns out things almost hacklike. I happen to have two copies of the first issue because two contributors sent them to me. I thought the quality of the articles inferior and the price so high that no-one but libraries will buy it. Your audience therefore for anything you have to say about the twenties would be small indeed. He is a great cadger. My instinct would be to say no, alas you are working on a later period of your own memoirs. Most of his articles are snippety which would give you no scope.

Sorry about the $60.00 check which was cashed a few days ago. But you have every right for retribution against my whimper at your not having cashed the $1.00 check I gave you in early July, so we are even. I do hope by the way that by now you too have deposited it. Your sixty dollar check was for the Christmas book for the Wipft.

Hope you have decent weather for your begira.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

21 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I must be off within a few moments to an appointment with my doc-
tor, in which I daresay he will outline more fully the results of my x-ray
examinations and lay out whatever regimen I am to follow for the time being.
I ought to return from that to a meeting of the Graduate School faculty, and
so want at least to begin this letter to you. I can add a postscript later
telling what he tells. Indeed although I shall write on Sunday I think I
will not come down tomorrow morning. It is the day of the Harvard football
game, the town is already being crowded by cars from away, and I would get
too little done to make it worthwhile bucking the flood. The weather is in
the 30's but I hope to go to the game anyway. There is a chance that Yale
might win, and I am too loyal and to starved for victory to want to miss the
chance.

Our dinner party at Mory's last night really went off exception-
ally well. The majority of guests were Australian which made them all happy
since they could talk of Australia, I was able to have a thin drink so they
could drink more without embarrassment, and a singing group known as the
"Alleycats" entertained us and others to the immense enjoyment of the Aussies.
I persuaded them to sing to the tune of "It's --- who makes the world go round,"
a rephrase as "It's Australia that makes the Pacific go round." Which pleased
both my guests and the singers, who also replied with "Waltzing Matilda." Now
all I have to do is to pay the bill.

I think I forgot to tell you that some time ago, the Henty researcher
presented me with three volumes of American editions of Henty: AT ABOUKIR; ERIC
THE BRITON; and AT AGINCOURT. Two of them at least are American firsts, the other
I am not sure of. But a nice addition. I have also heard of an English dealer
who claims to be a Henty authority and have written to ask what he can offer.
The Bryher Collection must be a first-rate one, indeed almost is already.

Halfway through the last paragraph the phone rang from long distance
to ask about the suitability of a man for the deanship of a college. The answer:
no. And then it was time to go to the doctor. I had new blood tests, but of
course the results will only come later. But no bleeding, and indeed he says
there is a faint possibility that the bleeding may have come from a technical
hernia, for which nothing need be done. I am still however to take it slightly
easy on the diet for another fortnight, and then see him. But outside of raw
roughage and coffee I can have pretty much anything. Which is good news
indeed. I went finally to the last half of the faculty meeting, so that at
least I could be counted as present by the new dean.

Now it is after six and I must go home and change for our guests.
No letter, as I said, tomorrow, but a decent one I hope on Sunday.

All love as always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

23 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

The football game with Harvard took precedence over the office
yesterday, and hence over a letter to you. Actually I left the house to do
a number of errands, pick up an electrical appliance that was being fixed,
delivering discard paperbacks to the Peyre who collects them for the local
hospital, and getting in a new supply of various drugs as prescribed by my
doctor. Yale won the game I am glad to say, but the game itself was not
very exciting I am sorry to say and Yale was I think lucky to win. Still,
they had been thought to have a very poor team indeed this year, yet managed
a three-way tie for the first place in the lead, and won the Big Three
championship over Harvard and Princeton, beating both of them. I wrapped
myself as for the arctic, as did Susan, the temperature being in the low
30's and we were both in the shade and the wind. Our toes were numb but the
rest of us was all right.

The dinner party at home Friday night went off well, although
the wife of the Australian visitor fell ill with a cold and had to stay at
home. She had been at the house the night before, however, so we at least
had the pleasure of receiving her. We had a well-known economist and his wife--
Lloyd Reynolds, who is going to Australia for the year, and a friend of mine
cum wife whose daughter is married to an Australian and lives there. Since
Australians love to talk about Australia, and everyone was willing to listen,
the conversational requirements were taken care of.

I touched rather hurriedly on your undated latter which came
yesterday--there was none yesterday. I did as a matter of fact find out the
story about the chase up Goodrich Street and the shots. Taking the car to
the ready-wash where you went, I saw a policeman, asked him if he ever patrolled
Goodrich Street and found he was one of the police cars involved. The young
man had broken into the house of a relative on Dixwell Avenue (five streets
down), was reported, and already suspected because of another break, and thus
chased and captured. "The judge will probably let him off," the policeman
sniffed.

Many thanks for sticking to it about condition and firsts as for
the Ainsworths. It rather irritates me that they should have offered you the
others, especially the third edition--as though they hoped to unload both of
these others.

I think I told you that the doctor had more blood tests taken,
the reports from which I may hear on Monday if unfavorable or not at all until
I go in a fortnight if favorable. One hopes for silence. I am not remarkably
hungry but seem to have put on a few pounds which I must try to lose. But the
doctor says I may begin my exercises on Monday and this will help.

I had a nice letter from Pup thanking for Decade and the HD number.
Both older sons it seems went to Asgington for the Moratorium March; like
Woodstock it is the sort of thing a young man almost has to do to keep his
dignity and satisfy his curiosity and sense of boredom. I know I should
have. But I think Nicholas's advisor at Choate is wrong when he thinks that
a crewcut and sober tie gets one into Yale. He is five years out of date.
Nicky's having been editor of their literary magazine will help very much
indeed. And despite John's shock at the moral behaviour of some of Nicky's
friends (the staider ones, presumably like John himself in the older days),
I doubt that he will be labelled a pot-boiler.

A yellowback came, and I thought Leslie's letter a very nice one.
I am glad Mary improves.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Dearest Fido,

I began the day with a return trip to the gymnasium, and found I could lift the weights with relish. As a result I have felt much better during the day, and was pleased a few minutes ago when Dr Swift phoned to say that the blood tests showed that I had been adding nice red corpuscles (if that is the right term and spelling ) in a wholly admirable way. So I am to go on as is until next Friday week when I see him again.

Little happened at home yesterday. I went back rather late, after six, had dinner and then like every good Englishman and Australian in their day we watched The Forsythe Saga on telly. I don't know whether or not this was an Ethel avocation, but when I was in Australia everyone solemnly excused himself Sunday night to glue himself to his set. I must say the series is beautifully acted and most gripping. I would hate to miss an episode myself.

This morning's mail brought a nice letter from Joan thanking for the dictionary and the maple sugar. She seemed in excellent spirits and was of course most pleased at the idea of seeing you at regular intervals.

I spoke with Ingholt this afternoon by phone. He is suffering from a bad cold but we lunch together on Wednesday. They had a splendid trip to Damascus for the international archaeological meeting and he made the opening address first in English and then in French, took part in all meetings, and went back to all the spots they had known as younger. Only four days in London on their way back, ans this over a weekend, so I gather they saw and did little. But Denmark on the way out was fun, apparently, although they did not see anyone from the National Museum so I am as much in the dark as before.

Your letters of the 20th and 21st were in the mail. I note as I re-read; my first query was about Japan, but the doctors say not to worry about that. What with the deBeers and the Mme Ruegg you will have been busy. If only Ines could now make her loss of fifty francs into past history. But no, it is drama she will unwillingly relinquish. One is sad about the possibility of missing Greenland but I will simply have to go out another year. Then, oer haps one could actually see more. Your own plan of Scillies for the Schaffner family sounds like good fun if you can drag Elizabeth away from her horse and camp. The sixty dollar check went to pay for the deBeer book plus the cost of shipping it; it went surface as too heavy for air. So you owe me nothing. I will send you a xerox of the itinerary when they deliver it to me. Letters to Myoto will always be waiting me. Perhaps a journal as before, sent weekly. I trust this and perhaps one other to the Glock, but presume they will always send on to Kenwin if the arrival is too late.

A I my love as always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

25 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I ought to have gotten an immense amount done today, but some-
how didn't. I dallied too long at the gymnasium for one thing, and then
found myself inveigled into taking Mrs Hamermann's husband to the Graduates
Club (where I helped him to get a membership) for his first visit there. I
know how awkward clubs can be on first visits, and was glad to show him where
the reading rooms, the toilets and the men's bar were. But it took time even
though we lingered in none of them.

My real trouble was that I could gather no pressure, and once several
interviews were over this morning I never really quite got going. I did dictate
two tapes of letters this afternoon but since Mrs H still has four to go from the
last lot my efforts seemed futile. She had to leave early for a meeting between
parents and teachers of her sons this afternoon, and because of Thanksgiving on
Thursday there will be a secretarial holiday on Friday.

A letter in today from my new Henty bookdealer in England, as special-
ist as described, saying he was extremely busy with orders from schools but
would write to me again soon. However he offered A DOZEN ALL TOLD, which contains
Henty's "A Shark's Finn." (No, I think the shark had a fin rather than a
Scandinavian!) But how I wish you were with me to read all these new additions.

I was delighted to have the new pages of the memoirs. If you can't
run across the copies of the old, which I sent you in New York when you were
reading the proof on Vaud at the Stanhope, I can have another set quite easily
run off. It is of a nothing. I think I send you the new Renault anyhow. The
only review I have read so far was not wildly favorable, but it as rushed for
this side and will be much delayed in England. It was to have been a Christmas
present for you anyhow. Heden's feelings were hurt when Renault would not
transfer from Pantheon to Harcourt when she and Kurt moved. She was wildly keen
on her as of The Wine of the Charioteer, although slightly troubled by the
lesbianism which she understands better than she admits to herself. The ad
for the historical ms was splendid. So many could have inserted it. All of
your plans for Christmas sound fun and I am truly glad that the deBeers were
to be nears. It will be happy for them too. George's letter about August was
a joy for me to read even now. I am glad it turned up. One of your letters
today was as of the 22nd November, the other which came in very fast time
indeed was dated November 30th. I can only congratulate the postal authorities.
I know how you feel about weeding books and getting in order. My shipment to
Norway has gone at last, I sent over 200 in all, and these duplicates. I keep
turning up more. It is noce to think they will be used, or at least available.
I am now about to work like absolute mad getting all letters off to Japan so I
will know what I am to teach and therefore what I must send ahead in the way of
books. The secretaryless Friday will actually be a blessing of non-disturbance,
fine as she is. And of course I have my classes to prepare.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

No letter from you today and so, tomorrow being Thanksgiving, I
shall have to wait until Friday. But I have been lucky in these past few
days, and as you said, your departure to Zurich would make things difficult
for writing. I risk this last one to the Glock, since it contains nothing
vital if lost.

Indeed the day has not been vital really, in any significant way.
I lunched with Ingholt who sent you his regards. And Horace phoned just be-
fore lunch to wish me a happy Thanksgiving. He seemed in unusually good
spirits. Marya had just been off to Katonah, N.Y., to give a poetry reading.
This had set her up enormously and we both agreed that it would be fine if she
could be persuaded to give readings of this sort, anything which would get
her out of the house. Perhaps I can help.

Perhaps I can help too in another direction. For I had a nice
letter from Valentine, thanking me for the anthology and saying he had been
reading in the H.D. issue oft the Wisconsin magazine. I intend a copy for
him, but unfortunately only received four, one of which I kept, one to Pup
and one was snatched by Mrs H. He wants to stop by an read some of his
grandmother's unpublished work, and Susan and I are going to suggest he spend
the night since he will be en route to Choate. This may be an entering
wedge. I am his godfather you know, and although my nature has never been to
make much of this sort of relationship it just might work in his case. Who
knows, if I don't overtry I might be able to turn a lock open.

All sorts of correspondence has been beginning about Hilda's things,
because of the issue, with two small publishers wanting her things. This
must be my big task after my return from Japan.

Two copies of *Vaud* arrived in today's mail, although Horace over
the phone said that the copy as from 'Ielen's letter had not come. I will drop
her a note about this Monday. The fault is perhaps mine since I have not yet
sent in the list for complimentary copies. And, alas, somewhere I have misplaced
the list of those you wanted the book sent to in Switzerland and England.
Could you make the list out again for me.

One of my tasks today was to balance my bank book and I see that
you still have not cashed the check I gave you for one dollar in early July,
in payment for the rights to *Vaud*. This is the fifth month for having to
carry it over as still uncashed, and it would be nice if you could send it
to be cashed. My suggestion was to send it to your New York account and have
it deposited to your credit. You scolded me for letting your check go over
one month, and I do not scold but I do beg.

Both girls and the grandchildren come tomorrow for Thanksgiving
dinner at noon, the usual fare such as you and I had at the Lawn Club one year
when we celebrated together and alone here. Lizzie will cook the turkey, and
young Susan some of the vegetables. Susan will do the desert pies--pumpkin,
I believe. I shall eat gingerly but whatever I want. So I will have a special
celebration.

I doubt very much that I will get to the office tomorrow, and so there
will not be a letter from me. But love anyhow, and always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

My physical health may be recovering but my mind is deteriorating rapidly. I spent great effort writing you a late Thanksgiving afternoon note in longhand, plus a list for you to OK for copies of VAUD. And then of course left it at home so it can't go until tomorrow. Too bad, for I ought to get the final list to Helen before she leaves for South America.

The real trouble as always was that I got started late. I went first to the my tire man and had the snow tires put on the car. Despite some threats of snow we have had none yet, but last year we waited until a blizzard and then skidded around until we could get the men free to make the shift. Afterwards I went to my little Jewish tailor, whose wife died of cancer, to follow up my letter and gift to "the charity of my choice" with a pat on the back. Obviously it had been indicated that I should make just this visit, and he quoted me a selection from the Talmud, since as a boy he had wanted to be a rabbi. From there I went to the Co-op to see if Mary Renault had come. She had and after lunch I bundled and tied it up and took it to the postoffice as the first, alas unwrapped, of my Christmas gifts. I felt tempted to put on the outside, "Unsolicited Xmas Gift." But what would a solicited one be like? I sent you also, as fourth class airmail a miscellany of clippings and things I thought might interest you. The review of Sir Gavin's book I thought you might send on as reaching him quicker than his American publisher would. In with Miss Renault were some postcards of paintings which I thought you might solemnly give Lady deB some time between coffee cakes. I bought them with her in mind when last in Washington. If they do not interest blame it on my bleeding condition. I was hardly back at the office before Mrs H appeared, not to work but to introduce her mother--an attractive (personally) woman who still works for a living in New York, tho in her early 70's. I then lunched with Roysce Smith which took a bit longer than usual but had its element of gossip.

But most of the afternoon went to the horrible composition of a tw-page letter (single spaced) to the editor of the Am. St. Association Magazine, now on the spot, who had wanted me to come to Philadelphia on Monday for a meeting. This was quite impossible both because I have a class and because I am still watching my energy. But I did have to point out that the magazine was secondary to the association, rather than his sense of vice-versa. I am sure he will be angry at me, but I shall be at a safe distance until I see him again. I took the precaution of sending a copy of my letter to the Executive Secretary.

As a result of this I got much less done than I had hoped. But perhaps tomorrow and Sunday will be better. Tonight I take Susan to the theater, with dinner out beforehand. She has worked hard for the holiday, and this will be a change.

I will begin tomorrow with you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

29 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

I seem to be getting a little more accomplished today at the office, but with so much to be done I still feel a bit overwhelmed by the obstacles. At any rate we had an appetizing Chinese dinner last night and then went to a metamorphosis of Ovid's *Metamorphosis* by the Yale Repertory Theater and thought it the best thing we had seen them do so far. It was gay, with music, and ballet, but written as a sequence and with care.

To get down to the business of the moment. You ask what I have in the way of manuscript sent by you for the *Jigge*. I suspect the best thing is to send you another xerox copy of what I sent you at the Stanhope, so that you can have it at hand to refer to from now on. I am not surprised that it was mislaid. At the Stanhope you were so busy with Helen and the proofs of *Vaud* that you did not have a chance to look the sheets, I sent, over and I rather imagine that because of weight you sensibly decided not to bring them back to Switzerland with you. I have taken the parts I now have of 1940 and 1941 to the xerox printer, and the copies will be done and go out to you on Monday. Fortunately they work on Sunday so this is possible. As 1942 is completed, up to the point you think this is now possible, I will have this typed and xeroxing on to you too.

You ask about your doubts as to using the *Jigge of the Watch* for the title. There certainly is no reason why you should not retrain the public in their definition of the word. But I have just looked it up in the newest *American Heritage Dictionary* and unfortunately do not find the definition you use and will have to depend on glossing in your book. The dictionary gives in the following order: a lively dance; a joke or trick; a metal fishing lure; a device for cleaning and separating metal ore in mines; a device for holding a tool in place; (as in the jøg is up) all hope is gone; to jerk rapidly. They do not give the slang definition which is the equivalent of nigger. I suppose these would be what the average American would association with the watch as you use it; that is, until he read your explanation. He would be fooled if he thought of the book only by its title.

I'm sorry to have out you to such trouble in trying to find the check I sent you for *Vaud*. Perhaps I made the search worse by saying it had gone in July when actually I discover it went on June 18th. But to simplify matters I have made out another check, with the same date, and if you would be willing to cash this one you can forget the other. I'll just cross it off my list. Some day it will turn up and you can then simply rip it in two.

The letters have been a little scattered, and the most recent were from the 21st, 22nd, 25th, and 30th. I think I spoke of the last of these earlier. I'm pleased that Mme Ruegg draws near to her confinement so easily. * Mrs Hildegarde Watson, whose husband ran the *Dial*, has been paying Marianne's way to gather more or less since she edited the *Dial*. So I think she has always had a pretty good backlog of income except as it went out to help her brother. This must have been a constant drain and worry to her. * Would you permit me to buy you a proper typing stool as a Christmas present. It would please me so much to be able to find something you really need for your convenience and your own health's sake. I go by what all of my secretaries have told me, and I know by my own experience. You ought not to tire yourself unnecessarily. Marie Anne can arrange for me, and thus it will be a pleasure to me.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 H G S
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN • CONN

I note that you are taking care of Agnes's subscription. I only blush to have mislaid your instructions. *" "iffy"? Any situation which depends upon "if". Example: I will do it if I am well; we will go if the weather is good; etc. * Was pleased you liked the Christmas stamps. I care less for the ones I sent you yesterday on the my letter. But I try to buy enough for each of your collector friends. * The new Swiss ones have been interested and much appreciated by Justus. The one with portrait looks like an East Germany stamp. * By the way, young Christoph de Nagy has been made a double professor of American literature, serving at Basle and Bern. This is a great step up for him. * I have by the way not forgotten the dictionary for Melitta nor the style book. I consulted with Roysce Smith today and will order on Monday. He advocates the new American Heritage dictionary since it includes so many four-letter words and slang as used by her patients. It will go as from you. The style book he is inquiring into, but he agrees that the one I thought of--in paperback--is best. * Do not worry about Close Up; we have one set of volume one and Kenneth eventually may prove to have another. *Pup's letters are always good. They are lucky if Elizabeth wants to get away to school. I think she needs also to get out of the house. There is much to be said for boarding schools especially in urban life! That she does not like math will not maim her for life.

And now I must get back to my machine and dictate. Only I wanted this time not to be rushed in my letter to you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

30 November 1969

Dearest Fido,

A very quiet day indeed, spent almost entirely at the office.
I have written hand Christmas cards, thanking early for books and offprints
sent me, thus killing two obligations with one stamp. Have wrapped copies
of _Decade_ to be posted, since Mrs H had a short and interrupted week and
was not able to finish what I had dictated the week before. Now she has a
new total of nine folders of letters to go through, and at her pace will
hardly get these done by next Friday.

But even though I have miles to go, as Frost put it, my desk
does look a little better and only because I want to get this in an earlier
post to you amd I writing now with the possibility of getting back to work.
I still have an immense amount of filing to do, a stack of reccommendations
to write, and my Japanese letters to get off. Plus, first of all, a set
of graduate student reports to correct. This really has been put off too
long.

There was, as customary, no letter from you on Saturday but perhaps there will be some tomorrow. You will perhaps still be in Zurich with Joan as I write, and I only hope the day is not quite so Novemberish as ours is. It does not snow, though we are constantly threatened with flakes, but the sun does not shine and one misses it.

I was much amused as I went through a catalogue today to find the
enclosed. One is almost tempted to buy it and discover my doppelganger.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 H G S
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN·CONN

1 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

How has the day gone? With an early visit to an electrical repair man to fix the electrical heater that Susan uses at her garage bench when she does flowers or re-pots orchids in winter. Then a session at the gym with the weights rising and falling one hopes with some rhythm. Then a young man from Minnesota here for ten days to work on the Hawthorne letters, and indeed to judge from the subject of his dissertation I think he will have to depend almost entirely on my letter files. Tomorrow another Hawthorne scholar comes and the two will have to work together. I took the Minnesotan to lunch and found him most amiable and interesting, and will tell more of him anon. But the afternoon saw my seminar on Melville's poetry and that lasted until after four. Then correcting papers, but Mrs H most kindly offered to put in extra time as needed until I go at the end of January, and this will be a godsend. For there were nine folders of dictation waiting for her this morning, and three is about the limit for a single day.

The xerox copies of your memoirs (Jigge) went off to you by the afternoon mail, so you can see exactly what I have at hand before this last chapter you have been sending.

One new batch arrived today and I can only marvel at the way you keep at it. 1942 will soon be finished. And oh yes, also today came the three packages of Osbert's ms from Maggs, registered, but I did not get the chance to open it. What a wonderful treasure it is to have!

Yours of the 27th also arrived. Where is the tune to ungiven words. This must be "in" language used in the Times ad you sent. He or she must want some one to play the fiddle. * I congratulate you on winning Marie Anne over to the Escale (I almost wrote Escorial, but that is even more regal). * While I am away I should continue to send along letters in yellowbacks as you did before when I was absent. Mrs H will simply store for me in my office, and I can peruse and file on my return. If you don't (you may want to omit some of the more casual for the moment) you will have far too many ever to send. If you are like me, and you are like me, you will want to have them off your hands and conscience. But I will go into all arrangements later. Before too long I should be getting my itinerary. At the moment hotel engagements are being checked.

Your Zuri note of the 28th is also in, and I much thank you for giving me the holiday feel of the city. As I say no snow here as yet though we are constantly threatened. * As to Greenland I expect to know something or other eventually. Ingholt has promised to write Helge Larsen to see what he knows of dedications if any. It would be wonderful if you could go either mit or as my ambassador. I do need to know, for there was some query from the Australian visiting here as to whether I would consider returning via Australia for another meeting of the A New Zealand American Studies Association in mid-August. * Your comment on Mrs Galsworthy II's remark, or I should have said Mrs II Galsworthy's remarks. We watched again last night. Susan is most loyal. A very sad life they all led, but the costuming and sense of the past is superb. You actually would enjoy this, though probably not the book. It is a true documentary. * The Historian as Detective is done by a friend of mine. I actually think I may send you for Christmas on the basis that you pass it on to Sir Gavin who might find it amusing winter reading. He will snort but be amused. Much will already be familiar, but the purchase will help my friend now cultural attache in London.

Yours of the 26th came with the others but I open again by chance now. I am truly sorry about K's upset vis-a-vis Cetona, but one really wonders if, come

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

a revolution the rose garden and new wall, the walks among the olive trees, and
the tropical toilet will not be taken over for the aged or the elect. I doubt that
the fear need be that of bombing or burning but of confiscation. Burying things
behind walls in caves is almost too Etruscan. It will save nothing. But what a
fix Kenneth would be in financially with so much sunk into Cetona. We will all
have to rally around if the crisis comes. The cash dribbles in--and Lizzie seems
to have taken a small house now without much (any) consultation, though circum-
stances explain the change somewhat, and this will mean I'll have to "up" her
allowance. * What a pity that Saillet will not write. It would be line vitamine
pills to him I think, better than plowing. But some prefer tp plow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

2 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

Your letter of the 29th from Zurich arrived today. How lucky that you are away from Kenwin's snow. You would need to be a St Bernard rather than a boxer to make a go of it chez toi. This morning there were a few flakes to be seen on the ground, but hardly even powdered sugar. But it is cold, and damp. I was chilled somehow during the night and could move my back muscles only with pain this morning when I got up. Most annoying, I must say. Tonight on t.v. we watch a National eographic Society travelogue on Siberia. It will be completely appropriate.

It will be rather fun to see what you think of 2001. I rather liked it better the second time than the first, though the psychodelic parts still seemed too long and the ending clumsy and needing annotation. The best was the destruction of the computor.

I had a little celebration this morning by being allowed my first grapefruit. I had ordered a box of them and oranges sent up from Florida before the blow struck. But Susan saw my doctor yesterday for her own shock, spoke of my tears at being deprived and he agreed that grapefruit, but grapefruit only, would now be allowed. To balance I had a soft-boiled egg for lunch.

The morning went chiefly to correcting papers from the graduate seminar on poetry, and having appointments with students. This never seems quite profitable, but it is after all what I am paid for. Mrs Hamerman has been working overtime, and so has made real progress with the tapes. I shall have to plot to gave her more. I sent along today an envelope with two articles from the N.Y. Times on Swiss accounts from the States, partly because it involved the Union Bank and I thought might interest Ruegg as well as yourself. The problem of course is with washed money originating from this side.

Why this should remind me of your request for a definition of a martini I can't imagine, since no one washes money in martinis, even though washed money will buy many martinis. This is a cocktail now popular in England as well as the States and in Spain, made up of gin and vermouth. French or Italian vermouth according to one's taste for sweetness or dryness. And with a strength depending also on one's stamina and taste for what is dry. A restaurant will mix 3 parts gin to one of vermouth. At home we mix six parts of gin to one of vermouth, and are admired for it.

The event of the day however has been opening the three packages with Osbert's manuscripts! How superb they are! What an immense gesture on his part to give them to you. They are of course his chef d'oeuvre, no matter how much one admires his other achievements. I wonder if I should ask Maggs to send me an appraisal, the one they did, for insiurance purposes. They will of course go into the bank while I am away. My hands trembled with excitement as I turned the pages.

Which reminds me of something we once spoke of but which I need confirmed or denied. I wonder if I should not now give to the library one complete set of McAlmon's books for safety's sake. We have duplicates of nearly everything but not quite all. But this will be assurance for whatever he did accomplish. One or two of the key volumes are the copies he gave you, mostly they are his own. You then said, if I recall correctly, that you were happy enough to have yours go into the McAlmon collection. Shall I then pass them along this year for tax purposes. Next year with no saay from Yale for six monthsw will allow me less. But th true reason of course is shelf room and safety.

Tomorrow will be a rushed day. My seminar until six and gu ests for dinner. It is just possible I may miss a letter to you. All love, Norman.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

4 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

One shivers. The thermometer has stayed in the 20's, the wind blows, and one knows that climate plays an important part in one's ecology. I have felt stiff from the moment I waked up.

I could not write yesterday; our dinner guests were arriving too soon after my seminar closed at six-fifteen, so I could only hurry home and wash my hands before the doorbell rang. We splurged and had a maid in to serve and wash the dishes, so I had no chores until this morning when Susan left for her hair-dressing-day in New York. I washed the dishes and picked up a bit and then went to the dentist for cleaning and an examination to be sure all was in order before the departure for Japan. I decided that x-rays of the teeth would be safest and so must wait for a report on them in addition to the two small cavities he discovered.

I barely got to the university by 10 for a meeting of the Executive Committee meeting of American Studies, a meeting prolonged until after the noon hour. Then immediately after lunch was an appointment with an India Indian lady who is coming back to redo a failed dissertation. She will be staying at the house with the nun. And when she had gone I got my car, collected a baby crib loaned several years ago and now ready to be given to the International House for their married and parental students, plus a playpen that is crowding our garage.

So what of the day was there be to left. None, of course.

No letter from you but a thought of you when I received the second Henty comic book I now have: IN THE REIGN OF TERROR, included in Classics Illustrated. No one can say I haven't been trying. Will you send the Henty remaining daughter a card this Christmas. And what of Stables? I found another periodical story by him in the first number of THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER.

A dreary day and a dreary letter to celebrate it. Forgive me.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

5 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

Little more than a note, but at least I can report in. It has been, I
must say, a full though not necessarily productive day. It began as usual with my
trip to the gym for exercises and massage. But the massage becomes more social each
time, and prolonged in terms of the conversation that accompanies the kneeding; the
massage is obviously more valuable than the conversation. But I said things began
at the gymn; this was not true for I had gone earlier to collect a toaster which had
been mended and the jigsaw which had had a new switch put on it before presentation
to Justus. Much better I think that these things should be used and enjoyed than simply
rust in the cellar. Then before coming to my office I went to the library and
collected some volumes on New Caledonia I had ordered yesterday, so that I can read
up a bit on there before our visit. I am such a solemn traveller that I make notes
before a visit; it is one way of finding out the more unusual and often more interest-
ing spots. "How did you hear of that?" guides have often asked, who much preferred
the main highways. I had not even taken off my coat before the young man from Minnesota
(here to work on Hawthorne) announced that he must return to Minneapolis next Monday
anyhow, and when I asked him to find out for me about the American Indian program at
the University of Minnesota, he got off on to the Indian problem there and I invited
him to lunch with deLoria (my Indian tutor) and me today. Most interesting the lunch
was but it took until I had to run to catch my car (which I had left to be anti-freezed
and lubricated and rush off to the doctors. I was in time however and he seemed
pleased at the progress and gave me still more leeway on diet (no coffee still, no
nuts, fruit but not skins of fruit, and moderate liquor). Also reduced the amount of
drugs which should make me less sleepy. We talked over a muscular stiffness I have
been feeling, took my flu shot, etc. After which I went to the savings bank and with-
drew money for Christmas needs and gifts, deposited it across the street in my checking
account, got crisp new bills for the daughters for Xmas and the maid. And then went to
the Co-op where I bought most of the books needed for my list, as well as a slide pro-
jector for young Susan who needs it for her professional lectures and the city will not
provide. Then to the barber's for a shave, since I am still taking Susan to a dinner
and then to the Assembly where local grandaughters (for us now) are presented with deep
bows to society. I am unmoved by all of this but it means more to Susan who has known
the several generations responsible for each debutante. I suspect we will not stay late
for I am not really up to a long evening of dancing. I only hope I can fit into my
tail coat and white tie.

No letter you see, but at least this brings you my love.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

I write in a disoriented milieu. And at briefer length than I should like. But sometimes I feel lucky to be able to write even notes when I look at my desk, the still unpaid for bills and the too many letters of recommendation I have not even begun. My days, even weekend, seem so confused. I began this morning rather late, since we were tired from the dinner and dance (Made pleasant by the presence of James Houston, the Arctic man who began all the revival of eskimaux carving--he married the daughter of friends of ours who were our hosts), and went to have my car washed at the mechanical spot I took you. It was crowded, and they say they wash on the average of 400 cars on a Sturday. Finally I got to my parking lot at the university, stopped the car and found the hood steaming. I waited and the steam still came. Then with the help of a Yale employee from the service bureau whom I know by sight we discovered that the hose between radiator tank and engine had collapsed and I had been driving without water. I got it to my filling station man who eventually put in a new hose and replaced the anti-freeze which he had put in yesterday, and returned the car we hope none the worse. But by now of course it was almost 11:30 and I had determined to go home for lunch and then watch the football match between Texas and Srkansas, the number 1 and number 2 team in the country. Which Id id, and it was most exciting. #1 was behind 0404 until almost the end of the game and then won 15-14. Even President Nixon flew to Arkansas to watch the event. The weather was in the low 30's there, and is the same here. So I much preferred watching from an easy chair in a heated room.

Tomorrow we have to drive to Lyme for luncheon and then back from there for an American Studies Department Christmas party. I dread the latter but having been to none of their functions so far feel we must put in an appearance, lest our distance seem hostile.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY

NEW HAVEN-CONN

8 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

For whatever is left of this particular tag of the day, I won't begin by dictation but with a letter to you instead (hopefully) of a snippet. It is a cold, sallow day of early snow and continuing cold rain. Tonight it will freeze and cars will be skidding up and down Goodrich Street.

Our yesterday was filled. We drove to Old Lyme, about three quarters of an hour away to see the newly bought house of the Hilleses and then to lunch with them and another couple from Providence who joined us at a small and very pleasant hotel for luncheon. We were shown the house before lunch, the other couple were to see it after. Alas, Mrs Hilles who is a good friend of ours but somewhat too rich and arbitrary announced that the Providence guest could not change his order for desert once it had been put down in front of him, and much to my surprise (for no desert means that much to me) he took his wife and departed after the meal in a huff. Near tears by Mrs H, near tears by the wife of the guest, and what we hope was a suave exit by us. We had a half hour at home, while I napped, and then we went on to an American Studies Christmas party for graduate students, did not stay long but at least appeared.

Now let me run wild while I get things out of the way. Many thanks, for example, for the M1-9 book and one other which arrived some days ago. Most interesting. And thanks too for the (Grieder?) tie which arrived via yellowback and which I shall now take home unopened. I wonder if you realize how I am known for my Grieder ties, thanks to you. No one in the States, I should guess, is so trade-marked. That I am your debtor and protege in this line as in so many others goes without saying.

And then, tho I must warn you that it's a joke and certainly too late anyhow, I must say that at last I found the perfect Christmas present for me, announed in the New Yorker for November 29th. Queen Victoria's wheelchair, the announcement says is for sale on East 57th Street. If only you were here, how I should go down on my knees to you for it as a companion piece to the sketch I have done by her aetat 14. The Alpha and Omega, together. "Upholstered in sober green leather with carved mahogany arms and legs, and ivory knobs on the armrests that set the wheels in motion when they are twisted." And only $2,500! Think of me, cross-dressed in gray and lace, with a small apple in each cheek to puff me out imperially. Think of how I should pound with my stick on the floor to summons you and everyone else. Think of me being wheeled into the marble halls of Cetona when my game-keeper crocodile pushed from behind. Is not life cruel when one is deprived of so suitable a sitting?

Then there are a few enclosures. The ad from yesterday's *NYTimes* which I thought was attractively laid out. Plus a letter from the Francis Wolle who was Hilda's first cousin and close as children but not much so later. I first knew him when I taught at Boulder one summer--my first teaching position. I had not known that Harold Doolittle had a copy of "The Gift." The second letter I send on simply because I am so fascinated by the History of Consciousness Program which gives a doctorate in the field. Visits like hers become a nuisance if for no other reason than that they cannot see why they should not see all. I would probably feel the same way in their boots, but my feet are larger now.

The *Historian as Detective* went off to you by airmail today. Shudderingly expensive but what is Christmas without our novel here. In other words I am trying to tempt you to stay inside Kenwin. On the other

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

hand given airtravel as it is today, and cold being cold no matter where, I don't see why at least if you don't want a warm climate (join us in New Caledonia) you don't come to New York for three days of a warm room at the Stanhope. Even if you stay in most of the time, I can have you gifted wrapped for across-the-street visits to the Metropolitan; the Chester Pages of this world would visit you daily or as often as required by the patient's need; Helen would be there for a dinner. And there are always the Schaffners. And of course bring one's typewriter mit.

Now to the recent letters in unrecorded sequence. I shall simply have to sit down and work out the additions to the list you sent Helen. This will require some figuring, but can be done shortly for the majority. I personally would not wait for the Englishman, and won't. The pleasure to them is all the greater because they have it now, and I think that Helen begins to understand your natural reluctance to have brought out in the UK. The book

Did Miss Raber find the kennel for Ines in Zurich? Frau Schaack might be able to help. I can write her if you wish. The Kronenhalle menus always make my mouth water.

Osbert's ms. I was indeed aware of the postal costs; I think Maggs wanted it out quickly. With the greatest care I cut out all the stamps, which would stock a store. Mostly of £5 dimensions which are impressive. I am, I must say, amused that I already had the ms before you knew it had been released. I think the Maggots Is that the word?) do everything possible to dissuade the customs from refusing exits to rarities of this sort. For if rules were held to strictly, where would business be. They could sell only to Englishmen. It is a real treasure and will be regarded as such.

The post seems to be completely fouled up. I suspect Christmas as of this end. For all letters to Zurich were mailed in plenty of time for them to have arrived before you left. I was most cautious, and dappened on summer schedules without thinking of the extra burdens of the season. The Reaault book was intended for you to dive into immediately; so is the Historian as Detective. * One can't help but be interested in the engineers and Kenwin, but I agree don't sell unless for what you want. Eventually you will certainly want out, but I see two or three years perhaps more. The memoirs and the Roman British novel. And New York and New Haven oftener than once a year.

So sorry about your flu and hope it is over by now. I have aching muscles and can seem to do nothing about it. *Was much relieved to see that you declined Bruccoli.

The discovery if your diary with dates for Hilda's visiting in Egypt must by all means be saved, and I note that it is to go in your cases. Such life inventories are invaluable. I hope you throw none of your own away. You may well have some use for two copies of the memoirs, in case the set I originally gave you never turns up. You might, as I said, sensibly have thrown it away or given it over to Helen to keep for you.

Many thanks for cashing the new check. Much better as with the other xeroz of memoirs not to spend one's time in the cold searching.

The Pro Juventute set will set Justus wild with joy. He is most careful about his books, though I have not seen them recently. He works at them with his mother, nights.

Heydt's bills are worth preserving also. Part of the record and who knows which part one will want to play. Kenneth's letter was indeed sad.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

9 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

A supplement to this letter went out rather earlier in the afternoon, partly because this letter would have been too fat, mostly in order to save a modest sum of postage. But alas, I'm not absolutely sure of what I gave Mrs H to send. There were the letters from Valentine and Nicholas which I thought you might like. Nicholas has the epistolary ease of his mother; Valentine's style is tight like his psyche. I wonder if I actually will see him before we go. But if not now then I have the opening for later. There was also the libretto for a short opera done by Jere Knight and a musician at Lehigh University out of Helen. I must confess to never reading libretti for enjoyment and I have no idea, without hearing the music, whether this is or will be good or bad. Whatever poetry Helen had been has been sacrificed for something almost like oratory. But this does no harm. The only catch, if a joke is not meant, is that the longer, full-length version Jere Knight seems to imply will be put on at Yale by the Drama and Music Schools combined with an imported ballet. Even for Hilda I will not devote myself to this grail. Her grail is her poetry; your grail for me is yourself and your fiction. Then I think Included was also Aurelia's long-delayed answer to my letter in which I offered to go out early (this Fall) to try to pull out the few things that might go into the Japanese volume. Quite suddenly I interpret her letter to indicate a weakening of resistance. But how can I get out. Yet the centenary is obviously the right time for a volume such as I contemplated. We can mull this over later. Now I am just back from an English Graduate School faculty meeting and must go home soon to dress and take Susan to the Boston Symphony. We go out less when we are travelling. February will soon be here.

My day began with a visit to the New Haven Hospital where I took all the breathing tests connected with my emphysema. The old doctor had gone, a year or more back; I was sent to the local man in that field but his office equipment for testing seemed primitive. Since everything is comparative I have no idea whether I am better or worse than 18 months ago. But I have at least got back into the rhythm of annual checkups in this field too, or so I hope and plan.

I spoke to Horace on the phone this afternoon. Had called yesterday but apparently no one was near the phone. He seemed well, despite the weather which makes it difficult for him in winter to walk with his support. He is in London in his revision of the memoirs and about to be elevated to Heaven (Ireland). Beyond that there could be nothing.

I am so glad you have begun the Renault. Pure Henty in one sense I am sure, but did a Henty character ever squabble with his mamma over his boy friend? This of course is only the beginning of what is to be a long book. I believe I was told by Schiffrin that originally it was to be a one-volume project; but when two were swollen into, it was decided to get two sets of sales up.

The best news of course from your letter of the 6th was of Perdita's decision to bring Timothy over. Elizabeth needs her stallion; Timothy will be just right for a dory. What fun this will be. Greenland, and that is an iffy (no need now to define) question, will certainly not be until mid or late July, possibly August. But I wonder if it will take place. * How odd that Horace should have pick up the shivers as an age-index, especially because one doubts that he shivered at home as a boy, ever. I slept on an outofdoors porch where the snow came in on me in drifts over my bearskin blanket. But you had no shivers.

bearskin of a bareskin to protect you. Your letter to him was superb, and made a bigger point than he may realize. It seems as if he were a great artist.

I am to arrange this!

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

He claims that no answer had been received by his publisher to their request to translate the *Freud* into French. So he asked if I would agree to his publication of it in three parts in his magazine. One smells a rat, for I phoned Pantheon: they had the letter written only November 27th which had expressed an interest in seeing the book. I think Stein was trying to stone me, but I will send a copy of the book to the publisher and see what they say. Since they made the first approach.

A girl from California (but I sent you her letter) comes on the 13th--a Saturday--but I certainly cannot see her until Monday. She blandly wishes to see everything on the assumption she can. She will see how wrong one can be.

The dentist tomorrow morning as I take another step in getting ready to be off. I have the new proposed schedule. They are checking reservations still in some spots. In Kyoto where we planned to go to a hotel while we settled in the flat, they were told no rooms would be rented except to those on a package tour. I will try to get the University of Kyoto to use its influence. One can't go from the plane to an unused flat. In Tokyo nothing is said to be available for the five days in June when Bizzie and her mother were to have gone. But the agency has not given up hope on that.

Poor Mrs H feels like a postgirl as she trudges to the postoffice with the packages. But most is now done, and Susan and I give no presents really, outside family.

N O R M A N
H O L M E S
P E A R S O N

2 3 1 H G S
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN • CONN

10 December 1969

Dearest Fido,

Having a 4 until 6 p.m. seminar gives me longer in which to prepare it, but makes it impossible for me to write afterwards on the same day. So although I am not really prepared, even for *The Blithedale Romance*, I sneak a moment after lunch before Mrs H returns, when the typewriter is free and my attention not yet involved by Hawthorne.

Last night we went to the Lawn Club for dinner, and then to hear the Boston Symphony, Leinsdorf returning to conduct it in Berg and Beethoven. Both were superb; I have never heard him conduct with more verve. This morning the gym, and then a series of odd bits connected with the tour that needed straightening out and were time-consuming. No rooms apparently available in Tokyo in mid-June for Susan and Lizzie; in Kyoto earlier when we arrive no hotels will rent rooms except as a packaged tour. Kyoto will be a madhouse. It is lucky we are to have an apartment.

Your evening letter of the 6th came this morning. I am so glad that Joan managed to reach you, we keep having rain but no snow. Probably it would be wise to have Maggs' evaluation of Osbert's ms here in case of unlikely disaster. As I said it will go to the bank when we leave, but I shall add to the insurance anyhow. As to the other books I have a signed statement, tho I think not witnessed, that the Elizabethan books etc are mine; and Maitre Coigny added the codicil, or rather part of the will which leaves all books and mss to me.

I will check the McAlmons. I would not let any lone copies of books by him go, but for one or two of the books he published with his press we have only one copy. I think duplicates of all others.

I use another set of the new art stamp. The color is poor for a trompe d'oeil such as this. I was told by Mrs Hilles, our hostess Sunday and a member of the trustees of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, that a painting by the same man was originally chosen from amongst those in the National Gallery in Washington. The Boston head of their museum (Boston) went to the director of the National Gallery, who was on the pstage stamp committee, and wept and said Boston was having its centenary of their museum and couldn't they substitute Boston's Harnett painting instead. The National Gallery man didn't care and thus you have the painting on the stamp. Which shows what tears can do.