December 7, 1941

Editors,

THE SOUTHERN REVIEW,
Louisiana State University,
Baton Rouge, La.

Dear Mr. Brooks and Mr. Warren:

I shall be home for a little while, and in that little
while, would like to look over what I might have done in the
way of stories.

I have some stories out to you people. I discussed them
briefly with Mr. Brooks when our troop convoy passed through
Baton Rouge, and Mr. Brooks was nice enough to offer some
comment on the stories by letter later on. I would have
appreciated the letter, indeed. But to me the time element
right now is important, so I'd like to call the stories back.

506 Pine
Boulder, Colo.

Sept. 23, 1941

Dear Mr. Warren:-

Here is another story. I have done
all I can possibly do with it now. I got my newspaper
novel down, and am about ready to do it again. I
think it is coming along. As far as I can tell Doubleday
Doran is very much interested in it.

I still think hard study is what I
need a great deal of. If I knew how to manage it finan-
cially and could pass the requirements I would take one
of your courses. I learned more from you than from anyone,
and have always felt you had a great deal more that I
want to have and to know. In the meantime--

I hope this story is worth your time.
Your words about the other one were most helpful.

Dorothy Tyler

642 Glynn Court
Detroit, Michigan

April 7, 1941

Mr. Cleanth Brooks, Jr.
Editor, SOUTHERN REVIEW

Dear Mr. Brooks:

I enclose a story, "Little Cause
for Carolling," which I shall be pleased to have
you read and consider for publication.

809 Knoxville Avenue
Peoria, Illinois

February 3, 1941

Dear Mr. Pipkin:

It may be necessary for me to introduce - or at best
reintroduce myself - since I have not published anything
under my own name since 1936. Until, and prior to, that
time, I published verse, short stories, reviews and
general articles in numerous magazines under the signature
identifying the three pieces of verse which I am enclosing
for your consideration.

It is my present intention to re-enter the field of
general magazine publication.

For the sake of better identification, perhaps I had
best add the names of a few magazines in which my
work was published. Out of a list of nearly fifty,
a few of them were: The New Republic, the old Haldeman-Julius
Quarterly, the Midland, New Masses, Windsor Quarterly,
the original, quarterly, Direction, Fiction Parade.

Mr. Charles W. Pipkin
The Southern Review
Baton Rouge, La.

C.N. Tay,
942 West 34th St,
Los Angeles,
California.
February 9, 1941.

The Editor,
Southern Review,
La State Univ.,
University, La.

Dear Sir,

I venture to submit the enclosed manuscript
on the internal and external issues of the
East Indies, hoping that it may meet your
consideration for publication. I had
presented the paper to Dr. Claude A. Buss,
Professor of International Relations at the
University of Southern California, who
promptly recommended it to his graduate
classes and suggested that I send it di-
rectly to you for your consideration.

I am at present studying International Re-
lations at the above-mentioned University.
Born in Sumatra and brought up in Singapore,
I had travelled throughout the Far East be-
fore I was affiliated with the Swatow Edu-
cational Association, China, and subse-
quently with the Faculty of Teachers in
Commerce, London, England. I have written
for the Singapore Chinese newspaper, "Sin
Chew Jit Poh," and for the New York magazine,
"Asia"; I have also translated Dr. Lin Yu-
tang's Chinese articles and obtained his
permission to publish them in the "World
Affairs Interpreter Quarterly". In the
meantime I am also attempting a book on the
history of Chinese philosophy and another on
the history and geography of Far Eastern
countries.

Enclosed please find a return envelope for
your convenience. If your kind reply will
arrive before Dr. Buss's departure for the
Philippines, I shall be most fortunate, since
I can then acquaint him with the result.

Enclosures:

Manuscript (25 pages)
Stamped return envelope.

Dorothy Tyler

January 17, 1941

Editors, THE SOUTHERN REVIEW

Gentlemen:

I shall be pleased to have you consider
the short essay I enclose, "A Dorset Worthy," about
Llewelyn Powys.

Top Flat,
6, Berkeley Square,
Bristol, 8.
21st November, 1940.

Dear Mr. Brooks,

I shall be grateful if you will
let me know whether you received the
article on Jacques Rivière which I posted
to you on 23rd January and the paper on
Racine's Phèdre which was sent a few days
later, in response to your letter of 20th
December last in which you were good
enough to say that you would be prepared
to consider some of my work for publication
in The Southern Review

(Martin Turnell)

Please note my further change of address

Mr. Cleanth Brooks, Jr.,
The Southern Review,
University,
Louisiana.

77, Oslo Court,
Prince Albert Road,
Regent's Park,
London, N.W.8.

4th February, 1940.

Dear Mr. Brooks,

As promised in my letter of 23rd January, I am
now enclosing the article on Racine. I am sending a paper on
<u>Phèdre</u> instead of the paper on <u>Athalie</u> mentioned in my first
letter. Dr. Leavis wishes to publish the <u>Athalie</u> in the coming
number of <u>Scrutiny</u>, and though I do not know to what extent your
readers see <u>Scrutiny</u> it occurred to me that you might prefer
something which has not been published in England. The present
article is also very much shorter than the <u>Athalie</u>.

Mr. Cleanth Brooks, Jr.,
The Southern Review,
University,
Louisiana,
U.S.A.

MONUMENT 2-4600

VICINITY
RIVERSIDE DRIVE
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
NEAR 122ND ST.

CLAREMONT RESIDENCE CLUB

A RESIDENCE CLUB CATERING TO
STUDENTS, BUSINESS AND PROFESSIONAL MEN AND WOMEN
140 CLAREMONT AVENUE
NEW YORK CITY

THE EDITORS
THE SOUTHERN REVIEW
THE LOUISANA STATE UNIVERSITY
UNIVERSITY, LA.

S I R S :

I AM SENDING TO YOU A MANUSCRIPT
ENTITLED, "THOMAS WOLFE: EXPLORER OF THE
BEAUTIFUL", WHICH I HOPE YOU WILL WANT TO
USE.

FOR PERSONAL IDENTIFICATION
ENCLOSE A CLIPSHEET CONTAINING A THUMBNAIL
VITA WHICH APPEARED IN AN EDUCATIONAL
JOURNAL A FEW YEARS AGO WHEN I WAS
COMMISSIONER OF SCHOOLS IN THE VIRGIN
ISLANDS.

6TH JANUARY, 1941.

THOMAS H. UZZELL

SHORT STORY • NOVEL • RADIO

A LITERARY GERM

STILLWATER • OKLAHOMA

CRITICISM • TRAINING • IDEAS

818 Monroe Street

March 4, 1942

Dear Mr. Pipkin:

I am writing this to ask as to your possible interest in a new book on which I have been working for five or six years and which is now nearing completion. One chapter has already appeared in the Saturday Review of Literature, and some other parts in other forms have seen print. I am enclosing a copy of the table of contents as it stands now.

This book attempts to do for the novel what I did for the short story in my "Narrative Technique", published by Harcourt, Brace and Company, which has been selling steadily for eighteen years and which I may fairly claim to be the standard in this field. My text is less a drill book than an exposition of the technical principles to be found in the best examples of all forms of the novel. My purpose is to provide for novelists, critics, teachers, and discriminating readers an exposition of the craft of the novel which I do not find in any of the many existing literary histories and volumes of literary criticism. Bernard DeVoto treated the subject in a series of articles in the Saturday Review of Literature a few years ago, but he did not cover the subject by any means, he didn't stick strictly to the subject, and I take exception to him in several respects.

THE UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN PRESS

811 STATE STREET · MADISON, WISCONSIN

January 10, 1942

The Editor
The Southern Review
University, Louisiana

Dear Sir:

In checking lists of books sent out for review we are distressed to discover that apparently the Southern Review did not receive a copy of T. Harry Williams' LINCOLN AND THE RADICALS. We are immediately mailing you the book.

If our records are at fault and the book was sent to you earlier, we shall be grateful for return of the second copy.

We are particularly regretful that you should not have had this book by a member of the Louisiana State University faculty as soon as it came off the press.

MR:VC

EDGAR VALK
INTERNATIONAL HOUSE
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO
CHICAGO

18th September: 1941.

The Editor,
The Southern Review,
Louisiana State University,
BATON ROUGE,
Louisiana.

Sir,

On the 15th August last I submitted to you my translation
of Mathilde Mann's German version of "Here Should Be Roses" by
the Danish poet Jens Peter Jacobsen. A stamped and addressed
envelope for the return of the manuscript was enclosed. As I
have neither had a reply to my communication to you nor received
the manuscript back, I am wondering whether it has gone astray.

Believe me,

15th August: 1941.

The Editor,
The Southern Review,
Louisiana State University,
BATON ROUGE
Louisiana.

Sir,

Enclosed I am submitting my translation of Mathilde Mann's
German version of "Here Should Be Roses" by the Danish poet Jens
Peter Jacobsen.

In view of the attention currently being paid in the literary
world to Rilke who was a profound admirer of Jacobsen and who in
his third letter of the series "To A Young Poet" specifically
mentions the sketch, a translation of which I am enclosing, I am
wondering whether your journal would be interested in the publication
of it. Should you deem the latter unsuitable, I would be very much
obliged if you were good enough to advise me of a literary periodical
that might consider the publication of the translation.

Attached is a stamped, addressed envelope for the possible
return of the manuscript.

Believe me,

Encl.

301 Panoramic Way
Berkeley, California

December 26, 1941

Editor
THE SOUTHERN REVIEW
Louisiana State University
Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Dear Sir:

I am submitting the enclosed article, "The Tragic Lament", to the THE SOUTHERN REVIEW for publication. As the article is a reworking of some of the material in my dissertation, THE TRAGIC LAMENT AND RELATED CAUSES OF ACQUIESCENCE IN TRAGIC DRAMA, Stanford University, 1941, it could be expanded. The comparisons between traditional tragedy, the problem play and the propaganda play might be developed in a second article on the two latter types. I should be glad to prepare the material if you think it advisable.

not
s n, senxael
1/14/42

ART HOBBIES WORKSHOP
TUCSON ARIZONA

BEULA WADSWORTH

May ...... 23
.... 1942 ...

The Editors, *The Southern Review*
Louisiana State University Press
Baton Rouge Louisiana

Dear Sirs:

I have written a 700-word article on extensions of technique in poetry, a rather technical dissertation, entitled, "Internal Sound Rhythms in Poetry." It sets up as an example of the skilled use of repetitions of certain sounds designed to evoke predictable emotional responses on the part of the reader, the poem entitled, "Summer Night Piece" by Amy Lowell and analyzes it by isolating line by line the letters short i, long i, s and sh, l, r and ar, m and n on corresponding lines opposite in a graph. The completed presents a picture exhibiting totals respectively of 14, 35, 24, 27, 25, and 51 (the last of m and n) thus focusing attention on the extent of this device as utilized by Miss Lowell. Furthermore, the article points out the feeling that each sound in repetition evokes and the effect of words the sounds of which resemble something in the poem as "serpent ... being a semblance of a small water-whirl soon spent."

If you would be interested in reading it in view of possible publication, I will gladly send it to you; and if the article is not acceptable, you may return it in the stamped, self-addressed envelope which would be enclosed.

Yours very truly

P. S. Anne Hamilton, poet and author, who has read this piece, suggested your publication.

640 West 139th St., Apt. 31
New York, N. Y.

June 3d, 1941

The Southern Review
Louisiana State University Press
Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Dear Sirs:

May I submit the enclosed verse for your consideration?

Should you find yourselves unable to make use of this
material, will you please return it to me.

Thank you for your consideration.

915 E. Huron
Ann Arbor, Mich.

Oct. 12, 1941

Dear Mr. Brooks:

I'm enclosing four poems, and would appreciate
your considering them for the Review.

It has nothing to do with the worth of the
poems, but I am a native Virginian and would be es-
pecially pleased to be published in the Southern Re-
view. While at the University of Virginia a friend
and I mimeographed probably the world's smallest poe-
try magazine, but until one recent acceptance by the
Saturday Review (Oct. 4 issue) I have been published
only in school magazines and "College Verse."

If you should have time for any brief comment,
I'd be very grateful.

100 Bedford St. S.E.
Minneapolis, Minn.

Sept. 13, 1941.

Mr. J. E. Palmer's Office,

Thank you very much for your consideration of the
enclosed story HATE. I am attending a writers' forum out here and
am considerably beyond my depth with such writers as Meridel Le Sueur,
Felix Noland and Mabel Seeley. This is my first completed story and
I guess there is no harm in repaying encouragement and kind efforts on
my behalf by starting it out.

1809 5/8 North Las Palmas
Hollywood, California

September 18, 1941

Mr. J.E. Palmer, Managing Editor
THE SOUTHERN REVIEW
University Station
Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Dear Mr. Palmer:

Would you be interested in an article on the character
of the ballad hero Robin Hood? As I have projected it,
the article would outline the main traits of the hero,
as depicted in English ballads. This work is based on
extensive research, but would be treated lightly. I
propose to conclude with a Robin Hood poem utilizing
all the usual traits of the hero in satirical fashion.
This poem is by a modern poet, my sister.

If such an article would interest you, will you kindly
so instruct me in the enclosed envelope? About how
long would you like it?

SW:s

2215 WOODLAND DRIVE
WASHINGTON
D.C. 20006

8/7/41

The Editor,

THE SOUTHERN REVIEW,

Dear Sir:

Being still anxious to make the
SOUTHERN REVIEW, I submit the enclosed.

I am very sorry I cannot renew my
subscription at the moment, but I have got
myself too involved financially. Best of
luck just the same. You may be interested to
know that I have at last got a book of verse
together which Macmillan is reading for me.

Margaret Wylie,
1179 N. Huntington Blvd., SECOND SUMMER
Pomona, Calif.

About 1500 Words

"But don't you see, I can't do that to Amanda...after all she has done for you...for both of us?"

The man's voice was forceful, but a note of tenderness was there too, and to the woman listening just behind the velvet curtains of the elaborate drawing-room, the tenderness was predominant.

"But Gill, she doesn't understand...she can't...she's too old."

Amanda Sellers winced at the unconscious cruelty of the young girl's words. This can't be happening to me, she thought dazedly... I can't really be standing in my own suite at the smart resort Hotel, listening to my young husband discussing me with my niece. It just isn't possible. They are in love...they want to marry! And I have never suspected it, all these weeks while we made a happy trio, swimming in the cool mountain waters, dancing, and rowing on the lake. And all the time they have been drawing closer together, this niece of mine, with her untouched youth, and the husband who is eight years younger than I am.

They were talking again, and she listened shamelessly, her clenched hands cold, her heart leaping and plunging like a wild thing, caught in some dreadful trap.

"Gill darling, I can't bear it...I can't! Isn't there something you can do with Aunt Amanda?"

The girl's tones were frenzied, and Amanda could imagine the appeal in her dark eyes lifted to Gill...those lovely young eyes.

"Would you suggest that I poison her?" laughingly demanded her uncle-in-law, "Those are blood-thirsty words, young woman."

2.

"I wish there were some way she could understand," the young voice went on, "But she's so old, and set in her ways. Oh, it isn't fair, it isn't in the least fair!"

There was a silence, while Amanda wildly pictured them in each other's arms, then the girl spoke again.

"If only she could understand how much it means to us... understand that youth is important, and must be served, or ... oh I know I sound silly and banal, but I'm so in love!"

Could this be Jenny's voice? The girl she had loved and cared for since the death of the child's mother ten years ago? Suddenly she hated the girl she had loved so deeply...hated the slim young body that scorned the system of elaborate dieting and drudging excerise needed to keep her own curves enticing. Hated the frank brown eyes with their fringe of short black lashes, the wide red mouth, so like her own, the softly curling dark hair, that had no need of permanents. Jenny, who had been her main reason for existence until she married Gill.

Oh, she had been warned...all her kind friends had seen to that. They had said she couldn't hope to hold a man eight years her junior ...they had said she would lose him to some younger girl.

"Oh Gill, I can't bear it," Jenny was sobbing now, and Amanda pictured her slim young body held close in her husband's arms, "It just can't end like this."

"But it must, darling," Gill answered, "I can't marry you, no matter how much I would like to do so. You must be a brave girl now, and forget all about it. You are very young...there will be other loves."

3.

Amanda went away then. Human endurance could bear no more.
Hurriedly she climbed the short steps to her bedroom, hurriedly she
dressed to go out. She would never stand in their way...never!
For a moment she studied the picture of Gill in the silver frame on
her dressing-table. He was so sweet...so essentially good. No wonder
Jenny loved him.

"Goodbye, goodbye, my dear," she whispered brokenly, and was
gone.

As her car roared from the garage, Gill stepped to the window
of the drawing-room, and looked out.

"That was Amanda," he said, surprised, "She said she was going
to play bridge with the Wilsons. Where do you suppose she could be
going at this time of night?"

The girl answered indifferently, her mind intent on her own
problem.

"I don't know. Just for a ride in the moonlight, perhaps. No-
one ever knows for sure what Aunt Amanda is going to do, at any given
time. Which is ridiculous at her age."

"She's only a child, really," laughed Gillian, "Despite what
you consider her great age."

It was to be his last laugh that evening. When he wandered
into Amanda's dressing-room in search of cigarettes, he found the
note, propped up on the table which contained his picture. It was
a short note, but to the point, and it was a wild young man who
passed his niece by marriage on a run to the garage.

He didn't underestimate Amanda's temperament. If she said she

4.

was going to bow out of the picture, and leave him to Jenny, she
would do just that. The woman had no fear. Time and again he had
seen her take chances with her life: skiing, togagganing, sailing
a boat in the races, at the controls of her plane, riding the worst-
tempered horses in her stables.

It was as if she bore a charmed life, and no longer feared the
enemy who seemed always to avoid her. She'll think it's like the
thousand and one times she has flirted with death, he told himself
as he pushed the car to the limit of safety and beyond on the narrow
mountain roads, she'll laugh, and then there will be a moment...his
heart lurched away from the thought. Surely she will be afraid at
the last moment. But there mustn't be a last moment, he cried aloud,
I must get there first.

Then he came to a fork in the road, and stopped with a screaming of brakes. Which way had she taken? Oh God, if he took the wrong turning!

Only a moment he hesitated, then turned north, where the road
climbed still higher above the sleeping valley. Surely she would go
as high as possible, before...he prayed that he had chosen rightly.

Then he saw her, above him, going like the wind. He shouted to
her, but his voice was lost in the noise of the two cars, climbing
to the top of the world.

He put on speed, shutting his mind to the possibility of toppling
over the unprotected roadway to the black nothingness below. He had
never been a daredevil, he hated these sickening heights, but he
pushed on recklessly, incoherently calling her name.

At the last, he was just in time. His car pushed hers over to
the safety of the mountainside, just as she was nerving herself for

47

5.

the jump.

Springing out, he had her in his arms in a second of time. Arms
that gripped like steel.

"Amanda! Are you all right?"

"Let me go! Let me go, I tell you! Of course I'm all right."

He turned her face to his, and looked at the wild blue eyes,
the tumbled curls. Always he had seen Amanda immaculate, every hair
in place, even when she was taking chances with her life.

"Darling," he chuckled, "I love you all tousled and torn. You're so...so sweet. Like a kid."

"Don't bother, Gill," she said wearily, "You don't have to pretend, you know."

"Pretend?" For a moment he stared at her puzzled. Then he laughed.

"Oh, you must mean that idiot niece of ours! She fancies she's
in love with that young aviator you have forbidden the house...
really darling, isn't that a bit medieval of you? And you thought,
you precious goose..."

"Oh Gill, you're not lying to save my pride?"

"What do I care about your pride? Don't you know there's not
another woman on this earth I would look at twice, especially a half-
baked youngster like our niece? Honestly, Manda, I thought you had
more sense. Since I am captain of a yacht, she thought I could marry them."

She began to laugh then, and he joined in, and still laughing,
they got in their respective cars, and drove very carefully home,