May 26th, 1933.

Atlantic Monthly
Contributor's Column.

Dear Atlantic:-- A certain limerick runs:

"There's a notable family named Stein;
There's Gert, and there's Ep, and there's Ein;
Gert's poems are punk;
Ep's statues are junk;
Can't make head nor tail out of Ein."

This morsel recurred to us as we read Gertrude Stein's delightful autobiography. For we had years ago puckered our brows over her poetry; we had even racked our brains over her "Tender Buttons"; we had taken a shot at "The Making of Americans!"

But now we understand. It isn't Gertrude Stein that's out of step--its me!

It so chanced that we had been studying Modern Art all this year, in a certain nation-wide self culture society. We had viewed with delight, with amazement, or with outright stupid blank necessity, hundreds of the best colored prints of the canvasses of Cezanne, Picasso, Matisse, Pizarro, Renoir, Derain and those others who are as familiar to Gertrude Stein as if they had played at the same sand pile.

The May Atlantic had not been out two days until every copy in our town had been bought up by members of this society. Even then there were not half enough to go around.

So one of us had to give "Alice B. Töklas" as a topic in class. We chuckled together over Gertrude's purchase of her first Cezanne. Together we held out breath while the infuriated Parisians would have scratched and clawed the paint off Matisse's "La Femme au Chateau". (That very picture had been among the excellent prints our leader had provided for our study; so we were relieved to see Gertrude save it-- buy it!)

We laughed at Alfy Maurer's "Why of course the picture is finished. It's framed isn't it?" Whenever heard of an unfinished picture with a frame on?" (Truth to tell, we had wondered about that ourselves---and are still wondering!)

And Fernande! Picasso's Fernande! At a tea, rather "heavy in hand", because she could talk about only two subjects,--perfumes and hats! (Poor Fernande! In the June number we wept at her eclipse!)

And Matisse's portrait of Gertrude! Wiped out after ninety sittings!, only to be painted in, idealized, with that noble crown of heavy hair! And then she bobbed it! (But your artist is your optimist: "It's there just the same!")

Those Saturday Evenings at Gertrude Stein's stock us hob-nobbing with the elite all right;-if indeed genius be that. And that dinner where every artist was seated opposite his own picture, Gertrude chuckling at her own wit. (So did we.)
painting,

dulity

(2)

And The Katzenjammer Kids! Who ever before thought of
working them up in literature? But there they are! Fought over
by artists, just as we children used to scramble to see who'd get
them first!

Her own self appraisal--how could we omit that?
Genius is
genius, and it is only love that is blind!

What a rollicking time they had at those Saturday Evenings!
And what a rollicking crowd they are! And doesn't it shed a new
light on, say, Gauguin's "The White Horse," Villon's "Portrait of
Pientre", and our own American Art Johnson's "The Wind".

Can't you imagine Matisse's saying to himself "Yes, to be sure,
the coal bin is low,--but Madame will see to that. Here goes for
a spell binder! A startler! What'll the fellows say at Gertrude's
Saturday Evening if I fetch a picture with four dimensions in it! I'll
give them something to talk about!"

And so Gertrude Stein has clarified Modern Art. We have
found a new view point! We had thought those artists were serious
when they painted, say, flowering almond trees showing right through
their seated model! And we are relieved! Now we understand!
It's all a game--a jolly game! Or half in sport, at least.

Seriously, "Alice B. Toklas" is as refreshing a piece of
writing as we have run across; so free; so unrestrained; so "Psychic";
so original. Many be the chapters!

Anna Work Shawkey,
Charleston, W. Va.

(207 Beauregard St.)

JOSEPH JASTROW

143 EAST 49TH STREET
NEW YORK CITY
WICKERSHAM 2-7753

March 29 1934

Dear Mr Sedgwick:

I knew of the experiments of Solomon and Stein. You will find them cited in my book on *The Subconscious*, p.299. Because of this and other studies of Dr Solomon, I asked him to take my place during my leave of absence from Wisconsin in 1898-99. He told me that it was because he discovered in Miss S. a good subject that he hasked her to join him, and she asked for a share in the work.

It was because two of my literary friends commented upon the irrelevance of the article in your Jan. issue that I sent it to you. It is quite wide of the mark to suppose that a habit of youth would have any effect in one's mature literary output. That this sort of thing is facilitated in a state of automatic flow is well known. I did not think it worth mentioning because it is so familiar. In the writings of 'Patience Worth' you will find mannerisms adopted for the purpose but not intruding otherwise.

Your writer takes seven pages to say what can be put in one paragraph; and then does not bear on what all my literary friends ask me: How to classify the kind of mind that is willing to sponsor this output. Almost anybody of a certain temperament can do it. One of my friends does it for amusement; but he wouldnt think of publishing it. The actual problem your writer does not touch. It seems to me there is enough interest in it to have it stated. Mr Canby in last issue of Sat. Review gives a good account of the Opera which is now coming back for a return engagement. I am sorry to differ with your judgment, if I cannot persuade you that the point of view in which I present is the one that commands interest.