NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN • CONN

14 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

I will have talked to you after finishing this letter, and no doubt all will be told by voice as well. Still you should have letters, and I ought to accompany the enclosed by at least a note to you.

The day I fear has been frittered. But I walk a little lamely because of the phlebitis and so accomplish somewhat less than I otherwise might have. Still, the Japanese admirer has paid his formal call, bringing as a gift my name carved on a grain of rice (I shake it for good luck), and a piece of cloth for Susan. He is pleasant, deferent, rather scared, speaking an English which I find easy to understand but the American Studies office does not, a little pimply but eager for whatever he can get. He is here on a modest grant, so I may get him to move books for me occasionally to supplement his income. He had hardly gone when a visiting German arrived from Providence with his wife and 2 and 1/2 year old son, to be taken to lunch and then shepherded while he asked me questions about the Puritan use of "light" as a figure of speech. Beyond my scope of knowledge, I am afraid, though I was able to make a suggestion or two. I had met him a couple of years ago, as the protege of the professor at Freiburg i/B and then helped this protege to get a three-month grant to work at the John arter Brown Library in Providence.

Otherwise I picked at my desk. I did re-read Hilda's letters to Flint since they dealt with the Cournos period we discussed. I overstated their endeanments. There were none, simply warm regard for Flint and his wife. One was written in the May before you and Hilda were to go to Florida. You were interested in starting an out-of-door school and Hilda wondered, for you, if Flint's daughter might not attend. She did mention something which intrigued me, and I wondered if by some chance your usually fabulous memory might recall what it was all about. I write rather than ask in person since the memory just might pop into mind. She says to Flint, "Was it you that sent me the yellow box and contents?--If so, I must thank you and write you later of some fairy tales I have re-discovered in its depths."

You will have known viva voce that I cancelled the appointment to receive the Austrian representative of some branch of their government, which had been planned for Tuesday, and instead will see you for lunch if that is convenient for you. Or for tea if you prefer and want to squeeze in another guest.

We plan to move in now to town on Saturday, so that phone calls from then on should be to 203-624-3487. The September air has been wonderful and one will miss the shore, but it grows colder and I shall not miss having to make the trip over the bridge while it is being repaired.

Hope the Manhattan march keeps in step.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN

15 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

If my typing is a little awkward it is because my right arm is tightly bound at the elbow. I went to take my breathing and blood tests, a quarterly event for awhile: they put novocaine in before they drew their capsules of blood, and then my arm refused to cease oozing. The doctor held his thumb on the vein for twenty minutes, then put a tight bandage on for an hour, took it off, put another on and sent me away. Meanwhile I had been waiting for the results and a conference with the chef, but he stayed on in clinic and is to phone me. I feel a little like Pup's Elizabeth since I really have to pass the tests in order to stay in the biggest school of all.

Oddly, having written that pretentious sentence I heard the phone ring and it was the doctor. All of the tests were better than in January, and even better than the ones taken in 1959. Best of all the oxygen content had taken what he called a remarkable improvement, from 68 to 79. The ideal, he said, which none has, is 100, but the normal range is from 80 to 90. 79 is near enough to trouble no one, but the 68 had frightened him. He seemed terribly pleased, and so of course was I. "Very encouraging," was his comment. I go again in January.

I have done less well with keeping my right leg elevated and heating pads on it, but if I stay in the other office I cannot write you or be available (for the moment) to a telephone. Your letters of the 12th and 13th were in today's mail together. Congratulations on your typewriter; as with an Avis car it is the sensible way to operate. I had kept meaning to ask about Elizabeth; it sounds somewhat like Lizzie one year when she failed everything but then passed everything in her make-ups. The question is one of aroused interest. The aunt's advice is good; I believe she is very able, and certainly has a good reputation. What an affair about D.R.'s picture! Rose thought it very good but wondered where on earth he got it. I suspect the Glikin may be right; that sort of thing is what she is good at. What people dislike is her aggressiveness and pushing. She has no social sensitivity whatsoever, and one does not know how much literary sensibility. # Sorry you had such bad luck with Hammacher Schlemmer. # I recall the review of Helen's Russian book, it was a good one; and she had a full page review of Simonon who must make her feel that she lies with a god's gold showering down on her.

A nice letter in from Mary Benjamin thanking for her check for the Dorothy Richardson letters. Winifred Myers, the London dealer, was among the several that wanted all three letters advertised. If Miss Benjamin had read Louise Bogan's review before cataloguing them they would have been far far higher.

A nice but painful letter from the New York lawyer with his bill for recovering the insurance money for Horace. I think I told you we have now reached the limit (by we I mean they and I). It was expensive but without the lawyer I should have gotten back nothing. I have asked, for the sake of the record, to have the account made up of all that was expended. The law firm had to hire an accountant to "untangle the confusion."

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Then a brief flashback to Nova Scotia. You may remember the newspaper picture of the little boy with the fish and his father whom I knew at Yale. This was why I asked you for the paper back. "It was darn nice of you to send me the Vanguard. Tom will be thrilled to see his picture in the paper & I am sure he will bring it to school & show it to the kids." I'll send Migdalski's letter on to Harry Brooks; it will be an excuse to thank him and prove that I did know the man; Brooks put him up when Ed first went to the tuna carnival.

A letter from the Seven Gables Bookshop, billing for some bindings made for the Beaumont and Fleachers but this cost can be applied against the 200.00 I got for selling the duplicate *Rule a Wife and have a Wife*. Actually I will simply keep this as a credit towards whatever they may turn up that would make a good addition to the group. More interesting to you however was the evaluation they finally put on the Mesmer *Theorie du Monde* you had once given Walter. They rate it at $1,250.00 which I suspect must be a marked increase over what you originally paid.

Another Japanese arrival today.

I flee now to the other office to hoist my leg.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

17 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

I suspect this may be my last letter to you in the States, and indeed I had not thought to write it. But I discovered only last night that the wife of a friend, René Weklek, had died from an overdose of sleeping pills and her funeral held on Thursday without my knowing anything of it. So I wanted to write him a note, tho I hardly feel guilty since there was nothing in the paper about it. We are solemnly told she did not commit suicide, tho in long ill health, because her husband had seen her taken seven pills the day before. This had become a regular habit. But in my vocabulary such an intense desire for oblivion is little more than a thinly disguised death wish. But what does it matter? She was unhappy alive and now she isn't. But René will be completely helpless, and not the kind to marry a schoolgirl.

I was good yesterday and spent the day mostly sitting with my leg up. As a result I think it is a little better, but you are most kind to come up on Tuesday. I feel guilty in having you make the trip, though it pleases Susan to think she will see you again, and that you will have the chance to see us for a moment at Goodrich Street. The missing furniture is back; we went this morning to the shore to bring back my clothes and most of what was left. All that will be missing when you come will be the silver and the Elizabethans. But they will stay in the bank until we come back from England. The little B & F's I had bound have just come however, as well as one of the volumes from your British dramatist set whose binding had come off and which I had repaired.

Yesterday morning, late, I took the Dean of the Yale architecture school, Charles Moore, who had a reputation in an Francisco, to the shore to look at the ocean side of the cottage. He was much taken with the approach from the road and will work to give us a terrace with some real character, facing the sea. He will open up the window space too somewhat so that from inside one can really see the sea. But not a huge picture window, and the tone of the present room will be kept. I think I was lucky to be able to persuade a man of his reputation to take on so slight a commission. But it is his first domestic job here, except for his own house, and I feel sure he will do his best if for no other reason than being on a spot where the result will be seen. Who knows, when you come next year, you may be able to use a trapeze at the shore. Something, at any rate, will be different.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

There is little chance that this will be actually waiting for you at Kenwin, though I should naturally like to think that I was not completely in New Haven nor absolutely en route to London but a little bit with you always.

This morning I certainly have. For after a lengthy meeting with a Japanese professor and his wife who is a Japanese professor in, I settled down to write to McCormick at Doubleday about Kay Boyle's book. In so many ways it would have been far simpler not to have been involved in the matter at all, but the Game hinted that I should try to see the manuscript before publication rather than make my howls afterwards. Ernst, Cane & Gitlin tell me, as you will have read tomorrow that there is no legal basis for libel. So I have tried an indirect persuasion by a letter you will also have read. I only hope I am not misunderstood by the publishers or by you.

I long of course for tomorrow when I can see you. In case I forget, all the packages have gone off: to Pokross and to Gretchen, to the Richards, and to you. And, also, a winter coat to the wife of a professor in South Korea. How dreadful that he should have to write to ask. How ducky I always feel.

This afternoon I have a visiting French scholar. I wonder if I really am on leave.

Greetings to Elsie and to Ines. And

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

20 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

You are gone when I write this letter. I had thought to phone again after lunch, but what was there to gain by repeating laments at your departure and gratitude to you for coming up yesterday. I am glad you came; your visit ensured my foot in the air; you had the chance to see the new chair and the house in order; we all had our visit, and we even got some business accomplished. I only hope you enjoyed the greater quiet of our terrace to a longer stream of visitors to the Stanhope.

The missing letter came this morning, though one cannot really
call it missing--only delayed. The "enty girls will not be able to help the
quail with his bibliography; they know nothing of that sort of thing, and have
sold what books they have--first to the library in the outskirts of London and
then to the man who sold them to Indiana I can tell him this if he asks me
when I see him. In many ways I prefer not to go to him, but better to keep
in until we know about his books and other Ballantyne material. # Lettice Cooper
apparently is doing well with her reprints. I feel sure the sessions on the
couch are a true release to her. # Wendy's accident must indeed have been a
blow, but I suppose better to have happened in Turkey than, say, in Bulgaria.
One is equally sorry that her try-out with the boy friend did not work as expected.
But better to have found out now, and I feel sure she will end up with another
more satisfactory arrangement. I rather guess she is working towards a book
on Turkey, and I should think it would be a good one. In some ways she might
do well to spend a year or so there, though not with Michael and Mary directly.
I liked her earlier book and this would be a fresh field. Better surely, as
subject matter, than Switzerland for her.

My only letter of interest came from Rose, addressed to you and to
Susan and myself as an appropriate trio. I take it home tonight and then send
on tomorrow. Apparently Horace still has not had xerox copies made of the various
reviews; Marya wrote once she was having some made for me, and I could have sent
them on. They do mean much to Rose, this letter was most cheerful. I would gather
she actually had sent a birthday book to you here, but I will let you know when it
arrives and see whether you wish me to send or bring over when I come.

I have just squandered fifteen dollars to order <u>A Dictionary of Angels</u>
written by a Gustav Davidson, ex Secretary of the Poetry Society of America, who
got into an involved correspondence with Hilda about the subject. Each collected
angels the way Justus does stamps, but whether a cancelled angel is more desirable
than an uncancelled one I simply don't know. He began writing to me, and sending
me offprints of his genealogies, but outside of yourself I really know no angels
and I always think of you as self-begotten, hence genealogyless.

Chiefly, I think, thanks to yesterday's rest, my foot seems a little
better today. The doctor says simply to keep off it as much as I can. But that is
not easy.

It <u>has</u> been a memorable three weeks, and will help to sustain me.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

Your last letter came from New York, the only ray of light in an otherwise frustrating day. My office phone has not properly operated either yesterday or today, despite my repeated appeals to Repairs, and those of others who have tried to reach me. Now, having called angrily once more they once more promise to come, before six. So I wait.

However by dialing the city Operator to dial a number for me I can speak outside, and so I phoned the travel agency about London reservations. (He had made his own protesting reports to Repairs, after so often failing.) Everything is set up for the Grosvenor House and I see no reason why that should not do perfectly well. It is not so convenient for you, but within walking distance. I gather we are lucky. But if your club won't take you, perhaps our club will.

I forgot to tell you yesterday that I was solaced when I took my torn coat back to the tailor on the basis that the pocket had been ripped twice. Ah, sighed the little tailor: "I forgot; I didn't do anything at all, see...." And he showed me the chalk marked directions he hadn't followed. I picked it up this morning, before going to the bank to cash a check sufficient for me to take the grandchildren to the county fair tomorrow afternoon. Five one dollar bills for each of them to spend as desired, and then no more. But I had better have an extra dollar tucked away. I converted, sadly, the five Canadian bills I still had--each worth ninety cents. Fortunately one cannot convert happy memories; they are always worth 110 cents on the dollar.

I spoke to the vice-president of the bank about the transfer by sale of the land at the shore. He says the bank (another one) has advised the executors to sell at the price offered by me and the others, and only one of the heirs remains to be convinced. So I may be able to conclude all that soon. I should feel much more secure.

Then a longish period with a French scholar who has come to do his second these for the D. es Lettres, on Hilda's poems, so one does not feel really on leave of absence. And then a rather anguishing hour with a young man I had met three years ago when he graduated from Yale and was going into the Navy. I had apparently told him to look me up when he got out. He is out, and phoned earlier in the day to say he was in a troubled state of mind and wondering when I could talk to him. Something made me say this afternoon, and it was just as well from the point of view psychiatry. After a year in the Navy he had married a high school graduate who had been working as a secretary for four years and with whom he had happily sleeping during the last of college. After his marriage he sent her to college for a term and then to the University of New Hampshire for the two years he was overseas on intelligence work. She fell in love with her ceramics instructor, and now wants to leave him and weeps at a kiss and when she lies lies stiff as a board. That is the situation: what made him seek me out I can't guess. I won't try to repeat the situation except that I suggested that pride perhaps played an

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

even greater role than what he called love, in his own personal drama. In any event he seemed grateful, thought it worked better than with the professional psychiatrist he had seen this summer at Harvard, and perhaps I ought to petition for one of the Sachs grants for the use of p.a. in related fields. I think he agreed that there was no right or wrong, justice or injustice, guilt or innocence, and so to take her home to her mama since he never really had been married, nor had she.

When you were here on Tuesday I meant to show your the pamphlet
dropped at our door by the Republican candidate for mayor of Hamden.

VINCENT RICHO
FOR
MAYOR

"If we could first know where we are,
and wither we are tending,
we could better judge what to do,
and how to do it."

Abraham Lincoln

I know how both Lincoln and Richo must feel, for sometimes it seems as though I
too lived on withering heights.

Your dividend return from the co-op has just arrived by mail, for
$6.37. I will, as last year, return the check to them and ask to have your account
credited for that amount. I sent your extra check to them while you were here.

I enclose the **Odle** letter to you, you can yellowback it in return some
time. I have acknowledged the letter and sent her the original of the Glikin letter
to the *N.Y. Times*, keeping a xerox of it for the record. Perhaps in November I can
borrow the reviews from Horace and have xerox prints made for her. Rose, I thought,
more warmly and happily than usual. The Times review obviously pleased her.

Gallup reports that a visiting research scholar had read the ms of Kay
Boyle's book, apparently for the publisher, and didn't think the two parts jelled
very well. And he mentioned what I think I rather naughtily pointed out to you, that
the Together of the title now included her. I sent her off her manuscripts she wanted
to sell, to her by air express. God knows, I hope they arrive safely.

Trust by now the kennel has been properly re-sniffed and that you are
enjoying British static nightly over the wireless.

All love, as ever —

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

You have been made to suffer for the sake of Original Sin. I have not written you for two days, neither on Friday nor on Saturday, and were it not that I had come back to the office primarily to type out the last three pages of a foreword, so it could be posted tonight, I might not have written you for three.

The foreword is to a collection of essays by Randall Stewart who helped me so much at the beginning of my interest in Hawthorne and was really responsible for my edition of the Italian notebooks and my work on the letters (an edition he was originally to have done with me.) It should have been done by August 1st, and has been nagging me. I could not seem to concentrate on it, get my mind fixed on what to say. Partly because as a Southerner and a conservative, and the son of a Baptist minister, he reverted to all three origins and found Christian doctrine and Original Sin behind everything. Well, it's done now -- though not to my satisfaction -- and will be off, and if they do print it then you can see it.

I have been typing away at it on both days of silence, a silence broken only on Friday by a promise to take the two grandchildren to a county fair. If I waited much longer there would be none, and a promise is a promise. With the wisdom of Solomon I gave five one-dollar bills to each to spend as he or she chose. Little Susan with female thrift ended up with two dollars unspent to take home. My only bond was on the mouth, when I wanted to say why don't you try another ride, or another chance board. Reason was on my side, or would have been; but the fun of squandering was on theirs. It wasn't all rides and chances: I could have spent both hours watching the oxen drag their loads in contest; or with the feathered-bonnet-hens, or the sheep, or the full-uddered cattle. If I had been a Rockefeller I would have been a farmer, I think--or had a farm so that I could see my own cattle grazing.

Yesterday the day was cut off by our having to go to a reception where two young and recently married grandchildren were presented with their mates.

This morning I stayed at home, revised the foreword, and began reading the manuscript of a book on Hawthorne that must get off before we do. Later I went to a friends to see the Vanderpoels, he who restores Pompeii and had Islay photograph their children and whom I last saw at Kenneth's in Rome. They report, I having asked for the sake of rumor, how K was doing. They thought wonderfully well, but then I was sorry to gather that the feeling is that he didn't want to go on the trip, Islay insisted, therefore Islay was responsible. I didn't comment, naturally, and I pass on only because I wonder if Kenneth himself feels this? It might be a part of the picture, but not a happy part, Islay having done so much for him. I doubt that Kenneth feels that way anyhow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON
233 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN

26 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

A busy day after I wrote you yesterday, and lucky that I did when I did. Paul Blum who used to work for me during the war, first in Lisbon and then in Switzerland, and now lives in Tokyo, came for the day and night to see me. I have always liked him, and we saw a good deal of him in Japan. Some talk of the old days, and he laughed to remember how he listened with awe to Kim Philby give an hour lecture on double agents. After all who should know more? I knew that McAlmon was always a bête noir of Paul's, he didn't find him charming after a nip or two, so I asked about Laurence Vaill (you having asked). Vaill is alive, he says, or was two years ago, living in Paris and doing very well painting bottles. I asked if he meant still lifes of bottle? No, bottles, with colors, for lamp stands. It appears Vaill himself never had any money oustide of what the Guggenheim supplied. Blum particularly liked the sister but agreed that her relationship with her brother was wholly incestuous, but that she had married a Frenchman (a wine merchant) and been very happy with them. She died long since; the wine merchant, Paul still knew. Vaill's sudden anger in bars he thought was a kind of pose, the sort of thing people did. But he agreed he was never a model of sanity. And often boring as when night after night when they drove by a drab house in Montmartres Vaill would gesture and exclaim, "There I lost my virginity." People would wait, knowing that the statement would come. A pparently he visited Vaill and Boyle often--Vaill's children, Boyle's children, the ones they had in common all roaring like mad, running around, while Kay sat at the kitchen table calmly writing.

To finish off earlier references to the Boys, I was interested to hear that Yale had bought Cousin David's collection of Uncle Norman. I can't really imagine what he could have had, but I daresay it helps to fill out the later years.

Many thanks for your second letter of the 22nd, and the 23rd. I have not had time to read all the enclosures in detail, but agree with you that one might as well let Catha sell the Aldington letters for the price offered. I of course cannot have the slightest idea of whether they were or were not worth the offer or more, but it would have cost a thousand dollars probably to get Rota over anyway. You and I can like to think that perhaps Southern Illinois offered more because we told her to count twice. At least for her sake, I hope so.

Sorry at the news about the Herring. It does sound as though he might have been pickled. I will write Mrs Wylde about the letters. I am most grateful to you for warbing her. And me. Very good news indeed about Jacques Beney. I am completely sure this will be best all around. Banking would have had a bad taste for him no matter how good he was. And obviously he was not strongly drawn to it. # As to Elsie, I am all the stronger in the belief that a servantless Kenwin may be the answer to your wish to get rid of it. I close now, at the end of the day, to take it to the P.O. to post.

27 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

My life becomes an absolute shambles as I try to get things
in order before I go. There is simply too much to be done, especially
this blasted meeting of the New England American Studies Association,
of which I am President, to be held on November 11th. I can't seem to
get speakers for it, and the program must go out or be arranged before I
leave next Monday evening. I am past praying for.

The early morning went to a visit to the travel agency to
pick up my tickets and pay for them. Then to the broker's to pay for
the stock they had bought with what I had sold. I am glad to say the
mistake was theirs, and I owed them 2,000 less than they had charged me.
(They had already discovered the error and sent out a corrected bill.)
Then to the Savings bank to transfer funds to the bank where I keep my
checking account, and thus to put in another money to cover the checks
I had just drawn, in addition to enough to pay for travellers checks to
use while in Ireland and England. The morning was gone before it was
over with all the errands. Then after lunch I went to the doctor's to
have my last prick.

But even between beginning and finishing that paragraph I
was interrupted by long phone conversations. What kind of a leave of
absence is this, anyhow?

The afternoon is at an end, but your two letters of the 24th
and one of the 25th fill me with a kind of panic for you. I can't help
feeling Elsie is bullying you. Pershaps she doesn't mean to in the normal
sense of the word, but in the inner p.a. realm this is just what is
happening. OR, of course, as you say, she is not well and fears going to
the doctor lest the truth be made known to her and to him. In one sense
it may be just as well for her to take the Istambul trip, with the
responsibility on her brother and sister for taking care of an emergency.
Who chouldn't they! Not you, who will be in England. This is what I
suggest. But if the situation is better when she returns then I think
you must be firm and insist that she see Blum, tears or no tears on her
part. And if you have to close Kenwin before Christmas, for the winter,
then so be it. Better to delay the memoirs another than to lose your
sanity. I pray for the 10th to come so that you can clear out for Zurich
and the Way to the West.

There was nothing in the Weaver letter to you to worry about.
Tell Mrs Lidderdale she can quote to her heart's content. I remember the
situation. Thelma Wood I only vaguely know of, but can find no reference
in these wretchedly indexed memoirs. Donald Gallup did not know either.
In time I can write Kay Boyle or ask Blum tomorrow morning. But tonight it
is too late.

I think of you. Courage ma bave.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

28 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

I am going slowly mad, though from different reasons than your own madness. The day of departure grows closer, but I still do not know what I can have as the program for the New England American Studies meeting on November 11th. I sit at the phone and try to contact people; the operator promises they will call; they never do. Still, at least I have finished reading the manuscript of a book on Hawthorne's mythology, written by an acquaintance, the publication of which depends so it seems on the grant of a subsidy by the Canadian government. Luckily it is good enough to warrant the grant.

It is late morning, but for once I had better not let myself get caught as on recent days. I'm not sure that there is anything to repeat about Elsie. It is not right for any friend, no matter what the relationship, to involve another in the way she is involving you. A tumor may or may not be involved, but no matter what the cause may be there is certainly a disturbance of the psyche. If she does happen to see Blum again before she leaves for Iştambul I think you should quietly talk to him on the phone beforehand. It might be as well to do so anyhow when you are in Montreux, for I think you have only public phones at Kenwin.

With Lidderdale I should say yes, quote as she wishes to. I phoned Paul Blum, ex of Paris, in New York about Thelma Wood but he had never heard of her. And she was in none of the indexed memoires, though her name is familiar. Actually Blum was mid and late 'Twenties, and Kay Boyle is that time too. Just say alas. # The new stamps are handsome. So much better than our own commemoratives. I have asked for new ones for you to give your beneficiaries, but there is nothing since Davy Crockett.

I shall be interested to know how your interview with Fides went. I suspect Coigny has power enough so that he could actually arrange a transfer of domicile to Zurich. At least I don't see why you shouldn't ask him. On your side is the fact of your long residence in Switzerland. But as to doing whatever you do in terms of being able to leave more, this is sheer madness rather than generosity. People want you, alive, rather than anything after. And people need you, alive, too. You will simply keel over out of exasustion of the psyche if you have to go on this way. I am, you can see, suddenly switching over to getting rid of Kenwin. I am serious when I think you should talk to Maitre C about how to go about it.

To go back to the earlier group of letters as of Tuesday. I suppose the Greenland holiday is simply booking on the ones set up by the Danes. At least it sounds so, except for the helicopter trips to see the 'abundant wild life.' I should doubt the claim that "Greenland tourists can see a wider array of wild animals in their natural habitat than almost anywhere else on earth." # Mrs Brodie did seem pleased with your letter, and you may well have stumbled on to something with your blue book. It will be interesting to see what she turns up. You might like to see Mrs Brodie sometime when you make your California trip. # I really can't see why Collins bought "Better Books" if they were only to close it up eighteen months after. They must have known what it was they bought. Most odd, since there could hardly have been any competition. # About Catha, I think we spoke. Who knows whether or not she is getting a good price, but one can hope that whatever is forthcoming is more than she or Kershaw would have otherwise had. It will be interesting to know what sort of a painting she chose for you. # I agree with O.B.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

the Arts Council might equally well support outlets as well as sources of literature. For what good does it do a writer to experiment when there's no place to help the experiment communicate. However I am a little surprised that artists and others can't manage their own shows at intervals. Or their own bookshops on a co-operative basis. The smaller the better. But I suppose they actually would be distracted. O.B. one way or another still manages to be in a lot of shows, despite the slump. # I will try to write Hildegarde Wylde this afternoon or tomorrow.

Must close now and go to lunch, and then a little shopping--for film and toothpaste and perhaps a pair of rubber-soled shoes for cross-country in Ireland. I hate to have the extra weight, but in wet weather I should otherwise be lost.

No letters from you in the morning mail, but perhaps something will have come since. They tend to bunch.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN·CONN

29 September 1967

Dearest Fido,

The day has been dedicated completely to the Meeting of the
New England American Studies Association meeting, but God be thanked that
everything now seems to be in order so far as I can work it out. Yesterday
afternoon I managed to get a speaker for the afternoon session. And I leave
the dinner speaker to Connecticut College who are to be the hosts. The
chief thing is that I can fly on Monday without the feeling a sinking ship
left behind me. I should have arranged everything last Spring. But I was
too tired, and the Summer has been too complicated.

Your letter of the 26th came this morning, for which my thanks.
You have certainly had a busy time. Am glad that you mentioned the domicile
to Fides. The Maitre would know if anyone could. And glad that he agreed
as to the gesture towards John Schaffner. It isn't a thing one has to do,
but is nice to have done. As to the rest of the problem I leave entirely
to your and his judgment. I have already been so generously helped that it
would be understandable enough to let it go as it now is. I had not known
about non-relatives; does that include Kenneth also, since the divorce
alters that. But anyhow, as we once said, and as Beney also agreed in one
of his saner moments, the less public the better.

I will simply leave all London plans until we get there and know
what you have worked out. I might try the quail on the 17th, or museuming
or any of a number of possibilities and duties. I want to do some booking if
I can, and am taking along lists of "wants".

I do hope things are working out a little more smoothly, and that
Elsie's health is better, and her mood with it. I shall be happy when you get
to London. We fly Monday night and are from Tuesday noon until Friday at the
Royal Hibernian. I should think you might not want to risk letters, and take
the chance otherwise to clear your desk before going. Just keep a little journal
for me so I can have caught up with your hours and days later.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

30 September 1967

Dearest Fido:

Sometimes I have the fancy that I am getting ahead in my preparations to leave. Then I suddenly realize that the minute hand has been moving on the clock, and I am not much farther than where I was. Still, I suppose something gets accomplished, and I must say I am eagerly awaiting the moment when the bus drives away from the Hotel Taft.

Your letter of the 27th was in this morning's mail, unusual for a Saturday. How awful it is that mine of the 21st only got to you on the 26th. I was fascinated by your conversation with Sarasin. What a pity he cannot put it all down. I am not surprised that Jones was jealous of Sachs, just as I somehow felt Anna was a little jealous that Hilda was more or a daughter than she. And Anna was certainly jealous of Jones for being more of a son than she wanted to be. Put differently, she wanted to be her father's son too, his successor as doctor. I remember the Lacan article, and bought a copy of the issue when I returned. It was on Structuralism.

Good to know that Elsie gets closer to departure, and, I gather, things quiet a little. God knows they should!

To return to Anna Freud, Prokross sent me a copy of her letter of agreement, in which however she said she wondered if some funds couldn't go to her work in England. He wondered at your reaction. I wrote I would take letter to you and discuss. My own view, as I said, being that it is better to concentrate on one objective, the training of more psychiatric help in Sachs-ony (Boston) since this was a fund in his memory. I will bring, and we can discuss. No point in writing him until we talk; meanwhile I have said to go ahead as originally planned.

A very nice letter indeed from I.A.Richards thanking for the knife. I daresay he or Dorothy will be writing you to add thanks.

Have just today written Prutting to thank him for his very able article on post-mortems. I am of course entirely on his side. Once the war was over we had our own postmortems of the cases we ran, examining from the point of view of the German records to find if our diagnoses had been correct. How otherwise could we learn?

When my Tokyo friend, Paul Blum, who worked for me during the war, was here during Monday he told me that the greatest dealer in Japanese things, anywhere, is a friend of his Felix Tikotin, 13 Route des Cyprès, 1802 Corseaux, Vaud. Is that far from you. It would be fun for me to drop in on him some time. One must, I understand, have a letter of introduction, which makes it sound expensive.

I enclose a copy of our itinerary, but doubt that you will want to risk writing, unless to await our return to the Royal Hibernian. But then I will be seeing you the day after.

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

1 October 1967

Dearest Fido,

I played hookey this afternoon and watched the Red Sox in their final
baseball game against Minnesota. Fortunately I did not bring them bad luck, as I
usually do at sports, and they won even after being behind. All this loyalty of
course stems from my Massachusetts days. I once had a Red Sox banner in my bedroom
as a boy. That was after World War I when they won a title.

So the morning and just now have been spent again pouding out letters
to clear my desk as much as possible before we leave tomorrow. I must say at
least some do get out, and I ought to go away more frequently so as to provide more
deadlines that must be met with a rush. A few more frivolous tasks get done also,
because I cannot forget our Dusty Diamonds. I ordered American firsts of A Lion of
St Marks, With Cochrane, and Won by the Sword, which I saw in a catalogue, but I
daresay all will have been sold. So, no doubt, will a Manville Fenn, The Khedive's
Country which was ina catalogue from England.

We went last night to a musical review, *How Now, Dow, Jones!*; rather
unusually (for a musical) being about Wall Street and the stock market. Some of the
music was fresh, the dancing was good, the sets were original, and the first act
amusing. But on the whole I shall continue to go to Wall Street for stocks rather
than entertainment.

I heard a fragment this noon at the tail end of a radio announcement
the name Philby and the fact he was reputed to have been head of British actvities.
But whether this meant a reference to the beginning of the articles in The[ London]
Times or to something else I don't know. I daresay the papers tomorrow will clarify.
I shall have to get hold of the article, if that was what it was, when I get to London.

Will write again tomorrow, but I must skip home now. All love as always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

2 October 1967

Dearest Fido,

This is really a last gasp as well as a last letter. But
at any rate it is a letter, and tomorrow when I write it will be from
Dublin. This is hard for me to believe, but I cannot tell you how glad
I shall be to get away from it all here. It has seemed like an endless
treadmill all summer, except for your visit.

Your letter of the 28th did come, and there will be the
carbon for me in Dublin. It doesn't matter not hearing from Sachie.
He is probably away on a jaunt, or too busy. It would have been
pleasant to see him, but there will be other chances.

You do have your adventures with your old dames. # As
for the Quail, one either goes up and back in a day by car or one does
by train. I do _not_ go for overnight.

A very nice letter from Hildegarde in this noon's mail.
I have just written her. She wants to know what happens to the things
after the biography. I said Yale, and that of course I would want to
pay for them. I agree we should. It can come out of Hilda's royalty
money. What better use for it?

I have spent most of the morning checking a Grolier Club
article on the Hawthorne exhibition. Whoever did it was shockingly careless
with his transcriptions from the letters. But there were moments when
I wondered why I should have to go to all this work at the last moment.

Far too much remains undone, but it is now after three. I
must go solemnly around locking all the filing cabinets, and then traipse
to Mrs Sherman to leave doorkeys and directions with her. And then home
to pack.

All love yo Well I meant all love to you; but all love you
too.

NORMAN

2 3 1 H G S

30 October 1967

Dearest Fido,

I am completely convinced one should never leave home. By that I mean an office. I have been back today after my trip to ashington, and altho I have swotted at my desk it seems in worse shape than ever. Such an accumulation of letters and bills I have never seen. And altho I had left for Ireland with the understanding that all but the dinner speaker was in order for the meeting of the American Studies Association (of. N.E.) meeting on the llth, I found they (the hosts) had not even yet asked my suggestion, and when they did last week he could not come. So I have been trying to hustle that, and get all in shape before driving up to Vermont on Thursday to give a lecture there that night. I suppose if I had a secretary it would help, but not much at this juncture. And I am momentarily so busy I wouldn't have time to search one out. However after the llth perhaps things will quiet down.

I was most grateful to have yours of the 25th this morning, on the jump as you left for Ireland. I have been shockingly remiss in writing you. Indeed so much has accumulated, and we really had so little chance to talk in London-- how glad I was that Rota had a cold that first day and we had at least a chance for an hour together. But you have been even busier than I, with your flock, and I daresay we can pick up by correspondence much more easily than viva voce. And I continue to be grateful that we had the chance for the Nova Scotian trip.

I took the 8 a.m. shuttle plane from Washington to LaGuardia on Saturday, and returned to find Susan suffering agonizingly from a cold which had been growing on her ever since her return. So she devoted the game for herself, and instead I took Justus, being glad for the chance since he counts on one game a year and I was not sure how this could be worked in, with this coming Saturday and the following one both occupied, and only the Harvard game after that. It was a sunny brisk afternoon and to everyone's surprise, Cornell being the gamblers' favorite, Yale won 41-7 outplaying them at every moment in every way. I am sorry you could not have seen it. Justus' attention span has increased, and his mother reported that he told her about the game itself afterwards, rather than what he had eaten as he used to do.

Yesterday Susan was a little better, and since we had the Addiss dog to care for, and the weather in the morning good, we went to the shore so that the last of the laundry could be put away. At long last the painters have actually been there, redone the front of our house where the winter storms had laid the wood bare, and by two coats redone the house next door where the girls stay. He had promised to do this last year and it was in sad neglect. We find we were lucky, the waterboiler (by gas) having rotted and needing replacement, that the wood on the ceiling was scorched and the carpenters wondered that we had not had a fire. Apparently one must check everything constantly. But one would have thought we might have been warned other years when they connected the gas.

I whimper, but suppose the piles on my desks here and at home must actually be dominating, since the wastebaskets are filled. All of the films are back, and we will start tonight to see what if anything came out. We hope for sixty or so reasonably good ones to show you when you come over or if you are still in Kenwin in the spring. I spoke to a lawyer in Washington about your case and will report on all this later.

My love to Perdita if she is still there.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

31 October 1967

Dearest Fido,

I risk this one to the Sesame, but will write tomorrow as to Kenwin. Your letter of the 26th came with unusual speed, but I think the Irish mails now improve, as for the tourist image perhaps. What a dreadful crossing you had; I think Neptune was making up for the storms you missed having on the Quest. But the price of woolens ashore will drive you back to sea, storm or no storm. £100 for a plain blue woolen dress sounds more extravagant than elegant. In any event you got to Ballinamona safely, and I am glad that the sun shone to greet you. And that the swans glide for you on the lake. I have never seen so many swans as in Ireland. We were both impressed. Last night we projected two of the nine boxes of slides and found a few good ones despite the rainy weather. I hope for enough for a slide showing when next you are here. Or if you are to be at Kenwin when we are over in the spring, we can bring them for a showing then. I wonder if you will be?

Amx still working at letters, and am beginning to show progress. Although tomorrow is the 1st of the month and even more bills will be in. I have just paid the bill to the lawyers for collecting what could be recovered from Horace's medical bills. The fee was 10%, and worth it

Have not quite stopped booking. I did get the three American firsts of Henty for your collection. The American later editions precede the British ones. This time, THE LION OF ST MARK; WITH COCHRANE THE DAUNTLESS; AND WON BY THE SWORD. I was particularly pleased to find that the Pete Martin collection at Indiana had a Scribner no date edition indicated as the American first, whereas ours correctly says 1889 for THE LION. I have written gleefully to correct them, having been able to do it once before.

Have also bought a group of H.D. material from a dealer in California; being recommended to him by Duncan and another poet I know there. They are all from 1905-08, and usefully early, to a Mrs Sydney Skidmore, "society matron and bastion of the Christian Science Church in Philadelphia. Actually only 4 are from Hilda, and the rest from the Beaver--long ones. "Her mother's letters mention Hilda's illness--'I am naturally nervous of her eccentricities', he entering Bryn Mawr, and constantly focus on Hilda's activities." So the description. One is from an unknown Margaret, probably Snively. I shall have to write to see what she knows about Mrs Skidmore. I trust you approve of the purchase.

I think I told you that the letters from Hildegarde Wylde have arrived, and are awfully good. Full letters with both sides of the correspondence. Much about spiritualism, voices, Arthur Bhaduri and matters of that sort, with an indication of what she is reading along those lines. These are really the only ones where she goes into this area. She is willing to be paid, and I will have them appraised at a fair price and send her the money. They may be expensive, but being a cousin of Hilda's one might use Hilda's royalty money. I can see how it works out.

Not a peep out of Kay Boyle, though I hardly expected to since she will inevitably regard my comments as unfriendly. (Tant pis!) But I thought you might be interested in the enclosed, which you can toss in the basket since it is only a xerox. I was asked by the N.Y.Times to review Kay's edition of Carnevali's memoirs, hitherto unpublished. I said yes, thinking this might be a tactical advantage if I could show myself as friendly in other respects than the <u>Geniuses</u>. As indeed I truthfully am.

Tonight is Halloween. I must go home early to pass around the plate filled with candy. I moved to the terrace furniture in this morning.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

5 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

We were back last night, making a good start a little after 9 and driving through the rain and heavy mist until Hanover where we stopped for lunch and a respite at the Hanover Inn where we all stayed at the time of our visit to Stefansson. The drive up through Vermont, and even what we could see through the mist on our way back was very beautiful, and is (I think) something we must together (you and I) on one of our trips. The Inn at Hanover is being violently remodeled, and one ate so to speak amidst scaffolding, but I daresay it will be nice when done. They have (as is now stylish at universities) a new arts center and we walked through that as we waited for the dining room to open at noon.

The trip down was again through rain, and then finally overcast skies umbrella-ed us, but the gloom was lightened by the chance to listen to the Yale-Dartmouth game over the radio, at least the last three-quarters of it. Yale again surprised everyone (as it did last week), and beat Dartmouth unecifully, 56-15, the largest score against anyone in the last 30 years. They talk now of Yale as a great team, and they are at the moment at the head of the Ivy League (Harvard, Princeton, and the like.)

Once home we had to go to a cocktail party given by the parents of a young man who had entertained us when we were in Fukuoka, in Japan. He was with the Cultural Service there, and is now with the State Department in Washington. It was pleasant to see him again, and to talk, but we were tired and left early, caught up on the papers after supper and retired early. Susan has had a severe cold ever since her return -- I think she was tired enough not to be able to shake it -- and coughed most of the way up and while there. Today, I am glad to say it is better.

I was glad to find I had a note saying the man I asked to speak after dinner at the New England American Association dinner on next Saturday, in New London, will after all. He is Tom Wolfe, the young high stylist as essayist, who was once a graduate student under me. I shall have to slip a little extra into the till to pay for him, but it is after all my job (despite an empty treasury) to provide the speakers. I am glad my presidency of this regional group ends with Saturday's meeting. Yet for my sins, I am now to be president of the [American national] American Studies Association. Good sense would have told me to say no. My vanity urged yes, since it is the chief honor within the field, and one takes it now or never. But the national organization has a central staff, and one doubts that I need to do more than make a few appearances.

There was a letter from you in the early morning mail on Thursday, before I left for Winooski, but none as of Friday or Saturday so you must have been on your way back to London and then Kenwin.

I realise I said very little about what happened while we were at our destination. There was a small dinner party for us before my talk, and a small party afterwards. Saturday morning I spoke to the students majoring in American Studies, and some of the staff, and in the afternoon had a special tour of Shelburne Village which was normally closed at this time of the year. Then at night we had dinner with the Littleton Longs (he teaches at the University of Vermont, and she used to work for me at Yale after she got her own PhD.) It was very pleasant to see them both.

Hope your trip back was an easy one. I shall begin to get back into gear

tomorrow. At least I hope so.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

7 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

Such bounty as I found in yesterday afternoon's post: four letters
and an envelope filled with others to you. Strange however that they should have
piled up like this; the weekend obviously had something to do with it. Now, having
begun the morning by voting in the local Hamden election (my conscience got the
better of my intended lassitude), I can keep on with a tidy day by writing to you
first of all.

There were yours, of the 31st from the Hibernian, two on the 2nd, and
that of the 3rd. I felt sure you would like Dublin, though I gather that Petrie did
not, after all, take you to the end of the street the hotel faced on, to see the
Irish antiquities in the National Museum. Some time you really must; they are com-
pletely your cup of tea. But the streets are fun to wander, and I somehow think
Petrie prefers streets to museums and history. At any rate your shopping must have
been a complete success and I hope Pup liked her dress. You are right: always get
the plain ones if expensive; they keep their style, the gaity shifts. The Hibernian
is by far the best hotel -- Petrie is right--and I suspect you'd enjoy having several
days in Dublin with her. I do know she'd enjoy it, for she loves the city and her
friends there. I'm delighted that you are making it possible for Petrie to write
her memoirs; I only hope she won't try to intellectualize them or spend too much
time in generalizations. It is the minute particular which adds up, what girls had
for tea at school rather than the examinations. And especially she ought to write
about her Anglo-Irish girlhood in Ireland. But whatever she does will be interesting,
and I shall be eager to see it when done.

Your red ribbon was great splash. You were lucky to have Robin put the
machine back in shape for you. As for Ireland and Ballinamona I now see what so
attracts you to it; one feels rather like having gone similarly to the Scillies with
Doris in order to fill out your life. So that, even in terms of you, I can be that
much more together with you in future letters, despite the fact that we could actually
see so little of each other in London. What fun it will be the next time when you can
take me to the strippers by Seckers.

One of the successes of this trip for you was certainly the chance to see
Ireland and Kenneth and check up on both; another was obviously your visit with Pup. I
somehow suspect it may really work out fully as well for both of you in London as at
Kenwin. I was particularly glad that you were willing to break down your convictions
and go to the theater with her. But London gives you both the chance to be on your
own, fill in the time with your particular chores or pleasures, and then get together
at meals and at tea when indicated. And there is no doubt that she is both fond of
you and grateful for all you have done. She is middle-aged now and has her own confi-
dence. And I must say that for this day and age she and John have brought up a remark-
ably compact family, with Elizabeth too seeming to find her way. It is good on your
part to help them with valentine's college expenses. One of the anomalies of life is
that the most expensive part of it comes when one has the least money to support the
costs of educating the children. And yet what better legacy can anyone have than the
chance for a good education? The combination of the new house and all of the children
at school must mount up fearfully for them: I am glad you can help out.

Sorry about the jacket for the English *January*. I do think on the whole that

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

7 November 1967

(2nd letter)

Dearest Fido,

This clearing up one's desk is a confusing task -- but how well you must be knowing the same situation now after your return last night -- I forgot to say what a good idea I thought it was of you to postpone your return to coincide with Pup's--I suspect this may have been your best visit with her and an important one for both of you.

So I shall keep taking this in and out of the typewriter as I find things that ought to be commented on to you. Otherwise little piles accumulate.

For reasons unknown to me, you have had a further return dividend from the Yale Co-op, this time of $1.77. As I did with the larger dividend check I had it deposited to your credit. Incidentally your balance now shows a credit of $106.72, not counting this last. So you can spend freely. I completely forgot to tell you that before I left I had the Browning sent on to you. Though having done so I read a review that did not greatly praise its originality. Forgive me, but if I had waited until my return you would not have gotten it until after Christmas. This I did charge to your account.

Two other clippings remind me of books. Did you try your Maureen Duffy's *The Paradox Players*? I meant to ask you, seeing it was just out. And would you like *Vinland Voyage*, by J.R.L. Anderson, the account of the attempt to sail like Vikings across the northern Atlantic. Englishmen.

And what is your shoe size?

The letters from Hilda and the Beaver to Mrs Sydney Skidmore have come. As of 1905-08 and much to do with a visit Hilda made to Port Jefferson, of three weeks, going to college, a sorority, etc. I think the husband of Mrs S must have been a professor at Bryn Mawr or Swarthmore or the like. I have not yet checked. One longish letter was as I thought from Margaret Snively who was on the same visit. It is filled with names of girls whom she and Hilda knew. I wonder if you would ask her if I might write to her to fill out the details? I think I should need an introduction, so to speak, and obviously the best one would come from you if you were willing to. She must have an immense amount of data tucked away in her mind,--whether letters too one doesn't know. I have been asked if I would like to go to a conference in Australia next August. Perhaps if I went it would be worthwhile for me to fly across to New Zealand to see her if she were willing. Unless you wanted to fly her here, as you once spoke of doing. I don't know whether she'd want to take the trip or not. Or best of all, you fly out to see her if your trip to Africa doesn't pan out. The climate of New Zealand is said to be lovely. The letters were a little on the expensive side, for what they said, but we have nothing else from so early. You will be interested in them when you next come across. Perhaps you will want to flip over in February when the boys are here. You might even give Pup a little holiday by taking her with you to California, to see Hildegarde Wylde and her husband who are after all Pup's relatives.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

8 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

This is or will be a curtailed letter, from my not having been able to get to my typewriter. The telephone people have again been at work, but at last have finished all except putting in the strips identifying the various switches. It should be superb, with as many different beds to keep straight as if I lived in a Swiss cuckoo clock factory, or at least Kenneth's Swiss folly.

The final result should be convenient, for I can now receive either inside or outside calls at the room in the Library or in either of the two rooms in HGS. Similarly my private outside phone will ring in all three rooms. But best of all, if ever I should be able to find a secretary, I have an intercom system so that I can speak with the secretary, or she with me, between HGS and the Library, and between the two rooms in HGS.

My difficulty now is that I must go to a lecture by Dame Helen Gardiner on *Othello*, not that I want to, or that I find *Othello* a fascinating play, but because we are dining with her on Friday night and I must murmur politely about how well she talked.

The elections yesterday were surprising in Hamden, where the Republican ticket lost (I voted Republican chiefly for the sake of a two-party system, though I was raised to be a Tory), and I New Haven my nephew, altho the highest Republican was 4,000 votes below the lowest Democrat elected to an all-Democratic ticket, this nearest being a convicted criminal whom the Democrats rather brazenly put up. But in the country as a whole I should gather that Johnson met with some rebuffs.

Another permissions fee check came for Hilda, which I solemnly deposited this morning in order to earn interest on it from the 1st of the month (if one deposits before the 10th, otherwise it waits for next month). Her total is now 1,691$

Three letters came in the afternoon mail, including your last from the airport. What a marvelous trip you had with your ballad singer. You have a magic touch.

I wonder what will develop at Kenwin.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Nile Valley and its Products (1904). And then a *With Clive in India* of which we oddly had no first. Also a first of Marryat's *The Pirate*. I picked up another Marryat or two in London, but of course did not have the chance to tell you of them or of our trip to Birmingham. Of these, later.

I phoned Marya this morning so as to be able to report on him to you, and know myself. He had been getting better but then a fortnight ago had a bladder infection for which they gave him heavy doses of anti-biotics. If the doctors had consulted his record from Dr Gara they would have discovered he can't take anti-biotics (so Marya says), and as a result he was so weakened and upset that they wanted an emergency operation. She is against all these-- so should I be-- and miraculously the next day he was better, though is now much weakened and set back. The new hospital seems to be operation-happy, and had wanted to do one on his spine again--thank God they didn't. Marya said life had been awful for her, but for the first time sounded cheerful and well and thought she was over the hump. She has been to Prutting who discovers that she has diabetes. She is taking regular dosages for this, is beginning to lose weight, and I expect that her illness was basic to her distress psychologically. It was much the same when I discovered her thyroid condition and the carcinoma of her breast. Prutting is really a marvel.

Don't forget Marianne's 80th birthday on the 15th.

I am worried today because in Gardner they have this morning operated on my brother to remove a part of one lung for cancer. But no good in thinking too much about it since no one will know what really happened until the biopsy is made. His wife, alas, who drinks too much and goes off her rocker so often, now has changed her mind and will not agree to a divorce. She has been advised against it, since only as a wife can she have medical insurance. This seems odd, but is I guess true. Lizzie can't have it either.

10 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

My state of chaos must rival yours. A professor from the University of Salzburg has arrived, unannounced but highly sponsored to see me -- yesterday afternoon and this morning; I have tried to keep him busy with appointments. A young doctoral candidate who had asked if he could come for the fortnight preceding Thanksgiving (to which I had said yes) to work on Hawthorne, appeared this morning instead ("I really ought to have called you"). The movers appeared, also unheralded (Mrs. Cohen of Cohen & Powell: "Of course I will let you know when they can do it") so that I had to rush to HGS to supervise the packing of books for Sterling Library office; and now I wait for them to bring the boxes over and see what room is left afterwards, for more. I simply must get the books off the floor in HGS. Worst of all I still have the final things to get in shape for tomorrow's meeting in New London of the NEASA, and found only last night that next year's president isn't after all to be at the meeting. But one will survive one supposes.

Alfred's operation was postponed until today, and one waits and wonders. I will, I presume, feel I must go up some time during the next week to see him. A letter from my sister last night made it seem less alarming, and the trouble had been discovered in the course of a routine physical rather than resulting from a crisis. But a lung is a lung.

Your two letters of the 7th were in the early post, and I settle back a little now that you are again at Kenwin. I was half-saddened by Herbie's death, but half-relieved too; for I could not help thinking of a future when she would be bed-ridden with no one to watch over her. In some ways her life was one of the saddest I have known, but I sometimes think all lives are sad.

I was glad for the warning about food on planes. I knew nothing about it, and must say it will complicate life considerably. I am really all against the leviathan jets of the future; give me a horse-and-buggy jet every time.

(At that moment, the Austrian professor, the movers, and a telephone call all came together. I could do little more than say goodbye to the professor, answer the phone from my sister, which told me the operation on my brother had been a success and that it had not proved to be cancer. Which was very good news indeed. As for the movers I went with them to HGS and in all they brought over nine brimming cases of books, so that although not all things can come off the floor in HGS a good many books certainly can. This will mean that next week I can have a man in and discuss the possibility of rugs on the floor. That done I can buy some lights, and then when I find a secretary I can think about a typewriter and dictaphone.

Elsie does not sound remarkably improved by her trip but I daresay pleasant things about it will creep out from time to time. I doubt that she will ever be happy on a trip unless you are there too as her courier. She is younger in many ways than her age would indicate, and in other ways much older than her years. In any event I think you ought to get her to Blum, and I am convinced that

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

professional etiquette does not stand in the way of a preliminary letter from
you to Blum, in which you indicate the various modes of conduct, jealousies,
headaches, whiskey etc. As in intelligence this gives him a ground to work on,
and if it comes before her talks with him requires no confidences on his part to
you.

Helen's letter did sound distrait; she has been well but in the sense
of a veneer. She makes a charming hostess but no doubt was always awed (as a
young mistress) with Kurt's absolute aplomb.

I remember Harold Doolittle's speaking about maple syrup and the farm.
He himself actually owned the farm, but it was run by a son who liked farming
and couldn't make a go at anything else. Harold let the son have the farmhouse
after the wife died and began to live in a trailer nearby. I might add that he
liked the trailer.

Your letter of the 8th was in the noon mail. You must make Marie Anne
fill up to compensate for her poisoning. And you must fatten up too, if Elsie's
fasting is forced on you. Was there nothing on the trip which was fun? As things
stand now I see little chance that she would enjoy any tour around the States
which we might arrange through a company. Better, I think, for her to learn to knit
and stay home.

I had clipped out the announcement of the Tolkien. The book as I remember
is a collection of songs with printed music to them (I had written you about it
earlier), and the record: "On one side Professor Tolkien himself reads from the
delightful poems of Tom Bombadil. On the reverse side William Elvin sings the
songs from The Road Goes Ever On with Donald Swann at the piano. Who could resist?"
This is only to prove I clipped the announcement out as a surprise present of the
record to you for Christmas. It is already out here. I will simply forget it,
because of Mr Fall unless you want to have it without waiting, in which case I can
easily airmail an early Xmas to you. No, Tolkien used to read Sir Gawain beautifully,
which is what C.S.Lewis had him in to teach us to do. It was in ordinary speak
and lectures that he talked, as Lewis put it, as though he had been born with a
hot baked potato in his mouth and been immediately stepped on there by his mother.
The book I had not intended to get you since lately you have been singing so much
less at your work. But as the ad says it has a "Glossary of Elvish terms. Guitar
chords indicated, of course." How you will surprise all mini-cabdrivers in London
when in mid-ride you take out your guitar and burst into song!

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

13 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

As a correspondent I am both idiotic and irregular. I did not write on saturday nor again yesterday. I shall not write tomorrow. But you must forgive me. Saturday was devoted to the New England American Studies Association at New London. I scrambled around to get my papers in order, and put down the order of business, and think what I could say in the way of casual introductions. And when these were done it was time to pick up my three Japanese passengers and set out. Fortunately the weather was good, the attendance was respectably large, the afternoon paper on a comparison of British and American ImpCommercialisms was excellent as was the speaker's handling of the question period afterwards. People were politely applauding (no, really more warmly than that) when the national executive secretary announced that I had been elected president of the national organization, and I bowed shyly. It will be a nuisance but my pride wouldn't let me say no. It will make my getting of a secretary almost imperative. Tom Wolfe, my Tangerine Kandy Colored Kid arrived in time for his after-dinner speach, flying up from Richmond as a gesture to get me through the day; and people liked what he said, although the success is more of manner than matter, but this was outside the point. He actually came back and spent the Saturday night with us, leaving early Sunday morning to drive his Herz car to Kennedy and then fly back.

I spent the day reading Kay Boyle's assemblage of Carnevali's autobiography, suddenly realising that I must also read McAlmon's *A Hurried Man*, since in "assembling" this new book, Kay had taken over much of the old, weaving a new fabric together out of a good deal of old thread. But some new too, and she has managed to make something that coheres. A Dorothy Dudley did the other; Kay is pushing her out a little. She likes to have her men to herself. Carnevali is a little too romantically lush for me, but I shall be good to the book. The review is due Thursday, and since I have been reading it today also I shall cancel my dinner in New York on Wednesday with the Councellors of the Academy of American Poets and try to write something instead.

I fall farther and farther behind, which is one reason I must put my office enough into order so that I can have a secretary to dictate to. So this afternoon I saw a man about fitting rugs to the floor, and when that is done I shall see about what can be done for lighting, and then machines. It is endless.

Tomorrow, alas in a way, I must drive to Gardner to see my brother. Eleanor says he wants me to come, she says I owe it to him (I dare say I do, though I don't go as in payment of a debt), and that will eat up the day. I gather the operation was a success, was not cancerous, he is forced to be up, but finds the repercussions more debilitating than he anticipated. Fortunately Susan will go along, for company and to spell me in driving. Her colder is currently much better.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Your letters of the 9th and 10th were in today's mail. One is worried about Elsie's pain but it is come relief to know that she too is worried. Perhaps it is better to clear up things with her surgeon before getting her to Blum, though I think a word from you would cause him to find an opening before the 1st of January. I don't quite see how you can manage to cope through the Christmas season.

Congratulations on finding your key. I had lost two pairs of glasses-- one distance, one reading -- but did manage to find the distance ones today upon inquiring at the HGS mail desk, where it turned out I had put them down.

I shall be interested to learn what arrangements you make with Coigny. And what he thinks about the prospects for a possible American soft landing of your rocket.

This is awful about the Urzidels. I had an invitation to an event while we were in England, and must write him. I suppose the landlord wants the excuse to get rid of them so that rents can be upped. This will be financially as well as emotionally difficult for them. The Richards& have been unusually lucky to keep their place so long.

I dashed over to the library to write this, after fetching my car on which some minor repairs had to be made before the trip tomorrow. Now I must get home and then perhaps come back for an hour or so tonight to see if I can get going.

I really won't be able to write tomorrow, but will be thinking of you and our rides together in that direction when we saw my mother.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

15 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

I am going to play hookey, having just finished an 800 word
book review for the New York Times, only begun this morning, and run to the
gymn for a massage and sun-lamp. The review is of the 'arnevali autobiography
which 'ay Boyle "compiled." This is rather swifter composition than I usually
manage, but the review is due tomorrow. I generally like to do a couple of
reviews for the Times a year. That's enough.

Yesterday's trip to Gardner went off well, and I was glad to have
gone. My brother is much better though I think considerably shaken by not
having realised that the operation was to have been a major one. It all came
rather suddenly, and it is just as well he didn't have a chance to bone up on
it. Having thought himself indistructible he is rather shaken by the turn of
events; but actually having coughed for the last thirty years he will be much
better than ever before. He will be going home at the end of the week, but
being alone there I am not sure how he will manage.

My sister and her family (that is, her husband) seemed well. She is
much less tense than she used to be, and is very much enjoying being mother to her
much older brother. I rather prefer, myself, isolated dog houses when ill.

Forgive the brevity, which is only of news not of love.

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

16 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

I really feel as though I might be settling in. Monday I had the rug man in to make estimates and show samples for the rooms in HGS. It will be rather more expensive than I thought, but important it seems to me to cut the noise down. I chose a light gold-brown, not triumphantly by any means, but it will do. It is made by one of these synthetic processes, and so can be washed and clean readily, and should be properly tough.

That was a start. This morning I made another by phoning Manpower Inc., from whom one gets secretaries by the hour, and arranged for a girl to come in next week so that at least I could clear up my desk. There are unanswered letters accumulated since London, and they haunt me. Invitations to go all over to lecture, which I must refuse. Invitations to judge national fellowship awards, which I also must refuse. But I haven't had time to refuse, alas. I may, if it works out, have some one in this way a day or two each week until I find the right permanent one.

As usual I was not overly pleased by the review I wrote of the Carnevali autobiography--and I had to hold back on a number of scholarly questions as to just what the source was for this or that, or why Kay had altered the argument from its earlier appearance in *A Hurried Man* (privately I made a collation between the material there and in the autobiography); Kay seems to indicate that parts came from letters to her, but Bobbie McA speaks of things sent to him. Well, it doesn't matter; the autobiography is highly romantic in the manner of a Jean Christophe with a megaphone, and this approach of course is Kay's cup of tea. I had a second letter from her identifying Thelma Wood (I already had from McAlmon's book -- she was ansculptress and etcher and was married to Djuna Barnes who did a long portrait of her in *Nightwood*. I will write your London friend in case she still wants to know. Oddly I had thought to write Miss Barnes, but it was lucky I didn't, for she would have thought it a trap and been angered. Boyle apparently thinks the Wood is still living. She said she would let me know what she decides about the omissions; I think she will in the end. I do not push, and having had to reread McAlmon's book in part because of Carnevali (I hate unindexed books), and sure that the real disservice is to Victoria McAlmon.

Your letter of the 13th was in this morning's mail. What an extra-
ordinary adventure the poor Boys had with their collie. The terrain he sought
was pure collie-land, as in Scotland, but what would worry me is that in despera-
tion he might bring down a sheep. Then he really would have to be done away with.
The peasants would be frightened and angry, and the taste of blood would linger
on the dog's own tongue. Personally, I should not have chosen a collie for Italy,
with the summer heat in mind. # Perdita's letter confirmed all we had thought
about her new feeling of relationship. One of the hardest things for a child to
feel (no matter what age she or he reaches) is that of real equality with a
parent. And by equality I mean an actual social ease. But the Sesame puts the
two of you in a different relationship than even Kenwin can. # The Rosslers
have really become Montrealers, and I think they like the greater cosmopolitanism
on Montreal as against the British provincialism of the other large Canadian

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

Again no letter yesterday, though not for reasons of sloth on my part. Instead I entertained the now chief editor of the official Hawthorne edition (not my cup of tea to collate editions of _The Scarlet Letter_ past Hawthorne's deathday and up until 1900), who is now re-doing the American Notebooks and wanted to check details against my collection of texts of the letters. There had been some hard feeling on their part when I would not give them the letters or the Italian journals, and so I was pleased to be able to smooth things over. But he was so full of queries that I could not sit down and type to you. Then, suddenly at a quarter to four he said hi's train left at 4:02 so I had to take him to the station and be at a 4:30 appointment at the gymn. You were the sufferer.

Last night was rather fun. Young Susan was entertaining, so we took Justus and the dog to the second session of obedience classes. It was good for both of them, I should think, and even Justus was exhausted after an hour and a half of walking in a circle, stopping, walking over the dog, causing him to reverse, etc etc. Oscar wants frightfully to do the right thing, but thinks it an awful waste of time to ring quietly around a rosy when there are so many dogs one could frolic with. Still, he did not bark once, and led a very different sort of relationship with his young master than when they roughhouse. Justus was by far the youngest of the humans but did very well and one could honestly commend him.

Today has been rainy, and I understand it rains in Princeton where Yale is playing an important football game. The team here is better than for many years, and we all root for them to win. I even brought a small radio with me to the office, and at the end of the first half Yale led 22-7. But the end of the game may be a different matter. Of course I hope not.

I thought you might be interested in the enclosed notice of what Marianne actually did. But do four candles equal eight decades? The calculation must be the result of progressive education.

Your letter of the 15th came yesterday; there was none (as often on Saturday) this morning. I hope your new G.P. works out well. It is important, I insist, to have one at hand. But they do get scarcer. The average doctor here now hates to go out at night even in emergency. We are lucky to have an excellent man who will.

Will try to sketch out the Australian trip in my later letters. One does not know if it actually will work out; I was asked if I would be willing to go. The next question is whether the Australians can persuade the State Department here to finance my trip. Foreign aid has been much cut down by this Congress so one doesn't know. But my election as president of the national American Studies Association may make them stretch a point. We will see.

(At that point my radio tells me Yale scored another touchdown and now leads 29-7).

NORMAN

HOLMES

PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY

NEW HAVEN, CONN.

With my cleanup process have been unearthing a number of things allied to your Dusty Diamonds. The last Brimmell catalogue had nothing to interest me, but I did take a gouache drawing illustrating Marryat's *The Children of the New Forest* since this sort of thing helps to dress up any exhibition.

I begin to know as much as the dealers in some instances, and have turned down several "first editions" which I pointed out were not actually firsts. But I did manage to pick up two Henty Americans which look like first, though no date in on the title page of either, and one would conflict with Indiana's claim. But I think your collection has the earlier. One is *With Clive in India*; the other *Orange and Green*. # When I got back Donald Gallup wept because he had been too late to buy a three-page letter from Henty about his writing habits. But to my pleasure, a little later, the purhaser of the letter, the head of the Guggenheim Foundation and a former president of the Grolier Club sent me, quite on his own, a xerox of the letter. Already I am beginning a package of things for you to see when you next come, hopefully with the boys at the end of February.

Seven Gables Bookshop asks me if I would like to buy the following by you, part of the Shakespeare and Company stock, "although we know you most surely have copies."

Civilians 40.00
Arrow Music 30.00
Two Selves 27.50

Thursday I asked the local appraiser to come in put a fair price for Mrs Wyld's H.D. letters, explaining the importance of the references to occult literature. He agreed, and said he thought $350. would be a generous fee to give her. I will write to her tomorrow and hope she may be pleased. I have trying to get rid of a few things of my own of no interest to me, which he has bought, and it seemed to me there was no reason why I should not let him have a set of the *Kora and Ka*, *Star*, and *Nights* series and put the price towards what goes to Mrs Wyld, taking the rest from Hilda's royalty accounts. This would certainly have pleased her. I hope you approve. So you must not worry about sending anything for them. For the three he offers me $200, and most of the rest is already made up from proof sheets for an O'Neill play, a Wm Carlos Wms book etc. We still have a good many of the privately printed books, and I need only give him a couple more to more than cover the total. This sort of exchange with Hilda's collection as benefactor seems to me the best of all possible solutions. And you must be careful with your own resources, especially with the likely fall of the pound. Your old ames may need something from outside of Coutts.

When I was with you and Rota we spoke of filling out the collection of the printed books by Vernon Watkins, as one of your correspondents. And also so there can be one complete collection in the States. We have here, at Goodrich Street, either your copies or mine, the following four"

1941 Ballad of the Mari Lwyd

1945 The Lamp and the Veil

1954 The Death Bell

1955 trans. Heine, The North Sea.

We do not have:

1948 The Lady with the Unicorn

1957 ed., with intro, Thomas D. Letters to Vernon Watkins.

1959 CV

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

1959 Cypress and Acacia

1962 Affinities

1967 Selected Poems

contributed to 1941 Hendry and Treece, The White Horseman.

Will you check and see if you have any of these which didn't come over?
It's not to ask you for them but simply to know, so I won't buy any one twice.
When I see what we lack between the two repositories I'll ask Rota to look out
for the others.

(At that point Yale has just won the game, which gives them the Ivy
League championship with an undefeated season within the league so far. The
Harvard game comes next week, the Saturday after Thanksgiving.)

I was sorry to learn about Urzidil's forced change of residence. I
wrote to him this morning saying you had said so, expressing my regrets at not
having been able to get to the Baeck Memorial lecture he gave (sending me an
invitation), and mentioned casually that I wondered what he was doing eventually
with his papers. We shall see.

What a thing this has been about Arthur Waley's papers. You must ask
Sachie some time. You have of course seen as much as I have in the TLS, though
I seem to have missed a middle letter.

It is raining outside, on the edge of snow. But thundering too. And
pitch black as always so early now.

21 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

I sneak back after lunch in order to use the typewriter while the temp-sec is out to her lunch. She began yesterday, and as I think I told you I did not realise how much in the way of dictation pads etc I myself must supply. Fortunately Mrs Sherman came through, and with a new ribbon as well. Though when the temp-sec tried to put it in the machine all went askew, and it was noon before she discovered the defect in the role. But by afternoon @3.50 per hour, she was typing away and got a number done. I had the dentist first thing this morning but she had dictation enough to keep busy, and I gave still more at the end of the morning.

I left the office early yesterday for a meeting of the board of the International Student Center, and then we had Susan's sister and Hartford husband (the Footes) for supper and theatre. The San Francisco Mimes, but they were not mimes at all but closer to commedia del'arte, transforming a Goldoni drama into an ant-Vietnam document. I must say the performance was lively and engrossed the audience; but I was sorry that the head of the company felt he must make a little curtain speak at the end to announce that we must reform the U.S.A. and if we could not, then it must be destroyed. Certainly we had gotten the message from the performance itself, so why take away from their own confidence in what they had done. I might add that I accepted the performance but reject the message.

Various letters have come: 16th 17th(2), 18th, and 19th. The situation with Elsie becomes alarming. Or even more so. I do not quite think any rejection while on the trip is the complete reason. At any rate I should want to be sure that every sort of test was tried on her of a physical sort. One can't trust her to insist on them all, and as with the Gregories one has to stand over and give orders to the doctors. At any rate I grieve with you.

In urging you to carry on with Kenwin, Coigny of course is acting rationally and on the lines which persuaded me in the past to urge the same. But he does not, naturally, know the situation with Elsie; and this latter seems to me to be the best and most persuasive argument for moving elsewhere. If Elsie needs the extra money which would come from the sale of an improved house, it would be better to give her the interest on that money when invested. Or she might never get it at all.

I somehow had not realised the devaluation of the pound seemed so remote a possibility to you. Shocking as it is, I have more or less thought it inevitable and only a matter of stretched time. But it will be extremely difficult on all the British, as I have been indicating in my last few letters. The shift in prices will take some time and not be uniform. I would wait a bit before increasing allowances, especially because the psychological effect on the recipients will be better if they do not seem to have too much now and too little later,

November 20, 1967

David R. Pokross, Esquire
Peabody, Brown, Rowley & Storey
70 Federal Street
Boston, Massachusetts 02110

Dear David:

As I wrote in answer to your letter of September 25, I was shortly off to Ireland and London and have been away each of the three weeks since my return. I showed Bryher a xerox of my letter to you of the 29th and of Anna Freud's letter to you. Bryher felt, as I do, that although Miss Freud's clinic is doing important work, the amount available from the Sachs Fund is so small its impact would be lessened if the directions of its obligation are dispersed. What she and I, and I think you, yourself, are anxious to do is to memorialize Dr. Sachs. This I think can be done most effectively by concentrating on the Boston area to which he dedicated the last years of his life. I will, however, discuss the matter with Miss Freud when she comes to Yale during the second term. I will be in Germany for a fortnight immediately on her arrival but will be in touch with her afterwards.

It rained constantly during our holiday but we enjoyed Ireland and were too busy during our week in London to notice the weather. We saw Bryher in London and she seemed as full of energy as ever. The devaluation of the British currency may reduce her poundage.

Have you heard any news about the Sachs papers?

NHP:1d1

November 21, 1967

Miss Jane Liddendale:
75 Campden Street
London, W.8, England

Dear Miss Liddendale:

Mrs. Bryher wrote me in September asking if I could identify Thelma Wood for you. I was sorry not to be able to at that time for although her name was familiar to me the rush of leaving for Ireland interfered with my scholarship.

I still cannot tell you a great deal about her but she was an American sculptress who was a close friend of Djuna Barnes and was a character described by Miss Barnes in *Nightwood*. She was everywhere with Miss Barnes and was well-known on the Paris scene. She may very well still be alive but I am not sure. Naturally, you may not wish to say more than that she was an American sculptress.

NHP:1dl

2731 HGS
Yale University
New Haven, Connecticut
U.S.A.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN-CONN

22 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

What a horrible mistake. The library closed at 5 because of the Thanksgiving holiday, and I had been denied access to my typewriter all day while my secretary work away. It was her last day. Next week when I have another part-time one she will be different. The present one was good but needed a fulltime position, and got one this noon. She starts at 115 dollars a week, such being the state of the economy.

The mistake is that I brought no stamps with me, and tomorrow being a holiday I shall have to wait to pick one up tomorrow tonight at home and mail it tomorrow morning. There was no mistake in deciding to have a temporary typist. When this one left we had finished 45 letters, by which I mean long ones with carbons to sent hither and yon. As I left, my desk in the library still looked far from immaculate. But when I come in on Friday it will not take long to put it in better shape. I have asked for no one on Friday or on Monday (since I have to be away Monday afternoon). This will give me a chance to plan my next group of letters and to write some recommendations that I can only compose on a typewriter. I may in fact try out the idea of depending on Manpower for a bit, since I need only guarantee four hours work on any day I have a girl. This way I can accumulate work for a bit and then get it done. And when I am away I don't have to pay anyone, or pay state taxes and the like. We shall see.

I am typing this on your Lettera, which I have at HGS.

When I opened it a part-done letter to Elsie was still on the roller. It was on the special airletter paper so I shall not waste it. I'll use it for a note to you one day when there is little to say.

No letter from you today, and I left the recent ones in the
Library with the stamps. I broke off yesterday in the midst of a paragraph
on the pound. I meant only to say that you will not, as you hinted, needed
to give twice the usual amount to your pensioners in 1967, and that it might
be well to watch what happens before committing yourself to specific addit-
ional amounts. I hope you will keep me advised as to the revised lists so
that I can have it hand for use in necessity.

A letter a few days ago from the New York lawyers enclosed two
more smallish checks from Horace's insurance company, which I sent on to
him today for re-endorsement to me. The lawyers will put in an additional
claim in January for about 1000 dollars for nursing costs I paid this year.
They also sent me a recap of the total outgo and insurance returns for this
post-Gaylord illness, and I am glad to say I will have recovered almost
½ of what I have paid. I certainly couldn't have done this without the
lawyers' help, and am glad I finally turned to them. I am, however, very
much worried by your report of Patrick's letter. If Marya can't have him
in the home how is he to be taken care of? I find it very sad indeed. But
I simply can't take him on at the present scale of his expenses, and I
don't think you should either, now that you will have to give out more to
so many. I am grateful that I could help him, and grateful to you for
having helped him over so many years. But too many others depend on me too,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

and except for brief emergencies I fear I shall to withdraw back to
the 2000 dollars I give him annually. This latter of course is not
figured in the lawyer's statement. There is an air of Greek tragedy
about both Horace and Marya and I am serious when I say I weep when
I think of them. For of course in doing so I weep for what might have
been my own lot in life.

To shift focus for a moment I wonder if the situation
with the pound might not make us reconsider the subsidies which Adam
would require as subsidy for an issue devoted to H.D., or the printing
of Romaine's novel. One of the current series of letters was to Urinda,
and I have a carbon to send you along with some others on Friday when
I can get to the postoffice to weigh things.

Surely this is a season for all worries, with Elsie's
situation so tense. Do, I beg of you, try to get away to Zurich every
fortnight for overnight at least. You must breathe a different air
and hear other tunes. On one hand it is a nuisance; on the other it
is a matter of self-preservation.

I feel quite elated at having tried out this machine for you,
for I may want to wait a bit before investing in another large one for
HGS and wait until I have the secretary to sit at it. What fun it will
be when I am finally settled in. But will I ever be?

Halfway thru this letter, God rewarded me for my labors by
reminding me that I had carried two stamps with me to Vermont, for letters
to you I never wrote enough of. So I can post this to you tonight after
all. I am glad of that since it will bring you my love all the sooner.

I also dedicated my new desk chair with this letter.

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

24 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

Have been spending post-Thanksgiving gathering together material
to be dictated on next Tuesday when my part-time sec returns (rather, a part-
time girl, since the last one has gone on to a permanent job). Alas, there
is far too much still to do but I am simply not writing letters by my own
fingers, and perhaps may catch up so that I can give a more personal touch
through my errors.

Yesterday was a pleasant Thanksgiving despite the fact that it poured down rain from morning until night. The two grandchildren went in the late morning to New York with their father to his mother's. So we had just Susan's two daughters for the feast at noon. They prefer this to going to the Lawn Club, although I remember warmly a good meal you and I had there one Thanksgiving when Susan was in France. Lizzie cooked the turkey and some vegetables; young Susan did more vegetables, and Susan did the pie. My contribution was, as usual, to wash the dishes afterwards. Oscar came, and showed the benefits of obedience school by lying quietly in the hall at the entrance to the dining room. He jumped on everyone when he came in first, but when I gave the signal he sat by my heel. After lunch we showed the pictures of Ireland. Now that we have selected the best ones we have a reasonably good selection -- not absolute stunners but some attractive ones nevertheless. I think you will be interested in them; that is, I hope so.

Last night we listened on t.v. to an excellent hour's broadcast
on Edith. It was rather gaudily titled in terms of the true Edith behind the
facade, and the preliminary matter was so awful I thought I would have to
turn it off. But the broadcast itself was excellent in almost every way.
There were many snatches of interviews with Edith, when she was in New York
and one from London, and the sound of her voice was exciting all over again.
What poise she had, and what wit. A number of her poems were read, there were
snatches from her memoirs, and then a longish selection from "Facade" played
especially for this and read by a woman who did as well as the Dame herself.
I wish you might have heard it. I hope Pup did.

Your letter of the 20th was in the morning's mail. I thank you
for the Fenian stamp which I should not otherwise have seen. (I was glad to
be told yesterday that Justus keeps at his stamps). And thanks for the clipping,
especially about Philby. He is very shrewd, and is almost the first to intellectu-
alize his treason. I suspect he will be made into a hero not only of derring-do
but of the higher loyalty. He even seems to have a wry wit, as when admitting
he is tired of vodka. No, tired of caviar; it is unlikely he would tire of
drink. he goes a little too far, I think, when he says, "I do miss the casual
access to my children." he was never much of a family man even with so much
opportunity with so many families. But I suspect the important word is "casual."
Perhaps in Russia it is more difficult to be "casual."

The carpet for my office has only been ordered, and I wait patiently
for it.

Yes, I should be delighted to have the Anderson Viking for the
Greenland collection. You will note that I am veing very good about answering

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY

NEW HAVEN, CONN.

questions. I hope you will not return my letters post-London without re-
glancing through to answer mine. You have been so busy however, with so
many problems close at hand, that I can quite understand how it is hard
to give more than a quick glance at letters that come in, and impossible to
go back to them. Occasionally however it is useful for me to get an answer.

My mention of the Grindea was not to solicit a gift of his issues
to Yale, but simply to suggest that one might well put off to an indefinite
future any plan to subsidize him or issues of Adam. This is what he wants,
of course; one can understand.

I am glad you seem to sympathize with what seemed to me the lack of
both taste and practicality on the part of the Arts Council move. They
look upon themselves as a Ministry. Some one should rise in Parliament and
vote to cut down their budget if spent in this way. Wightman's letter was
particularly to the point, when he spoke of spending £120,000/ to house 20
members of the staff. I think it is less a matter of Communism than Egoism.

I see by the paper that the courts have called the Selby book *obsequen*
I myself at any rate would not have confused it with *Little Dorrit*.

I was naughty a few nights ago and had forgotten a might phone call
from Los Angeles asking me to show around Yale a man who was to be here with
the band of the Welch Guards. And his friend, a Collin Hunt, who also was a
Guardsman. But we were out on the 21st and I forgot until late the next
morning, because of my secretary, and when I called his room at the Taft he
was out and only his friend was there. I made my apologies, but who knows
what I missed. I don't know what instruments they played, but The Boys would
shake their heads in despair at my folly in not finding out.

The enclosed stamps were on a bundle of books, but were uncancelled.
Do you not have a friend in England who could use them? Despite Justus'
collection it seems a pity to have them wasted, especially in these times.

Part of my morning's work was to correct and amply the proof sent
me by Who's Who in America, or more correctly Who Was Who, vol. IV (1961-68)
about Hilda. I am glad she is in, and the final list of prizes looks very
impressive indeed.

Just to glance back over your recent letters to be sure I have noted
well. It was kind of Grindea to send you the aturday review with my Whittier
review in it. I had sent another copy earlier to you, actually in the envelope
with the copy of his letter to me. You noted the latter but must have missed
the former. Anyhow I am glad you've now seen it. I don't mean to burden you
with my things, but feel you should be au courant. # I had looked at the Maggs
catalogue of juveniles and saw nothing especially appropriate for diamonds. #
I will hope to see the son of Chris and Judith in Copenhagen. My plans now are
to fly to Frankfurt on January 29th and on toe Copenhagen on Monday February
5th. Back to New York on the 12th, keeping to Monday's of course because of the
economy ticket. Perhaps you will come to Copenhagen if you give up the idea
of South Africa.

Obviously it was a good idea to have your huddle with Coigny (Maitre);
he will be sensible about the best arrangements to carry out your wishes. That
is the chief goal.

Have just two queries to make of you this time. There are many more,
but I will try not to give them in too great a batch.

You gave me Weinberg's address and said he would write me about copies
of *Close Up*. He hasn't. Do you want me to write him and offer as many as I can?
Or do you think if he really wanted them, and was not being polite (there is a
set at the Museum of Modern Art), he would have taken the initiative. Not
having met him I naturally don't know. Kenneth by the way seemed a little sniffy

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

about Weimberg's letter, I thought. But I gather you yourself liked it.
I'll be glad to help him in any way you see fit.

You may remember--at least I think I got the chance to tell you--
that the young man who catalogues mss at Rota's was anxious for me to identify
a pamphlet which had slipped out from george Plank's things, and the wrapper
of which was marked "At the request of H.D." The wrapper was postmarked
Petersefield, "ants 3 October 1934. It was an anonymous pamphlet but
advertised when he ought it as "[?Hilda Doolittle]". He wondered if it was,
and has since sent me a xerox copy of it. I could mail to you but you may
know the answer anyhow. I have looked through george's letters to H.D. and
hers to him (more of the latter at that date than the former) and there is no
reference to anything of this sort. It is called "Cuffing the Thunder. A Fable."
and was printed at the Cheyne Press, 122, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. Are bells
struck? It seems very unlike Hilda, and in somewhat the manner of Cabell tells
the story of a giant who lived halfway up a mountain and liked to eat a young
man several times a year. "The giant would not have old men, or boys, or
females of any age. He must have young men, and he liked their flesh to be
tough, and their bones compact yet springy with youth." Groups of springy
young men went up, the giant drew lots, and one was left to be consumed. A
female of a young age married a springy youth who went up and was devoured.
She wished to kill the giant, and being a witch and the daughter and granddaughter
of witches could. So up she went, was killed several times but witchily could
return. Finally the giant began to enjoy killing her and did so completely
at last. But he died too. No, it was completely but not final, for she survived.
"But this killing of the giant did her, personally, no good, for a great many
of the men and quite three quarters of the women were furious with her for killing
the giant, and her witchery was proved on her and she was burnt. But that, after
the giant's play was no great matter, and witches can only love once, and the
bones of her husband were still in the ravine." All of which doesn't sound much
like a Doolittle parable. But was it a Herring, or a Kenneth or an O.B., or why
did Hilda send it to George. And who printed at 122 Cheyne. I can dig away,
but thought you might know the answer. Indeed it may be Hilda? r you?

The library closes early today and will be closed for most of tomorrow
because of the football game with Harvard. I must close in order to catch the
last elevator to the ground floor.

25 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

The day of THE GAME; that is, with Harvard. But, alas, it
rains--drizzles--and the question in an hour or so is whether we go or
not. We had asked a Japanese couple to go with us, and we shall have
to spend the afternoon with them if we don't. This might be nice but
if we are not to go to the game I should much prefer to go back to bed.
For we went last night to the R.W.B.Lewis's for dinner. He is the master
of a Yale college, and his chieft guests were the head of a Harvard
college with wife. Calhoun College here turned out to be having a dance
and eventually that had to be visited--then some rooms with electronic
gadgets in it, and by the end we were not home until two o'clock. Years
ago this didn't matter; today it does for both of us.

It is rather too bad about the weather, for drizzle and a
wet field means fumbles and little passing. Yale has an unusually good
team, has not beaten Harvard for several years and had hoped not only to
win but to pile up a big score. I hope they win, anyhow.

Tobight we go to another party, this time cocktails and a
buffet supper at the parents of a former student of mine who is now a
senior tutor at one of the Harvard colleges The father is a member of
the governing board of Yale so there are certain to be hoards. I think
we can easily slip out early.

Forgive my going on in this way. There is really little to
report after yesterday afternoon's letter save for the tired wails. I
am not really even up to more questions, so you can breathe easier for a
day.

Sunday, 26 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

Now, whatever else you may be justified in chiding me --
you must not say I am not thrifty. I could not bear to see an unused
stamp and so much empty space on the letter you left in the typewriter
when you departed from Johnson's Point. So you must suffer this re-
minder not of your own squanderous ways but of the haste with which we

My dear Elsie,

Delighted to find your two letters of the 31st and
2nd in the post this morning. Very, very many thanks for all
your good birthday wishes. I am so happy that you are going to
Istanbul ? When do you leave for the trip, do let me know the
date. I think I shall get back around the twentieth of September
it could be a couple of days later. It all depends upon when
beth has her exams and when they all go back to school. If
out to them for the weekend then I might need another day before
for Switzerland in New York. But it should be around 20th,
nd.

I know you will love Istanbul.

ed you off to the station now so many weeks ago.

I write from the office where I came this morning after removing
leaves from the drains by the garage, in order to pick up a manuscript
and's translations from the Chinese which I promised to read for
Princeton University Press. This afternoon I am taking Susan to Hart-
for an exhibition of Connecticut furniture so that she can make notes
own ancestral highboy--the one she inherited from her mother.

Yesterday's game was not good football on Yale's part --they
too tired after week's of excitement. But a 66 yard forward pass
last two minutes of the game gave Yale the touchdown it needed to
Some 70,000 people were in attendance--the Bowl was filled-- and
was electric throughout. Harvard played much better than expected
God had not wished Yale to win at long last would, I am sure, have
out ahead.

Our middle-aged Japanese couple were delighted with their first
experience of football, and applauded madly whenever anyone else did.
We left them at their partment after the game, went back to Goodrich
Street to rest and change, and then went on to the Horowitz party. There
were a number of younger people we knew, with whom we sat afor supper
and this was pleasant. But being tired we went home at 8:30 and I
finished the book about two former students of mine. I will tell you
about that at more leisure. This is simply to take advantage of another
day when I can send you

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

27 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

Such a treasure as I found in this morning's mail! Four letters: of the 21st (2), the 22nd and 23rd. And you are indeed a worthy treasurer to keep writing despite my tardinesses, my whimpers, and my too-many questions. But I am grateful all the same.

One wonders whether or the pound will be further devalued. I suppose the matter lies in the frequency of other devaluations, especially the dollar. The U.S. seems determined to keep it up, and I expect they are being backed by most others except France. They mutter that de Gaulle does it to embarrass the States; I myself think he wants to make everyone except France go down, and thus avoid the present disadvantage to the franc in terms of automotive exports and the like. As you say, if everyone else goes down then what will be the gain for Britain. And the world in general wants Britain on its feet. You will of course have to watch it for your dames (Good God, with all you have done you ought to be Damed by the Queen, but no hope of course with Labour in.)

Meanwhile you do have your dollars here if you would like them to be converted into gifts for the lower-case dames. No reason to take anything away from thr account for Hilda; I have taken care of most by the sale of the books and will take the rest from Hilda's royalties. I had a nice letter from Hildegarde today. I had not known Lord D was a relative of her mother; she thinks Hilda got on to his ghostly Lordship through Cousin Hattie.

Many thanks for the tip about Claud Cockburn. I don't think I've ever seen *I Claud*. And do not offhand recall your having sent me *The Week*. No doubt I shall come across them if you did, but in my recent tidying of bookshelves and storage I did not come across them.

I still would not worry about copies of *Adam* except as to help the old boy. And I had better check to be absolutely sure Yale does not have copies already. We will have to wait anyhow for Quayles I gather. I think I have now written you about my visit to him when I was in England. He might well be wise to hold on to a non-income producing asset.

No idea when the review of Carnevali will appear. Perhaps just before Christmas; they usually require six weeks at least in advance. There was a huge review of Marianne's complete poems by John Ashbery in yesterday's Times. He states solemnly that a year ago he had asserted she was the greatest poet in English of the century, with the possible exception of Stevens and Williams. Now he is forced to admit she is the very greatest. Poor Pound and Eliot and Yeats! But why not? She is very good indeed, and she deserves all the happiness she can get. She is a relic in her own lifetime, a finger bone one can kiss for the blessing of the Muse. How few saints have in their own womanhood had more than the anticipation of bliss.

Sachie's letter made my heart bleed. Fortunately he had a good review yesterday. (I have ordered the book for them, about Pavlov T.) I suppose

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Osbert was acting in self-defence when he ostracized Sachie. But Sachie could not strike back as Edith could and did. David was Edith's rival; he was almost a stepmother to Sachie. But how one sees the unhealed hurt in Sachie's reference to his brother; he didn't really want to go to Montegufoni, I think. Who would, at Christmas? And now this Maltese has life possession of a portion. Even in illness it seems a weakness on Osbert's part.

I was pleased at the mention of H.D. in the Times. She will have her day. # Catha's painting for you sounds very modern indeed, and colorful and rather fun. It was nice of her to do it. She does have a very real affection. # I had not known of Kokeritz's record on development of the English language. I suspect it may take a rather cleverer imitaror than he to slide down through the centuries without sounding perty much like himself. I went to order a Tolkien last week but all had been sold out and they were ordering fifty more.

Am most happy to think of your having been at the Glock, and able to breathe another air. I only wish you yourself could have talked to Elsie's doctor, but she would of course have been furious if she knew. It is hard to know what is physical and what psychosomatic, especially when they mutually feed each other. It is like the social problem on the trip. Elsie is frightened and so frightens and so is frightened. I hope you kick your heels once or twice while Elsie is in Zurich. Your social life sounds gay. Philip should be informative on the pound.

As for the Vernon Watkins books, I was only curious as to what you already have. Since Rota went to all the work of making out the list for me, I thought it only fair to let him search for the falls for lacunae. So don't disturb Fall. Anyhow I will pay out of dollars whereas with Fall you would taking dames-dough.

The bank has written that everyone now agrees to the sale of the land at the shore, but I heard only last Friday and must check to be sure we are in agreement as to the inclusion of a small plot of land where the mailboxes are. Then I will have to instruct Coigny to make over the money he has been holding in reserve for it. But since it is in savings account, I hope I can stall the bank off until the first of the year and thus conserve interest for the last quarter.

The weather was almost balmy yesterday and we drove to Hartford to see the colonial Connecticut furniture. It was an excellent show, though rather more highboys than I needed to see. Susan's is apparently a little different from all the rest. We went on afterwards to the Mark Twain house where they have been re-stencilling the front reception hall to restore it to the Tiffany period. Similarly for the drawing room. The results are handsome indeed. This afternoon I have to go back for a meeting of their Planning Committee of which I am Chairman. I stay for supper, and Susan goes to the annual meeting of the New Haven Colony Historical Society of whose board she is a member.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

I feel like a very dull boy indeed. The end of the day is here, and what I can show for it are exhaustion and 24 letters neatly stamped and ready for the mail. Yours will be the 25th, but the others have been dictated. I have alas, in desperation, taken to dictating letters I should have done with my own fair fingers before. But I simply must get my desk in presentable shape. The temp-sec left some minutes ago. Since then I have been making up another little pile of matters to be attended to tomorrow.

One of the 23rd from you, and one of the 25th were in the mail this morning. Which made a cold day warm. It was good to hear that Philip as usual had covered himself as against the cold pound. He must have been most interesting on the subject. Or was this of Philip as by correspondence, and his visit to you still to come? One will simply have to wait to see how the averages work out. Dusty Diamonds, as from Quayle, are the last thing to worry about. I doubt anyhow that he will want to sell now that the pound is uncertain. At least I should not, if I were he.

We flew Aer Lingus to Ireland. Usually they are impeccable, which was one reason proud Ireland was so distressed. But the pilots behaved beautifully. We were by the way much pleased with Qantas on the return flight. Everything simple but clean and comfortable. Very much to your taste.

Much pleased of course that Joan was looking so well. This had probably been nagging her for years. She may be very much better indeed, psychologically as well as physically.

I found Marianne's letter really charming. It was a great gesture of devotion to you, an accolade in every sense. I loved her falling asleep at the typewriter at 2 a.m. "profane boor."

I lunched this noon with Robert Penn Warren and had much talk of John Crow Ransom about whom he is writing an article. Another 80th birthday. My own will be here soon, perhaps too soon.

One of my 24 letters today was to Rose, and I am much relieved to have it off my mind. I pray for a good day at the machine tomorrow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

29 November 1967

Dearest Fido,

Even my sense of accomplishment is growing weary of working all day at my desk, when one could write or read or just sit so much more pleasantly. Still, 22 letters will be carried out of the office in a few minutes, a certain amount of business has been carried out over the phone, and if I look hard enough I can see wood in the interstices of paper on the topside of my work area.

Tomorrow I go to New York and will not try to have anyone in again until next week. There are things that could be done but I can prepare better with a little free time to work in. Actually by the end of next week I should be in pretty good shape; that is, ready to begin the sweat of Christmas cards and letters. A certain amount of shopping has been done, and packages will go out to you at the end of the week or beginning of next. I am simply airmailing all, since it takes increasingly long to go by surface. Christmas is only annual anyhow, and what's a dollar for. You can either open or be a good girl as you think best. One package addressed to you will be for Ines, which I assume you can pass quietly to her in the dark of the night.

The trip tomorrow is a pure gesture to my friend Jean Charlot, the artist we knew in Mexico first but who now lives in Hawaii. His son Martin is having his first New York show and they wanted us to go down for the vernissage. We couldn't, and the show ends at the end of this week. I simply must put in an appearance and write the father about it. But I can also check a Hawthorne letter to be put up for auction next week, inexplicably having received no catalogue for the sale. I may see if I can find a joke gift or two, but having to go in for the Johnson's Point land this year, as well as so many unexpected heaters at the shore and in Goodrich Street (I may not have reported on the breakdown of the water heaters, tho after some 25 years) I shall be more church mouse than Santa Claus.

Your second letter of the 25th arrived this morning. I do think that is Joan would like the idea of a visit to the States she ought to come. Susan and I would naturally enjoy showing her around these parts, and I know John and Perdita would like her there. We could arrange for several points of contact. Then if she liked it she might come for a year of working. Women do do this, either in New York or even at Yale. A very good idea indeed.

I was just about to write you that I was wrong and Tolkien had indeed written a story as well as the new song book. And now you say it is worthless. He is in a different situation from you in having devoted his scholarly life to the quest theme and the various myths which he wove bit by bit over the years into a tapestry. He did this marvelously but once done it really was done. You on the other hand have worked in numerous periods, and can move from one to the other. Your only danger point is in an over-reliance on the escape story. The repetition of anguish at the passing of an age probably gains strength by being shown to be recurrent in history.

Dear Fido,

22 November 1968

Back this noon from Wheaton College and back just now from the surgeon's office where I had at least some of the stitches takes out. It never occurred to me that he wouldn't take all out but I am to return Tuesday afternoon for the rest. And, alas, he didn't want to do the other three until after Thanksgiving, so I shall have to begin once again.

Your letters of the 19th and 20th were on my desk waiting for me this afternoon, but whether they came yesterday or today I don't know. I am terribly sorry at all your threatened interruptions but know that even though they will prevent the memoirs they will give you fun in having people to talk to. And I agree it is important for you to see Catha and Jacques. But I still hope you will be able to see Sarasin, and of course make plans for your long visit to Israel. If you could actually get in a hostel you would be much closer to the experience of the country than in any luxury or middle-range hotel. One of the interesting phenomena of our day is the complete fascination that Israel has even for non-Jews. Perhaps like the early American experiment when it was still an experiment. Perhaps you should take Wipf with you; I am sure that Sir Gavin would happily shut himself up in a library and turn out another twenty articles. Sylva should indeed have a trip, but not with you. Her diet and physical problems would get in your way. But a trip she should have. She has been through too much for anyone to have to bear.

What a nuisance that my letter of the 9th took so long that it arrived only with those of the 14th and 15th. It must have beeb mislaid by some clerk.

I hadn't known about the Gordon Stables article in Blackwood's.
Perhaps there will be a copy at the Yale Library and I can have the article
xeroxed. Do you know what year and number it appeared in?

I feared you would become soft-hearted about the Tiger, and alas
my fears are now justified.

Tomorrow is the Yale-Harvard game, in Cambridge. Only 38,000
tickets but 120,000 applied for. Pairs go from $60.00 to $100.00 apiece from
scalpers, and alumni (even) who were in time were only allowed 2. I got 4 but
turned them over to my brother, who is luckier than he knows. We will go to
the New Haven Arena and watch on closed-circuit television @ 5.00 a ticket. I
have never done this before but of course one is interested.

Sorry not to write about the trip but will do that tomorrow morn-
ing. I wanted only to get at least a note in the post by which to send you

23 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

I promise you this will be a letter of the utmost confusion, with
little or no coherence. I am spending what of the morning I have (this after-
noon I go to watch the Harvard game by closed circuit t.v.) trying to clean up
my desk at least at little. There have been two yellowbacks since I last re-
ported so let me start with those, both from London.

Obviously Phyllis did have a good time on her jaunt with you. She
probably takes fewer customers now and so misses the traveling that used to
keep her busy.... Sad news about Osbert and his pneumonia, though I sometimes
wonder how he manages to hang on and whether (really) it is a matter for re-
joicing that he does. Yet Sachie, certainly, will feel all the lonelier. I
have not written him about my failure to place the poems and hardly dare to,
lest his poems seem lonelier still. But I can, as of Christmas, if you indicate.
I simply don't know him well enough to know what the right thing is. ... I hope
you will continue at least occasionally to see Maurice Temple Smith in London.
He is a useful contact in terms of general publishing intelligence. Did I tell
you that I bought an interesting English book on industrial espionage? I
thought it might amuse you when you are on this side.... A nice letter from
Mary Hotson to you; you say they are now back in North Haven but I have not
run into them. Not surprising since they turn to me only to hear about you.
... Melitta must have the longest series of housekeepers on record. But I
know they are hard to find even in London. Perhaps the Labor Party's newest
taxes (what a horror!) will force more aristocrats and middle-class people
into service.... A happier letter from Robin, I thought, in consequence of
your visit.... I was much interested that Horace seems finally to be reading
the book on Mrs Ruskin which I gave them as from you two years ago. I sent
them the second in the duet as from my myself but it was never acknowledged.
Now he may get on to it. In his defense I do think he had little undisturbed
time at the hospital when he could read. He really did mind being four in a
room, not for social reasons but because any artist must occasionally be able
to withdraw into himself.... I must say, I was absolutely bowled over by Alan's
letter to you about Pilkington's. He has had a change of life,-- nothing else
could account for his so suddenly growing up. Granted there is something a
little amusing in his mask of efficiency and good business sense and explanation
of why his older brother is having difficulties in adjusting. But Alan is
obviously wearing his job like a glove..... I was particularly pleased too to
have the postcard of Biggin Hill after reading so many descriptions by Rose of
herself climbing it.... Had not realised that so little notice was given to
Harold Doolittle's death. You forgot to send me Annette's name so that I could
write her. Can't say I blame you, you're being so busy, and no doubt you didn't
have the name with you on your travels.

I paragraph separately: Dean's letter about the Hardy letters which
she sold Prof. Purdy at Yale. These were not the big lot which went to the
University of Texas for at least £1,000. Yale I am told was underbidder at £900.
Purdy bought some minor ones to Shorter and from Mrs Hardy to him and, I think,
an earlier Mrs Shorter than Doris. I know Dick well and he is doing the official
edition of collected letters of Hardy. I can well see why she wouldn't want to
sell the Hardy letters she still has, but hope for the sake of her father's
reputation that she will make the texts available for the edition. Poor Shorter's
reputation needs all the help it can get. But most obviously this is the edition.

Now to other scraps of disconnection.

The Not a scrap at all was the arrival of the first chapter of Snowflakes
and Vine, a real Henty title if ever there was one! I liked this even better, but
hope that as a Christmas present you will save me a copy of the version I returned
to you for Helen. For the archives, so to speak.

2

Speaking of archives, I was astonished on my return from Wheaton
to find a note to call the Director of Manuscripts at Yale. Yale it seems
has had a letter from Syracuse asking if your manuscripts are already at
Yale but still in my possession, whether there was a firm agreement between
me and Yale that your manuscripts would go to Yale, and if not then they
would like to discuss with me the acquisition of yours. Now of course your
papers and archives will go wherever you wish them to be. But I am frankly
angry that Syracuse did not take your word as to the gift and their eventual
destination. I would not dream of selling them to Syracuse or anywhere, in
order to make money. I am more than aony I am furious. I told Yale, who
knows me after all as a friend, that I disapproved of another library's
putting them in the position of forcing me into a firm commitment for any-
thing, especially since I do not want people now to paw over your letters from others
as Syracuse is pawing over your letters to Horace and mine to him. I don't
blame Horace, he felt he was being shrewd. Anyhow Yale is to write Syracuse
saying that none of your papers are at Yale (in the library's possession)
and that I have not discussed the matter with them. I rather hope that Syracuse
will in fact write me to try to persuade me, for if they do I can give them
a reply written with bane and poison. Still I can be dissuaded if you prefer
your papers at Syracuse than alongside Hilda's.

You and Hilda both figure in a recent English catalogue, in part books
by, about and relating to women. There is an immense Sitwell collection of
presentation books and manuscript poems and letters as to Thomas Balston from 1924-
1954. He was, I believe, their publisher, at Duckworth. Price £8,500. And a
collection of 21 letters from Harriet Martineau to Henry Bright, mentioning
Hawthorne and other contemporary writers on the English and American scene. £1,150.
So Syracuse isn't after peanuts in wanting your collection.

I was much interested in O.B.'s very serious article on Max Chapman's
painting. Highly technical and a little beyond me, but a different side of O.B.
than what one generally sees in his lighter writing.

My little Mr Shimada, who got into difficulties with the Co-op has just
been given an assistant professorship at Hitotsubashi University in Tokyo. This is
a good university and he replaces another former student of mine who was professor
there and has just died of cancer (I think).

I have had a letter or rather enclosure from Rose, of an article on the
Sexual Revolution in literature written by Angus Wilson, in the *Listener*. Begins
with a quote from D.R. Too big to Xerox, would you like me to send?

I am also somewhat in doubt about the new edition of Hilda's *Palinsest*
which Southern Illinois University Press has just published. It has an uninforma-
tive introduction by Harry Moore in which he says you write under the name of
Bryher (I have corrected him on that), has a most attractive jacket and is well
printed. But I don't know whether you want to add it to your books at K enwin or
prefer to have it held here. Please to advise.

I am enclosing the report of David Prokosh about the Sachs Fund, which
I had xeroxed for you. I have ok'd it and sent it back. I shall urge him to keep
after the hospital. One would think they would jump at the chance of funds. If
nothing continues to happen, we can transfer to Yale or some other spot. But I
still think Boston preferable because of Sachs' connection with that area.

I phoned Kenneth this morning, and since he seemed relaxed we had what I seldom do,"a good chat." He goes to Prutting next Monday for a final knapsack of pills and instructions, and plans to return next year about the same time. Really there is no one, not even in England, up to Prutting. I think Islay rather likes the idea of London so that he combine the state of Kenneth's health with his mother's. I told them of your plan to settle in at an Israeli kibutz, and we both agreed that it might be great fun but not for us. He suggested our coming to Cetona after seeing you next spring, as before, bringing you with us for an extra stay once we left. Or if things should have happened with Kenwin that we all meet in Rome. Or possibly that they come to K enwin.

Our trip to Wheaton College was not really very eventful. The weather was excellent, we alternated at the wheel, and arrived for a late lunch at the motel. It is a half hour beyond Providence. 15 minutes more accurately. I napped until before the lecture at 4:30 which was an old one, on Hawthorne's letters, which I dig out whenever I have to do a favor, as this time. The fee was $100. (low) and by the time I have paid expenses and taxes not much is left. But the chairman and a professor are old friends of mine and have wanted me for years to come. Last year I couldn't. About 200 girls turned out (it is a girls college), drawn by the fact that I was a Yale professor and hence from a school about to become co-ed. This was affidavited by the posters and their comments. I have a niece who is there and she appeared with her friends and my sister and a friedd who drove down from Gardner. That group went off by themselves to dinner; I went to another dinner and sat with five little girls all supposed to be interested in American literature. In fact they were more interested in Yale. After dinner we went to Curtis Dahl's house for a party and met a good many from the faculty, including a former student. I'm glad to say we did stay at a hotel rather than accept his guests and have to breakfast with two children being gotten off to school. As a result of being by ourselves we were back at Yale by noon; I read the mail and signed letters and then went to have my stitches plucked. Or at least some of them.

I wonder how Yale will do this afternoon?

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

24 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

Time out for a letter to you after an office morning spent in reading over the page proofs of a new and enlarged edition of the history of American literature published in Japan. The equally enlarged notes in Japanese, explaining my English, seem confused in their location. But not speaking Japanese I cannot be an authority on that. What I can do is to alter "Hilder Doolittle" to "Hilda Doolittle." Things of that sort, including what I obviously sent in as "a gentle manner" when I meant "genteel."

The mailroom boy did not come in yesterday, but must have this morning for I found several letters and packages, tho alas nothing from you. Indeed I have almost nothing to report on to you. We went to the skating rink at the New Haven Arena to watch the closed circuit television of the Harvard game, and wept to see Yale make six crucial fumbles and lose a victory in letting Harvard tie 29-29. But it was an exciting game, for Harvard scored unbelievably two touchdowns in the last minute, the final one being played when the clock stopped and the tying two points achieved in the allowed extended time. Yale of course is disconsolate, having been so proud; and the Yale stars see their professional football contracts withering.

Last night we went to a comedy at the Shubert, Julie Harris in something called 40 carats, perhaps because she as a 40-year-old mother happily marries a 22-year-old boy of wealth; and her 17-year-old daughter goes to live with and have a child by a 46-year-old Texan millionaire. These were happy endings to a comedy I should not have expected when I was younger. ... C'est pas la meme chose.

And France of course keeps one's attention while my General acts out his role. The French will adore his memory a century from now, but the bankers at the moment must hate him. Still he has courage, to think that a 3 billion franc loan to keep the French economy from tottering is a man's date from the rest of the world to oppose their economics.

Did I thank you for sending the postcard of the lion family at the Duke's zoo? I do.

Have you suggestions for a Christmas gift to Ines from the States? A piece of costume jewelry? An American scarf. A crucifix blessed by me?

All love, as always

FORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

This I fear is rather short change after my silence yesterday. But I had no hope from the beginning of today that I should be able to write much, if any. For I had a morning which began with cold and flu pricks at the doctor's and will end in ten minutes or so when I go to the surgeon's to have the remaining stitches removed. I had hope to have the new Hong Kong Flu shot, but alas they still haven't been developed and my doctor more or less gives up hope. Or at any rate says he can still give the new one too if ever it appears.

Between whiles I had a solid morning of appointments and an afternoon seminar. Plus all the mail from yesterday and today which I could only get to just now after my seminar. Absurd masses of it. I thank you for two but will answer them tomorrow or on Thanksgiving Day.

I went yesterday to Erwinna, Pennsylvania, in Bucks County, not too far from Lancaster where I took you several times. Twice anyhow. Very lovely country even without leaves on the trees, and I had not been just here before. The visit was to Josephine Herbst whose manuscripts and correspondence Yale purchased and we brought back. You may remember her writing from the '30s; you had several of her books, I know. She seemed to feel that I was necessary to the farewell ceremonies, and I guess I was. Anyhow Gallup being on leave she did not want to consign her things into total darkness. Indeed did not quite know what ought to be consigned.

This matter of the disposal of archives is getting to be a troublesome aspect of the contemporary scene. Gallup was at supper Sunday night with Valerie Eliot and Marianne Moore and the Mrs Cohn to whom Marianne has been selling things. Marianne was happy because Texas had offered her $100,000 for her archives, and the Rosenbach Foundation in Philadelphia, on hearing this, had offered an indeterminate more. Marianne feels, just as Sylvia Beach did, that she has made good on the normal bourgeois terms of property, much as an investment banker might. Marianne he said had trouble holding herself up, gave a very long account of how she had been asked to contribute to a book on Central Park, and then began and told the same story over again. She was not at all well. I forget which birthday she has just had, but of course she has not been in good health for some time.

I must dash now to the surgeon.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

27 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day but whether I can properly celebrate by a proper letter to you is another matter. For what with guests and all I am not even sure I can get to the office at all. However, Friday should be a little better and one hopes for the best over the weekend. As for this afternoon there is again little left of it. I had a morning solid with appointments, followed by a lunch with a Meredith scholar from the University of Tasmania (for whom America is opening up is a way miraculous to his eyes), and then my somewhat ill-prepared graduate seminar. But fortunately this was on _The Scarlet letter_ which I had at least once read.

The Boys are off today and one hopes they have a calm passage. I phoned yesterday to say goodbye and a chance to talk with Islay this time, though no time for more than farewell since he was obviously breathless with engagements, and (I guess) breathless from them as well for altho I called in mid-morning I gather I roused him from his bed. No doubt a farewell party. I am struck with awe at the image of their being hosts at a Four Seasons dinner for Dietrich, Leontyne Price and Jimmy Daniel. It is enough to make my peasant eyes boggle at the dazzle of both company and probable bill. I saw that Kenneth complained of the costs and fatigue of New York in his letter to you, tho he amiably and convincingly assured me he would be back next year. Islay did not at all echo this, and I think secretly likes New York very little and feels out of his element. Kenneth rather likes it without being completely for it as for a long spell. New York is expensive of course, but one does not have to live at maximum expense. Indeed, in fairness, they don't; and the Buckingham saves them money over what a similar suite would cost them elsewhere. I do wish I or we could have gotten down to see them but it was quite impossible.

I visited my surgeon late yesterday afternoon and had the remaining stitches takes out. He gives me a reprieve now for a week or so before operating again.

What a very nice letter from Mrs Packard about her sister's death. I wonder what Philip will have been able to arrange, if anything, about the books and papers. But I am sure nothing has definitely been settled, or at least favorably so. Otherwise he might have sent a cable. Negative results would inevitably be more casually reported.

Poor England and her old dames, with the new taxes. And France will at least feel poor. That is, all save the General. We ought to drop Sir Gavin in from the air and let him serve as sabotage. With what glee he would behead.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

I must be breaking all tabus by coming to the office on
Thanksgiving morning. But I did the dishes and carried the wastebaskets
into the cellar and afterwards my only contribution was to keep out of
the way. But it is a very real thanksgiving to be able to write you and
get a little more done on my desk. I have unwrapped six or seven packages
of dusty diamonds, for the Bryher tierra and put the paper where the janitor
can dispose of it tomorrow or Monday. This is a complete holiday of course
and hence no mail. But tomorrow there will be, and with it I am sure
something from you. And I need this chance to catch up with yours, which
I have been answering too spasmodically. I am sure that I have not offici-
ally registered the recipt of the following, though I have answered parts
of them: 21, 22, 23, 24, 25.

To return to them. The flat Marie Anne suggests looks like
an excellent idea, and I am sure you would not be bothered by this sort
of fellow tenant. Also very convenient to the buses to and from Kenwin
and shopping. I would think this might be an excellent bridge. *** The
first two chapters have arrived, and Mrs Hamerman is typing the first
chapter. So there will be no charge, as she is on my payroll. But if you
want to send her a Grieder scarf or something of that Swiss scarf, she
would probably be pleased. Mrs Wilda Hamerman (or Mrs Martin Hamerman)
at my office. No need of course to do this. Glad you progress so well.
Don't try to rework too much; it was excellent as it was. *** Yes I too
rather envy Kenneth and the circle he maintains, but of course you more so
since they were your crowd too, so to speak. *** And I am glad you are
willing to do a foreword to Margery's book. In the group hers will sell
to your name can only help. But your fears remind me of when Oscar
Williams, the anthologist, once stopped me on the street in New York and
asked why I hadn't sent him a blurb he could use on the jacket. "Oh,
Oscar," I murmured, "my name wouldn't do any good." "I know!" he
exclaimed, "but it would help with the Kenyon Review and Sewanee crowd."
*** No vaccine here, as I reported, and my doctor thinks the drug houses
are putting up a smoke screen to show they are active. *** I am sorry
indeed about the lad with deformed arm about whom you have spoken to me
many times. Life can continue to be very cruel. One might have thought
he had earned his tranquility. **** I have no idea who Prof Bryer is,
but of course will know one day. So far I have not been able to do his
work for him, nor for the Freudian analysis of Hilda written up in another
article, for the same issue. ** One still does not know what is likely
to happen with the French. But the students and workers I should think
might well feel defrauded of their promise for better working conditions,
governmental reform and educational reforms. Rien de tout. *** Godkin
was a 19th century (late) Irishman very ant i-British because of Ireland
who came to the States and became a liberal and editor of the Nation. Then
got to like England very much when they no longer snubbed him as they did
when he was a young man just over from Dublin. He was, you see, not
Anglo-Irish. *** How nice of you to remember Miss Brown, Gretchen and May
I must begin my cards, at least those that need notes on them.

Hamerman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Many thanks for the copy of Trevow-Roper's *The Philby Affair* which I had not known even existed. Very clever of you, and I am most grateful. I am ordering a copy sent to Tokyo to my old colleague there who knew T-R too. Rose Odle has sent a copy of *The Evacuees* with a contribution of hers in it. I thought that most kind of her. I'm sorry about my silence vis-a-vis Islay's book. But I had simply forgotten to order it. I now have.

A fat yellowback arrived a couple of days ago. Largely filled with my surely incomprehensible telegrams about the Jackson affair. No wonder you were bewildered. I rather wonder what the outcome will be. My hunch is that he will go to some bookdealer with the books and to an auction house with the trophies. *** I was pleased to add the catalogue of Max Chapman's show to the collection. At least this is smaller than a paintigng. Paintings become as increasingly difficult to house as books are. *** I was fascinated by your correspondent who wrote "I warn't...." This is a straight old New England pronunciation though no one ever spelled it out.

A drizzling day which is too bad for the children who everywhere are sent out to run after the turkey dinner. The two grandchildren, however, have at least the remnants of colds and so will presumably hug the television. The distant cousin who is at the New Haven hospital as nurse goes on duty at 3 p.m., so we commence early.

Do you remember the Thanksgiving dinner we had at the Lawn Club?

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

29 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

A day of circulation and so it is hard to know whether anything was or was not accomplished. I suppose it was. At least I was able to post six packages of books to various destinations, a number of them copies of Hilda's Palimpsest. Then I stopped at the bakery for buns and went to the jeweler's to see if he had a suitable desk clock for me to give Susan at Christmas (he didn't), and after that to the bank to transfer some money from savings to checking in order to pay current and incoming bills, and to deposit a new ten dollar permissions fee to Hilda's account. And then to buy some Christmas cards or the first 275 of them. I always go for ten cents apiece, feeling that my greetings need not be gilded. And then to the Co-op to buy a book for you. And finally back to my office with time for not much more than eating a turkey sandwich Susan had made for me because I knew I would be hurried before my one o'clock appointment at the physical medicine section of the hospital. I was raked over the coals for not having had time enough to exercise (5 minutes every hour. How!), or having my check up for emphysema. But indeed when could I? But they are right and I shall try to do better, and as they say why should I slide into hell sooner than necessary. But all this took until 2:30 and then I had more errands to do and have come back to the office only a little while ago in time to receive a man who came to see me about library matters. So did I or didn't I get anything done. My desk says I didn't.

Your letter of the 26th came to relieve me. I am sorry about the Stables, but at least the magazine has never come as yet. No doubt it will. Things take 4 weeks or so, although a new bookdealer who has been sending me The Boy's Own manages to get them here much sooner than the others. He must have a special track.

The possibility of Israel sounds exciting, and I am sure Kenneth wants you to come whenever is most convenient to you. I can see that after-Christmas might be somewhat simpler, unless one runs into the New Year traveling.

I had not thought of Jacques and Catha in terms of the franc but of course this must have made an enormous difference. I believe they were quite severe with outgoing French. I haven't felt drawn there of late years, de Gaulle playing no direct role in this. But the country seems, one senses, dull.

The clipping about Eleanor Philby's death was excellent and I thank you for sending it. I notice a much sharper tone in reference to Philby himself, due I think in large part to the autobiography. No one likes being laughed at, and the British were laughed at.

Thanksgiving dinner, yesterday noon, was very pleasant indeed. The cousin was pretty and both girls liked her. The food was excellent--turkey and mince and pumkin pies in addition to the vegetables and cranberry sauce. The grandchildren were beautifully behaved and yet when the day was over I found myself tired. But I went back to my knitting at night and managed to read a good bit of necessary pages.

Today has been close to 60F. How changeable it all is. I hope it has been better with your climate.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

30 November 1968

Dearest Fido,

A dismal day to end November but I have spent it safely snuggled in my Graduate School room, finishing reading the manuscript for the Rutgers University Press of a book on Hawthorne. The title, rather grandiloquently, was *The Invisible Circle: the Problem of Time in Hawthorne's Fiction* and I fear I found it somewhat less original than its author did. But since he had no footnotes perhaps he really did think it all up himself.

I spent last night also reading it as well as finishing the skim through a book on Balzaac for the author of which I shall have to write a recommendation (among six others) tomorrow for a Guggenheim Fellowship. I had thought to write these too today but the manuscript of the book bogged me down somewhat, and then when I went to search for a necessary letter before writing my report I discovered that poor Mrs Hamerman had fallen so far behind in her filing (I imagine she, understandably, doesn't enjoy filing) that in successfully finding one of the two missing documents I filed almost everything for her. Which consumed my time but will help her, I hope.

A luncheon this noon with the retiring dean of the graduate school in which he made pretty clear why he was resigning. In part the administration, in part the always protesting student activists who have held up the new graduate school building because they insist on their planning for later graduate students, and of course mostly sheer fatigue.

I think I forgot to tell you that when I went to see Josephine Herbst she presented me with an ink caricature of Elinor Wylie drawn by Katherine Anne Porter. An amusing addition to "Art for the Wrong Reason," although I daresay this isn't art by any reason. The drawing by Victoria is now hung in the back hall.

Tonight we entertain Susan's family for dinner at Mory's: the Hoblitzelles, the Footes, and her sister Jane. I shall feel locally like a Kenneth at the Four Seasons.

Back to the office tomorrow to read ACLS fellowship applications, a stack five inches high.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

1 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

Sunday morning again at the office. Susan is used to seeing me pick up and leave the house, but we were hosts for last night and today to young Susan's springer spaniel while she visited in Providence. He was disconsolate indeed when I closed the door behind me, for his idea of a proper Sunday morning (or any morning or time of the day) is to throw a rubber ball for him to fetch. I did so a few times for him before breakfast and he raced up and down the back hillside with complete glee and a vibrant tail. He is good in the house but spends most of his time looking at the top of the refrigerator where a basket sits with the ball in it.

And oh dear the local newspaper has now refused to let our newsman deliver their Evening Register which they want done by their own newsboys. But without this to add to the morning New York Times, the newsman cannot earn enough to live (I suspect), and shortly I shall have to go each day to buy the Times as most must. All we had today was a notice that there could be no Register so out I drove downtown to buy one. For it would be no Sunday for Susan without her local news. Nor for me too by now, since I approve of academics taking local interest.

Otherwise I have sat at my desk, not getting on applications for scholarships as yet, nor to the recommendations which I must write this afternoon. But I have a tidy little pile of bills paid, and I can begin to write Christmas cards with notes instead of full letters to thank for this or that. Some, for abroad, I shall send immediately. Others I can omit the date and simply drop in the box in a fortnight.

And I have my speech still to write, which I give next Saturday at the meeting in Texas.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

2 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

Yesterday afternoon passed peacefully at the office, and I at least finished the Guggenheim letters of recommendation as well as one for an Englishman applying for a Fellowship at Peterhouse. So it was 6:60 before I got home to change for dinner out, in honor of my friend Schilling, a professor from Rochester, to whose lecture I must shortly go and then for drinks in his honor and a second dinner in his honor. One lives in a sort of Chowder and Marching Club.

I began the morning by an early visit to the dentist, I have lifted out a gold inlay yesterday afternoon by indulging myself in a leftover Halloween Tootsie Roll. In this way is lust punished, though God relented and the dentist was able to put the same inlay back in. Then to the jewellers to return the catalogue of desk clocks, none of which was right for the study, and to the bank to cash travelers checks to take me part of the way to Texas on Thursday.

I read the Sunday papers only last night after the dinner party, but was not struck by much news except an interview with the Duke and Duchess of Bedford which I read because of your visit to them. "The towering aristocrat and his auburn-haired duchess" were mostly concerned with their visit to the States a year ago. "They are not quite sure how to react, really, her ladyship said, recalling her surprise when a bewildered American gentleman curtsied low in the receiving line." This is a picture certainly to cause surprise, but somehow I doubt that it ever quite happened.

Your letters of the 26th and 29th came in today's mail. I am sorry that you have had to be troubled with an angry letter from Mr Jackson and will be interested to know what angered him. Perhaps he is just confused, and so Philip's letter seemed peremptory. And indeed to a degree it was. Then too there may have been some misunderstanding or mis-hearing about the price asked. One doesn't know. I should enjoy the pennant for a while. He may cool off and something be worked out anyhow. In today's mail also I had a letter from him, his first, sent before the cables. But he sent it with inlan d British postage so that it came surface and with much postage due at that. I suppose I had better write a note and explain why his letter had not reached me, hence my surprise.

Many thanks too for the First-day Christmas cover.

Your visit from Catha seems to have been a valuable one for her. I am sure she needs the security you can give her personally, as an older person. Her insecurity may have started at four months, especially if she remembers it. But she lived a life of insecurity with an older father, a mother who cleared out, and no playmates.

Many thanks for saving the ms of *Snowflakes*. I shall be eager to compare it. Chapter Two, for example, seemed a good deal changed. * As to Syracuse we understand each other precisely. * Will save the *Palimpsest*,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

3 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

Your letter of the 28th arrived this late afternoon, after yours of the 29th had come yesterday. The mails, like the rest of the world, seems askew. As for myself I have little to report in the ten minutes available to me between my seminar and a committee meeting to plan next spring's alumni seminars. Why I am involved in this I can't imagine; I guess I was simply told. The lecture yesterday afternoon was I am sure an excellent one, but it is difficult for me to listen even to a discourse on Balzac and Dickens. Then there was dinner afterwards, and this morning spent in preparing for an afternoon seminar with undergraduates on Anderson's *Winesburg, Ohio*. Tonight I must take Susan to the New Haven Symphony.

So sorry that you are faced with a decision on the cat. But long
months chez vets seem c ruel on her. The Tiger has had a good life all things
considered.

The monetary system well may crumble. One fears the worst, and I still would like things in order with the houses before this happens. Alas, as we both know, the money that seemed to stretch so far hardly does any more even with a rising market.

I am sure Pat's analysis could be paid for by the Fund if we ordered it to be done, but you would simply have to put the matter directly to him, asking if he would if we could. Meanwhile it had been our idea, as in Pokross's letter, to train analysts as a way of extending the benefits of the training, like the enlarging circles when one stone is cast into water.

I think you are heading in the right direction in thinking of closing Kenwin willy-nilly, and if this continues to seem a good idea then I most certainly would grab any such flat as you described to me, especially so if at current rents. One could always sublet, and the rents will certainly increase.

Alas I must dash now but will try to write again tomorrow. Thursday morning early I set off for Texas.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

4 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

It has poured with unbelievable fury, almost tropical, all day long and I have kept close to the office with only occasional darts (really one dart to and another fro) between HGS and Mory's. But I must venture out again to buy an evening newspaper after finishing this letter to you.

Mrs Hamerman is down with the flu and so could not appear today. Perhaps it was just as well, or at least all was not lost, for I wrote a few notes longhand rather than pile more tape on her desk, and prepared my seminar. Lunch was with Robert Penn Warren with a lengthy discussion about Hawthorne on whom he seems to be writing.

Your two of the 30th were here in today's mail, for which my gratitude. It will be interesting to see if the Swiss have the new flu vaccine so long before the Americans. I agree with you that Ines certainly must be shot (though what would Syracuse eyes think of such a statement?) *** Wendy had already been with you when the last batch of letters arrived but she was only about to arrive in your first. It is quite remarkable that she has picked up Turkish so well; I believe it is difficult. I should think there was any amount of writing she could do about such a country and its archaeology and customs. And fun to do too.

Wolfe was indeed a student of mine, flamboyant even then, and we turned back his dissertation on the Writers Congress because it was so pejorative. We said then, or rather David Potter my colleague did, that TK would outshine us all. He has. I remember a 30-typed-page report he did of Hemingway's use of "and." And a fireworks display on one of Pound's cantos. He has always been loyal to me, partly because we turned the dissertation back. He says now we were right. But he redid it and took his degree.

I wrote you about Pat's analysis, but think you are the only one who could suggest it. I suspect he won't, since he is so anxious to get on with his new job. But one never can tell.

But oh how sad I am to learn of Sarasin's death. It is exasperating to have the good ones taken away. He was a man one could love. A man of strength. A man of deep wisdom. We are all poorer, but especially you. I wish I were where I could put my arm over your shoulder.

I take a nine o'clock bus to morrow for Texas. Austin by way of a longish stopover in Dallas. I get in late afternoon, which gives me Friday to work on rare books and mss, especially John Gould Fletcher's letters to his first wife (I wonder if I will ever write the biography of him he wanted me to on Friday. Saturday is the regional meeting of the American Studies Association which I go to as national president. I am to address the luncheon, that is if I ever get a speach written. None so far even begun. Then back by plane on Sunday, and let us hope I am not highjacked to Cuba or again accused of having a bomb in my bag.

g.

The American Studies Association Of Texas

Thirteenth Annual Meeting

The University of Texas at Austin
Austin, Texas

December 7, 1968

THEME: Some Reflections Upon Modern America

REGISTRATION . . . Academic Center Auditorium, 8:30-9:30 A. M.
Coffee and doughnuts, Courtesy The University of Texas

MORNING SESSION

9:30-11:45 Academic Center Auditorium

Presiding: JEFF H. CAMPBELL, Southwestern University

DONALD K. PICKENS, North Texas State University, *Uncle Tom Becomes Nat*

Turner: *A Commentary on Two American Heroes*

CARROLL D. LAVERTY, Texas A&M University, *Poetry Reflects the MOD World*

CHARLES D. PEAVY, University of Houston, *The Revolutionary Theatre and the Black Arts Movement*

JEROME L. RODNITZKY, The University of Texas at Arlington, *The Rise of the Modern American Protest Song*

LUNCHEON

12:00 Noon Faculty Dining Room

Presiding: HENRY B. RULE, President American Studies Association of Texas, Lamar State College of Technology

Introduction of Speaker: WILLIAM H. GOETZMANN, The University of Texas at Austin

NORMAN H. PEARSON, President, American Studies Association, *American-Studies and American Literature Since 1919* The Nature & Possibilities of American Studies

BUSINESS MEETING

1:45 Faculty Dining Room

Presiding: HENRY B. RULE, President, American Studies Association of Texas

AFTERNOON SESSION

2:15-4:30 Academic Center Auditorium

Presiding: MABLE MAJOR, Baylor University

MIETZL MILLER, Lamar State College of Technology, *The American Work Cult and the Concepts of Job Creation vs. the Guaranteed Annual Income*

WILSON M. HUDSON, The University of Texas at Austin, *The Religious Aspects of Hipsterism*

LLOYD C. TAYLOR, Texas A&M University, *Eleanor Roosevelt, Edward Hopper, and the American Democratic Faith*

EUGENE W. JONES, Wayland Baptist College, *The Age of Protest—The DOTS*

GENERAL DISCUSSION OF PAPERS

OFFICERS

<table><tr><td>HENRY B. RULE, Lamar State College of Technology</td><td>President</td></tr><tr><td>J. MILTON NANCE, Texas A&M University</td><td>Vice-President</td></tr><tr><td>GEORGE W. DE SCHWEINITZ, Lamar State College of Technology</td><td>Secretary-Treasurer</td></tr><tr><td>MARY SUE CARLOCK, Texas Technological College</td><td>Councilor</td></tr><tr><td>JOE E. ERICSON, Stephen F. Austin State College</td><td>Councilor</td></tr><tr><td>DONALD L. WEISMANN, University of Texas at Austin</td><td>Councilor</td></tr></table>

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON
231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN

9 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

My trip up yesterday by plane was uneventful and I felt lucky

not to have been hijacked and taken to Cuba. It was coldish in Texas, as
against the mid-70's temperature when I arrived, but nothing like so cold
as the 32F I found here. This morning the thermometer read 18F when I
got up. I ought to have gone to an American Studies departmental party
on my return at 5 p.m. but I could not quite face it. So I stopped to
pick up the accumulated mail on my way home (Susan met me in the car at
the hotel) and had enough to keep me going all evening after dinner.

Chiefly among the mail, or most importantly, aside from your
letters, were the three chapters of SNOWFLAKES. I spent this morning
when I could snatch time from appointments, in going over them. For Mrs
H is well into your second chapter. I did find, however, a few problems
that will delay typing the new chapters until the queries are answered,
and so had xerox copies made of the pages in question, thinking it too
long and drawn out to try to describe them otherwise. Only of course I
have no carbon and so perhaps you should return these. I guess they are
self-explanatory. But one additional question remains for which there
is no xerox pages. Occasionally, but only occasionally, very occasionally,
you suddenly begin direct speech in the middle of a paragraph, in such a
way as not to distinguish between dialogue and a quoted proverb or something
of the sort. Do you mind if the quote in this circumstance begins with a
capital letter as American writers normally do? I think I've found only
two or three instances. I doubt this is a matter of your style but rather
is an Americanism which when not followed is misleading. But suit yourself
in this.

To you.

Your letter of the 2nd and two of the kind were at the office
Sunday night. Jus will be delighted with the new Pro Juventute set, used
as well as unused, and I thank you in his name. * Yale is in the midst
of the flu, and it looks as tho Susan had had at least a mild case of it
while I was gone. Mrs H certainly had a tough one and is still not quite
well. I wonder if I am not about to have a bit of it; but we shall see. *
Glad your visit from Wendy was such a success. I agree, if her book on
Turkey goes well, so might one on India. Though I imagine that the British
just now prefer reading about Turkey. * No, Jackson obviously intended
the Egret banner for you, especially since both you and Philip made the
point that it was what really meant most to you from a purely personal point.
It will make a gay spot in your new apartment. In my mail was another
letter from Jackson saying he hoped the things could come to the States
and mentioning £3,000 for all. But as you repeat, he wanted only £2,000
from you for the same things. I had written him a note at the end of the
week simply saying that his first letter had only come delayed surface. I
really can't interfere with Philip's strong-arm method, but have a hunch
that Jackson felt treated like a tradesman. I may be wrong. Doubt that he
is a much of a businessman. * It does seem far better that you should put
off the visit to Cetona until after Christmas, even if it means missing

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

your chance for confession and absolution from the Monsignor in Kenneth's private chapel. I like to think of you and the Monsignor tucked away under the new painting for a good quiet hour while you pout out your sins.

This morning were your letters of the 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th. The last, mailed only on Saturday must have traveled in almost record time. It could hardly be faster. * Delighted that you have your pricks. The Swiss are obviously avant garde on the matter, since none of the available yet in the States. * And glad that you had a little extra free time before the Volkarts came. I quite understand why Mrs V wished to; so much of what was taken is really of benefit to her. Except for the money of course. * I had by the way a letter from Downes in which he said how much he liked /slay's book (they are at odds of course, but the praise was obviously genuine). I have ordered a copy so don't worry about it. I was careless not to have done so long since.

The Grieder tie did come safely today, unquestioned by the Customs. But I leave unopened until Christmas. * I had not known you had written to the Stables-girl. I believe I have a clipping, that tells of children, somehow I recall as near Hastings. But I would have to check. * You can send the books out as to me, if you shift. And as I suggested it might be just as well for me to rent an apartment or apartments for you in my name so that on paper at least you were not maintaining an actual residence. Arnold & Porter can work out such details when you are ready actually to practise them. No point in worrying them about suppositions. In any event you certainly won't have to leave your books behind/

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

11 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

I could not write you yesterday, since a two-hour English

department meeting followed immediately on top of my seminar. This afternoon I really shouldn't try to write at all, since a meeting of the Board of the International Student Center, way out on Prospect Street, begins in 10 minutes. But at least I can write a note, and be not too late.

Your letter of the 8th came this morning. I only hope that the visit from the Volkarts was not too horribly and emotionally exhausting for you. I can realize only too well how one half of you wanted it over and done with, while the other half craved putting it off. * But I feel much better about your postponing your trip to the boys until January; and am sure, as you are, that eventually you will want to make a trip by freighter. In fact I suspect that freighters may be the answer to a lot of months in the future, especially winter ones. * But bad luck that one mustn't buy a flat. One can only trust Coigny in such matters. * I think I had the New Directions poetry books and gave them to the library. But one can sell these on your behalf, no point in giving them away.

I think I told you that I had written Jackson simply saying that his first letters to me had come by surface, and that I had thought from his wade that an emergency existed. Therefore I had turned to you, explained that the trophies would be too much to house and that I still hoped something could be arranged. Nothing more. Today I had the enclosed from him, quoting a price even less than your limit. What do you think? Should I accept and then arrange as with Brimmell and Quayle to have a certified check in £s sent him? I would however insist that the relies photos and manuscript poem etc be thrown in or included for a little more, and I had perhaps better do this if you don't think Philip will feel I am interfering. For a nearly complete set, this price isn't too far off and I am sure he could get this much or more from several places in the States. I can take the money from here unless you have extra pounds you'd like to get rid of. Will do nothing until I hear from you, but don't let me wait too long. Perhaps if Philip is in France you could talk to him on the phone.

Must dash now to my meeting.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

12 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

My life with you seems lately to be made up of hurried
notes. Today is no exception for I must plod my way across the cam-
pus to a college faculty meeting, having gone to none so far this
year. Tomorrow I go to Fairfield University to judge the accrediza-
tion of a Program in Communications (whatever that is) for the
State of Connecticut.

The early part of Chapter VII arrived yesterday, and
Mrs Hamerman was able to do some on it today. I had already told
her to type consecutively as far as pagination was concerned. She
was able to do the first two chapters and into the next, but of course
must now wait for the answer to my questions. She asked one of me
today, but I can't find the ms on her desk. Roughly as from VII
it was when the girl was waking up in the cold. Now I have it, on p.2.
"It was hard to be a rebel thus early in the morning." She wondered
if you meant "this early"; I said no, but maybe you did mean it in the
American idiom.

The copy of Blackwood's Magazine MAGA for October arrived
yesterday to take it home to study. It was interesting and I thank you,
the article on the Australian outback was particularly interesting. But
I fear I found nothing on Stables in it, or remotely like. Is this
perhaps a different issue?

Your letter of the 8th came this afternoon. You were still
awaiting the arrival of the Volkarts. It is like a suspense serial. I
wait eagerly for the next installment. Did they, didn't they.....?

Thought you might be interested in this new way of getting
to the Cloisters. Worth your trying the next time you are over.

After Christmas I am ordered to start my exercises again.
So far they haven't ordered me to start each day with prune juice. I am
so glad that Senator Thurmond can do more than a 100 pushups. But will
be that enough to satisfy his 22-year old "Moose." She may want
someone who is a little quicker. At any rate I shall try to see how
many I can learn to do. Who knows when it might come in handy.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

15 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

I wondered if I should be able to get to the office to write

you at all, for when we woke this morning it was blowing hard and snowing
and very cold indeed. Fortunately it let up later and I could come down
for a very necessary day of hard work, having been away both Friday and
Saturday. I even brought a peanut butter sandwich to save having to go
out for lunch. I have gotten through an enormous amount of odds and ends.
Bills paid, bank book balanced, letters dictated, papers put away. Life
is not settled but at least the outer appearance of things will be better.
I phoned Horace this late morning and found him in excellent spirits,
almost unusually so I thought. I must remember to keep up these more or
less weekly calls. His chief thoughts are on his autobiography and he
forges ahead with it. Was worried at not hearing from you, but I explained
about the visitors, the manuscript, and the Volkarts. One can't write
everyone.

I think I acknowledged your letter of the 8th, and one from the
9th was waiting for me last night when I returned from New York. They
seem suddenly to come a little slower, perhaps because of the Christmas
flood of mail. And you too are rushed, as I could tell by the double-
spaced letter. I am still troubled that you had to go through all of the
highly emotional strain of going over Elsie's things with the Volkarts.
I am pleased that Frau V gave Ines a little token.

I am sorry not to have written either Friday or Saturday, but
it was quite impossible. Friday morning I had to be in Fairfield, on the
far side of Bridgeport at a quarter to nine. We spent the day going over
progress during the first 2 and 1/2 yrs of their communications program
which we had licensed earlier. But in the end the others agreed with me
that we could not give final and permanent accreditation until they had
at least graduated one person in a program s supposed to take only one year.
I did not get home until past six, having interviewed the president of the
university, the faculty and students. There were six on the committee which
operates on an ad hoc basis for the State of Connecticut. One isn't paid
but I rather feel it my duty to serve when asked. I can't say it's a con-
stant burden since these two sessions are all I have been asked for.

Yesterday I took the 8 a.m. train to New York, grabbing cold cereal
before I left, but sustaining myself on venison stew for lunch. This was the
committee which grants fellowships to foreigners to come to study American
subjects, this half being Japanese, Australian and New Zealanders. Also
grants to universities in those countries. I think my visit last summer
was of some aid, and I could get one grant and several fellowships that might
not otherwise have been granted.

Now I must try to dream up some sort of note to Mr Jackson to stall
him off until I have heard from you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

16 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

It is a little hard to know just why today should seem to
have been so frustrating but indeed it has, perhaps partly because I
began it with a string of errands which delayed really beginning. But
my first act was not altogether bad; it was to post by air a small
package to you but really for Ines as our Christmas present. Susan
thought her ears must certainly be pierced and hence earrings might be
a change. I sent to you to make things easier with customs if such
an emergency arose, and to keep Ines from looking at prices. You can,
if challenged, simply say you intend to get your ears pierced when
things quiet down; the customs will believe anything you say.

Your present balance with the Co-op is a credit of $58.17,
enough to carry you comfortably for some time.

I carry now as my academic banner the advice of a huge
billboard seen on my way back from the Newark Airport: "Carve your
initials on the future. Give to the college of your choice." But
since I have an aversion to carved initials on furniture, trees, or
anything, this seems poor as a goal even for giving.

Then I thought you might be interested in the enclosed xerox
from a rather poor but not uninteresting life of the Compson family,
of which most were college presidents, and Karl won a Nobel Prize for
physics. Our Henty gets, or got, around.

Similarly I thought, if you are at all familiar with student
riots, or have read of San Francisco, a letter from a youngish novelist
who has always been on the far liberal side. I had supper with him and
Kay Boyle when I was in San Francisco.

I had a wonderful flurry of letters from you today, four in
all: 9th, 11th, 12th and 13th. I am glad Elsie's things will now be a
chapter in the past. As of the 9th you were still desperate; having
letters out of order is like re-running movies. * I am deeply touched
and grateful for your generosity as for Christmas. I cannot say otherwise
than it is joyfully received for all of the work at the shore and in town,
plus helping young Susan to buy her house has kept me smaller than my
clothes. And since the spring trip will bring me to you, I am all the
more grateful. I do thank you and bark carols. * I'm glad you left the
Heimatwerk cupboard for the Volkarts. You would find it out of place in
your New Haven flat, I suspect, and too strong as a memory. For them it
will be status and a sure conversation piece for generations; Bruno will
get it eventually if he can live long enough. The Ramuz collection I am
sure you can find a place for, or if you do not sell it might be something
valuable to the London Library as a token of Switzerland. * I do hope the
deBeers do not become a nuisance. * Highjacking apparently gets Cubans
back to Cuba; no one dares protest when a bullet even if missing the object
would put a plane into a tailspin. * No, the tie firmly remains unopened
until Christmas. * American doughnuts are various, and sometimes have cream
or jelly filling. But mostly they are plane batter, circles with a hole in
the middle. They were a part of my youth, but are not so much eaten by
old men like myself who must watch weight.

To night I am being valiant and if Susan's cold is better I

take her to 2001 which she has been longing to see. We would have gone as late
but she was too miserable. I rather dread sitting through it twice,
but of course may like all of it better. I liked only parts before.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

16 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

Like yourself I am overcome by the delayed demands of Christmas posts. I ought to have been able to get the letters and cards out of the way weeks ago, but have been kept too busy to get at them. Now I find myself still in the throes of classes and these other engagements like New York and Texas and Fairfield University. But I daresay the main thing is to write no matter when the letters reach their destination; I answer a good deal of accumulated mail this way, thank for books and offprints and the like.

I am only glad I don't have to answer Swissair, for they have grown suddenly dizzy. Usually they send a large calendar, too large normally for me to use. This years, which you may also have gotten, was particularly elaborate and colorful. Only now I have received _six_ of them, and I wonder how this meets with the Swiss sense of economy. They keep arriving, one by one. I haven't the foggiest notion what to do with them. Mrs H took two, but this is her limit.

Your note of the 14th came this morning, and I solemnly bow to the prospective splendor of your Christmas banqueting at the Escale. Actually it should be rather fun. I shall be much interested to know what you pick up in the way of financial gossip from Ruegg.

Two yellowbacks arrived yesterday and I read this morning at home while eating my breakfast. Susan had taken an 8 o'clock train to New York, and ate on the train. I almost dare not go home, for after she left I turned on the radio to find that an accident between here and New York was delaying the trains an hour. One track, however, was open; I hope for the best, since she was having a permanen t. A very nice note from Consie, I thought; some time it would be pleasant to meet her. * Was glad to read Helen's letter and to find not that she demanded the ms at the beginning of January but only expected it (from what you said) sometime during January. So you need not feel rushed except by personal compulsion. * Was intrigued by Gisele Freund's letter. Did you publish a picture booklet during the Spanish War. I don't think I know it. * I was very glad for the carbon of your reply to Cripps about _Close Up_. * Agnes Latham does seem to have had it so far as her girl friend is concerned. I don't think I'd let a whipper-snapper throw a teacup at me. I should find her incomPATable.

We braved the cold and Susan's flu last night and I took her to _2001_. I liked it rather better than before but found much of the same weakness when viewed critically. The high spot was the attack on the computor. The symbolism of the opening ape scenes seemed rather obvious and even kitsch. Especially because the idea of warfare and killing which it brought out really had nothing to do with the theme of the story itself. The psychodelic color scenes were overlong, and indeed like the 18th century ending appeared to be padding to fill out the picture. Still, there was a verve and fun-making in the fantasies of the ship, and the making of a failm primarily without dialogue was adventurous. The musical score was also well done. Not a great but a good picture, and Susan was pleased to have seen it at last.

One more seminar tomorrow and then the beginning of holidays (work)

18 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

No more classes, with one exception, until February. For which thank God! But there will be plenty to fill the time, and I can imagine the Modern Language Association meeting in December will be exhausting if only because younger faculty members have decided to play at being student rebels. I have just been on long distance phone about their demands to have equal representation on some program about student unrest. A rotten idea of programming to begin with, and why make it worse. But I will explain this in a later letter, the afternoon is ended.

A cable came from Philip that he had clinched the deal with Jackson and sent the money. You must let me know what this amounts to, for you have already given me my Christmas present, and if at all I meant only for you to use English pounds which I could translate into American dollars for your account in Switzerland or in the States. I am quite serious about this, for who knows what really will turn out to be included. I had just written Jackson a letter to check on this as against what his wife had sent to the Grolier Club show and it will at least serve to remind him. I still think, in any event, it was our last chance to add real lace to the center of the Bryher Collection, for Henty is King -- the rest are frequenters of the court. I think you will have to make a special trip over to be with me at the ultimate unpacking.

No letter from you today. I did a little shopping before coming to the office, and tonight and from now on when there are no students I must work at Christmas cards. perhaps I will get half credit for at least mailing them before the 25th.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

19 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

I am still a little dazed by the thought that Mrs Jack son's
memorabilia of her grandfather are now or will be part of the Bryher
Dusty Diamonds. To repeat, I am still not quite sure what it is we
have acquired but I am certain nevertheless that this was a last chance
to trim with any lace. I shall be doubly eager to have you over so
that we can get through the things together.

I began this morning at the dentist's, really for cleaning.
But he found the usual thing or two to be done later, so I return on
the morning of the 30th. Am always glad to get this sort of thing
tidied up.

Your letter of the 15th came this morning. Glad your tea
with the Rueggs turned out pleasantly. He is a good source of informa-
tion and conservative enough to be believed. You spoke of Christmas
being quiet chez Vaud. Here everyone notices it. Merry Christmas,
or even A Good Christmas is said perfunctorily as though no one really
believed it. The world is too much with us, and what a world it seems
to be. Americans find student disturbances, black power, urban unrest,
no elation at the new presidency, inflation in the stock market, prices
skyrocketing, -- all these militate against peace on earth or even good
will toward men. No, America is sombre.

One is glad that your trip to Kenneth is definitely post-
poned. Two days in winter might be fun, hanging one's stocking in that
mysterious padded so-called music room just off the ballroom (it looks
as though intended for tape or murder), a gay dinner and perhaps some
of slay's slides. But as you say, one of the treats of Cetona is the
walk among the paths, over and up the hillside.

You are quite mean, to keep talking about so delicious an
Escale banquet. And yes, you are right, it is far better to order ahead,
both wines and food.

Don't talk about Christmas letters. I have hardly made a dent
in them. Tohtight we have to take a visiting scholar from the University
of Manchester to dinner at the Lawn Club (Susan has a board meeting of
the Colony Historic Society, and so cannot cook; but it does mean we can
drive them back to their lodgings after dinner, and I can return to cards.)

One feels that it may be wise to wish you and Ines a good
Christmas with each letter from now on. And I do. I am only sorry we
can't rub noses.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

20 Dec 1968

Dearest Fido,

Really there is nothing to report on except for an end-
less stream of Christmas cards sent out. The good thing about some
of them at least is that they answer overdue letters, and especially
thank (briefly on the excuse of the greeting card) for books and
offprints that have been sent to me during the summer and after my
return from Australia. I have quite given up any pretence of caring
whether the cards actually arrive before Christmas; people, I think,
are just as happy to have them at any time. At least I like to fancy
so.

And one is pleased to have cards. It was kind of Miss
Scarlett to send, as she did last year. And Joan, Heydt, Robin Carew,
Hilda Quick, and Margery Hicks. I learned that Rose had sold her
house, for which I am glad when I think of the climb up hill. Marie
Ann sent too. So many are my friends because they are yours.

Part of the day, indeed most of it, was spent waiting for
the express man to come with a package from Australia, which has taken
six weeks to reach New Haven from New York. Tracers have been in for
it. Now that it is here it is still unpacked. My heirs will feel
like Henty's, for these things are from New Guinea, and are primitive
art which certainly can't fit at Goodrich Street and so will have to
find a home at the office. Incongruously there too, but it is
decoratively a goulash anyhow.

No letter from you today, and indeed yours lately have been
(if I may say so) somewhat preoccupied. And not just with the visit of
the Volkarts. My hunch, at least relayed to Susan, is that you are
busily at work on the novel again. Whenever you simply don't mention
writing or not being able to get at it, this usually means that you are
chewing away like a beaver. Good chewing to you, only don't feel the
necessity to over-rush. Otherwise the tree will fall down in the wrong
spot, and you cannot even say Oh, dam!

Merry Christmas again to Ines and yourself, if only this
reaches you in time to make such a greeting appropriate. Otherwise,
a Happy New Year!

All love, and a rub under the ear,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

21 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

Another dreary day, with drizzle. Winter begins at
2 o'clock this afternoon; perhaps once it has actually begun it
will think of ending, such is the perversity of weather.

There was no letter from you again today, so I am
completely convinced that you are immersed in <u>Snowflakes</u> again.
If so I know it will be happily so, and how free you will feel
when you are free.

Aspects of Christmas-card giving and the new year
surround me; I still continue to pound out cards, but the casual
ones have been done, and I thank for books at the moment. Each
one accounted for will relieve space on the window behind my desk.
But I have other problems of storage. I think I told you that
Swissair had sent me six of their handsome and huge calendars.
I thought that was plenty. In today's mail, this time all together,
were four more. Making ten in all. Do Swiss addressographs get
drunk? And I imagine these calendars must be expensive to pro-
duce, the color work being excellent.

Urzidil will grieve at the death of his friend Max
Brod, about which I read in the morning's *Times*. Oddly enough I
had a card to him only yesterday, thanking him for the last
pamphlet of his lecture on Jewish writers and German literature,
in which he saved his final and highest praise for Brod. I
praised him for this probably at the moment Brod died.

Your Christmas cable was waiting for me last night
when I returned home. We will put it gayly by the tree, which I
will set up Monday morning. Lizzie wishes to come in that after-
noon and trim it with her mother. Nice that she wants to. She
seems to be holding up, and has been working from time to time
as an extra in a florist's. Better that she should, though tax-
wise she earns just enough to disqualify her for me as a total
dependent. Young Susan will have finished her degree in Public
Health by the end of June, and life should relax somewhat for her

then.
Much skirmishing with Yale and uncertainties with
government funds, but it looks now as though all were cleared for
my going to Japan in the spring of 1970 as I long ago promised to
do. We would set out about February 1st, travel a little en route
to Japan as of late March or early April, and stay in Kyoto. Susan
might I should think come back in June for the shore, when the sultry
heat begins. I have to stay on until the beginning of August, for a
summer session the last two weeks of July/ Maybe if you are free
you'll take the chance to come out via Australia in their good season.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

22 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

This is the most hurried of notes, and not one I really expected
to be able to write at all. For this afternoon we have to go to a two o'clock
wedding, with reception afterwards. This means the afternoon gone, for I cannot
work after champagne. To be married is the daughter of Professor Edmund Morgan,
a Colonial historian at Yale. I think I have given you an occasional book by
him.

Plugging along is all I managed yesterday afternoon, although when
the day was done my undone duties were somewhat smaller. And last night after
we dutifully pinned Christmas cards on burlap cloth covering two walls, I read
drowsily the galley proofs of a collection of Graduation Day talks at W. Ooster
College in Ohio of a now-dead earlier friend of mine, Howard Lowry. He had
been head of the American branch of the Oxford Press when I did the anthology
for them. But what a task to read year after year's expression of the same
occasion. What I found interesting I could not really put into the blurb they
wanted:--- when he began he sounded like a Christian evangelist, as befitted
the strong religious pull just after W.W. Two, especially in a denominational
college like Wooster. But then he tapered off and became general and secular.
Still, I managed something even though I wouldn't swear to have memorized
every word of counsel in the collection.

I'm pretty well done now, except that nothing has ever been written
to Australia. I'll start that after the New Year's, I guess. Perhaps they will
understand and forgive me my rudeness.

Up this morning and off to the shore to take the Christmas cheques
to the caretaker and some presents to the Hoblizelles, Susan's sister who now
lives by the sea where the big house used to be. That at least is done.

Quite as a sudden rush to the head, when I wrote Philip Frere yesterday I suggested the possibility that when we were en route to you next spring after Madrid, that you might meet us in Nice and the three of us could drive up for lunch to see his chateau. This might make sense, and give the three of us a chance to have tea with Romaine at the same time. Two days at the most would do it. You really should see the showplace and this would mean you could do so without having to stay for too long a time. What do you think?

All love & hate for the new year

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

23 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

So much mail and so many interruptions and late-comings that I have only now finished going through it late in the afternoon. Alas, I was much dashed by the fact that there was only one more Swissair calendar today. Granted that this makes eleven altogether but I had had my heart set on a dozen by Christmas, and, say, fifteen by the New Year. Swissair should be grateful to me; not wishing to have them go to waste, I stop people on the street and ask if they wish a copy. Think how widely Swissair will be known!

But I was not disappointed in my letters from you-- five altogether: 16th, 17, 18th, 19th, and 20th. I can't tell you how relieved I am to have the furniture gone, along with the rest of Elsie's things. I can understand why the event was emotionally disturbing to you. For Ines I suspect it awakened the old rivalry with Elsie as well as made the end of the line seem nearer. I smiled at your grabby neighbor who wanted her services. Did I tell you how the household of the Queen of the Netherlands, when I lived at Chester Square Mews, and the Queen's backside was next to my front, tried through her equerry to hire my Alice away? This was repeated several times until I had to protest through the Dutch Intelligence Service. * I suppose I should now write another letter to Mr Jackson, although he may well answer my last which listed what ought to be included. I am particularly grateful to Philip for arranging about the transportation. * And I blush, because yes of course the Stables article is in the issue you had sent me. My eye passed over it perhaps because I thought I was to read about the sea, as in most of his novels. I do apologize, and thank you again. * "Thus early in the morning" did not sound particularly strange to me, even though not usually used by Americans. But there can be no confusion. Some of the other queries were much more important. Typing on this side has stopped until the answers come in. Probably no changes, but easier to ask now than later. * The cheque from Fides reached me this morning, for which of course my infinite thanks. The thought of seeing you is, however, the substance. * Your luncheon chez Escale seemed to have gone off well. Congratulations as hostess! * The local papers on Sunday had an article about Christmas cards in the London *Times* ads; saying how many took jibes at the post. It mentioned particularly similar announcements on the court calendar page, telling how much more they cost there. You are avant garde in keeping these for posterity. * Will see that a copy of *Oil and Water* goes to Ethel. * Communications has to do with verbal and iconographic presentation of ideas: advertising, the media in general, press agentry, etc. How does one give a ghetto child the idea of white altruism, etc. It is rather gimmicky, and the Yales do little with this sort of training.

Last night in mid-evening Susan suddenly discovered that it was snowing, and I was glad that I had put the Christmas tree in the garage against just such a contingency. My car was left outside, but the snow washed it cleaner than it has been. This morning we mounted the tree in its stand and brought it into the re-arranged living room. Lizzie was to come this afternoon to decorate it with her mother. I began otherwise by taking the dressing-table stool (I had had made from a piano stool) to the cabinet makers for repairs, where my secretary reached me to say I had an appointment

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 H G S

a half hour earlier with Dr Swift for my pricks. I went anyway and of
course had to wait a half hour since I had missed my turn. But worth
to wait since he honored me by giving me the new Hong Kong flu shot as
well as that for common colds. He had had only six last week, and these
were reserved (he told Susan) for the elderly. Fortunately I qualified.
I feel as though I should wear a little badge of triumph on my lapel. No
sooner was I back at the office then I was met by the young Japanese who
has had so many difficulties. This time his mother has been operated on
for stomach trouble and cancer been found. He was to have gone home in
mid-January, now he wants to go home on the first. So I had to phone
New York and arrange with the agency there to cable Tokyo for his ticket
money etc. This is all now in order, though it took time again in the
afternoon. Then I had to make arrangements for musical mss to come to
Yale, a situation in which I had become strangely involved and apparently
essentially so. And a woman from the University of California at Los
Angeles I had to take to lunch since she had written ahead at the suggestion
of a friend to ask if she could see me. I thought she had some questions,
but alas it was only social. My life is almost too short for that sort
of thing these days and daze.

I enclose a photograph from yesterday's press which intrigued me
by its juxtaposition of duck and rocket. What an extraordinary voyage
this is, but somehow a little socially blasphemous for Christmas Eve,
taking the occasion over for propaganda almost as though we showed Mary had
had American citizenship.

And oh that stack of cards which has come in today!' Almost
every one from a person not sent to, who will be hurt if they get nothing
at least dated before Christmas.

I hope you recover,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

I have been jumping about like mad all day, dictating
during the morning when Mrs Hamerman was here, going to the bank
after lunch, delivering a bundle or two, and then mostly preparing
for my departure early Thursday morning for New York, the meetings
of the Modern Language Association, the American Historical Association,
and the American Studies Association which combines annual meetings
with each of them. I come back Sunday noon or late morning, this
being Susan's birthday (on the 29th) and the least I can do is to dine
with her at night.

We were saddened this morning to read in the paper of the
death of Jim Osborn's wife. He is the important collector of Elizabethan
material who lives in New Haven and is associated with Yale. We have
known them for many years. You have met them with us at least twice on
the street in London. She has always been pretty much of an invalid
but just what this last situation was I don't know.

More cheering I suppose is the circumnavigation of the
moon by the astronauts. Somehow I have been too involved in petty
details to have the leisure to have caught the excitement or even the
awe. Yet of course it is a superb achievement of skill both human
and mechanical, and one realises how much closer some parts of <u>2001</u>
come to us. I enclose the photograph I forgot yesterday.

I have read the article on Gordon Stables and am most
grateful to you for sending it. I think the author writes very well.
She has an eye for the amusing detail, and makes him come alive with-
out coming ridiculous. But the old doctor seems to have been success-
ful. Presumably it was less expensive to keep a parrot and dog than
a wife and child.

Another year almost gone, frighteningly. But at any rate,
one hopes to hail it and farewell Kenwin.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

26 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

I decided to take a late morning train to New York in
stead of the 9 o'clock, and so have come to the office to put a few
last-minute things together for the ASA meetings in New York. So
at least you get a properly typed one instead of having to work thru
my script.

No letter from you this morning so I shall have to wait
until Sunday when I return from New York, if I have time to stop at
the office, or Monday when I report in to work again.

I go to New York wearing your Christmas tie, which I
opened yesterday at the tree. It is handsome and I thank you for it,
as for so much else you have done during the year to enable me to get
through it. Our Christmas was pleasant, and although with an inter-lude
while the children were taken to the train for New York and their
father. He still has no job nor apparently wants one, lives with his
mother who does all for him while he tries to write a book on French
architecture about which he doesn't know enough; anyhow writing was
always his problem and delayed his degree. An unhappy career.

Alas, my Hong Kong shot seemed to take a little effect
yesterday, or perhaps it was the bills I took to combat it. For I felt
woozy all day, had a nap during the morning interlude and slept almost
two hours during the afternoon. Fortunately I feel much better today.
Alas, in any event I must go to the meeting, since they depend on my
presence as well as my room for meetings.

I had several books, including a biography of O'Neill from
the Schaffners, a gray cashmere sweater for wearing under a jacket from
Susan. Also an electric carving set, since the one we had had no longer
works. And, oh yes, perhaps best of all a fine new tie rack so that
at last there will be room for all my Griddess.

Will try to get off a note or two from New York, but can
promise nothing at meetings of this sort.

Keep well, all love

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

30 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

I still feel somewhat disheveled after my three days in New York. Meetings attended by 12,000 are hectic to say the least. This year they were made more so by confrontations with younger teachers who call themselves the Radical Front. I don't think they are quite sure what they want except to be seen, or what to say except to be heard. This time the chief focus, however, was to prevent next year's convention from being held in Chicago because of the police demonstrations last summer. Brutalities I guess is a better word than demonstrations. Eventually I will send you a clipping from the *Times* about all that went on. I had to go to another joint meeting of ASA with the American Historical Society, at the Hilton opposite the old Penn Station. Only 6,000 at this meeting. I think I've had it so far as conventions are concerned. This one was my swan song as president of the ASA, though I have to continue ex officio on a committee or two for next year.

I came back yesterday noon. Susan was delighted with her cable from you. It was the first thing she spoke of when I called her from New York in the morning. We did nothing except watch a football game in the afternoon, and then briefly to a cocktail party, and on the Martzes for supper with their family. One talked afterwards, though I think Susan had rather hoped for bridge.

I make beginning efforts to clear my desk again. Sent along the bank draft to Margaret Pratt for her t.v. and at least got that off. Two yellowbacks came from you. Urzidel's schedules when he goes on a lecture tour make any of mine look like lazy summer afternoons in a canoe by comparison. * Sylva Norman's letter was sensible. If she has a warm flat I suspect it is very much better for her to sit put for the winter. * Your Consie really does have an impressive collection of pro jacentute stamps. I wonder if one can buy used sets of those from 1958-68. I imagine even these would be quite dear. * I always like Lotte R's letters. She seems to me to keep at it in an entirely admirable way. * Clara's two boys are really happier as students than anything else, it seems. I am much impressed by applied linguistics as seen from the angle of musical interpretation, though I'm not quite clear where or how it gets applied. I gather he intends to continue in this sort of post doctoral study in the States. * Marianne's note was touching, starting it as she did on the wrong page, putting on the extra stamp when it wasn't necessary. But she does have a good time in life, and how few do. * I had never quite known what Joanna Gregory did do; I had thought it was with a museum rather than one of the government's welfare programs. But I know these pay very well, or at least did. One suspects less money will go into them; on the other hand the demands for money will certainly increase. * I like to think of Gretchen and her friend "going out" for a party in the same hotel. Do you think you really would like life at the Grand. Scrabble and bridge. *But the two prize letters are from Silvia Dobson and Lethbridge. S.D. deserves

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN.

for her $2.00 sleep in her caravan at the pier. She is an absolute
dandy, and the British woman at her best. No American would dare it.
And as for T.L. I don't know whether or not he is accurate in his
pendulum swinging but he does it with such aplomb that I am always
convinced, or bewitched, when I read the letters.

And oh yes just arrived is O.B.'s first book I believe, as of
1934, DEATH ON THE SWIM, by 'Simon'. An inscribed copy to Sheila Lahr
because of Charles Lahr whoever they were. I saw it advertised and
thought it should be added to your collection of his work. One must
ask him about it sometime.

I waited until this afternoon to write in the hope of a
letter today, perhaps in the late mail. There was. Of the 23rd, with
a splendid envelope of Times clips in it which I shall save for tonight.
The Stein airmail article was nothing in particular, I send airmail
only because otherwise things take so intolerably long. Glad to learn
you are back at Snowflakes. Helen said only she supposed you would
get the ms to her sometime in January. We will finish up typing what
we have when you send corrections or orders to stet. Until then nothing
can be done, alas. And since I gather there is a solid week of no
collections or deliveries in Switzerland we will all have a little holi-
day too.

I drove down to the office after my return to check on this
morning's dentist appointment, which turned out to be at 8:30. I went but
he didn't turn up until almost nine. Fortunately I had a book mit. But
I did find yesterday a little trove that had accumulated during my absence.
One of the 21st, 22nd, and 23rd. But these could have piled up on Friday
and Saturday. Am glad the Ines package arrived. I hope it was all right;
if she doesn't like them you can send them back and we can change. The
funds did get over as you now have known. * If Simon doesn't have a quick
answer on the Ramuz collection it would be much better to return to Hans
than to have him think you didn't get as much for it as it was worth etc.
And you can't turn into a bookscout for him. * Glad Ines had her Livet.
Also glad Marie Anne took her dog to be "inovulated" against the new
disease. You speak of doing the same for Tiger but isn't it too late for
her? Why not save the books you gave Elsie on this side; you might find
you someday would like to reinscribe them to Elizabeth or someone in Pup's
family.

I weep but simply could not write during the days in New York.
I have never seen anything so hectic, and on Saturday had only breakfast--
no luncheon nor dinner either. I missed the excitement of the astronaut
landing and now look forward to some full presentation on tv of their trip.
The color photos of the moon etc are said to be splendid. It was certainly
an act of braveyy as well as incomparable mechanical skill. I cannot quite
comprehend it.

Alas poor Susan began to come down with a cold last night--
a poor sort of birthday present. Today she is feeling wretched, and we have
her cousin and family New Year's Eve and all my Japanese New Year's Day.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

31 December 1968

Dearest Fido,

And so the year ends, which would have been a dreadful year to remember if it were not for your love and your kindness. The more outrageous public affairs become, the more vitally basic certain human relationships remain. For all of which I thank you.

There was no letter from you today, and I suspect from the Swiss schedule of posts you wrote about, there will be a lapse of several days before anything comes. Sad, because I used to hear about your Christmas before New Year's intervened. Actually I will probably not come to the office tomorrow but clean up from our guests for tonight and prepare for our guests of tomorrow afternoon. So there may be another gap in letters to you as well.

A yellowback did arrive, however, so I was not bereft. Marianne's letter was more orderly, and I surmise was typed by an amanuensis. * I liked the ecobnomy (in time) and good sense of the I.A.Richards's xeroxed card. Having kept on sending them even today, to Japs and Germans (why not use mine up in reply to theirs) I can only applaud her. * Harsh luck for Gough and his kidney stones. So far I have been lucky. I imagine his years in Turkey and on dogs have not helped. * I was interested in Chester's confirmation of the sale of Marianne's papers to the Rosenbach Foundation in Philadelphia. I think I told you correctly that the prize was $112,000. The Foundation is the memorial to the famous bookseller and is housed in a private home on a street in the old residential section. I'm not sure whether or not university collections are "coldly impersonal" as your Chester states, but I have discovered that students and scholars visit refrigerators more often than they do conservatories, and that in terms of a writer's reputation it is better to be alongside vast resources of books and interlocking collections of manuscripts than to be "along with the manuscript of Ulysses." But the $112,000 does make me happy and I am sure she must be pleased. It makes me happy because this will prove to Marianne that she was a success. * The letter from Hildegarded was most interesting. I think you will want to pay her a quick visit some time when you are over, either with me or perhaps with Pup. Pup might like a quickie and the chance to meet another relative. It is important I think for her to feel a part of a family, and she has been good with the widowed-aunt-in-law. * I was rather sorry that Robin would not go over to Oonagh for the christening. One can't put all one's loyalties in one grave, for he owes something to the daughter and grandchild as well. Or so I think, in terms of a good soldier. But it is wonderful how freely he expresses his real indebtedness to Petrie. She and Carew Castles are what count, I fear. * Poor Helen, what a time she has been having. She did not send greetings this year, though I did write her.

The most extraordinary card came from the Brigadier, a beautiful one with a long letter inside dated Nov 14th. Since it came today I did not quite, I fear, believe him, and looked on the envelope to find the cancellation was Nov 14th also. This must be some sort of record even for the British post.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

2 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

My first letter of the new year to you! I hope 1969 will be happier for you than last year was. For all of us, indeed. In any event it begins well for me with a stack of letters from you. The 2nd of the 24th (I am not sure whether I got the 1st), Christmas Day, the 26th and 28th. I shall be able to wait patiently until the tap runs again after the 1st. I like to think of you as a Fido-Santa with your bottles of rum for distribution. I must take Marie Anne a bottle myself the next time, and then claim my ration at the consulate. The Majesty of Great Britain and I could totter together. * I am glad Mme Moret has found something, if only because any responsibility for her is lifted from your shoulders when the move comes. I only hope that Ines can somehow manage without her. If we should be in Kenwin rather than a hotel the next time, we can easily cope for ourselves with beds and dusters. * The Weimar book had good reviews; I could not quite tell what it was like from a hasty glance, but it touches your period in Berlin. Gay is joining the Yale faculty here next year; scholars think highly of him. And I hope the transvestite cowboy book amused you. I hadn't realised that one cross-dressed as well as cross-dressed-Rockied. * And we are pleased if Ines did like the earrings. She will look so dashing that she will get a Jesuit as lover. * And am glad you phoned Robin. I was really sorry he would not go to Oonagh for the christening; this seemed a little hard on her; one cannot reject a child and grandchild altogether. He is after all a soldier. * Innes's story is touching; how much at least a few people make out of their lives--out of lives which might have meant nothing. I am put to shame. His friendship is as great a gift to you as his orchids, although in the orchids of course he gives what is dearest to himself and most his own. * Yes, turkey is not for two; chicken is. And turkey never really has the taste that a good chicken has, nor can one do such culinary miracles. Turkey are big breasted for long tables, an economy rather than a luxury. You ate properly. * And what a marvelous way to spend Christmas Day, revelling in flagellation. Only you got your day wrong; flagellation goes with the heilige Nikolaus and his switches for bad boys and girls. I would never really have made good at a public school in England, for I should have been regarded as a pervert by masters and schoolmates alike because of my disinterest in birchings. I know this is a taste not at all unknown on the continent but surely never so highly developed as in the best British circles. But Swinburne made a wonderful boy even in his old age, while I will never know what I have missed. How would it be, some day, if you lay face down on your bed, covered only with the Henty pennant to protect you while I flagellated you? This would be to compound your ecstasy and make a splendid paragraph or two in your next volume of memoirs. Indeed it would make a splendid climax in every way, even for a girl who thought she had everything.

Perhaps I should read a copy of the Swinburne book so that I
can cram up.

How sad that Rosemary should have a boyfriend of just this order,
for he sounds strangely unsuited for her on any long run. One fears, in fact,
that he would indeed run out on her, perhaps with his pockets full.

A letter from Philip came also today, with the acceptance by
Jackson of the offer and a remark by him about the cheque which delighted Philip,
"Many thanks for the letter and the cheque for £1200. I sure needed it." He

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

sent a copy of the letter to you at the same time. Quite by chance in the
same post came an extraordinary envelope piled full of letters apparently
all written to me over the past few years from Isobel Allantyne, the daughter
of the great man. There was a clipping about her in it and I thought she must
have died. But they seem to be apologies (repeated but never sent) for not
writing, and one wonders what they will mount up to. I was so busy with duties
that I could not properly absorb it and put the pile aside to decipher at home
tonight.

My Japanese protege flies back tomorrow to Tokyo where his father is
in the hospital with heart trouble and his mother has just had her stomach
removed because of cancer. I read the one chapter he has written, took him
to Mory's for a farewell lunch, went over the chapter there, and presented
him with an inexpensive Hawthorne signature. He seemed pleased.

New Year's Eve was pleasant. As I told you, Susan's Charleston
cousin came with her doctor husband and daughter who is a nurse now in New
Haven. Dr Wilson; we went to dinner at their home and had gray pigeons he
had shot. He is rather a heavy drinker in a sportsman's way and I wondered
if I could keep up with him to welcome the new year in. Fortunately I did,
and enough to wash the dishes and clear up the table afterwards. We were not
in bed until two a.m., but at least we didn't have to waken to dirty sinksful.

New Year's afternoon we gave the usual party for the Japanese here
more or less under my protection (not all the Japanese at Yale by a long shot.)
Counting wives and children, and the Hamersmans and their two sons, there
must have been about twenty in all. I had asked them for 4-5:30, but alas
the first four guests arrived at 3:30 before the table was set. So I was host
while Susan made the punch etc. Fortunately there is nothing a Japanese likes
better or considers a greater honor than to be shown around the house--upstairs,
downstairs and in my lady's chamber. So I did that repeatedly. Poor Susan
has had a relapse of her flu, not badly but exhaustingly. She did well to get
through the day. I fancy she will be tired tonight, and tomorrow night we
have to entertain the Bochman Prize Committee for Poetry. There is a dinner
for the Committee at the Lawn Club and we take them on afterwards. My guess
is that John Berryman will get the prize this year but I am often wrong. I do
not vote, and am simply on the arrangement committee that runs the show.

It has been bitterly cold with high winds almost to knock one over.
I stay primly in doors.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

2731 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN-CONN
06520

3 January 1969

Dearest Fodo,

I must say that accomplishment at the desk is fine to contemplate but doesn't give much to write home about. I really have managed to plug away so that my desk begins to look better, not quite well but an immense improvement. Perhaps with a good day tomorrow something really will have been accomplished.

I did nothing last night but wash the dishes, read and go to bed early. Which is perhaps why I had the strength for today. Which I began by having my hair washed, and while I waited my turn I read some offprints that had been sent me as a background for a Guggenheim application I must get at tomorrow. And then the letters dictated. Seven tapes so far, and I will use up the remainder tomorrow if I am lucky. She will simply never get them done, but I shall not have to worry about having Mrs H idle.

Lunch this noon with John Pope who wailed that he never had time to read anything except the new books on Old English. While you can't get enough of them!

Bitterly cold today, for me, being in the low twenties, with occasional spurries of snow. The same is predicted for the next few days, in one of the coldest and snowiest early winters we have had for some time.

Nothing in the mail from you today, but late Christmas cards keep coming in, especially from those we didn't send to. Posted after Christmas to me, too. But in all the flurry of late afternoon yesterday, I quite forgot the registered yellowback I had put so carefully aside yesterday afternoon so it could not possibly be lost. I think the Gide letter is a dandy. And if no one collects him, the prices are lower and all the better chance to build up a little group of them. For ten letters of anyone are twenty times better than one or two. Gide is simply going through that moment when one ceases to be contemporary and has not yet become literary history. More power to you in your Gide collecting! Thanks too for the letter from Marya. I am so glad she too liked Vaud; your most literary friends all do. I must say I had not noticed an increase in table-tapping etc., certainly not half so much going on as when Hilda and Tom Eliot and the others went to London before WWI. But in times of war people often turn to the supernatural. Myth and its study, too, has helped. I take it as a compliment that so many want to know what happened to your characters. This means they're real to them. I like them, feel intimately connected with them, and then say hi as they pass on towards something else. Your reply was excellent. Something for the archives.

Hope your long holiday has not been too grievous and that there is still food in the larder. You will be out at dawn in a sleigh on Monday to replenish.

Keep warm,

from Philip about the Jackson-Henty sale.
Susan suffers from her flu, which will not leave her. We began the day by moving out the
Christmas tree. Last night we took down the cards. Tonight alas we have to entertain the
Bollingen Prize committee after dinner. But I have at least hired a maid to help.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

3 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

I am disconsolate. Not even one Swissair calendar in today's
post. Should I protest?

But there were yours of the 29th and 30th so that I have ab-
solutely no protest against my Swisskennel.

All of the mixup in sequence is, I am sure, because of the
Christmas mail. Mine comes most irregularly, though the Brigadier's 14 Nov-
31 December wins the prize. I am sorry about your ice. We have been threat-
ened with it, and are said to be having heavy snows tomorrow night. So far
we have escaped, particularly fortunately on New Year's Eve with so much
drinking. Wipf must have felt very triumphant indeed with her chicken,--
better even than a St Bernard, especially since you fedther the brandy
rather than she bringing it to you in a little barrel under her head. I
suspect there is not much one can do about her situation. Sir Gavin would
simply be bewildered if one explained, and I don't think he pays much
attention to what is said to him.

Christmas mail? It still haunts me, and like yourself I fear to
offend people by my silence. *** But I am glad you like the possibility of
Romaine cum Philip. I must go to make preliminary arrangements but will leave
the end open so that one can go either direct to Geneva or to Nice.

You had not asked me for Bridenbaugh's book. I will have it sent to
you. Better there for winter reading. Something new will be published for
your welcome to the States.

A yellowback with your letters to Elsie in it. I am glad you saved.
Many thanks.

And a letter from Horace thanking for his first of the year check.
He seems in excellent spirits.

But oh what a difficult job I had last night trying to decipher
the two letters from Ballantyne's daughter Isobel, aetat 82 so an enclosed
newspaper clipping says. One fifteen-page letter (unfinished) was written
in Nov 1966 but never sent. Now it comes with a 2-page letter as of December
4th. She reminds me a little of Mrs Jackson in the sense that she opens up to
anyohe who knew the great man. Her father was 63 and her mother 21 when they
married, which accounts for her presence. I became so confused by the detailed
account of her woes, and would need a genealogy to straighten everything out.
I think I save on this side for you to read, and in any event an answer is re-
quired. A large majority of people I gather are crooks, or crooks with nice
wives. Men she doesn't much care for her, except that her husband (who had
faults) was a distinguished cricketer, bowler, tennis player, etc. One daughter
has a nice illegetimate child but has or had a girlfriend she preferred to the
only begetter. A certain number of men are feeble-minded or not-all-there (though,
as she says, you wouldn't know it really). Someone else married a German P.O.W.
and has had rather a difficult time of it. I rather think this is the one she
lives with. Quayle is a wonder, and wants to keep the things of her father always
together, isn't really interested in money. Her father managed through the
strength he derived from God, and from daily prayer. God bless him!

And where did I get all the Ballantyne manuscripts? She must have
been reading Quayle's bibliography where he refers to my having them. And would
I like a photograph of her father?

Odd that this should come the same day and mail as the confirmation

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

4 January 1968

Dearest Fido,

A very scrappy day at the office, by which I mean I have accomplished only scraps. Still, they mount up. Bills paid, two tapes of letters dictated against tomorrow, a few things filed. One hopes for some achievement. Yesterday I finished the chapter of the dissertation being done by the young Norwegian. Today I had hoped to go over the study of Hilda's *Freud* submitted for the *Wisconsin* journal, also the checklist (he calls it bibliography) of her writings for the same issue.

I started late, however, which was a handicap. The party chez nous, after the dinner last night went on much later than I expected. Louise Bogan simply did not want to go back to the hotel, and so that kept the Richard Wilburs and Max Rosenthal too. The other guests managed to slip away. It was a great help to have the maid, but there was still much clearing up to do, and by this time Susan's cold was worse again, and kept bad this morning. I would have had the doctor come, even against her inclinations, but he turned out to be away for the weekend. There is no point getting in a substitute for such a malady. One trouble for poor Susan of course is the amount of drugs she has had to take.

There was no letter from you today, but I have done well lately and so have no complaint. I will be suffering the New Year hiatus. A yellowback came yesterday--no I spoke of it, thinking it was only Elsie's letters. I read them all and found much more besides; although what a nice letter Marianne wrote Elsie!

At noon one was to have lunched with the Bollingen Committee after they had reached conclusion in their rented house. We lunched but they had concluded nothing. Rosenthal whispered that he wanted to resign, that he could not associate himself with the choice of two such conservatives. Bland Wilbur only smiled, and Louise Bogan had her Irish up. In mid-afternoon I was phoned to say the prize had been divided between Berryman and Karl Shapiro. I can only imagine that it was Bogan and Wilbur who chose Shapiro. I certainly should not have done so, and am always against split prizes. They cancel each other out it always seems to me. And the prize was raised to $5,000.00 in order to make it bigger than two $2,500.00 Berryman does seem to me to be so much the better. Anyhow I was saved the torment of opposition to anyone, and since the award was decided on only after luncheon did not have to put on a face to meet their faces.

This afternoon I go to Holly Stevens' for cocktails (Wallace Stevens' daughter) but Susan has wisely decided to stay home and rest. She has at last found a young girl who will come in three hours on a Saturday to dust. I wish it were for longer.

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

5 January 1968

Dearest Fido,

A quiet Sunday in the office, with the only interruption a phone
call from the regional New York Times man, who wanted to borrow copies of the
books which won the Bollingen this year for Barryman and Shapiro. A nice young
man whom I knew as an undergraduate (when he was, that is). He published poetry
broadside, mimeographed for a penny each. Then ten cents each. I owned Berry-
man's but not Shapiro's, but managed to pull out enough anthologies for him to
quote from. As I said, and he agreed, in an announcement of this sort one wants
to read only poems one knows already, thus proving one to be "in." He had spoken
on the phone last night with Berryman in Minneapolis. Berryman, when asked,
said he was very happy at the award but found it odd to be linked with Shapiro
whose poetry he cared little for. I think I agree with him, though Shapiro has
in fact written several good poems, but mostly some time since. I found a quotation
from Louise Bogan's book to show how she had long been long on Shapiro's poems;
and she having just published a collected poems, and Wilbur about to publish one
in March, both (I think) felt that collected poems (as a species) should receive
respect. I favor helping the young.

I went very briefly to Holly Stevens' party, arriving at 5:30 as the
second guest, and leaving sharply at six, having had one tall glass of ginger ale.
It was all I needed, preferring to have a glass with Susan at home.

With what was left of the morning after the Times man withdrew, I
made cards for the dusty diamonds that had been stacked on the floor, took half
of the books home with me at noon, and the other half are already in the car to
go back tonight. Not much of an achievement, but the room looks considerably
tidier. In that corner, along that wall, at least. And the disorder had been
highly visible.

Very cold still, about 20F, but fortunately no wind.

As an escape fan you might be interested in the enclosed clipping.
Don't return. Rowe seems to me to be a fine old-fashioned type of hero, an army
man who is loyal in a restrained way. And brave. I admire the way he handled
himself both in prison and with the newspaper reporters. Both took courage. I
think he could write a very good book. Helen should be after him.

I had not a peep out of Helen this Christmas. But I gather from her
letters to you that nothing is wrong. I think she has to conserve her time, as
who of us ought not to.

He drove in
from
Stockbridge
A few

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Dearest Fido,

6 January 1968

Most of yesterday was a quiet day, as when I wrote you. For a few
minutes after lunch I watched a football game--professionals playing
in Florida where it was raining. And then back to an afternoon at
the office where I was almost proud of the way my desk looked at the
end.

But then there began to be dramatics. I went home to get there about
six-thirty. Susan was preparing dinner when suddenly she began to get
severe pains in her abdomen, terrifying ones to her, like those she had
had when her appendix nearly burst many years ago. The doctor was not
yet back from a weekend, but did come in a little before eight. Much
worried he arranged for her to go as emergency to the hospital, got a
surgeon to go to meet her there, and so when she dressed --off we went.
They took x-rays and could find nothing, but she was put on intra-venous
feedings -- no liquid nor food through the mouth. Was punched and
prodded. And finally enema-ed after I left at 10. This morning there
was still pain and she was x-rayed again. But my late noon when I went
down again (I had gone at breakfast time to take her her thyroid pills)
she was feeling better. The doctor said she might possibly go home
tonight, but I argued for her staying over this night too. It takes
the burden of responsibility off my shoulders, for how can I diagnose.
The doctor said also it would permit them to increase her food intake
(she had been allowed some tea and at lunch some chicken broth) to see
how she reacted to this. And that if all went well she could go home
tomorrow sometime. I hope so for her sake, though today she has been
so drugged that she chiefly dozes. Part of it I hope was that she was
simply exhausted by all the entertaining while she was unwell; part of
it was being unwell to begin with, and having taken too many pills over
too long a time. And it doesn't now look as though it were a twist in
the intestines or a cancer, which of course what all feared.

But as you can guess, my mind has been rather occupied. I had to go back
to the house and stay until the refuse man came to collect the souvenirs
of Christmas. He arrived at 12:30, and I'm not sure we would have had room
for anything if he hadn't, or I hadn't been there to let him in. Otherwise
we would have had to wait for another fortnight. Even now a balancing act
was necessary when I added the contents of another wastebasket.

At least the lecture I was supposed to give Wednesday night at Southern
Connecticut State College has been postponed a week. So maybe I can pre-
pare it.

No letter from you today or Saturday alas. The New Year's caesura,--the
Swiss caesura, that is, accounts for silence.

NORMAN

HOLMES

PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY

NEW HAVEN · CONN

8 January 1968

Dearest Fido,

Life was simply too complicated yesterday for me to write. I'm sorry. No disasters anyhow. At 11 a.m. I was phoned from the hospital that Susan was ready to be discharged, so I first fetched my car and then fetched her. It took a bit of time of course to get her red discharge ticket from the hospital cashier, but I was delighted and considerably surprised to find that thanks to my new health insurance I had only to pay the difference between a semi-private and a private room for two days. X-rays, drugs, intravenous feeding, and nursing was in addition; and, mirabile dictu, the difference totaled for both days was $17.94. I had taken a check expecting to pay over $100.00. The real bill must have been $180.00 at the least. I will follow up on this, if only to renew my sense of good fortune.

Susan was tired of course, but got through a day indoors well enough. Only last night when she went to bed to broke into a seizure of coughing which didn't stop and didn't stop. Finally I persuaded her to take a sleeping pill, as an anaesthetizer for her throat muscles, and moved myself into the bed where you sleep so that she wouldn't be nervous about keeping me awake. By the time all was settled it was well into the morning and I have been somewhat exhausted all day.

I began today by taking the Oldsmobile to the garage for its long overdue checkup. Now, hoepfully, all is in order for a while longer. We had been threatened with a snowstorm, but very little came last night. More is said to arrive tomorrow. It is bitterly cold, and a wind blows. We have had a fire in the fireplace last night, and will again tonight I hope.

This afternoon I met with the "awthorne seminar for the last time. It was fun to teach Hawthorne after all these years, and good for me to reread him after all these years. I have been more involved with his life than his works.

Yesterday came three letters to break the drought. #1st, 1st and 2nd. The deBees have been much with you. I hope it does not drag, although it is often pleasant to know one is needed. Today's mail brought a Christmas card from them. A postcard stamped with their name and address. *I was pleased to hear that the Clarendon Press are doing the translation of fht Carmen. (Somehow I always think of Bizet whenever I read your reference to so learned a work. This is the highest honor and a true accolade. But to skip to a letter from you that came today, since I probably can't finish all tonight, I beg on bended knees, take all that I have, whip me, do anything but do not permit yourself to get involved with Kate. She would be your Miss Salter, your David, your asp. Just as she moved in on Hope Munnz for the reputation involved she would move up and in on you for other reasons than purely yourself. It almost frightens me to hear of the suggestion on her part. I tremble so I cannot touch the keys. Seriously, you must not. And I know, knowing you, that you are much too canny a being. * I did know something about the fift between Oonagh and Petrie, from what you confided in me. And although I greatly admired Petrie and really felt a strong affection for her which I

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

9 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

We are daily threatened with heavy snows; it stays dark but fortunately neither snow nor rain comes in any quantity, though there is snow on the ground and I lift my feet high.

I slog more at my desk than on the street. But I have finished going over both Norman Holland's study of the *Tribute to Freud* and Prof. Bryer's bibliography. The first has been returned; the second will go tomorrow. Holland is very set on the fact that Hilda's obsession was to reconcile herself with her mother, and I got rather mixed up as to her wanting to take her brother's place as her mother's favorite, and as such be getting her father, or simply plain penis envy. Well, you will see it all when it is in print. Maybe Hilda had penis envy, perhaps all women do at flashes of time, but that never struck me as her particular orientation, and when she wanted a penis it was from someone other than herself. The checklist by Bryer is helpful but seemed rather sketchy to me. No reviews, for example. But I checked on the list of books published by her separately and pretty much let it go at that, suggesting that he call it "a preliminary checklist." This we did for the first appearance of a bibliography of Pound, and it worked well. Had Professor Bryer come here I could have given him the material to work on, but I simply cannot do it all for him. Least of all every reappearance of a poem in an anthology. But I have dictated a letter to him on the tape for Mrs H to take off tomorrow, so that too can go in the mail.

My best achievement, which had to be finished by tomorrow, was to complete the program for a day on Australia, at the Alumni seminars next June. What bad luck to be saddled with having to put the thing together, particularly so because there aren't many who know the subject. The seminars go for five days, (no, four) with one topic each day. Actually many of them have been good. This one will begin with an hour on history, from colony to nation. The second on political activity in Australia today (by a visiting Australian professor whose specialty this is), an early afternoon talk on Australian foreign policy by an American expert on the subject, and then I agreed to give a talk on Australia and the arts. There is an open forum and question period at night after dinner. I don't remember what the other three topics are, but one I recall is on archaeology. Better come over. The second week in June.

This noon I lunched with Paul Horgan who had come down from Wesleyan. He presented me with his new novel, which now I shall have to read. Susan in any event will welcome it while she continues to recover. She still whoops her cough, but one hopes this will eventually abate. I continue to inhabit your bedroom.

A yellowback arrived yesterday, posted by you on November 20th. Mostly pre-Christmas letters trying to reach you before your announced departure. But the most interesting one to me was from Wipt about her talk with Sir Gavin on their residence in Switzerland. I found it very moving, and

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

could understand all the more how very much you mean to her. In her devotion
to and absorption in Sir Gavin she reminds me of Dorothy Richards. But
Mrs Richards has her own strength, her own friends, her own poise. Wipt,
doesn't quite have the same self-reliance. DR Godfrey was a mountain climber. DD
helps.

I am not quite sure where I stand in relation to newly arrived
letters, but I start bravely somewhere in between. I was most interested
in your letter from the Stables-hand, but am not really sure where we
stand now. Whether you have given her the idea of going off on her own,
without any indebtedness, I can't guess. I doubt that the tracing down of
heirs would be hard if one really wished to. (Incidentally still no word
to me from Jackson; I rather thought he would drop me a line) * What a rough
time John Schaffner must have had with his flu. Susan can sympathize with
him, though she had no hallucinations I am glad to say, just irritations. *
I forgot to say how delighted I was with the note from Ines. Will you tell
her that Susan and I bow low and wish to thank her. The envelope you yourself
must have seen. It was a sheer delight.

Then yours of the 4th. Many thanks again for the Pro Juvenute.
No, don't inquire for my sake about procuring the missing ones. I mentioned
them only as a possibility for your Clara Devison who said they had all up
to 1957 or so and then had a gap of a few years. * I did not read the Weimar
book but did glance at a few pages. It was a little solemn I thought, and
missed the fire of Berlin that you knew. Oddly there are many books of
reminiscences about Paris in the '20s but not of Berlin.

Naturally I was intensely grateful for the corrections. I shall
go from this letter to my desk and put them in the original ms so that Mrs
Hamerman can finish her typing. And I am grateful for the additional new
pages that came today. I have not tried to read them in the hurley-burley
of the office day. Mrs H has fetched out the earlier copy so it is ready for
me.

Yours of the 5th and 6th. How sad it is that Saillet will see no
one. Alas, I think if you only had time, instead of the ms to finish, he
would see you and you could do wonders for him in a p.a. way. He needs a non-
Swiss therapist, but one who like yourself understands the Swiss inhibitions.
* Coigny must be a little puzzled about her son's personal United Nations. If
he would take the time to run up to New Haven whilst in New York I should be
truly honored. Or I could see him in New York if he thinks it useful. I like
him personally very much indeed. His only reason for coming to New Haven with
his wife, or without, might be curiosity to see Yale or a bit of New England.
I could take them for a drive in the car. Do ask him; I don't want to embarrass
him by forging an urgency. * I shiver when I think of you in the hallways at
Kenwin. If only I were there we could bundle, as the early colonials used to
do.

Susan was delighted both with her Christmas and her birthday greet-
ings. You were kind to think of her and make the day an event with the cable.

And oh yes, I wondered if you thought it would be useful for me to
write Derek Godfrey, in Cornwall, who is doing the bibliography of Stables? It
might be a lead in. I wrote a long letter to Ballantyne's daughter. I wonder
if she will reply now or wait another four years. She lives in Sussex. If
I should ever go to England again I might motor to see her.

Now to your ms, both you and I!

All love and warmth,

" My master would have liked to fit the coat again. " The apprentice looked about thirteen although he was actually older and in the striped linen jacket and breeches in which his master dressed him, he needed only a hat tucked under his arm to appear some gentleman's son waiting for his tutor, if it had not been for a tuft of reddish hair sticking arrogantly up from the top of his head. He was looking neither at Antoine nor the garment that he had brought with him but at a cupboard at the end of the room, less because he was interested in its contents than to show his indifference towards a tiresome young man who was a customer only because his father could afford to pay some extremely expensive bills.

" I have been invited unexpectedly to a family celebration so please take my old coat round to our house this evening. " Antoine put his hand into his pocket, found a small coin and thrust it into the urchin's hand. He had already dressed himself in what was to have been his clean Sunday shirt and his best breeches because he intended to wear the new coat as an omen of the future at the meeting he was to attend that afternoon. His father would not approve of the color when he saw it; black, they had agreed, would be too sombre but his father had advised a dark grey whereas Antoine had picked the blue that was now so fashionable in France and not, as they would say in the family, serious. Yet he was a man and they were still treating him as a boy. Only his membership of the secret club that Louis had founded, kept him alive among such irritating frustrations.

The meetings were held in a deserted hut on a hill above the city and the one to which he was now bound should be particularly interesting because Louis was going to read a report newly smuggled in from France. It was growing late. He would have to hurry. He snatched up the coat, he could never be sure afterwards what precisely had happened, but a large button caught in the rush-backed chair, the

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

10 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

This is little more than a promissary note, but I could not
let this morning's business missive stand as my letter to you. Alas, I
have let myself linger too long over the payment of bills (importantly my
final payment on the 1968 income tax) and have an appointment at the gymn
at 5. Part of the morning went to taking a broken chair from my office to
the Eddie Hoepfner who does cabinet making for me (you have been with me
to his little shop on a back street--but where, happily for me, have you
not been with me as part of our life--), and persuaded him at last to come
to my office where with some difficulty he put the New Guineau primitive
woodcarvings on to the walls. Now I am almost completely filled, rather
like those mid-nineteenth century galleries of wall-papered frames, so
thick were they applied. I remember the Czernin Gallery in Vienna as one
of the last of these; perhaps you too remember it. Anyhow the objects are
off the floor.

Your two letters of the 7th arrived, separately which made for
more pleasure. It does quite obviosly seem better for every reason that
you postpone Cetona until the buds are out. Islay's letter was a combination
of shivering and pleasure at being back. * Isobel Ballantyne I will leave
for tomorrow. * You spoke of sending on one or more of Robin's letters but
did not. Why not send and I return to you? It permits coping more sympathetic-
ally in case of emergency.

Each Christmas in the States one leaves a little gift for the
postman, trashman, milkman etc. Our postman returned the enclosed note, which
I thought rather nice. Do not return of course.

Until tomorrow, then, with

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

11 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Saturday afternoon again at the office. I was told an article (forgotten) for the Graduate School magazine was overdue and I said I would try this weekend, but I cannot force myself to it, and instead work at clearing my desk. I have an obsession that way, though of course the article is symbolically on my desk too. Actually Mrs H has so much to do--I have more than enough for a full-time girl, and she is only 2/3 time,--that I am doing some notes I really ought not to take my own time for. But she is at more essential things, and I want her to be free to show up at the Snowflakes when the last questions are answered and clear. Actually there are two chapters she really can do now and paginate later.

It being Saturday there was as usual no letter from you, but I think I told you that two of the 7th came yesterday. I'm glad you have a replacement for Mme Moret; it is difficult not to have someone on occasion to do the heavier cleaning. * Oh dear, if flagellation is really dull for you then I can never persuade you to crawl under the banner of the Égret and let me discover whether it is dull for me. Ah well, we shall discover some substitute, I daresay. * You ask about Isobel Ballantyne. No, I have never met her. She loaned a photograph or two for the Grolier Club show--I don't quite remember what. I delayed in writing to thank her, and never heard in reply to my letter of thanks. Why should I. Now it seems she wrote a long letter two years ago, neither finishing it nor sending it. Then a new letter in November to accompany the first. My hunch is that she wanted in the second to know where I got the mss from, since all originated with her. On the other hand she may just be lonely, and want to correspond. I know Ballantyne didn't smoke, but perhaps I could ask her if her father liked the whip---spare the rod and spoil the child has sinister connotations these secret-life days. * Still no additional calendars from Swissair, and I have given up hope and simply sulk as rejected. However I have managed to find a home for all thirteen.

A little now to my horror I have a further letter from the new English bookdealer, saying she (my clerk for magazines is a she) is sending along vols 8, 3,9,27,30,31,37,41,43 and 46 of the Boy's Own Annual. I am still not complete but the gaps are lessening. She thinks she can get me a vol 4 of Henty's Union Jack, to complete our set. And is trying for the Girl's Own Annual, which I shall have bound in full morocco in your honor. Not dusty diamonds in the Girl's Own certainly, but I thought it might make an interesting comparison.

Gallup tells me that Yale has been offered I think 126 letters from Edith to Pavlov (I can't spell what comes after the T), which I gather the Salter says Edith gave her. Others ms are of the same sort, perhaps out of the French apartment which the Salter cleaned out. The price from a dealer, $10,000.00 which Yale simply didn't have. And the letters we do have are not to be opened until the year 2000. This was most kind of Dame Edith. (To get to Salter)

Two more yellowbacks arrived. With a customarily unusual letter from Lethbridge. I liked his being consulted by the woman who wanted him to rid her son of an evil spirit. I must get him to teach you how to swing the pendulum,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

so that you can swing it at me. It is hard to believe but must be so if he says so. His watercolor of the boat was charming. * I was sorry that Herring missed his trip to Spain. Muriel Rukeyser wrote asking his address; I gave it to her on the basis that a letter might please Herring. No point to tell her how I got it. * These are still all November letters. I was much worried about Barbara Jordan's home treatment for a gallbladder condition. She should see a good doctor. But I suppose she couldn't be spared for an operation so long as mama is alive. I had a nice card from her. * Bryan still seems somewhat unsettled. I am sorry for this. * Am glad that Leslie H's book is going so well. I asked the Cleanth Brookses about him a few days ago; they said they had completely lost touch, now that the Hotsons have left the church they had in common. * A nice letter from Ingholt to you, from which I learned his daughter is back. I think I wrote that they hope to have the Goughs up to lecture in March. I have written them asking if they would like to stay with us, and told Harald I would help make up the small fee necessary. * Incidentally I did write Maitre Coigny a letter yesterday, inviting him to come up if he could. * John's letter about his psychedelic dreams would have fascinated Hilda. It is almost writing on the wall. Pup wrote a long and good thankyounote, and said that Valentine is applying again to Columbia, hoping to transfer. he likes the school but feels New York is necessary to his full development. He may have a friend or friends he wishes to be near. * An interesting letter from Dorothy Dudley. I hope you can see her when you Scillonize.

We had friends come in to play bridge last night, after dinner; which helped to relieve Susan's boredom. This afternoon we go briefly to John Pope's for cocktails (he is the Beowulf-boy), and tomorrow to the Cleanth Brookses for noon dinner. So I must back to my desk of pain.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

12 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

I sniffle a little as I type, and hope this does not mean I
am coming down with another cold. This would be too discouraging, especi-
ally since Susan may well be recovering from hers.

And alas as I reported we have to go for noon dinner to the
Cleanths Brooks. It will be pleasant, they have an old saltbox house in
the country, but I rather wish I had the afternoon to continue at work on
my office chores. Except that no doubt I would stay home instead and
watch the finals in the professional football match.

Our cocktail party yesterday at the Popes' was enjoyable and
we did not have to stay too long. He proudly exhibited at large chest he
had carved, with a medallion of his son and much chestnut trees and burrs
since the wood was chestnut from their Cleveland homestead. However I
believe he has been at work on it for over 25 years and finished it now
only because his son (married for the second time) lives and teaches in
California and wishes his furniture sent out by van.

I began taking some of the Boy's Own Annual back to Goodrich
Street, as crowding me out of shelf space at the office. I had visions of
having Mrs H goethrough the indexes and cataloguing when the giant diamond
cutters appeared. But I can now see she can never get through the regular
work I give her, so there is no point pretending. When you settle down in
New Haven I think we might hire a second girl, primarily for you and to
fill in the extra time with work of this sort for us both.

Early this week I go to the travel agency and begin arrangements
for the spring holiday. I believe it come mid-March more or less until the
end. I had thought it preferable to stop over in Nice en route either to
Zurich or Geneva--I believe one actually has to do Geneva (which is all right
going in; and I will simply hold up a Swissair calendar as a passepartout)--
I should think two full days would be enough, or maybe three since I might
like also to take the chance to see the Chapel at Vinces. I will send you
details shortly, and if in the end you don't want to come (I hope you will),
we'll simply go straight on to Switzerland. Without you, a visit to Nice,
especially to Philip is out, would be no fun, would deprive me of being with
you. The only hitch may be that Pup writes she goes to Kenwin in the spring
to help you dismantle. I don't want to get in her way. If we were to con-
flict I can flip Susan to Munich or some such place. It is always great fun
to be with Pup, but discussions of what to do and where things might go could
be irritating to her, as well as to you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

14 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

The days drag on. I began this one by taking boots to be re-heeled and re-soled (would I could be re-healed and re-souled myself), but forgot to take my slip for the one left there on Saturday and so managed only one part of my errand. The rest of the day I have spent going over World War Two novels for a talk I give at Southern Connecticut State College tomorrow night.

Plus tidying up the draft of observations made by the Mark Twain Memorial Committee yesterday noon when we went over the report submitted by the two ambitious dames who would like to take the Memorial over. Or so I feel, but of course one must not show this in the answer. I went to Hartford for lunch downtown, but one of the committee had flu. Everyone has flu. My day was comparatively free because my appointments were cancelled for the same reason. In the afternoon I went to the Library Committee meeting where it was recommended that the cataloguing and servicing of the Mark Twain Memorial books, mss and photos etc be combined with the similar material of the Harriet Beecher Stowe Memorial on the same lot. Their home has now been restored, and fortunately has a four and a half million dollar endowment. They will pay the costs of cataloguing etc. It will be both simpler and more economical. When you are safely in New Haven I will take you to the Stowe House and to see the splendid additional restoration done to the Clemens home.

Your letters 66 the 9th and 10th came today. You are and I alike; I went a fortnight ago and ordered a lightweight summer suit from my tailor. The price staggered me, for tailored, but I cannot wear ready-to-wear. No wonder I let my wardrobe get down. Once in Hong Kong I shall store up with lightweight clothes. They seem obscenely expensive here, since it costs as much to tailor one type of suit as another. No doubt the same with you, * No tears in my eyes when you got your Swissair bill. For it means you will be coming to me. I called my trabel agent this morning to make preliminary arrangements about our spring visit. There may be awkwardnesses vis-a-vis Nice, for the plane connections between there and Geneva are impossible. And we would need two full days in Nice, one for Philip one for Romaine. Which would give only Friday, Saturday, Sunday for Kenwin and Fides. * Am most grateful for the Greenland clipping. If we should go back next summer I am counting on your coming too, Kenwin notwithstanding. * Was glad to have chapter Ten, but naturally am always nervous at the omitted sections. You take this better in stride than I do. I will keep the first two pages of Eight by me.

Susan still coughs after dinner while she reads, then settles down, and has begun to cough again only about four or five in the morning. But it tires her. I keep in distant rooms.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

Had a nice letter, rather a proud one, from Ruegg about the %age gain over the last few years in Scilly. "We did not violate security by giving any gross sum, just the percentage' of increase. Your other accounts, like Winson, work on the calendar year so the results are not in. But the New York market has fallen off so sharply that everything will seem much down as against early December. However this means only so much less inflation, one hopes/. But prices go up all the time.

I had written Eric White about Mrs Osborn and he replied today. "What news of Bryher? I've heard nothing of her since I bumped into her by chance in L'Epicure Resaurant, Soho, about nine months ago." I shall write that you are paying your semi-annual visit to Moscow.

Susan talked on the phone to her Susan yesterday, who was much excited and very happy indeed at the move last weekend to her new house across the street from her old one. She had to wait until the former owners found a new place to live -- a wait of four months, but they paid rent meanwhile. The movers brought the truck by rule, but moved the piano etc across the street by hand. Four couples helped all day--the men constantly--in moving smaller objects. Very neighborly I thought. Lizzie fixed a casserole evening meal for all couples and Susan's family, but could not go herself since she had to work late at a florist's, fixing corsages for a Jewish wedding on Sunday. She has been working at a florist over Christmas and hopes she can keep the connection, in order to build up a better working record. The amount she earns is enough so I can't claim her as a total dependent as before, but therapeutically the cost is worth it. One always keeps one's fingers crossed, but she seems to be managing pretty well.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

15 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

This can be only the merest shadow of a letter. For now that
Mrs H has gone, and the typewriter is free, I must devote myself to the keys
as a means of hotting myself up for the lecture tonight at Southern Connecticut.
I ought to have been long since prepared, for my talk on "The American Novelist
and World War Two" is baed on a paper I gave a few years ago at a Yale Alumni
Seminar. But that was from a somewhat different angle and I have been trying
to develop it a little further. Malcolm Cowley has an article on the same
subject but he tries to cover the waterfront and the walk is too long. I
am taking only two novels by John Hersey (INTO THE VALLEY and THE WAR LOVER),
two by Mailer (THE NAKED AND THE DEAD and ARMIES OF THE NIGHT) and finally
CATCH 22). THE WAR LOVER and CATCH 22 pair as Air Force. ARMIES OF THE
NIGHT and CATCH 22 as black humor. etc. War novels are written in terms
of what comes between war and the writer. Heller for example wants to write
about the McCarthy loyalty probes, and takes the war as a metaphor. Mailer
wanted to write about coercion socially and used war as an extrapolation.
The war isn't the subject of novels, really, any more than history is the
subject of historical novels. Or no more than. I'm not sure what all this
proves, but I hope it uses up the time.

Susan's cold is perhaps a little better, the measurement being
only the amount of coughing. But we did not go to the symphony last night.
Instead we listened to Johnson's farewell address to Congress. He did not
say very much except for recommending every possible reform for the next decade,
a sensible move since if anything at all is ever done he can claim that it
was done at his recommendation. Mostly he kept it on the folksy, sentimental
side. On the whole it went over very well. Only Ted Kennedy sat glumly, head
in hand and applauding nothing.

Your letter of the 12th arrived. So did a nice letter from Mrs
Pratt thanking again for the television, for which the bank draft had arrived.
* Poor John Schaffner has indeed had a rough time of it. I see that they plan
a good visit to Cetona in the spring, after their winter's holiday in Barbados.
I am sure we can manage so that our visits to you do not coincide. You would
have too much and too simultaneous advice.

Our coastal New England way of putting it is, "Red sky in the
morning, sailors take warning; red sky at night, sailor's delight."

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

17 January 1969

Dear Fido,

You had no letter from me yesterday; for just as I was about to squeeze one in, there was a great knock at the door. I was just paying a call after getting a haircut from my barber. As always, I examined all mechanical equipment carefully, practised with the dictating machine, admired the trophies from New Guinea now on the office wall, and used up enough time before he went on to a hobby stuff to spend more money, so that now there was left for me before I had to leave an hour for a time was left for me before I had to leave an hour for a meeting of the Board of the Connecticut Academy. It was very kind of you to dinner and a lecture

and that is exactly as far as I got this morning. For in came Richard Hlavak, who is associate librarian of the University of Otago, at Dunedin, in New Zealand, who had arrived yesterday morning, was taken by me to lunch to meet other librarians, and then joined Susan and myself for dinner with the officers of the Academy and for the lecture afterwards. This took care of his evening and ours, and I nodded during the excellent talk on "Language and the Mind" (which proved my mind to be not quite up to standard by the end of the day). I had arranged a library morning for him today, and he came in at the end only to thank me. I had him put up at the Graduates Club rather than have him at the house. A nice young man whom I met in Dunedin, here on a tour of libraries.

He came just before lunch, and just after lunch until now have been a couple of oral examinations for the doctorate, I having to examine on the Romantic and Victorian periods. I am hardly an expert but manage, I guess, to sneak by. The exam folling the two I gave will be one examiner shy, the news coming that a nun on our faculty (who was to have been an examiner) had had to stay in New York where she had been a witness to a murder today. I was told she has a flair for this sort of thing; in Chicaho when she still wore a habit she drove in her car by a bleeding body of a man who had been shot. She stopped, called the police, and then had him taken to a hospital run by her order, where they saved his life. Afterwards she received an invitation, addressed to "The Nun in the Blue car," inviting her to come in that car to a certain address. The police said she should go, since it was the headquarters of the Blackstone Rangers, the chief motorcycle gang in that area, and the police couldn't get in. She went, was welcomed heartily as the savior of one of the gang. She stayed to play pool with them, and when she left they told her they would act as her protectors. When she drove to Milwaukee for example, two motorcyclists escorted her. Similarly about the city. I suppose she was known as "Our Lady of the Motorbikes."

Your letters of the 14th and 15th came today, and I can comment more on them tomorrow, when there will be no orals to give, and hopefully no New Zealanders to entertain. But I thank you for the beginning of IX. I now have bits and pieces of several chapters, and will not try to put them

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

18 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

It being Saturday, no letter came from you. So there is little
to distract me from my desk. Except that on my desk was a yellowback that
arrived yesterday. Even early January letters were included, so it must in
fact have come by air. Kenneth's Cetona letter made them seem snug. Central
heating must be a true blessing in an Italian winter. I wrote him yesterday
sending along clippings on a dinner for his old girl friend Peggy Guggenheim
and the opening of a show of her paintings at the Guggenheim. * I was interest-
ed to learn that O.B. had now turned to oils. His paintings are always wonder-
fully decorative and one or two might be fun for your New Haven apartment. *
Poor Chester Page, and his holdup. He was indeed lucky not to have been
injured, and to have escaped the actual robbery. Alas, the moon may shine
but the world does not.

Checking again on your letters of the 14th and 15th. Susan is
perhaps a little better but exhausted from still coughing and from the very
thought of having been uncomfortable for so long. One can't blame her. She
goes out as little as possible, for the damp air can irritate her throat. *
I approve of your working out however as much as you can. Suddenly last night
it turned warm and was nearly 400F. This being for the first time above
freezing I began the day by lifting the drain cover (which had been frozen
tight) and emptying out a bushel basket of leaves and debris which was blocking
the drain. We have been lucky so far with no heavy snows, but when they come
and finally melt there must be some river to the sea besides into the garage.
* As I said, thank you for the first part of Chap.8. I still wait answers to
the questions. If you have lost or tossed aside the sheets with the missing
section between them, let me know and I will send again. # The question about
how the pamphlets were disguised you can answer from my letter. # Please
understand that you blamed me for changing "looked" to "stared" whereas in
fact it was you yourself who did it. I never raised the complaint as to the
change; you yourself did in blaming me. # Yes, I have Derek Godfrey's address
in the letter from the Stables-girl you sent me. # I am astonished at the cost
of shipping the Jackson-Henty collection over. Yes, the gift which is a wonder-
ful one must stand for all occasions for a long time to come. I have only heard
of Pickford's. Philip seemed to think this firm the right one.

Robin's letter was indeed a sad one, but gives an almost universal
situation of conflict or stress between a mother and daughter. Had the child
been a son Robin would have been involved; with a daughter he left all to mama.
Petrie never meant to, but one could feel from the memoirs and from knowing her
that she hardly allowed Oonagh to become independent. All right for Petrie's
generation perhaps (although she herself was given much more freedom) but not
for Oonagh's. And it is a terrific responsibility for a young girl to feel
she must marry both riches and rank, when to Oonagh this must have seemed more
for her mother's sake than her own. But Robin ought to feel that a daughter
can feel this way towards a mother and still regret that it's so; and that now
there is only himself he can at least be a father as well as a wife's husband.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

19 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Sunday morning in the office. A few more letters done. I finished the chapter of Overlund's dissertation he had sent me (he is the one I went to prod in Oslo) and wrote him a letter about it to mail tomorrow. I much hope he will have it done by this June. Sometimes it seems to take more effort than it's worth to get these Scandinavians to finish. At least it seemed so for Hansen. I think he actually resents my not having seen to it that he got a professorship in Denmark, though he is doing well as it is and is much farther along than he ever would have been without Yale.

Then a letter to Skard about another man who began his dissertation on an idea I gave him when he was at Yale, but is now finishing the dissertation in Norway under Skard.

Then back to a dissertation being submitted here on "The Tyranny of the Eye: the Observer as Aggressor in Henry James's Fiction." The title is enough to throw one out of sympathy. So are certain quotations and analyses. For example:

"the following is excerpted from the crucial eleventh chapter, in which Dr. Sloper reveals for the first time, to his daughter Cathertne and to the reader, the full extent of his callous and indeed cruel domination of the girl:

[I skip all but the conclusion]

'Please don't say that, father!' the girl urged, softly, fixing her dull and gentle eyes upon him.

..... Her father glanced at her an instant, removing his eyes from the fire."

To me it reads more as though he were removing roasted chestnuts.

Susan thinks she slept better last night. I hope she has crossed the hump.

In my Christmas note to Mildred Brown I spoke of having met Margaret Snively whose father had been head of the school to which Mildred went. The pony cart actually was Margaret's, not Hilda's--as Mildred thought. Margaret didn't of course remember her, but Mildred wishes to write, and so I have given the address.

A letter came asking for the equivalent of one day's salary from non-British members of Authors. I suppose I should send something, but can't make up my mind. There are so many calls, even demands made these days.

As you so well know.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

20 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Today has been an absolute shambles so far as my desk was concerned. And no letter from you today, even as from Saturday's gap, so I was unsolaced. I only hope you have not been sniffling nor snowed in nor facing confrontations by protesting Swiss.

Still, I guess things have been done if one views life philosophically and as a whole. I gave directions for the day to Mrs H after my arrival, but could read only a few of the mass of letters in the post before having to leave for my appointment with the doctor for a physical. This was a little earlier this year so that long forms could be filled out by him and sent to Washington vis-a-vis the Japan trip in 1970. He poked and prodded and measured. I hopped on one foot with before and after measurements of all sorts. My eyes twisted and turned as they followed the direction of his fingers. All of the overt tests were apparently satisfactory, and I won't know what the x-rays and blood and other tests showed until the reports came in. I am ordered to take more new vitamins to see if my fatigue can be relieved, but I suspect that only less work can do this. All this took an hour and a half, after which I went to my local art dealer and picture framer with a car full of paintings and prints from the International Student Center which they wanted to dispose of. He agreed to try to sell them all, which was a relief. Later I sent the one old oil painting to the Art Gallery for a proper description and advice as to its disposal. By then it was noon, and after lunch I was visited for an hour by a new arrival from Norway, a Mr Kro who is here by my arrangement (at the request of Professor Skard at Oslo, whose protege Kro) and presumably under my supervision. I had met him at a dinner given for me in Oslo, but shamefully I had forgotten. By three I had still not read the morning mail. But after Mrs H left I could have done nothing with it and so went to my tailor's for a fitting for a new brown suit I had ordered, my other one having a patched collar, and Susan feels it unfitting for a professor to wear a darned and patched coat to formal affairs. I simply call it organically suitable. Back from the tailor's I found a student of many years ago here to show me his wife and infant daughter and ask whether he should or should not accept a chairmanship in New Mexico. He has always been loyal as a correspondent, and I was glad to see him tho I lamented the loss of time. For I had at least expected to have finished a book on Poe and the British magazine tradition which I am supposed to blurb and want off my desk.

Today they have had the inaugural in Washington, and it is interesting that no one pays the slightest attention. People simply don't care; there is no kindling spark even of anger. No one really expected anything to happen vis-a-vis Vietnam until after the inauguration; nothing has. Nothing has happened of any kind, and most people doubt that anything will. Which is why Republicans and Democrats alike simply say when one speaks of the inauguration, "Oh, that!" They don't even care whether or not Nixon wears a hat.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Whew! I have just been visited by a Gordon Ramsey, a former student, now alumni director at a preparatory school, and author of a book on Agatha Christie. He is here for a convention and he must have been practising his cliches for the meeting on me. At any event I didn't have to utter a word, and I was glad that Mrs H stayed and put her head in to say I had another appointment. I do but not for another fifteen minutes, in fact.

Susan phoned in mid-morning, elated because she had returned from her barium x-rays and all seemed well. She has been very quiet and subdued for the last day of so. I suspect she was understandably frightened by the possibilities.

Your first-of-the-year royalty account came in from Random House. Of *Gate to the Sea*, 147 copies were sold; and of *Ruan* 393 copies. The total check was for $224.08. We should have another statement for *October* and the other titles we have on a different sort of contract.

I was or was not amused to receive the latest issue of *Agenda*, and wonder what the University of Rochester will think to have no mention at all made of the University's connection with it. Also, my subscription having, so they say, run out to have the notice read, "Please send £1 ($4.00) to,"etc. Which is the first news I've had of Wilson's success in having the £ upgraded to four dollars.

Your letters of the 16th, 17th, and 18th came. Kenneth's note also. I am impressed by all the new improvements they are making to La Vagnola. The ceiling in the ballroom repainted--I remember they did not quite like the cloud effect they had had done before. And now the grottos being redecorated. It really will be a showplace, almost in the American manner. ** We will arrange the Nice visit as it works out. I shall write Philip as soon as my reservations are confirmed. If he is planning to be in South Africa, we can make re-arrangements. ** Glad you agree that Rossler might do better to locate himself in his memoirs in Canada, thus in a sense giving a conclusion to the story. It does sound interesting. ** I have quite given up any arguments about the Tiger. My own hunch is that you will decide to keep Kenwin in order to make Tigerli happy. ** Am glad Sylva likes *slay's* novel. She is always a good judge. The copy I finally ordered of his book from England has not yet come. But it has only been a couple of months. Actually with the sea strike the postoffice this side will accept no surface mail to England. * I bought a copy of John Eisenhower's book on his father for the Brigadier, but will have to send it airmail. It will cost a fortune but may interest him.

Have had the two pages xeroxed to replace those you mislaid.
Chap Three cannot be typed until you make some bridge between the two pages.

Obviously something was omitted as you turned the page. Don't try again to dig up the original but just make up a bridge. You'll remember whether an incident was dropped or just a phrase. The other queries I'll wait to make after you've answered this one. Maybe we should meet for a weekend in Copenhagen when all the text is in, and go over all the questions (if any) then.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

22 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Infinite thanks for your three envelopes which arrived to-
day. I am grateful for the rest of Chapter 8, and will put it together
for Mrs H's typing tonight or tomorrow. She is still busy with what she
already has. Letters of the 19th and 20th came as well.

You are really having a romance with the Wipf. I know it
will please her that you are having her painting framed, and I daresay
it will indeed be a safeguard for the canvass when the time comes for
it to travel. * I shall be properly mindful of my constant change of
linen and suits when next I come to Kenwin. There is no reason at all
why I can't change my entire costume for lunch as well as supper. * I
was delighted at your Maltese-born spy's use of Selfridge's as a cover.
Perhaps Ml-5 confused book jackets with cover, and what better camo-
flauge could a man have than to be photographed in a "suitable Nazi
posture" behind Mein Kampf. My only query is what constitutes a
suitable posture? What with all one read about Nazi male perversions,
it sounds most indecent. But perhaps this is allowable within the
public school tradition? I seek your knowledgeable comment. * Yes,
Eleanor Clark wrote about oyster gathering in France and another
about a villa in Rome. She writes very well and very successfully. *
I know the Aron Eskimo paintings, and am not sure but what either
Count Emil Knuth gave me the page proofs of the book when we were in
Copenhagen, or Jørgen Melgaard did, of the things in color. * Kind of
Helen to give you the Zurich address. I suspect that this may be just
the answer. * I didn't realise that you had had three volumes of the
Boy's Own; are they already in New Haven with what I already had, or in
addition. I simply don't know what volume numbers you do have.

Who knows. We may be in for another bit of Dusty Diamond
excitement. When I told you that Ballantyne's daughter had written at
such length, I also told you my hunch that she wanted to know where I
had gotten the mss mentioned in Quayle's bibliography. So In answering
her I simply said I had got some from Brimmell and some from Quayle. No
point in lying and being involved in a conspiracy. Today I had a closely
written and rambling four-page letter from her again, in which she accuses
Quayle of never having been given the mss nor bought them. Alto she admits
she sold "two or was it three" mss to Brimmell (it must have been ten to
fifteen). I will be hearing from her lawyer, etc. Her daughter could
scrape together the money to come over to consult with me, etc. But first
I shall have to have the letter typed out so I can know what I am reading
w ithout going dizzy. Then I shall have to actually have heard from the
lawyer. And I consider this a matter to be settled first of all between
the daughter and Quayle. But who can say that book collecting is not a
great adventure!

A letter came from Philip today saying that the Henty things
were off. I replied to thank him, and to say when we would be in Nice (all
hotel reservations have been confirmed for there and Lisbon and Madrid) and

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

23 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

The day has gone by without my accomplishing anything. Nor last
night either though I had expected to get to work on the Greenland lecture for
Sunday afternoon, and this morning on the article due for the Graduate School
magazine. I could not seem to function, and after lunch napped in my green
chair until a hunk of the day had been consumed. My fatigue is unwarranted.
Perhaps it is simply a defense against doing the article when I have nothing
to say. Nor do things go well with the lecture, for I cannot put my hand on
the transparencies sent me some years ago for the restoration. Unless by some
chance I have already inserted them in the sequence of slides I last used.
Tonight I shall put them on the screen and hope for the best.

No letter from you, and the only event was the arrival of Mary
deRachewiltz and her son Walter from Rutgers. The boy came for an interview
for admission to the graduate department of Comparative Literature for a year
after next Fall (next year) he wants to go to Bologna, and off on a shorter
expedition or two with his father the Prince.) Mary was tired as from a
long bout with the flu, and encouragement because the final arrangements for
the sale of EP's papers never seems to be concluded. Yale I believe doesn't
get around to its share, but I have long since disinvolved myself. L'affaire
Ballantyne is enough for me. I took Gallup and Mary and Walter for luncheon
to the Graduates Club, which was pleasant enough but time-consuming.

The account for royalties on the earlier books with Pantheon
came yesterday after I had written. This adds $1,915.89 to what I told you of
before. The reckoning in detail goes as follows. Of *Beowulf*, 466 copies. Of
*October*, 341 copies. Of *Ghandara*, 19 copies. Of *Players Boy*, 130. Of *Roman
Wall*, hardcover 467 copies; paperback 6 copies. Of *Tribute to Freud*, none sold and
11 copies returned. It is fascinating in a way that copies of the more expensive
edition of *Roman Wall* sell better than paperbacks. Perhaps we should re-title
it *My Secret Roman*, for the paperback marked.

I must apologize to you and to Grindea for in some stupid way con-
fusing his magazine with *Agenda* which so correctly bore no tie with Rochester.
I still think however that $4.00 is a poor translation of £1. I shall pay for
my renewal by a bank draft for one pound.

Two paperbacks have come. One Novemberish which must have come
surface. The other for letters as late as 9 January. Which must have come
airmail. How strange that Petrie had her premonition at Christmas '67 that it
might be her last. But you felt this too, and we both did in evidence of her
haste to finish the memoirs. Where do they stand at the moment? * Horace and
Marya's letters were pleasant. I spoke to him on the phone last Sunday noon.
Joanna and family were there, she just beginning to recover from a before Christmas
flu. Both Horace and Marya have been lucky. He still forges ahead with his
memoirs, at least the first draft of them (but I doubt they need much revision)
and has now reached the age of the Depression. * Lethbridge's letter about his
brother-in-law was most amusing. Actually it is rather a pity he doesn't try
his hand at a novel. I think he could do one, historical or modern. Why not
suggest it to him? * What do you make of Kenneth's clock which stopped when
his heart fluttered and now bangs twelve. Is this optimistic or pessimistic as
a note? I am surprised that *slay's* novel has not been reviewed, though from

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

24 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

A drizzly day with that shade of dark gray that never becomes the world. One can be pleased however that there is no snow. As people we have been lucky in having almost none so far; but the plants, ah! Susan says, how they want snow to keep them warm.

Last night we watched your friend Joy Adamson and her first husband and her second husband as they revisited the lions. Actually only the two husbands did, while their Joy stayed home in England and read letters from them. The two men seemed to get on well together--blessed be the cash that binds. Actually the color films were very good indeed, and the lions quite beguiling. Adamson himself, I should gather, really prefers to cuddle a cat than a queen. One can't help liking him as a man but he may well be less successful as a mate.

I began today by retreating from the article for the Graduate School magazine. I know when I'm licked, and I simply couldn't hit the right tone. I kept adding too much after-dinner-talk sugar. It simply wouldn't have done at all. So now I am back trying to pull together my talk for Sunday on Brattahlid. My chief problem is how to cut down the number of slides. Alas, fewer icebergs I guess. And I only have three as it now is.

Not a letter from you today either. I think this is three days without. But I had almost nothing else in the mail either, so I daresay the fault is at this end.

Mrs Hamerman almost went blind transcribing the ballantyne daughter's letter, and when you read it you will see why. I am not answering it for the time being, but will wait to hear from the lawyer if he writes. I have a copy for Philip, and have alerted him, but will do nothing until the lawyer writes. Then the matter is between Mrs Dobson and Quayle, and this has to be settled before I step in. Poor Philip, to become so involved in juvenile historical novelists. Please don't send this letter along but destroy or save for later reference.

I am now reading Gwyn Jones' new Oxford Press book on the Vikings. The whole story, Mediterranean, Britain and all over. You will be interested to read it I think when you come across to settle.

A letter from Kay Boyle who is back at the front line trenches of San Francisco State College. She is in swinging, like one of the warrior maidens (no maiden, she!) in the French Rev olution. She had been abroad for a month lecturing to student revolutionaries in Germany, France and Austria. She is a sort of beligerent early Christian missionary.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

25 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Another day of bits and pieces, but oddments can be put away. Bills, checkbook, notes in reply, a letter to the Brigadier, etc. I began the day with a visit to the laboratories to have my blood tests repeated. My doctor phoned yesterday to say the blood they took before had clotted and so could not be used. This was because of bad luck with the anti-coagulate at the bottom of the test tube. He had said I could wait. I preferred having all cleaned up, hating to have to remember for a month, until my next visit for a shot, that I must have this re-done.

At last I have my deeds for the land at the shore. In all three deeds were required because of the various estates which owned part shares in the property. The 92 year old man who died a couple of years ago, his niece and nephew, and the old man's father's estate which he had never settled in ordered to keep control of it. I feel much relieved now that no one can build on it. Susan I know is pleased for encroachment was what she always feared most.

Incidentally the Ballantyne daughter is 84 not 92 as I said.

Poor Susan. Last night as she went up to bed she called out to me not to forget that she had put on the burglar alarm. Then she turned and came back. What I can do for you? I asked. -- Nothing, I just wanted to check. So she went to the back door and opened it to see if the latch was off. This of course set off the alarm. We called the protection agency and held them from coming, but couldn't stop the police in time. So I sent her off upstairs, nightgowned, and held an interview with the police. They took down my age, perhaps wondering if I was old enough to be allowed an alarm system. But they were at the house in less than five minutes, which is reassuring to us.

Nothing in the mail from you today either. Nor yesterday, nor the day before. And since I had ample post otherwise, perhaps the fault isn't really just at this end. But I shall have a cornucopia in a few days, and that will sustain me retroactively.

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

26 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

I fear you've been rather done in by Horace. I phoned him
about 11:30 this morning in order to report to you afterwards. He was
still being bathed and dressed, and so I suggested to Marya that he call
later rather than have me keep the phone tied up while he finished (as she
thought better to have done). And so just as I was going to write you my
Sunday note, his telephone call came and he let himself go into a real
talking jag. Fortunately he put the call in and so he paid for it. But
it is obvious that he is starved for conversation, and I probably should
call him once a week. He saves up questions and stories. Today was
chiefly about reprintings of his books by reprint houses, the fact that
he has a literary agent (a friend of Patrick's). And from Marya that she
was now feeling well again, having she feared become careless with her
diabetes treatment. I scolded her for this, because it so often happens
with that ailment. People feel better and then grow careless.

We went last night to the gourmet dinner, this time a
Polynesian menu which was better than it sounds when read. And we had
a pleasant group of younger people to sit with, two of them students of
mine many years ago-- three couples in addition to ourselves.

Now I have been swotting up for my talk on Brattahlid this
afternoon at the Historical Society. I am a fool to have agreed to do
it, and I only pray it goes without too much embarrassment for my audience.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

27 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

This was to have been a glorious day of concentrated work on student papers, Monday morning mail, and the like. But early in the day a brave cockroach made its appearance in the office bathroom. I do not like cockroaches anywhere, least of all in my office bathroom. My mama always associated cockroaches and bedbugs with inferior dirty people, and so I feel tainted. But how was he there, and from whence? At a second appearance, he was chased and bruised by Mrs H. Finally the exterminators came from the university, and death was a blessed relief--for us as well as for him. But one is still reminded of him by an almost funeral odor of exterminatorial fumes. It takes time.

Shortly thereupon came a newly arrived Norwegian Americanist, whom I was asked to sponsor by the professor at Oslo. With his wife who is a linguistics student at work on "Aspects" in Old English and Slavic languages, especially Russian. I have no idea what "Aspects" are, nor does John Pope, but I gather it is very up-to-date. At any rate the next hour went into arranging for her to participate in two linguistics seminars with the best two professors at Yale. Fortunately I knew each of them. But it does take time.

And just after lunch came a Frenchman, named Rougé, who teaches at Rennes, and is an ACLS Fellow stationed at Harvard this year. It turns out he wants to know how American Studies is run at Yale, so I spent much of the next hour arranging interviews for him. Also a room, since it turned out that he didn't have any place to stay. But it does take time.

At nearly one when I went to lunch there was still nothing in the post, which meant silence on this side as for last Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday. And I began to worry and only picked at my food. But I stopped on my way back to the office, and there were five letters from you. As well as the remainder of Chapter Nine. Your letters were of the 21st (two), 22nd, 23rd (two). Naturally I rejoiced, though my rejoicing will have to extend over another day or two as I answer.

First of all, thank you for Mrs Packard's letter. I am upset about the Jackson girl's distress. But if we hadn't bought them some one else would, I suppose. Mrs Packard of course sold what she had. But she was a granddaughter not a step-father. Both Henty and Ballantyne have their shadows. But I doubt there is much one can do. It would be pleasant if you could see her some time; she might like the chance to come to London and have a little spree. I believe too that she knows some of the Kingston family, a descendent who is a nearby parson, as I recall.

I hope my letter to Philip about Les Valettes won't upset his plans. We may simply stay a little longer in Madrid, or visit a friend in Barcelona. I shall have to consult but will wait until Philip replies, since I don't want to go wrong twice. # I am glad that you like the du Lac. It will be good to know a place you can recommend. I should think the Boys might like it. * You are a good Fido to have Inez properly clipped. I daresay she has little sense of what they do to her. I can imagine she must grow increasingly uneasy, as she senses the doom of Kenwin and this period of her life.

The devil with it.... I see I must run to the gym. More tomorrow, I hope but that is likely to be busy too. Or, since I expect it to be, perhaps it won't turn out that way.

All love, Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

I should be hard at work, beginning the day by correcting
Graduate School student term papers on Hawthorne, or at least preparing
for my first second-term undergraduate seminar which comes this afternoon.
But I have the French scholar from Rennes for lunch, and have to cut my
seminar short in order to get to the skin surgeon's at 3:30 where he will
make a second (I hope the last) series of removals. So an end-of-the-day
letter to you is unlikely.

The early mail brought yours of the 24th and 25th to me. I
rejoice that all runs smoothly for your visit to Ethel and London. You
have been growing restive with winter and no company except the Wipf (fun
as she is). With a little luck I hope you will have finished the book,
by which I mean the still missing chapters. AND the missing bridge, for
without the latter nothing can be done. I sent you the duplicate guide
pages a few days ago, and they are no doubt already on their way back.
The only alternative would be for me to try to dream up what took place
between the two pages and write the bridge myself. I certainly prefer not
to do that.

Vis-à-vis Nice, as I wrote you I shall have to wait now until
I have heard from Philip. I assume he will say the same to me, but having
put the question to him I shall not try to change plans until I actually do
here. I assume we will not try to go to Nice, as it is a nuisance anyhow.
My idea was simply to chaperone you chez Philip. Alas, the Negresco. I
fear I can't worry as much as you do as to what is the place to stay. I
never mind what other people think so long as I can be centrally located
for a short stay. Longer holidays are of course different in nature. And
I can see that your being in Europe more or less as a resident does make
a difference in terms of what the rest think.

Cleveland is a simple matter by plane, perhaps an hour? Not
more. Rather like our visit to Aarhus. Cleveland Heights is to Cleveland,
as Hamden is to New Haven.

Interested in what your friend has turned up about Stables.
Don't worry about the xerox of the Times obituary; one can get that at the
Yale Library. I may or may not already have it. I know I did for Henty.
The B.M. list from their catalogue I already have. As Stables' bibliographer
says, the B.M. has many gaps in the collections of all these authors. This
is the greatest and easiest of fields in which to have something "not in the
British Museum" as catalogues proudly state. You had a Raleigh like that from
Maggs, but Raleigh of course is a different matter.

How distressing about Coigny's dog! She will get another of course,
but it is hard to train them while one spends so much time in the consulate
office.

Must give back the typewriter now, but did want you to have something
from me today.

All love, as always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN.

29 January 1968

Dearest Fido,

I am filled with codeine and so covered with surgeon's tape that when I stretch in one direction I pull in another. Actually all of my light surgery yesterday afternoon made for a somewhat restless night as I kept being reminded of my mortality. I am filled with antibiotics as well, so that this is a period of unanticipated excitement and change on the past of my 'innards. The surgery took forever and a day but at least the second group has been taken care. I am not sure whether there is or is not to be a third. I go in a week to have one half of the stitches removed, the week afterwards for the rest.

My restless night and fatigue started me off badly by forgetting a necessary text for today's seminar until I reached the university parking lot. So back I went to the house, and back again to the university. Then, my typewriter having begun to skip and otherwise make my secretary unhappy, I had the repair man come to put it in shape. Alas, he says I had better begin to think about replacing it, for a part had broken and parts are beginning to need to be replaced. I suppose I have no complaint; the machine has had hard work for a little over ten years, and now (because of a secretary) receives non-stop banging. Fortunately, thanks to my special account out of which I pay Mrs H, I can buy any replacement at a Yale discount as well as receive something in return for the one I have. I believe a replacement will come to about $400.00 and it may well be worth it in terms of what use I get out of a secretary.

Last night I watched color T.V. of a dash for the north pole. But no one actually reached there, and after a half hour I was somewhat bored with pictures of dogs mushing nowhere.

Your letter of the 26th came today, for which my thanks. Yes, I doubt very much now if we stop over in Nice. It is an inconvenience anyhow to pack and unpack, and as I told you my idea was simply one by which you could be enabled to visit Philip. As you have often said, you are not likely to go solo. But having written Philip I must now wait until I hear from him even though I know what the answer will be. Then I will reroute, with perhaps an extra day in Madrid, and an extra two days chez toi, if this is not too great a burden. I will cook Ines's breakfasts, tell her, so she will not feel put upon. As to Spain I go simply so that Susan can see Prado and Toledo. I have never felt aficionado for the country, and the only two Spanish I have liked with any warmth. Ricardo Sicre who worked for me during the war (a whilom Communist who is now financial adviser to Franco and one of the richest Spaniards going) and the couple from Barcelona who went up the East Coast of Greenland. Pup's letter was enthusiastic and warm. Was glad to know about John's change of office address, for I often write him at his business. I'm rather sorry to miss Pup if she is to be at Kenwin alone. I just didn't want to seem the way if we were two couples with you.

Dusty diamonds begin to frighten me by their bulk. I am now being sent 42 volumes of the *Girl's Own Annual* and 16 volumes of *Young England*. I must have 30 or more volumes of the *Boy's Own*, plus ✗

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

other serials, complete or incomplete. Quite seriously, with your permission of course, I think I had better make some arrangement with the Beinecke, and store the ~~SECRET~~ periodicals with them. This would give me a little more shelf room (not much alas since so few are now on any shelves at all), and could always be withdrawn as you might want to read them before the fire, or index them.

I enclose an interview with Le Carré which I thought might amuse you. Do not return.

Getting back to a few earlier letters during the week. I agree that Elizabeth S writes a very good letter indeed, one with poise, and with good humor. ... Will begin soon to post directly to the Sesame Club, the length of passage time being so winterly and hence unpredicatable. There is by the way a present embargo on surface mail from the States to England or the continent. Because of the dock strike on this side. The P.O. simply hasn't room to let it pile up. This was the real reason for sending the Brigadier his book by mail, in case the apparent extravagance offends him or you. ... Much pleased that the Boys have their cook, and presumably their chauffeur back again. If I remember the rest of the house staff had not gone, so they are now back at full force. How lucky they are to have a staff; here one can't find them. ... Will you try to see Mrs Packard when you are in England? I cannot quite believe you will go into hiding. O.B.'s Christmas card, mailed December 4 arrived yesterday. ... Do tell Melitta we would love to see her if she wants to stop off en route to Boston, Michael Gough, by the way will be lecturing here on March 5th and will be staying with us. Mary and child may come too but he rather doubts it because of the boy's school. ... It is hard to know just what sort of training Mrs Howard's boys should have before coming out; I suppose any sort of business training or mechanical (even better) would help. One thing is certain, charm alone won't be enough. I wonder if Australia would be a good idea; there, apprenticeship still exists, one gathers, and if they work hard they will go ahead. New Zealand would welcome them but with not much to offer in the way of a red sky at night. I daresay they will snap out of it; it's odd how so often when one makes a path easy, the man on it sometimes forgets some one had to put the path in. ... This was generous of Ashe to put in the good word about Ruan. I must tell Helen. No, I did not send the book to him.

Mrs H is busily typing away at Snowflakes, so we will shortly be ready for whatever you have now been doing. Then I shall have to correct the typescript, but prefer to do this at one full and one hopes consistent swoop.

All my love,

Much intrigued by the decision on "my secret life." What,!
Ask, are "ferverted sexual malpractices?" Do two
negatives make a positive?" That is, are "ferverted practices"
ferverted from "ferverted malpractices"?

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

30 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

Will still risk a few more letters to Kenwin, but with mails

as they are today I shall have to play on the safe side. I may risk one or two letters c/o Ethel but perhaps not many, especially if (as I hope) you pop over to Scilly even for a night in the infirmary. Or of course at the pig-stye.

This has been a wretched winter's day, though not so bad as predicted. One woke this morning to freezing rain and slippery roads. I had taken a sleeping pill last night to avoid the discomfort of turning on my various incisions, but even that drugged condition could not shut out the sound of grinding wheels spinning on the Goodrich Street surface. However if one took care on the road one could drive, and if one took extra care on the sidewalks one could walk. But all schools were closed, there was no morning mail at the HGS, and although Mrs H came in after lunch (and stayed later than usual) the average secretary did not come at all. One worked peacefully, and I finished re-reading Hilda's "The Guest" which had been made apropos by the article on her *Freud*. These two, plus the *Sword* and the trilogy I can now see are very tightly linked. One needs the interval of time in order fully to sense this. And I tidied and paid bills and worked happily in solitude. This afternoon was more disturbed. Somehow there had to be too much consultation, but this time I was more tired, and then the IBM salesman came to discuss the new typewriter. He says 5-7 years is the normal old age; and I have had mine for more than 10. I have chosen a new one which I take to be more or less precisely what I now have. Alas, Mrs H wanted and I should have been amused by the new machine which has insertable cones of type, so keys never stick. But they simply have what they have. And I must have [ ], £, and would be lost without them. Even Mrs H agreed, for she has learned to use £ with alacrity. The newer one has a lighter touch and the like, but we will manage to slog along like old fogies. What with the $100 and a little more I am allowed for the old one, I will be new for a little over $300. And if we no longer lose time while repairs are being made, so much the sooner will the cost be amortized. Three weeks to a month for delivery however.

When I was last at Kenwin you asked me to sell the copy of Franklin's *Animal Magnetism* you had once given Walter. But did not send it over for some six months or so. I apologize now that I delayed in having it appraised. I have written Papantonio (whom you met at Maggs, he has the Seven Gables Bookshop in New York), who replies: "Although we have not found any recent records on the London, 1785 edition of Franklin's *Animal Magnetism* [the first edition is in French the year previous], we should guess that its current retail value is somewhere in the neighborhood of $35.00 to $45.00. If it is something you want to sell, why not send it do wn and we shall see what we can do with it." Normally the mark-up is 100%, so I suppose they would give in the neighborhood of $20.00, or if on consignment give what they get less 10% as credit against the purchase of some B&F from them. Give instructions as to what you want. If sold I will put the money in your savings account or as credit at the Coop as you prefer.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

I wonder if you read in the TLS for 23 January the letter about Swinburne and Mary Gordon, S's cousin whom it is said he once wished to marry. Now it appears that la belle Marie was as addicted to switching as S was, and they must have whipped around a good deal together. Are you sure this didn't go on at Queenwood, between schoolmistresses and their charges? For I have always thought of Queenwood as an orthodoxly proper school where the proper thing would have been done. How otherwise could her girls be expected to go out into the world and take their proper places in it. And I am still tempted by the vision of you whimpering deliciously beneath the penant of Henty's *Egret* while some first mate applied the whip.

Many thanks for your letter of the 27th, and even more thanks for the second letter which contained corrections and additional pages of the manuscript. I should agree with you that the Arctic books could now begin to be lumped, especially because they will be so available to you in that way after the move. Farming books would obviously go to Dean. The Cornwall books might as well stay with Ethel as long as she stays with us. The Brigadier might not want them afterwards, and if Dean leaves Cornwall they will mean nothing to her. You might like those too available on this side. One can see, and they would be missed by Ethel if touched now.

I slept better last night, and have more or less cut out the codeine. The anti-biotics I am supposed to continue simply as a safeguard. Susan is now so well recovered that if she begins again it will be from a new attack rather than a continuation of the old. But she watches exposure in this somewhat cruel and very uncongenial weather.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

31 January 1969

Dearest Fido,

A not very extraordinary day. I began however by entering the answers to the various queries I had made to you about the text of *Snowflakes*, so that is in order for MRs H to type out next week. She is well along, and when everything is done of course I shall have to proof-read. I prefer to do it at one fell swoop so as to keep a firm sense of the continuity.

No letter from you, but a yellowback of a couple of days back I read in order to keep from loneliness. I was of course particularly interested in Kenneth's letters about his improvements at Cetona. The upstairs ceiling I do remember hadn't satisfied them as it was first done, but I gather they are now quite content with Stevens' heaven. This I gather pretty well finishes the rough work upstairs, except for the furniture they need. This I suspect will take time while they haunt antique shops. I slay's account of William's reaction to the migrant polar bear was hilarious. I shall miss the bear from the grooto, where it was a true folly; but the new arrangements I am sure are more artistically appropriate. I wonder when the copy of 'slay's book will come; I ordered it at least a couple of months ago. Fortunately he will not have expected any comment from me on it, so I am not embarrassed on that score. * Robins, I take it, was one of the staff at Renishaw. I liked his letter. * Herring seems to be holding himself in reasonably good check, for his life must be boring in the extreme.

I had a fine long letter about Hilda from Margaret Snively, on receiving the copy of Freud I sent her. It brought back some memories to her. I shall send her a xerox of the Pound tribute and see what she has to say about that. Her brother introduced Pound and Williams to his sister and her friends.

Also a letter from Pickford's came, and I gather that the books are at last on the way. I hope the strike is over before the packages begin to arrive.

I made a special trip to the bank today to deposit your royalty checks from Random House. They must be in my the first of the month in order to get dividends. There was also a check for Hilda, and I transferred to my savings account the amount for Margaret Snively's t.v. We had spoken of taking the money from Hilda's savings to use for the letters I bought from Hildegard and the lot from the dealer. But this seemed too bad to use her money that way, so I paid for them myself. That is now long since. Your account now stands at $22,243.78, but about 3,000 will come out in April for last year's taxes. Hilda's is $1,503.07.

Most of the day I have been going over Hilda's papers to see if there isn't something I can pull out and let the Wisconsin magazine have. On Monday I have promised to devote the day to being interviewed on her. One tries.

All love, Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

1 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

It has been half raining, half snowing all day--but more rain
than snow so there will be little or nothing to shovel. All is so gloomy
that I stopped at the florist's on my way back from Johnson's Point this
noon and bought a plant of yellow crysanthemums for Mrs H's office (I sit
there to type when she isn't on duty) and a spray of them for a bud vase
on my desk. This helps a little, perhaps not quite enough.

My trip to the shore was for a meeting of the Johnson's
Point Association, newly formed to hold roadways and other land in common
at the shore. Fortunately I am no more than one of the two directors in
addition to three officers who manage. This was for the formulation of
by-laws. One of the officers is a lawyer, another a banker. So we are
well advised. My own suggestions were well received, and so I felt in
no way humiliated.

No letter from you today either, but two yellowbacks came and
have entertained me. I was much interested in Chris's letter. Do you have
his new Copenhagen address? Why don't you flip up for a few days? I
should think it might be fun, and he and his parents would much enjoy
having you there. * Interested in Sir Ronnie's address. We would only
use Professor while we actually held the post or were emeriti. * Most
grateful for Jackson's letter to Philip. Jackson never did write to me
after setting the price. * Aurelia favored you with a copy of the program.
Thank you for sending. I will add to the collection. * Am pleased that
the Goughs liked Toronto so much. I should think it would be an Edinburgh
type of city and thus very much to their taste. But I suspect they get
along well wherever. * As always I am breathless when I have finished a
letter from Barbara Jordan. But I imagine she is skilled in spinning talk,
from having to entertain her mother.

I don't think I spoke of the talk last Sunday on Greenland and
especially Brattahlid, at the Colony Historical Society. And really there
isn't much to say, for you know it all already. I did however have a
somewhat different angle in leading up to the restoration and its example
in setting the cue for Gardar and Hvalsey. In that it seems to have been
successful. I have heard nothing at all during the Fall, and in my Christmas
letters asked what was up. I must say they are casual, or I might better
say archaeological--for no archaeologist really likes to write anything up.
The Goughs are somewhat the exception.

I was phoned Wednesday morning, I think it was, by a New York
lawyer to say that Josephine Herbst had died. Of lung cancer. She smoked
endlessly when I was with her a month or two ago. Smoked and drank, although
she wasn't drunk. Probably drank simply to keep going. I am glad all
arrangements had been concluded for her papers to come to Yale.

Norman MacLoud, the proletarian novelist, has been giving what is
left of his papers to Yale, and fastened on me as his correspondent. He writes

c

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

compulsively. Says he has had a long period in analysis and sounds it. But
has managed to pull himself together and rid himself of alcoholism and keep
a job in a dinky Southern college. Which all things considered is mighty
good going for the course. One of the books by him which Yale lacks (we have
most) is his *The Bitter Roots*, a novel in the 30's. You have a copy, and
I wondered if I might not give it to Yale in your name for his collection?
I wait your instructions, and of course will do only as you wish.

Allen Dulles, the former head of CIA has died. A rather nice man
who hardly looked the part, and often didn't act it either. I remember
co complaints coming in during the war when he was visiting London, that he
had been talking rather too loudly and freely in a restaurant. But in
Switzerland he made a good father figure for the Japs and Germans to come
to.

Will rush out to post this, and then back to letters to free Mrs
H so that she can concentrate on *Snowflakes*. I risk one more letter to
Kenwin, and then try a couple to *Zurich*.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

2 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

The sun is almost out this afternoon, and it is again a little like spring. I only hope such weather goes with you to Cornwall and the Scillies. But this morning was still overcast and icy and I doubt very much if the groundhog was able to see his shadow. Only future weather will tell us whether he did or did not.

I have been plugging away at letters rather more diligently than before. That is, I have actually been doing the typing and not simply the dictation. For I want Mrs H tomorrow to begin working on nothing but the ms of *S nowflakes*; she will be all right, but business letters have rather interrupted her. But I like her doing it, especially when it has come in piecemeal as this time. It is the only way I can keep track of what is, or has happened.

I think I told you I had had a fine letter from Margaret Pratt about Hilda and the Freud tribute. Her only surprise was at the grief Hilda showed for the death of her brother in the war. She had been with Hilda at the time, and thought she herself grieved more than Hilda did. Perhaps the sense of shock and loss came later. Today I have packed up a xerox copy of the Pound book to send for comment. It was Margaret's brother who introduced Ezra to the girls.

We have been active of nights. Thursday night, as I think I wrote, we went to something called *Story Theater* in which by half-mime they did Grimms fairy tales. It was gay, and even with all the underlying cruelty in fairy stories they seemed lighthearted when compared to the daily newspapers. Friday night we went to the Lippards, he was Dean of the Yale Medical School, and gets around the world a good deal. A psychiatrist and Russian-born wife (a Dutchwoman) were interesting; and there was a nice older fellow I know, Serge Chermayeff, an archietct, city designer and designer of furniture also there, with his British wife, so there was much good conversation. Last night John Pope and his wife came for dinner and bridge. He had spent the afternoon doing more final touches to his carved chest.

I was saddened this noon to have a telephone to say that my old friend Wallace Notestein, the English parliamentary historian had died last night. Old that in November he said to me at lunch that if he could live until the first of December he would be ninety and have finished the index of his final book. Then, he said, I hope I die quickly; I have had some heart attacks, I may be lucky. It is a little as though he willed himself to lie just as Mrs Macpherson willed herself to die. And when Notestein's goal had been reached there was no point in keeping on with the race. He was married to Ada Notestein who was President of Radcliffe College, and it was she who had us phoned. Notestein lived in the same apartment house that I did before either of us were married. He used to come each night at 11, after his parties to tell the gossip he had learned. And as a Sterling Professor he had learned a lot. "You know of course," he would begin, and I would gravely nod my head. "Good," he would say, "I thought so, otherwise I wouldn't have wanted to say anything." And on he would go. In the end of course I did know, so in the long run there was no lie, and I consoled my sense of honor.

Tomorrow's letter if it gets written (a man comes to interview me on Hilda) will go to the Glock.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

3 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I hadn't been sure whether I could squeeze in a letter today or not. But I can, even though it may not be much of a letter. The poor surgeon was in such a rush to get off to a lecture he was to give that (I can think of no better reason) he decided once I was on the table not to remove the stitches until Friday. However he put on much smaller dressings, said that it was a very good idea that at least one of the rempvals had been made, mucked me over with some evil-smelling antiseptic and then sent me back out into the snowstorm.

The weather has been foul, alternating driving rain with drizzle and then with sleet and finally snow, though that has ceased for the moment. On going back to my car at the doctor's I found a wonderfully angry letter from a man who says I removed paint from his fender in parking. But how? Surely I would have known if I touched, and if paint was removed from him wouldn't it have been transferred to me? I can find not a trace and wonder if it wasn't someone else who had meanwhile come and gone after he settled himself. But the letter I must copy for you:

Dear Sir:

You scratched too much paint from my fender with
your careless parking attempt.

I suggest you learn how to park!

I also suggest you send me $15 to cover the damages.

You can be thankful [sic] I am not as careless as you
and resisted the strong temptation to gauge your nice new car on
my way out.

I really can't believe I could do it without knowing I had, or without
leaving some trace. I'll give it to my insurance people tomorrow.

The early morning and then the rest of the day was spent with
the Professor Dembo, from Wisconsin, who is editing the H.D. issue of their
magazine. He wanted to tape one of these now-popular interviews (of the
*Paris Review* sort), this time on H.D. and her poetry. I had said I didn't
have time to write a long article. So after going over various matters
about the articles, and giving him the possibility of a few unpublished
early poems to print, a couple of excerpts from later sequences, and a
chapter from "T he Gift", and lunch, (he came up from New York and
flies tomorrow to London) he got out his machine, asked questions and
I answered. Naturally I get the chance to edit the text. He seemed
pleased with the results; I myself fear it may be all too fatuous. You
can judge later when it is published.

Your two letters of January 30th were in the late afternoon mail, so there was something after last week's wait. I was grateful for the two final pages to XI. The final para for page 6 actually was included on my copy, but in recopying yours you evidently rewrote it for a number of the words differ. I will take the final copy as being closer to your final

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

intention.

I was delighted to learn that the Coigny pet may have only lumbago, though there would have been a day when lumbago was bad enough.

I suspect, apropos of the paperback *Roman Wall* that it is not sexy enough for the regular paperback market. And those who buy it prefer the better hardbound edition since it is still a remarkable bargain.

The possibility of a buyer for Kenwin is of course of the greatest excitement. And one naturally hopes that there isn't too much land for the man to feel he can take on tax-wise. But I am glad you balk at taking a flat there yourself. It would be too agnozing.

I spoke with Horace on the phone yesterday. He had had a letter from the president of Sarah Lawrence College asking if he could nominate some poet to be on their staff (and if Black then so much the better). Horace was shocked, since poetry (he says) has no color line. But today everything has. He was full of theories about the Black revolt, but they seemed a little remote even if emenating from Patrick.

Mrs H worked all today on the ms and must be making progress. We will be up to date in a day or so and ready for the last two chapters whenever you have finished them.

I risk this and perhaps one other to the Glock. Then Sesame. Greet Joan for me and congratulate her on the wonderful photo of the ranch she used for her Christmas greetings.

All love. Hope you room is warm,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 H G S

6 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

The appearance of this letter will certainly be wild. It is done on the machine borrowed from IBM until the new one arrives, an event not likely to occur before another month. Meanwhile Mrs H became so nervous as still more parts broke down that I thought it wisest to hire a replacement. I daresay I will get used to it but at the moment I am still frightened to death.

I failed to write you either yesterday or the day before, so there was not the little pile for you at the Glock I had hoped for. I only hope that these will reach you while you are still at the Sesame. Tuesday afternoon I had my seminar, followed by a faculty meeting at four which I had to leave early, in order to rush home, dress and go to a dinner party for the 75th anniversary of the New Haven Symphony. We had four guests to complete our table, they returned to the house afterwards for a drink/amd as a consequence we were not in bed until two. Yesterday afternoon after my seminar I had to rush to the gym for a conference between my therapist at the hospital and the therapists at the gym while they arranged exercises for me to do (they would wish daily) at the gymnasium. This was fine except that the representative from the hospital was a half-hour late, and so I had no time to write you when I came back to the office to pick up my things for the night. I do apologize.

By the end of the week I may have caught up with the wonderful flood of letters from you (though today there was nothing). I did devour them after several days of silence, and they have been coming in batches of three and four. But most of all I was made happy by being put at ease. As of Monday I had had a series of letters up to 27 January, and then they skipped to Jan 30th. What terrified me was that on the 30th you send pages 6 of Chap XI, and in your second letter part of that date you sent p 7. Yet I lacked pages 4 and 5. I sat down in terror to see if I had mislaid these two intervening pages, and finally hit on the hope that they might have been in letters for the 28th or 29th. On Monday afternoon your letter of the 29th arrived with nothing in it. Then — and I sank to my knees in thanks — giving on Tuesday your letter of the 27th came with the two missing pages enclosed.

Since then of course I have had all but two missing pages from Chapter XII and am well trained not to be frightened.

I fancy that the gaps have been pretty well closed. On Tuesday and Wednesday I received, to sum up, your letters of the 28th, 29th, 31st, (two), 1st (two), and 3rd. Perhaps one from the 2nd will eventually arrive, but it did not today at any rate.

To return to them, the biggest event of course, except for your novel, is the possibility of a purchaser for Kenwin. I am particularly glad that you have Ruegg and Maitre Coigny to handle matters for you. With us, such purchasers' usually want only large old houses at bankrupt prices; therefore

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN • CONN.

acquire valuable land which they can hang on to until they
can dispose of to their immense advantage. But Coigny
knows the situation and what best to advise.

The matter of the South of France is somewhat
complicated by a letter today from Philip (just as I was
about to call our agent and tell him to cancel Nice on
the basis of your information (I was surprised to learn you
had written Philip to say you couldn't manage France since
he had told you he wouldn't be there), when in the mail
came a letter from Philip saying that he would indeed be there
and would be so happy to have the three of us would send
directions etc. I daresay you will be seeing him anyhow in
London and can decide whether you really want to see his place
or not. I shall discuss tonight but suspect that if he is
to be there we may simply continue with our plans as before.
If you decide you do want to see his chateau you will naturally
come. Actually it comes down to that, so don't worry about
whether you must be at Kenwin or not. We could go over many
matters in the South of France if you did come; we can go
over them later if you don't. And I can find out from
Philip where the smart place in Nice to go is, and we can
get a room for you there so you won't lose caste. If you did
come to Nice to see Philip and Romaine you would have had
from the first week of March to the 23rd in which to fetch
the Tiger AND GET HER COMFORTABLY RE_SETTLED. (the caps
were the result of my unfamiliarity with this machine, not
my excitement or desire for emphasis.) Glad you liked the
newest issue of the Yale French Studies even if not France.
They really do do a good job.

The Bowen book got a fairly good press here, but so far as communist pressure on the reviewers in concerned as being in this case you must remember that Pup was lukewarm about it on her letter to you. I'm neutral. not having had time to read it yet.

So far as the Ballantyne affair is concerned I had
a long letter from Quayle yesterday. I wonder if this is just
coincidence? He speaks of holding the duplicate copies of
Ballantyne until I pay him a visit in Zennor where he now
lives (shades of Hilda). But I doubt I should go that far
for him, though I might for Ethel and the Brigadier, or
for Lady V.

I also had a delightful letter from Kenneth thanking
for clippings I sent him about the Bug. He was in his best
epistolary form. He gave urgent requests that we swing by
La Vagnola, but of course we are coming this time to see you, and
it may be a last time for Kenwin.

I do hope nothing went wrong with your taking
the Tiger to her sanitarium. It was rather like settling Elsie et
Mammamá. I forgot to ask for the Tiger's address so that I
could send bunches of dried herbs and beef tidbits. If you were to
cable me there still might be time. And I'd love to send her a card
or two, although I know she's rather frightened of males.

You spoke of your final trip to the States as

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

proudly living by sea.

I should think this would make very good sense indeed. Especially with personal good and the like which would take forever to travel unescorted..

You speak of younger people not buying the paperbacks of Roman Wall. Normally the books they buy are only paperback, and school lists are almost exclusively that. In your case I think it's because the hardcover edition is so very little more than the paperback, only a few cents really.

What a maddening experience reading this letter will have been. Everything is in a different spot on this machine. But I daresay I will have gotten used to it just as I am told to shift back to the new edition of the old model.

All love to yourself, greetings to the bar-maid and doormen at the Sesame, and to anyone you first see in town before setting off for Ethel. Do have a good time. You have worked like a fiend and deserve a good stretch in the sun.

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

8 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

The borrowed machine did such skipping about on me in my

last letter to you that I now substitute the old one for the new until the
replacement comes and I can learn-in on what is permanently here. You may
continue to get a hop-skip-and-jump from the keys but at least I won't be
in a state of nervous tension.

I failed to write yesterday, mostly because Mrs H stayed a
little while over her limit in order to finish the last of the chapters
we have, except for XII which misses the two pages you were going to take
with you to work on. I think she, as I did, was pleased to feel she had
caught up. As a result I have dictated a couple of tapes already for her-
today.

By the time she had left it was time for me to go to the
surgeon's, and I am glad to say that this time he took the stitches out.
I am permitted no bath until tomorrow, but what a good feeling it will
be to have contact with running water again. He seemed to think I had
made good progress, and I have only one more series to go through after
we return from Switzerland.

Now to return to affairs. I enclose a copy of Philip's
letter. As you know I had written him before your letter came saying
he had said he wouldn't be there. But having written I couldn't simply
write and back out, in case his plans had for one reason or another been
shifted. My original purpose in going was your desire to see the chateau
while you were still a resident abroad, your plan to have gone with Elsie,
and your plan last winter to run to see Romaine Brook, with the Boys. Per-
haps you may change your mind and feel that this is a good chance to make
a quick visit without being tied down to a weekend with Philip. If you did,
we could have tea with Romaine on the Monday afternoon when we should be
going to Philip. He will be disappointed of course if you feel you don't
want to go, but I am sure will understand. You could even go back to
Geneva on the Tuesday and therefore be a day ahead, not needing actually to
meet us at the 'eneva airport, especially if we had had the chance for
talks in Nice. Philip can help you find another hotel than the Negresco,
and certainly the one nearby Romain was excellent, even if a little incon-
venient for restaurants, taxis etc.

I also enclose for your amusement a copy of Kenneth's letter,
which was beautifully phrased as always. Some day we shall certainly want
to revisit Cetona, but not this time. I am only sorry that the confusion of
plans, vis-a-vis Nice, has shortened the time in Kenwin. I shall need to
take one morning out for a visit with Fides; but do not see why one need
lunch this time. One hopes that Maitre Coigny will also be available.

Your letters of the 3rd, 4th and 5th came yesterday, and so
of course nothing this morning. I am fascinated by the adventures with the
possible purchasers of Kenwin, but am a little dubious as to whether they
can raise the sum that Ruegg quite knowledgeably thinks is appropriate and
necessary. * I am instructed about the Mesmer book and will save for you
to take back. I am somewhat doubtful about prices being higher in England,
for dealers like Papantonio deal back and forth between the two sides as
if they were really one market. But you can ask Maggs if you go in. I
don't know who else to turn to for bigger prices. * I wonder if you will

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

get to see the Stables researcher. It would be fun if you did, and she
might turn out to be pal. * As to Pickfords, I'm sorry about all the bad
reports your friends send; we can only pray, and be glad that there really
isn't anything breakable. This possibly may be an easier shipping job than
many one could think of where glass is concerned or furniture could be
chipped or scratched. * I am glad you got the Tiger to her Mammon. Who
knows she may have an affair with a monkey. As for the passionate male
lemur which is desired, I could not quite tell from your letter whether
this was for Mme Wyss or the other monkeys. One pictures Mme Wyss as a
kind of modern Mrs Swiss Family Robinson, happier when in a tree.

I think I told you I had a splendid letter from the Brigadier,
a real pleasure to read. I am only sorry I can't see him oftener. You
will of course give them both our love, and our warmest greetings to Lady
V if you deign to squeeze lemon into tea with her.

We have guests for tonight, and tomorrow I must be back at my
desk again. Last night we had a small dinner party and then went to the
second Assembly of the season. (I had missed the first when I was in Texas).
I danced some and Susan danced a great deal, twirling about with great
style.

Have a pink gin in my memory at the Sesame bar.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

11 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I have only a few minutes between my seminar and the thw meeting of the English Department. I can at least write a note by which to report in. I did come to the office for a moment yesterday, Susan sitting in the car alongside the high drifts of snow along the sidewalks. There had been no mail delivered at all, and indeed today for one reason or another there seemed to be little. Only your letter of the 6th came in, and almost nothing else in the way of American letters. Naturally I hope you have luck with the remaining pages of Snowflakes. Part of what I picked up last night was Mrs H's typescript copy of your own typescript and I managed to correct three chapters before going to bed. I notice that you began by calling Laurent and his sister in law by the family name of Perrin, but in C h apter Twelves, at least, you have renamed them Perrot. I shall watch for this and see where the change occurs. We will have to determine which one of you wish to sticky by, and then change both her name and his to the winning version.

I am pleased for Ines's sake that the strike in Italy is over. I do hope she has decent weather for her holiday, although I am sure that simply being home will be enough to make her happy. I am sorry that Tiger frets. Do you think shifting her to a larger kennel would help. I know it did for Elsie.

We really did have a storm of it, and getting about the streets is most difficult. Especially in the illainous are the cars that people parked or rather abandoned in mid-street. Th is is locked the plows, put wide margins around them and makes it impossible to pass cars as one proceeds. We have had no papers now for a couple of days, but I imagine all; this will shortly be rectified.

Lalei : Too late.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

14 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I can only send you the poorest of Valentines, and one which will reach you only long after the event. The week has been so confused because of its beginnings in storm and gales that I have hardly broken even with the chores of daily life. And with an anthology due at the end of the month, my rewritten Australian address, and a talk at the Grolier Club on Tuesday night, and my sister and her husband coming tomorrow for the weekend, I can hardly dare face the next few days. I shall have to munch tranquilizers.

I have had to skip a goodly number of letters to you, and indeed until midweek we had almost no mail at all, the airports being mostly cold. From you, as of this Friday afternoon, have come a last letter one guesses from Kenwin on the 6th, an undated letter from the Glock on your arrival, and one on the 10th from the Sesame Club. Whether you wrote more of course I don't know, for you certainly seemed to have a full schedule and it was hardly a wonder that you could not manage the two missing pages from Chapter Twelve.

I am sad but not surprised at the unlikelihood that the man will buy Kenwin to reconvert. This sort of thing is usually done only to give-aways sold by estates which want to unload in order to settle the accounts. * Your Stables researcher does seem to have an eye, in having run down a modern Gordon. I wonder what she will discover? * Poor Tiger. Perhaps now that you are out of Switzerland she will settle down. I hope they send you bulletins. * I was pleased you saw the Museum of Modern Art show at the Kunsthaus, and hope it did the New York museum credit. * Susan and I agree that you win a blue ribbon for the clipping on the connoisseur of gum. It was splendid in every way, and will be preserved.

The streets here begin to be shovelled out, but everyone drives through narrow lanes between snowbanks, just misses scraping fenders (poor young Susan slid into the back of a car and damaged both it and her own). The days have been sunny however even though cold, and the snow settles down in the drifts, fostering rivulets down the hillside roads and along the sidewalks. A damaged chair from my office has been repaired but I cannot get near enough the front of the Graduate School to deliver it back.

Justus had his 11th birthday on Tuesday, and happily schools were closed for the first two days of the week because of the snow, and the third because of Lincoln's birthday (the Blacks now want Martin Luther King's assassination day made a national holiday. "Certainly he was as great as Lincoln! What did Lincoln do for us?"). I gave him my stamp collection, and he seemed to understand the symbolic significance. "Think of it," he told Lizzie; "He saved it all these years and then he gave it to me." He had a model engine for his train set, and so was well pleased with the world's benevolence.

The world closes in on one in a snowstorm, and I seem strangely out of news. I have finished reading all of the transcripts of *Snowflakes*.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

15 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I have only this morning at the office, and so waited until
after the mail had been delivered to see if by some chance any overdue
missives might have arrived. There was nothing, but there will have been
so many silent days to you that I cannot weep from frustration. I do
hope you have had decent weather in England. The Scillies, even Cornwall,
must be truly uncomfortable in gales. Still daffodils will almost have
come out on St Mary's.

My sister and brother-in-law arrive some time about noon.
Susan will phone when they do and I will try home for lunch. We have
not had them down for years, and so when a new musical was to open to-
night it seemed a good excuse. My sister accepted eagerly but they
leave promptly after breakfast tomorrow to go to Gardner and then right
on, with new suitcases, to Boston where they fly to the Caribbean for
a holiday in the sun. I almost envy them, not so much for the sun as
for the rest. I really do feel tired.

I watched a Yale-Princeton basketball game last night on
t.v., not because I am a basketball fan but simply for a change of pace.
Yale lost but played well, I thought. Then I settled in to go over old
notes from years ago, on Melville. Just possibly, I thought, I might be
able to use niblets. I think I can. I read a long report on Melville
I did in the early 30's on Melville, for Ralph Gabriel who used it in
his book. It also converted Stanley Williams, the American literature
professor here whose long string of graduate students turned out a long
string of dissertations on Melville. I wonder what would have happened
had the war not turned my path somewhat, and if I had not become so
interested in helping people to develop and less impressed by the sheer
output of scholarly and critical articles. I should of course have be-
come more academically respectable, but I would have been a different
person and I suspect less of a person. Anyhow I am not sorry my life
developed as it has.

The Co-op statement is in. Two orders were filled, which
I'm not sure I recall. One for $10.56, another for 7.23; these were per-
haps the books I ordered for Wipf. At any rate your account is now at
40.38 credit which is a sufficiency for the nonce.

R.G.Booth Bookseller has written again, offering four more
volumes of *Boys Own Annual*, and thirteen volumes of *Young England*. I have
ac tually made arrangements with the Beinecke Library, not to give them all
periodicals but to deposit all I have there for storage. Althogether there
will be 150-200 of these massive tomes, and it becomes patently impossible
to store them either at the office or at Goodrich Street. My suits are
falling apart at the seams; I don't want the house to do the same.

Will write again tomorrow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

16 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

Thank the Lord, the dockworkers' strike was settled yesterday so far as New York is concerned. 56 days of it, with nothing in the way of surface-sent material (including mail) coming in. There is such a backlog to be unloaded that one will not feel the release for some time. But Mrs H can mail out some packages to Europe tomorrow, all postal shipments having been refused for over a month. And eventually I expect there will be a flood of books of one sort or another from England, and eventually the Henty packages may begin to arrive. Yellowbacks also.

Two recently mailed yellowbacks did come on Friday, and I expect you must have sent by airmail, or the Swiss suddenly have begun to send regular mail that way just to get rid of it. I find Rosemary's letters rather sad, in a sentimental way at least. How much she has been robbed of in the way of experience. Though I daresay she has been given other sensitivities not available to hoi polloi. I was amused by Bryan's letter in which one could feel a brotherly rivalry to Alan's natural boasting of his success with the company. Actually it is too bad Bryan hasn't found a research topic, and this may be a significant sign that he won't cotton to a life in a lab. This would be worth finding out. The letters from Mary Hotson were interesting; they are the only way one would know about them. Their friends must be altogether new ones, for they have dropped the Brookses and the church they once had in common. Mary and Leslie gave an ultimatum to the Brookses to leave the church with them or no longer be friends in the old way. But they are happy and I am glad that the new, or present, book goes on developing so well. It will be interesting to see what he has managed to keep running down, to occupy him so long on it. Sometimes I wonder if he doesn't rather dread than relish the eventual publication, because almost more depends on its acceptance by scholars in terms of Leslie as a person than Leslie as himself a scholar. One thing I am sure of, the book will be fascinating to read.

My sister and her husband actually didn't arrive until five-thirty yesterday afternoon. Susan and I gave up at two p.m., and she cooked the filet of sole just for us. I napped and then read in the volume of Melville's letters. He worked that morning at the store, and Eleanor apparently didn't understand. One couldn't press the point. I took them to Mory's for dinner, and then to the theatre, a musical comedy, 1776, on the Continental Congress and the drafting of the Declaration of Independence. It was rather more interesting than one would have thought, and serious rather than spoofing. The reviews had said the first act was good, the second dragging. Since this is the first week of rehearsals (they were letter perfect in their roles) the producers solved the problem wonderfully. They simply eliminated the intermission. Therefore there was no second act to drag. My sister collated the program with her memories of the show, afterwards, and found out they had eliminated one or two scenes. One or two more could at least be snipped away at.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

19 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

Altho busy I seem not to have accomplished very much lately,
but at least as of last night my Grolier Club talk is done. I had a seminar
until 3:30, then dashed back to the typewriter and desperately arranged some
notes to guide me, and then back to Goodrich Street to change into my dinner
jacket. The limousine I had ordered (one could order no less) arrived
promptly at 5, and a few minutes later I was enroute to East 60th St. What
a car! I had been in nothing like it. Behind my glass section was my two-
seater seat, and facing me was a bar (with a t.v. available although I
didn't know this until too late) plus two large chairs facing in my direction.
Of course I couldn't confer with myself, but I did go over my notes once
again, and then take a nap, and arrived at the Club a moment after 7:00.
I looked at the show for a minute (it was spectacularly full of rare Melville
books and manuscripts, but rather drably mounted as a display) and then went
on to an excellent restaurant, Clos Normand, on East 52nd Street where they
had a small dinner party for me, and which I recommend. Reasonable on New
York terms, and excellent veal for me and tripe for those who like tripe. I
am glad to say that the program ("Guests but not including ladies") seemed
to go off well, and the applause was more than my talk warranted. Some
day God will withdraw his protection from me. There isn't much new one can
say about Melville even on the 150th anniversary of his birth; for one ought
to speak greatly of a great man, and the words have been used up long since.
However I did tag on a bit about Melville as a poet whose distinction was
just beginning to emerge, read them three poems from the Civil War period
plus his "Billy in the Darbies" and in that way exposed them to fresh facets.
The car of course waited for me as well as took me about New York, and we
left for home at 10:30, getting to the house after delivering two Yale librarians
who rode back with me, at a little after 12:30. I was tired this morning
but think what it would have been had I had to come home by train on the 1
o'clock.

Yesterday brought a plenty of letters from you all in one swoop
of postal wings. One of the 8th, from Zurich, of the 9th also from Zürich, the 11th
from London (two). Naturally I was overjoyed to have the letter of the 8th
with the two missing pages from the last chapter. Mrs Hamerman is now typing
up the chapter, and we will be ready for the missing one when you are able to
complete it. I should doubt however that you could type it on your knees at
the Sesame, or were likely to have had free time and desk chez Ethel. Do not
worry; when the time comes it will come. It was good to hear good news of
Joan, and I am delighted you could have had so much time with her. She needs
older company, no just your kind of company (which has nothing to do with age).
I am only sorry there was no flick that appealed. I sympathized with you in
your Zurich struggle with snow, but sympathized even more with the chill of the
Sesame. If only the English would install electric heating units; they
operatemoreswiftlyand

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

(at that point the old machine stopped, so I am forced
into this jig with the new one. Mme, I crave your indulgence
for my errors.)

more safely. I always fear asphyxiation from
gas -- foolish I know. What a pity the Wipf couldn't have
seen the Kunsthalle show. If anything ever happens to the
knight, I think you must take the wipf to your bosom. She
needs someone who has enough understanding to take her
away from the valley occasionally. * What a pity it is
that Joan and Susan have never met. It would be great
fun to have her at Kenwin while we are over. Is there no
bed in Elsie's old room? I would not mind using a sleeping
bag on the floor, you know. * One is almost sorry that
you found a new presumably all-black ribbon for your type-
writer. The red was wonderfully gay. Here I simply buy
all-black ribbons and would think this made more sense
for you! * Your story of Scott Adie prices seems typical
of what is happening the world over. As you know I cannot
wear anything but tailor-made suits because of my back. It as
not so long ago that these cost $125.00 for a two-piece
outfit. I have just had to get a new brown suit to re-
place one ten years old; it cost me $350.00 But all
this means far more significantly to the majority. It is
only that one wishes one's pay could be raised as theirs is.
* No I think I finally had allademur letters, but at
the beginning I had not received those which carried an
explanation of the request. You haven't said what you
carry back to the Tiger on her return from the sanatorium.
I muse on what you will finally choose; it will be a
choice choice I am certain.

Today your first Tergoning letter, of the 13th,
arrived -- in remarkably swift time I thought, all snowbanks
considered. You did well to survive your train trip down
which must have been far more uncomfortable than your
loyalty to the crown permitted you to express. But where
did you ever get hold of the manuscript you write about
reading? Is it by some friend of Ethel, or of the Brigadier
at the White Hart? I gather that his affairs with
young boys and with mothering females was before the
accident rather than afterwards. I daresay the novel pro-
vides a surrogate eroticism for him now. But where did
you get it? What an extraordinary schedule you had
while you followed your leaders. But I shall be excited
to hear about each. If you see Philip tell him that I
discovered from a man at the Grolier Club that Quayle
had apparently sold the remaining Ballantyne mss (much less
than half of the luterary ones, but many family documents)
and these are now being peddled in the States for $20,000.
So the Ballantyne daughter will have only slight chance
of getting anything back, I should think, even were she to
deserve them.

All love, as always
Zusammen

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

20 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I began the day by picking up the repaired chair for my office, depositing it at the office, and then going on to the hospital for some tests wanted in connection with the checkup for my emphysema. Apparently all that was needed was a substantial flow of blood, somehow related to a determination of the gaseous content of the blood. A doctor had to draw this out, and prepared for the operation by injecting vast quantities of novacaine. This was just as well, for he was from Iraq and went at my arm as though on a border raid.

I forgot to tell you that on the ride back from New York I had an account of the Yale librarian's visit to Jean Starr last Saturday. She is about to give up her apartment and move to a quasi-nursing home in New Jersey (?), and so wants to give the greater part of her library to the collection she established in memory of the son who committed suicide as a freshman at Yale. This time she wants some 2,500 volumes brought up. I hadn't realised that she had a boyfriend much in the order of Faith Compton Mackenzie's. This is a youngish Pole, good looking and very attentive to her. Apparently this has been going on for a long time. You were naughty to keep this from me.

Speaking of Mackenzie, do you think I should read his Octave 8 of the memoirs? It goes from 1939-1946, the war years, when I met him through you. Or perhaps you have it and I can glance at it when I am in Kenwin. I know you've understandably dropped him because of his treatment of Faith. But since he fits into the memoirs I thought perhaps your sense of scholarship might lead you to this book. Or, buy it and then ship on to me.

Your letters of the 15th and 18th came today as from Tregonning. What awfully bad luck with the weather you had; it may make Switzerland more bearable. I think you must plan to get back to Cornwall later in the spring. In any event you needed a change and some company at this very moment. And you have had that! I am very sorry indeed about the Close Up matter. I will try to speak to the lawyer tomorrow on the phone.

He has been remiss on a number of scores. But I have been unable to be in New York except once that year. I was naturally glad to see from Pup's letter that there would be no overlap of our visits. This will give you more freedom to concentrate on each set of visitors.

I enclose a rather moving clipping from the Bücher trial. This trial will become a part of America's emotional history. without any doubt. It will be debated over and over again in histories, novels and the drama.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

@L

21 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I live always in two worlds, the time when your letters
were written (which is always the past) and the imagined world of what
you are doing at the time I write to you. As

of today you are
settled in the Sesame, but as of the 16th when you wrote the letter
which came today, you were huddling with Ethel and the Brigadier
at Trenoweth. You had an adventure but I wish you might have had a
little more of a holiday. (How I loathe this machine and wish the
replacement for the other would arrive!).

There is little to write. I was quietly at home last night
and read papers brought back from the office. Tonight we go out to
dinner at friends (it is our wedding anniversary, though we plan noth-
ing special except the spring trip which you have made possible by your
Christmas gift). Today at the office I have seen a few students
and spent my time otherwise reading the graduate term papers for the
first half of this academic year. Three more to go and then that
will be finished.

I enclose another of the Pueblo clippings. I shall not try to keep you in with all of them, but I shudder at the humiliation these men feel, stripped of all the clichés of behavior. Also a clipping about the Arctic which I send to you as an old arctic bufff.

Oh yes, I ought to report that last night I read the
completed typescript of Chapter Twelve. I will go through it all
on one run-through when the missing chapter has been completed. This
helps me to pick up any inconsistencies. Or other queries.

A yellowback found its way in. Many thanks for the
Stables letters How sad it is that Mrs Page is slipping. But she
is fortunate to have Miss Pilgrim to look after her.

Isabel Wilder is back from her usual Christmas month
abroad with her brother. This time it was in Paris. She reports
Paris as gloomy indeed, hardly anyone in the hotels, hotel dining
rooms often closed. Little in the shops and for the first time
almost nothing was up in the way of Christmas decorations. Thornton
as you know is always on the road. From France he goes back to Austria,
then to Italy for awhile, and finally on to the West Indies. He has
a summer home on Martha's Vineyard now, so spends a part of the
time in America, at least. He is now at work on his memoirs,
although lately (except for the huge novel) he has finished almost
nothing.

I was much interested in Temple Smith's plans. Like
the way the English specify, "can, with a female assistand..."
We would hardly specify an assistand otherwise than as an assistand.

All love, a good luck in London.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

22 Feb. 1969

Dearest Fido,

We were promised snatches of sun today, but there
have been none. Nor was there any letter from you in the post
to serve as surrogate. Actually the only mail must have been
remnants from yesterday, for this being Washington's birthday
the post office proper is closed. Yale observes no holidays
ever, and today is Alumni Day. I paid my respects by going
to the Graduate School Alumni meeting this morning, but skipped
the lunch and will also skip the symposium this afternoon. I
simply have far too much to do.

I did however this morning, before the meeting
finish the last of my graduate school seminar papers; and can
hand the grades in on Monday. Next in order is to rewrite the
speach I gave in Australia so that I can send it as promised
to Melbourne. And then by the end of next week I must have
begun and finished an anthology of poems published in the Wesleyan
Series of which I was a founding editor.

Yesterday I forgot to mention that, in response
to your comment in your letter of the 16th from Tregoning,
all of your books are in print, including *Gate to the Sea*.
Perhaps the English edition is no longer available, but there
are plenty of American ones available. I think we sent these to
Ethel so there would be copies for you to hand around as the
occasion warranted.

I enclose a notice of this year's science fiction
summer school. Who knows, once Kenwin is disposed of you may
want to enroll. I wonder who your schoolchums would turn out to
be.

We were out last night to dinner for a visiting
professor from Rochester who is here to speak at the forum this
afternoon. He is the one who persuaded Rochester to take over
the financing of *Adam*. He stopped in this morning to report
(tho I beg you not to pass anything along) that they have had
nothing but headaches. There was an issue (on Jerusalem) last
October, and nothing since. The next to be on Simenon. But
the treasurer of the university wants to know when it appears,
thinking of the $10,000 a year salary. They also said they would
subsidize each year up to $15,000. Grindea expects this to be paid
out @ $3,500 a quarter but will give them no accounts. Says
Rochester is not advertising him enough, is not giving him
proper secretarial help (tho he never had any before at all), etc
etc. Originally he was to have moved to this side; now they
want him to stay home except for a couple of visits on business,
each year. He says they should fly his wife over. I feel
reasonably certain that once the three years are up, Rochester
will back out. I personally would back out after three days.
As you know, I refused to serve on his board of editors.

Hope your weaher in London is better than this

Cornwall.

All love

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

Sunday, 23 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I phoned Horace this noon and he told me it was
snowing there. Undoubtedly it will here as well, but it is now
past 4 p.m. and only dark skies have persisted. Snow would make
the ground cleaner but the going tougher.

I continue to take my chances with the Sesame, and
will go on doing so until I have had a London letter with some
idea of whether you stay as originally planned until the 2nd,
or go back earlier to Joan, the Glock and warmth.

Horace has been ill with a cold for severaldays,
and has read rather than written. Patrick was with them last week,
took a bus into New York and finally got there but too late for
any night train to Boston. He was at Grand Central at 9 the
next morning but reached Boston only at 8 that night. Lucky to do
that, I should think. He has just been reading with immense
enthusiasm Philip Henderson's *William Morris*, says it is a fine
account, tells all without stressing anything, gives the business
side as well, and that I should read it. Would you like to try
your hand at it chez Kenwin, you being such a Morris fan? If so
I can order it sent to you and you can then send on to me, or
I can look at it when I visit and you keep it, or I can order it
sent directly to me. It seems silly for a couple to have two
copies even if our libraries are apart.

I had another good letter from Margaret Pratt after
she had received the copy of Hilda's book on Ezra. All this at
the beginning ties in with the Pratts. She does a little glossing
of Hilda's account of the Philadelphia days and fills in a bit. I
will not try to resume what she says but give you the stack when you
join me here. But she does say, "Did you ever meet Mrs. Doolittle?
She was a lovely character and we all loved her. She and I got on
famously especially when we were all in Florence together. She
was then (or was it later when she was living with Hilda) having a
difficult time understanding H.D.'s poetry, as she confided to me.
Later I think she got to appreciate it. She used to make Moravian
Christmas cookies of animals -- a delicious ginger recipe which
luckily she gave me -- and special Moravian mints that were at least
two inches in diameter -- white, green and pink." I think I shall
have to ask Margaret for the cooky recipe, for Perdita.

Today, after dictating two more tape of letters--she
will have four to keep her busy tomorrow-- I have spent going on
with the anthology of poetry from the books in the Wesleyan series.
Forty books altogether, over ten years. So far I have finished
the choices to be chosen from, of Vassar Miller's three books. Last
night I did the three books of James Dickey, and the one of Robert
Francis.

I do hope London is proving tolerable and the club is a
little warmer. Bundle up and take care of yourself. If you
suddenly flee to Switzerland, wire me because of letters. Please
greet President Nixon when you see him at the Palace.

All love a dogblANKet, Noman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

Despite my confidence when I wrote you yesterday
that the snow would skip us, it had begun to fall last night
by the time we went to bed. By this morning there were three
or four inches of wet snow, and the pile from the roof in front
of the garage was such I couldn't get my car out. But Susan's
was free and I took hers. I hopefully by the time I get home
the man will have appeared to dig us out.

Today has in part been given over to a young man from
Boston, doing his dissertation at Tufts on Hawthorne and
art, who came to use my material. He didn't seem to know very
well what he wanted to do, but I am glad to say had to return to
Boston without eating lunch. The rest has gone to finishing the
redraft of the address I gave in Australia, long since due for
the book they are making out of the proceedings. But Mrs H
can begin typing it up tomorrow and it can be there by the end
of February which is what I promised. Now I must settle down
to the anthology again, once I have prepared my lessons.

Your letters of the 19th, 20th and 21st came in
the late afternoon mail. This has certainly been an epic trip
for you. The Arctic has nothing to compare in the way of
hazards. But I do hope you manage to get in a few at least
of the calls you had counted on making. It is too discouraging
to be always penned in. I really am sorry about the Sesame
and their feeling that faces must be made more youthful.
Your parents and mine would have said that duty to those who
had served you was imperative. I still feel so, and it is
needless to say this is the star you set your course by.
I must write the Queen and see if something can't be done on
the way of rooms for you at Hampton Court. I remember that
the mother of a boy at Oxford lived there. The widow of Scott
the antarctic explorer. But surely you have been an explorer
enough yourself to justify a bed-sitting room, with outside conveniences.

This can't really count, for I must hasten to the
gym, I never got there at all last week.

Much love and a warming hug

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

26 February ,969

Dearest Fido,

This is positively the last letter to the Sesame,

and I might not even dare risk this had I anything important
to say. But this has been a graduate seminar day (the poems
of Thoreau) and I have been hard at that. I did however begin
the day with a 9:00 a.m. visit to the gym for my first
"do" at exercises. I must say they were hardly severe or
exhausting, but I daresay I shall be puffing soon as they are
increased. I lift weights and huff and puff appropriately in
order to expand my lungs.

Nothing in the weather has been exhilarating. For the last twenty-four hours it has been deep grey, and fluffs of snow keep falling without any very measureable accumulation. Two feet more have fallen inland but we benefit from being close to the sea. As I look out of the window now however, after writing so optimistically of our benefits I see that the snowfall is increasing. Still, I should get home safely.

No letter from you this day, but I have been
lucky earlier this week and cannot complain. I did have a
letter from Ruegg yesterday asking where he should send the
Winson account. I think here and I will take along notes
with me as indicated. Once I get to you I shall be too rushed
to study carefully. Do you not think it might be a good idea
this time if I also saw Maitre Coigny, if the latter is in
Lausanne and free. He has been on holiday the past few,
or two times I have been with you.

Mrs H has finished typing the Australian
talk and I shall try to proofread this tonight at home. Then
it can be xeroxed in sufficient quantities and posted to
Melbourne I hope tomorrow. My final step for the week
is to try to finish the anthology. At least I have not more
seminars until next Tuesday, which will give me a chance to
concentrate. Similarly we are staying quietly at home evenings
so that I can work after dinner also.

You will be busy doing your last errands. By the way, you once spoke of giving Mrs H a Grieder scarf for typing your manuscript. Why don't you pick up one when you are in Zurich and I can bring it back with me. That is, of course, if you want to still.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

27 Febr

ruary 1969

Dearest Fido,

I should not have had the chance even of a few lines
today had I not finally after an hour and three-quarters sent away
the 16-year old son of my masseur and gymn instructor. The boy
had shown me his short stories and poems before--he reads like
a demon but doesn't study much in high school, and came filled
to the lips with an accumulation of questions. What did I think
of Satre, was it true as his gymn teacher had said that H emingway
was a repressed homosexual? I had to turn into a combination of
saint and dutch uncle.

Otherwise the day was devoted to re-proofreading the
text of my Australian address, and preparing a list of some thirty
titles to be read by the State Department seminar I shall be
talking to in Washington in late May. I will send you copies
of both, at the weekend, but addressed to you at Kenwin rather
than the Glock so you won't have to lug with you from Zurich to
Burier.

Alas, I was able to do little on the anthology, and
will have to devote myself to that tonight and tomorrow and until
it is done. Tomorrow morning, too, I have my gymnasium
session. A letter from the Sesame as of the 24th, and two of
the 25th arrived today. I treat more at length tomorrow, I hope
when the coast will be clearer. We were promised another inch
of snow today, but except for light sprinkles occasionally there
was nothing to measure.

Do give my affectionate greetings to Joan, and eat
sincerely with her.

All love, of course —

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 February 1969

Dearest Fido,

I have been living in such a fool's world that only just now have I realised that there will never be a 29th or a 30th, and that time has slipped away from me even more swiftly than I suspected. But I still risk this so the Glock, though I think tomorrow's letter if it is ever written should go to Kenwin like the 4th class airmail letter I posted to you there this morning.

I began the day with the trip to the postoffice, for your letter and the shipment of the typescripts to Australia. Then to the gym where another detachment of observers eyed me critically as I pulled weights. I am sure all this will be good for me; as it is I sit too much at the desk. Then to my mail and dictation to the machine, a few arrangements over the phone, and a visit from a lady who runs a careful bookbindery around the corner. She is the wife of a faculty member. I gave her my old copy of the Modern Library Hawthorne in which I took my notes, plus a copy of Hawthorne's American Notebooks (long out of print) which I used constantly but is coverless now. Most importantly I had her look at the OED which came from you after George Plank. You may have seen it in my office. As a result of its being damp and then hot with him the bindings have disintegrated before reaching me. It will cost me $15.00 a volume to rebind, but this seems sensible when one thinks of the original cost of the set. So that was done, as also the arrangements later in the day to have a painting owned by the International Student Center research ed for period and subject. Once it can be described I will have the painting sold at auction in New York. I must say I rather like it, but of course have no place to hang it, and it's not mine anyhow.

I think I forgot to tell you the little joke at the opening of the Melville show. They had brought together a priceless collection of presentation copies and manuscripts from various museums and libraries, all mounted in the Grolier Club manner with austere labels to describe the items. At the far end of the hall where I had the banner of Henry's Egret was a harpoon on the wall. When I entered after dinner and before the talk, I was pulled aside in horror by A lexander Vietor, a Yale librarian and great authority on the sea. "Do you know what they've done! They've hung up a swordfish harpoon. Melville would weep." I think he would have. They promised me to change it before any newspaper reporter heard of this sort of a gaff.

All love, Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

1 March 1969

Dearest Fido,

It really came with a profound shock to me yesterday that I didn't have two days more of February waiting for me to spend. So I send this to Kenwin where it can at last welcome you home again. What an extraordinary trip this has been for you. And how Marie Anne and Ines and the Wipf will relish every detail of it. So would I, but I have been blessed by your letters. I was particularly pleased in your letter that arrived today that you were to see Lotte Reiniger. I have always immensely admired her spirit, from her letters, and she is one of the good ones who ask no favors. A fine artist too I should think, in her own way.

No sooner had I sealed the letter yesterday than I saw the memorandum still on my desk. It is hardly important, but the spots to check seemed wonderfully inclusive. It would take me longer to find the right one than to scribble a note.

Last night and today I have continued to spend on the anthology. This is to be a selection from the 40 or so books of poems they (the Wesleyan Press) have published in the last decade. Alas, one has to choose something from each, but of course at the same time this limits the range advantageously in terms of my time. I am having all possibilities xeroxed as I go through; then I begin to weed and to arrange as though in a flower arrangements Otherwise my memory simply won't suffice. So far on this spur of non-stop reading I have gone through 7 more. Meters dribble from me.

A pleasant letter from Philip today, my letter to him having come the afternoon after the two of you had lunched. He sent elaborate direction how to reach his c hTATEAU, BUT PROMISES MAPS TO BE WAITING FOR ME AT Nice. I think I shall not try to see Romaine; were you to have been there it would be different. But the matter of her pictures has now been arranged, and with it the matter of the publication of her memoirs. I did not hear from her at Christmas, nor for a long time. It would be simpler simply to go into the country and pick wild strawberries.

Also in the mail was a letter from a friend in Madrid, or friends rather. He was a Loyalist who worked for me during the war, and is now said to be Franco's financial adviser, rich anyhow enough (they say) to have had Ava Gardner as his girl friend. He will be in New York, but his wife will be there; she worked for me too.

All is arranged for next Wednesday when Michael Gough comes to Yale to lecture.. He arrives by plane (why do they?) at 1:53, but Susan and I have been invited to lunch for Mary de Rachewil tz, and I have a seminar from 2-4. But Gough will be met at the plane, and then taken to see the Dura-Europas things, final arrangements for his lecture made, and he brought to HGS a little after four. I can take him home, he can rest, and we go to the Faculty Club for a dinner at six. It will be nice to meet him at long last.

2,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

To return to your earlier letters in case I have missed anything. Of the 24th. I will see what I can find out about Sylva's osteo-arthritis. But my chief orthopedist in Stanford, Cal., for the moment. However I will inquire otherwise. I am reasonably certain that at her age nothing really can be done, for once the bone matter begins to soften there is no cure. Their answer to the elaborate giving of a new hip would very likely be the same as for Hilda; that the shock would be too difficult and the chances of mending bone too slim. Indeed this is much what they would tell me,--indeed did me thirty years ago would be increasingly the situation I would face. Fortunately I have had no spectacular confrontal.

You spoke of Agnes having shown you the Lefranc book. Alas, I ordered a copy thru the Cooperative Corp several months ago, when you requested me to read it. But it has not come; shall I prod them or let matters take their course if you are not too keen now to have it in your possession? I'm sorry Agnes and her sister won't be in Portugal when I'm there. It would be fun to see her again.

Your letter of the 22nd, or at least none dated then, has arrived so it presumably will be coming more slowly by surface as you surmised. Your visits with Lettice and O.B. and Max seemed to have gone off well. It is splendid that you could have given Lettice her chance for more p. o. I wonder if you were able to get O.B.'s paintings in your luggage for Kenwin. Their advice about the Tiger seemed sensible, but I doubt you will take it. In your letter of the 25th you spoke of Jean Starr's removal to a nursing home. She hasn't gone yet, but apparently plans to. Perhaps, one might think, in the Fall. My informant said the boy friend seemed much at home, and very kind to her. One can only be grateful to him. * What bad luck that the Gordon Stables proved to be no relation. ♦ Philip in his letter was very much pleased that you had declared an Armistice with de Gaulle and would be happy to go out if you could go with Wendy. I think Wendy would enjoy this too and would make good company for you. What with seeing Philip and Vera, and Romaine, and Catherine and the Camargue you will have a full three or four days. Or perhaps you could stay at the "right" place and moved from there as a center. ♦ Philip's suggestion of the English Speaking Union is an excellent one, and why not let him put you up? ♦ A highly respectable and inexpensive place to eat, and you could use it for that as an experiment. Much used by academic Americans if you can bear them. But they all love to pick up conversations so it would be like a constant train ride.

I was most pleased to have yours of the 26th in this morning's mail -- a rare Saturday privilege. I am sorry that Hope Muntz couldn't get to you--it would have been rather fun without Kate, for a change. But I have long wanted you to see Lotte. ♦ The science fiction school would obviously bore you, except as you went incog. You might well try this, and simply say you were an Indiana housewife who cooked and washed and sewed all winter, and wanted to make a real and vital contribution as a creative person. that the farm simply wasn't enough fulfillment for

you, and that your older girl (aged nineteen) had agreed to
take care of the younger ten during the science fiction school.
If you will give me the signal I will enroll you on those
terms, perhaps not for this year but for next. Or all things
considered you could describe yourself as a real estate agent!

A-fni-

A fine yellowback from London came this morning too.
With good letters from the Brigadier and Ethel, and of course
especially the excited letter from Islay. It must be fun suddenly
to become an ant and burrow your way in through that hill. They
will hardly let you get to your room in the spring, I am sure, be-
fore insisting that you become an ant too.

I must out now and post this, as well as pick up
some xeroxed poems and take other books to be xeroxing. Also
send checks to the banks for the two girls and for Susan's
monthly allowance.

Welcome home again, greet Ines for us, and

very much of all love,

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

2 March 1969

Dearest Fido,

We were threatened with 4-6 inches of snow beginning last midnight, and warned more severely this morning when it hadn't yet arrived. So after breakfast I hurried to the office to put in such work at my desk as I might until the snowflakes (not the grapes) drove me back to Goodrich Street. I even brought a ham sandwich and milk so as to get as many work hours in as possible. Now it is the end of the afternoon and blowing hard, and is cold even through the windows; there has been no snow. But some thirty letters exist which would not otherwise have been born And bills have been paid, and money deposited as always monthly for Susan and the two girls. Alas, I have read no poetry so far but I can do that tonight after dinner.

Last night after dinner I couldn't, for young Susan came with the two children to the house for dinner. A fine roast beef that you would have approved of. Like you, at home, they get no roasts, tho for different reasons.

I thought you might be amused by the enclosed picture of my brother and the snow in front of his house dm Gardner. Since he is 6' 2" tall himself you can see how the drifts came. Sometime slip it into a yellowback, or give it to me with whatever yellowback accumulation you have when I leave Kenyon.

The University of Wisconsin magazine has gotten onto the letters from Hilda to Flint at the University of Texas and asks permission to print them in their H.D. number. I have xeroxes I myself got from Texas and will go over them first. Since they contain much information on the early Imagist days I am inclined to print them. And they do show her caring deeply for Aldington in the first days of his being away. Better to get some of these things into the open I imagine than have them whispered about. And one of us then in so much better a position for denying access to other material for the time being.

I spoke with Horace on the phone this morning, my usual Sunday call. He is a little better from his cold, gave me brief sermons on several topics, and lamented that he was not able to go full steam ahead with his memoirs. Instead he was writing a new foreword to his book on American poetry explaining why he wasn't revising the book. This is, I gather, for a paperback.

Trust all was well at Kenwin on your return, and that the Tiger as well as Ines was glad to see you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

3 March 1969

Dearest Fido,

Starting the day off as I now do, at least on three days each week, by an hour at the gym does make rather a bite in time. But I daresay it is good for me, and if you have furnaces or iceboxes you would like lifted and moved by me at Kenwin, simply mark them with a tag and I will spend an hour a day going around the house as a handyman.

The volume on Ralegh by Lefranc came this morning, and Mrs Hamerman picked it up for me at the Co-op. I forgot and gave her my card instead of yours, so consider this an Easter present. A good one too; I had not realised the price was $19.50 plus tax. But it should help you to pass a few wintry evenings in your New Haven apartment.

Gretchen Baker very kindly sent along a page from an old photograph album with a picture of Hilda, the Beaver and Pup. Also a review of *Heliodora* from the New York Times Book Review of August 1924. I did think this was kind, and if you remember you might say when you next wrote how grateful I am. The mail was chock full but mostly local business, except for a plea to be interviewed on stories about Marianne I knew, or especially had heard from Hilda. This is from a Donald Hall whom I do know (he was a Wesleyan editor & himself a poet) but I really can't, so long as Marianne herself is around. I could tell plenty but this is hardly the time nor I the person.

There was a little flurry of letters from you, for which

my thanks. The article on Stables I will take home to read. This is my usual practise, since this sort of time with my mail is a true relaxation. As for yours of the 28th I shall take a look at the Morris when I am with you. I suspect it had best stay with you until we merge. Your evening with Agnes sounded like fun. Poor Kingsley, and he worked so hard not only for workers' rights but for purity! As you may know he wrote Water Babies because he so disapproved of Hawthorne's Wonder Book. But he was even more violently anti-Emerson. Anyhow one is definitely not permitted heroes today except within one's own half-decade and political party.

A letter also from the 26th. Jean Starr's Florida address for March and April, is Hotel Sheraton-Carleton, 140 Sunrise Avenue, Palm Beach Florida. I like the Quaker aspect of her proposed home for "retired persons", but dislike Foulkeways as a name for it. Still, if the Quakers run it, it should be well managed. I am much amused by all of Rowse's running-over. He is quite definiety cracked. I would not dare show Horace's letter on the George Eliot biography to Haight, who being only seven years older than myself I dislike looking on as "a dear old professor at Yale." What Horace is doing of course is to compare this sort of definitive omnibus attempt with what he did for Amy Lowell and for Dorothy Richardson. I am sure that Haight is academic and thorough, but there are some who like the thesaurus aspect of his kind of biography, and the book

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

has had an extraordinary critical reception by the N.Y. and London Times, Time magazine etc. Horace may have felt that his D.R. was too little reviewed. But this is simply quite a different sort of book, written out of sensibility rather than research. I shall have to go down after vacation, but I only wish you were with me to carry the conversation. They like to listen to you and to preach to me.

Let me repeat how wonderful it is that you could see Lotte, and I hope you will try to go again. It must be a full twenty years since you saw her; for we have been writing almost daily even longer than that and I cannot remember your ever having been out once you resettled in Switzerland.

Now back for 15 minutes to my books of poetry. I had a phone call from Wesleyan today and I think they were surprised to know I was well in it. I must devote myself pretty exclusively to it so as to keep a potential whole in mind. Otherwise I see only holes.

All love, and a remembrance to you, Norman