NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN · CONN

1 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

Last night at one a.m., Susan in her car and I in mine took the last stragglers from the Homage to the station so they could take the 1:35 back to New York. Today I have been in limbo, half-conscious at best, and I can not have been very helpful to the Professor from Christchurch, New Zealand whom I had to receive at 9:30 for an hour. I emerged from the mist, with little more than my nose showing, for the afternoon's graduate seminar, and cannot count the day as one of accomplishment.

But last night I can honestly include, for the homage went off with a bang. The hall was crowded with some six or seven hundred people, the walls lined with standees. And in another lounge which we had connected with a closed circuit tv, another three hundred were packed. Sardines in a can must must generate electricity by the pressure on each other; this is the way it worked here both on the audience and on the poets. There was a little of everything on the program: wit, pathos, pedantry, and some really beautiful readings of Jarrell's poetry by Hollander, Meredith, and Wilbur, as well as the final reading by his widow of Jarrell's last, still unpublished poem. Robert Lowell disappointed a little by reading from an already published tribute but did it sincerely. Peter Taylor, one of his closest friends, did reminiscences as did Robt Penn Warren and John Berryman, although the latter also read a poem he had composed for the occasion. So it went. I am too tired to do the evening justice. However, as a function it was an immense success.

There was no letter from you today, but four came yesterday so I cannot complain. The reasons, I suspect, for your letters not coming to my hand until afternoon lie in a new schedule for sorting and delivery on the part of the Yale internal postal service.

Stupidly I forgot to include in my Sunday letter an account of my talk with Marya about Horace. She was very brief about him: he continues to improve but needs more nursing aid than the hospital can give from floor service so she expected to take him from there to a nursing home within a week. They will go to the one in the country which is well recommended and, she says, perhaps heeding my warning, cheaper than a New York home. I asked about her own examination only to find her too have been too busy, so she says, to have it done. Foolish really since she could have combined this with a visit to Horace since it was to be done at the same hospital. But her spirits seemed better, maybe she decides she doesn't need having it done. I wish she would. People simply don't understand the importance of prevention. But what she actually wanted to talk about was her introduction to a collection of Sara Teasdale's poetry and the rather silly objections (I agreed) raised by Margaret Carpenter (i.e. Marya described Miss Carpenter's biography of Teasdale as worshipful. Chagge thr adjective to authoritative she was told.) Mary was fit to be tied, but not tongue-tied. It was fifteen minutes before I could shake her loose, and meanwhile I kept remembering the toll charges from Wallingford. But she is lonely, and Pat was off with an Irish contingent.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN • CONN

2 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

I slowly recover. Last night I did my best to help by taking a sleeping pill and being in bed by eleven. Actually I am enjoying the response to Monday's meeting. The Herald Tribune had a good account of it, and an even longer one was in the New York Times. And I have even had a number of letters in the mail, including one from the University Secretary who wrote, "It was the most moving event I think I have ever attended at Yale."

The morning went in a somewhat haphazard fashion, a good bit of it given up to a return of the New Zealand professor, full this time of questions after having read the papers I gave him describing the American Studies set-up at Yale. I hope he was helped. Part of the time too went when men came to hang draperies in the office secretary's room where the Dusty Diamonds are. The room looks like such a alleyway as people enter it from the hall that I came on this as a solution. And it does work. Everyone is delighted. Unfortunately the university has a rule (properly enough) that forbids their paying for it, so I did out of my own pocket. It is a sort of farewell gesture on my part which I can enjoy for the rest of this year and next. But the university did pay for new rugs for the same room, and the one where you worked on the letter files. For my own office I wanted nothing. I am happy with it as it is; the books and filing cases are all I want, and I prefer to let my successor decorate it to his own taste.

Poor Michael. I do know how administration gobbles the clock and calendar. But the year of leisure at Princeton, if only he gets it should give him time for the books that will let him have a senior position somewhere later on.

It does seem odd to think of daffodils in the Scillies. I suppose they will be on sale in London when we get there. I really am rather keen on the idea of being there during election day. Does one sit by t.v. to watch the results come in? But if one does you must not worry about it. I suspect it is an occasion when all the British would prefer to commune alone. You at least ought to sit with the dames at the Sesame, and they would find it indecent for Americans to be present. The conversation would be too different if we were, and you ought to be there scribbling notes to report to us the next day.

I enclose two stamps from what seems to be a new series. As always I leave to you whether or not they go to Elsie or the Brigadier. But perhaps this time to Elsie so as to be in at the gun with them, the Brigadier thinking more of his anonymous orphans or whoever it is who benefits.

One can tell that spring is coming here. It is now here, and the street lights have not yet been turned on. I go home to read like mad in preparation for Friday when I go to New York to vote on the National

Book Award.

resolution came about, or just what it was she did at the end. But a first class picture all the same. It restores my interest in the film. Thank you for inciting us.

5 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

A really steady day of work at my desk. And the desk certainly needed it after the week devoted first to the homage and then to the Book Award. This being the 1st of the month meant that bills have been piling up as well as letters to be answered. Like yourself with Kenwin there are still things at Goodrich Street to be done. When the heavy rains came, the water seeped in at a third corner of the cellar and so I had a sump pit and brass pump put in at the right spot to take care of that. Now I think we should be prepared for all but the greatest emergencies. The Academy of Fine Arts in Honolulu has written asking for the loan of the Charlot painting of newsboys that hangs in our living room, and that has taken some preliminary preparation since I must get it off by airfreight to them before we leave. I have had to cable Charlot to ask what the insurance value should be; the show is to be his retrospective and he is anxious to have this one in it. Obviously one cannot refuse, since he sold it to me at a low price even years ago. Then there was a long letter from Harry Moore who seems to be heeling a little better though I still will have to keep my whistle handy. I'll have a copy made of it to bring with me for you to see. He seems reasonably to accept my terms. But mostly bills, which I need to pay so that I can transfer the necessary amount from my savings account to cover these and the trip. (As I had planned to.) Marya wrote in a letter which arrived yesterday sending me the bill from the Nyack Hospital for the amount above what the medical insurance had paid--it was a half of the total. She had paid it so I shall send her the check for the exact amount. The bill from the nursing home, to which he went on Thursday came to the office in this morning's mail, and I have sent off a check for the first week of that. Marya was so worried about poverty that I thought I should neither make her wait for what she had paid, nor in the case of the nursing home bother her with being frightened at all. I will make arrangements so there will be no difficulty while I am away, presumably by paying in advance. I spoke to Pat this morning who said he gathered his father continued to improve. He was to visit there this afternoon. Horace reads a little now, which should help to pass the time. I am glad to say that Marya did have her examination and checkup earlier this week while Horace was still at the Nyack Hospital. All the reports are not yet in yet but so far there seemed to be nothing more than fatigue and worry at the heart of her trouble. I hope that's so.

Two yellowbacks came yesterday, and I read last night. A nice note from Marie Borroff, although a little bluestocking in tone. I was glad to hear news of the Hotsons whom I have not seen since last spring. Our fault, really; we should invite them in. But when? # I agree with the Manager of the Scilly Lloyds that it may be in order to give Martin a little for his outfit once he gets a job. But I should wait to see what sort of a job it is, in order to be appropriate. He has done well.

We kicked our heels last night and went to the 9:30 showing of Juliet of the Spirits. It was a strikingly imaginative picture with excellent use of the camera. Not quite up to Marienbad I should think, but livelier with the camera. It would be worth seeing again, for the full sense of the shifts of her fantasy. We must talk it over. I'm not sure I understand just how the

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

This morning a cable came from Romaine saying that all was in order as outlined in my itinerary I sent you, so we will be in Geneva on Tuesday at about noon as planned. Her car will meet us at the airport on Sunday and we are to stay at the Hotel Suisse, appropriately enough if you need to get in touch with us in case of a Swiss emergency. Apparently her cable got garbled somehow and was addressed only to Professor Pierson, Yale. Another cable from Honolulu also came this morning and the operator asked if the other puzzling one which had arrived yesterday could possibly be for me. I should have thought they might have at least guessed Pierson and tried Prof. Pierson first and then me. Anyhow I now have it.

Last night we went to dinner at the home of the Dean of the Graduate School and then to the Graduate School Ball (a command appearance). The dinner was pleasant, the ball noisy, and we were a little tired this morning. But I came to the office to begin the thank-you's for the Jarrell evening -- an endless task of sending out copies of the press reporting and pictures, but a necessary courtesy.

Tonight, alas, I have to make an appearance at one of the senior class secret societies -- a penalty for teaching undergraduates as I am doing again this year, but an honor as from their point of view. I have to eat and then spend an hour in a conversation during which they ask any questions they want to.

Tomorrow the head of the history department of the University of Melbourne, in Australia, comes for two days, and I have to arrange for his schedule and entertainment. And I must begin to think about my public reading of Hilda's poetry on Wednesday night.

I shall be glad to be in London.

I imagine this will be my last letter to Kenwin, but will write to you in care of Petrie. If you want to write from Ireland perhaps better to address me at the Connaught, Carlos Place, W.1.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

8 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

I've come back to the office after dinner to work, and having just composed a painful letter to a former graduate student who was dropped but likes to consider himself still a student after twn or more years, I calm myself by this letter to you (which I can drive by the postoffice to put in the box) before trying to figure out what I shall read of Hilda's tomorrow afternoon.

Out of sequence your letters of the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th have come yesterday and today. I sympathize with you in having had to face all the pressure from Helen for the manuscript, but at least she will have had to make up her mind about the book as it reaches her and start immediately from there, so you and I will not have to worry our pretty heads about it afterwards. Still, I shall be much interested in reading it for its own sake, and for once can be relieved of wondering whether I should make any suggestions. We are lucky that Helen is so good and sympathetic an editor. My only regret is that the business aspects of getting the book out in the Fall should so have exhausted you. yet sometimes I think you work best under stress and strain.

You were right of course. I took the election to be on the 21st rather than the 31st. But being no political scientist I shall be happy to read about it in the Swiss papers.

You are right too in sticking at Kenwin. This is no time to resettle, for once January is out of the way I hope you will want to get back to the memoirs. Although I suspect that Gawain is biting you and will get the first hunck of your flesh. # It might be a good idea to leave the Margiad Evans papers with Ethel, although I am a little surprised that her husband does not want to keep them perhaps for his daughter and hers. But no particular need for having them in the States since the originals are here. But certainly they should not be tossed away or let on to the common market. # Much look forward to meeting Alan. His is the one branch of the family I don't know, tho I vaguely remember meeting his mother when she was in uniform during the war.

Do give my greetings and Susan's to Petrie and her husband.
I shall perhaps not try to write again to Ireland, since you say the posts
are so slow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

10 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

Presumably it is absurd to write you again in care of Petrie, and no
doubt I obey little more than a muscular urge. For it is latish at night, after a
Fellows' dinner at Jonathan Edwards College, for freshman and juniors. I had for-
gotten I was signed up to go, until this noon when Gallup told me how pleased he
was I had agreed. After lunch, in desperation I phoned Susan to say I would not be
home. She was not at all surprised. "You told me ten days ago," she said. So at
least there was no meat wasted. But before that I had to chaperone a lecture given
by J.P. Donleavy, the American novelist, author of "The Giner Man" who was here also
to fo a t.v. program with Royce Smith. I rather liked him. "He spoke well and gave
his money's worth, and the students packed the hall.

It really doesn't matter if this reached you only by forwarding. But
if it should arrive in time, I can catch up on things. We have heard from Romaine.
All is set, and we will arrive in Geneva only on the Tuesday. We stay at the Hotel
Suisse which is near her home. Alas, Vence is not open on Mondays, which is a pity.
Susan's sister Molly has said fine to our going to Cambridge on the Sunday, so you
can write your Scarlett letters as for that day, and we will be free to go with you
to see Rosemary as of your plans. We will also plan lunch on the Thursday of your
arrival, though I suggest you phone us at the Connaught, or we you.

A letter yesterday announced that my Mrs Ash had died last Saturday. It
was kind of them to write only a couple of hours after her death, saying how much
she had looked forward to seeing us. I think I will have to call on her girl friend
for fifty years and try to see what the future holds.

It would be fun to go to Spinks with you to see what one can dig up for
Kenneth's birthday. They are in themselves a kind of Etruscan tomb, with no export
conditions.

We gave Needham what was necessary last summer, and it has been held back in
the till until he needs it. I will check on my return, which gives me time enough if
anything extra is needed because of increased costs. But I think better to let him try
to fit it in to what we originally planned. Then if this isn't really enough I can add
to it.

The British Viking trip is, so far as Yale is concerned, rather a plicity
stunt and we are having nothing to do with it. As you say, everything seems too vague
and there is no true scientific tie-up.

Today was hopeless so far as anything accomplished was concerned. I hold
my breath for London and the peace of Sesame that passeth all understanding. I enclose
clippings about your Prince's trip, which seems less than overwhelmingly received on
the side. Also the account of the titled lady whom I wonder if you would like to see
or have me see during my brief study of the British aristocracy? I always bow to you
in such matters, but I have never seen the belly of a Baroness.

My regards to the carers,

and all love,

11 March 1966

Dearest Fido,

I fear my last night's letter was all too frenzied. But at least Donleavy was my last lecturer for awhile -- a relief even though I found him pleasant. A full house (in a smallish room) turned out to greet him, long-haired men and beatnik babes. One man came up to him after his talk, clasped his hand devotedly and exclaimed that only two artists in the world held any meaning for him: Segovia and J. P. Donleavy. I gather he played the guitar and sang ballads and menched The Ginger Man. But what was he doing in a Graduate School?

Already you will be resting in the Ireland he describes
Olympia-Press-wise, but I gather Ballinomona is untypical of the Eire
Donleavy breathes. And the decision about the repairs to Kenwin will
be behind you. I hope, after gulping, that you said yes. And to Elsie's
garden frames also, although I agree that when one puts each thing off,
everything falls in a heap together. I note about Hastings, and we can
be ready by dawn if necessary. As you now know we are free to go with
you to Rosemary's.

A good part of today has been spent with Horace's affairs. Already I feel guilty at coming to you rather than to stay here and hold the tiller for them. Marya called this morning in tears, frightened at the bills and, apparently, needing reassurance that I meant what I said. But I had delayed in sending her the check for the payment she had made to the Nyack Hospital, although she had said she had paid it. Or so Patrick said. Now it was also about the Nursing Home, although I had long since paid their first bill. But the concatenation of events bewilders and frightens her, and she is alone without anyone to hold her hand and calm her. I think she is frightened too, and so am I a little, by the fact that Horace seems to have suffered a relapse after going to the nursing home, and now has to have a daytime registered nurse and a nighttime practical nurse, since he is completely incontinent and -- as I see by the Nursing Home bill depends on a colostomy belt. I phoned the head of the nursing home to arrange about paying bills during my absence, and he tells me there is a pretty constant flow. I have a call in to Horace's local doctor to discuss the matter with him, and may call Prutting on Monday, depending on what I learn. The manager seemed very nice, is to speak to the nurses and I will call again tomorrow to arrange about their checks. I will have to give some extra money to Marya too, to keep her on keel. But, oh, if only I could trust her to pay the nurses's and nursing home bills I could give her a covering sum for which she could account to me later. Alas, my Gaylord experience shows this to be impossible. Bills never got paid, or were mislaid, and balances went into (at least once) the "travel" fund. Poor Marya, I must admit life has not been easy for her. And I, God's grumbler, ought not to toss stones.

Prince Philip is said to have raised $262,000 yesterday, and had fun in biting photographers. But if one comes as a peanut vender why pretend to be a prince?

My greetings to the Carewe's.

So it is now dinner time, though I have not even begun to thank you seriatim for your bounty of kindnesses. These can come as I chew memory's cud.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

5 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

This can be only the merest of notes, to report that we returned safely, full of gratitude to you and Elsie for our wonderful days at Kenwin, and refreshed enough to make it at least barely possible to exist until the end of the spring term.

There were no incidents on the plane. Just as we were about to embark, the loudspeaker requested that a Mrs Rosebury on our same flight to New York report to the Swissair desk. "She's a fool if she goes," I whispered to Susan. But all seemed well, and indeed there were only two first-class passengers on the flight plus twenty-four in economy class. No one, obviously, was going to be thrown overboard. Indeed we received the kindliest of care, the food was excellent and far more than we needed our could eat, after Elsie's splendid sandwiches. I finished Fitzgerald's *This Side of Paradise* and Susan her science fiction, and then she read *Generation X* while I pondered as in a crystal bowl the stacks of mail that would be waiting for me on my desk.

We collected the schist Buddha once we had weighed in, so that it was fortunately not included in our already overweight luggage, and we were doubly grateful to the Swissair official who took it and put it into cold storage. Indeed we were lucky with the Buddha all the way, for in New York a Swissair minion carried it for me into the customs where our honest declaration reinforced by Susan's honest face got us through without having either the boxed statue or anything else opened at all. I paid $12.90 duty on Susan's deess, which he marked down as "worn", and that was all there was to it.

We arrived back in New Haven at 7:30 (1:30 your time), Catherine was glad to see us, and we her, although I discovered I had left the camera case in the limousine (it was collected this morning), and we ate her dish of scrambled eggs, Susan telephoned the two girls and then tidly unpacked everything of hers, and we were in bed by 10:30 New Haven time, but 4:30 by the time we left you.

This morning I got up at six, and went through the last of January, and took it this morning to be xeroxed. I spoke with Helen and will go down after lunch on Thursday to give the ms to her. After breakfast I unpacked the Buddha and he is safely and handsomely installed on the teak table. My thanks are open-ended, as they like to say of timeless things.

Alas! Did I forget my little leather button box when I rushed to get down to sandwiches? I cannot find it although I was sure I had gone through all drawers in a last moment check. It has nothing of great value in it except for me decorations and collar buttons. But if you do have it will you send it along, perhaps in the watch case which thus might have contents unworthy though they were.

After my afternoon class, and a morning spent with sorting out Horace's bills for nurses and therapy (he still has three), I had a departmental meeting.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

9 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

Your letter of the 3rd (by which you meant the 4th) came through
with almost as much speed as we did, being in my Wednesday's mail. Thursday
your coffee-break postcard came, as did your letter of the 5th. Since then
there has been nothing, but I presume you have been busy not with hiding
Easter eggs for Elsie and Ines to hunt, but with the foreward for which I
hope you did not not altogether lose momentum. But if your days have been
like mine, our mutual silence (at least mine) is understandable.

The piles of mail and packages on my desk seemed almost insur-
mountable, and with what time I could spare I have had to work at it if
only to see anyone sitting for a conference on the opposite side. Things
are still in a mess. Your market basket is much the best solution, for I
have had to keep pawing for things I knew must be attended to at once. I
have hardly made a beginning, although at least my bills have been paid,
and my account put in sufficient order so that I know what remains to be
drawn on in the bank.

But first things first. The photography office delivered the
three copies of January at 11:30 on Thursday, and when my last appointment
was finished, I rushed to separate the copies into three appropriate piles,
accomplishing this with the help of Mrs Sherman just in time for me to
catch the 1:07 to Pennsylvania Station. Alas, they had omitted to duplicate
page 119, but this will be done on Monday (all time between being religious
holidays) and sent down to Helen by special delivery in good time. She was
delighted to have the evidence of your diligence (it really was phenominal!)
and was to take her copy of the manuscript off to Darien that afternoon,
where she was going to spend Good Friday with Anne Lindbergh. Then on Saturday
she had to come back to spend the day with Joy Adamson, who called twice
during the half-hour I was there, and who must be smarter with lions than
daily life, if one were to judge from Helen's frustrated efforts to explain
Saturday's plans. Helen had just had your letter about the dedication and
obviously was deeply moved, so much so that she kissed me to express thanks
to you. Moved, equally, by her response I asked if she would not like to
have your original typescript, since this one was so specially hers, and
this pleased her even more. I hope you approved. Shall I have a simple case
made for it? As to the jacket design, she had already conceived of something
incorporating the walls or city of Exeter, and the artist was at work on dt.
I spoke of the sword, but see no reason why the sketch of Exeter might not
work out as well, altho I am to pass on it. She herself will attempt to write
the jacket text, which I will then recast, always doing better when I can think
how foolish some one else's attempt is. (She laughed at that, but it is true.)
She seemed very pleased about Raleigh Trevelyan, knew he was now at Michael
Joseph's and in fact had mentioned the possibility when she was in London. I
asked about sales, so far, of Avalon. She checked and found the present total
was 5,398 which we both agreed was good, especially since the sales continued,
as they always do with your books. All this being now in order, and she very
busied with phone calls, I left in time to catch the 4:00 p.m. train home,
arriving in time to go to my college fellows' dinner where Mr Arthur Goodhart,
the American who was formerly master of University College, Oxford, and the

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

leading legal and constitutional British historian was the guest of honor. He is in his mid-70's, a long time fellow of Jonathan Edwards, and I had met him first when I was up. He was amused that I had so recently been in Oxford, we laughed about the Univ Shakespeare society, I told him of seeing the Henty granddaughters and he joined the circle of those whose lives had been influenced by the novels. Indeed he said it was Henty's writing which drew him to England so many years ago, an imperial magnet in reverse. I must get him to write me more about this for it fascinates me to unearth the followers. Did I tell you that in reading Fitzgerald's *This Side of Paradise*, as I had begun to do on the trip over, and finished on the return, I discovered that the hero had Henty by heart as a prep school boy? But this belongs, I think, in the category of Henry Miller.

One further publishing tidbit came in today's mail in a letter from Pantheon n. "We have just had a sudden run on BEOWULF which requires us to reprint in the next few months." They want to do 1,500 copies more and raise the price to $3.95. I shall write tomorrow to say yes.

The week was too filled by appointments with waiting students for me to even pretend to write. I am sorry. But Tuesday and Wednesday were my teaching days, with a departmental meeting on Tuesday after class, and on Wednesday after class there was first a poetry reading by a student and then a reception for a retiring (after 40 years) lady member of the Registrar's staff. As a senior citizen I felt compelled to attend.

Tuesday noon I lunched with Needham who had been waiting my return to give me the details of his trip which he begins on the 15th. I pretty much knew them anyway, but it gave him pleasure to repeat them. And what he wanted most, I finally realized after some indirection was the fulfillment of my promise to make up his salary for the four weeks of his absence which the furniture store could not pay for. The other two weeks will be his annual vacation, and as I realized long ago it would be hard enough on his wife not to have any holiday at all, without worrying about the tin margin on which they must operate. So I gave him that money, which is my contribution, and then urged on him a few hundred extra to keep on tap in travellers' checks against an emergency, this latter to be returned if he does not need it. He is still in a dazzled state at having his dream come so unexpectedly true, and I told him if he wanted to describe the trip he could say he qas travelling by pumpkin coach in the best Conderella fashion.

But a very considerable part of my time has been taken up with trying to put Horace's affairs into order. By the time I returned, all of the original nurses had been replaced, and my original safeguard of writing the names in on the blank checks had become a handicap instead of a help. But Mrs Sherman cleverly persuaded my bank to let her change the names and accept the alterations, so that problem had been solved. Only one new nurse insists on certified checks, saying that no one will cash anything for her. She must be a rotten risk herself, and this is a fearful nuisance, since it required one special trip to the bank, and will demand another Monday morning for her latest bill. There was also a largish bill for physical therapy, at the direction of the doctors, but this was straightforward enough. In any event it took the entire morning today to put the things in order.

3

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

All this is very slight in importance, however, as compared to the fact
that Horace is apparently slipping badly. A letter from Marya was followed
by a distraut telephone call from her seeking confidence, especially while she
is alone. I talked with her, and then with the physician who said that he was
steadily losing ground. The fistual will not heel, and is infected. At Dr.
Prutting's suggestion he was taken to the Nyack hospital for a blood transfusion
and then returned to the nursing home. But he has continued to lose ground.
and on Monday they are transferring him back to the hospital for tests and
better nursing care. The trouble is, he simply does not have any reserve
strength to fall back on, and an inch lost is not recovered. Marya says he
has no interest in anything, except that he had not heard from me during my
absence. I ought to have written, but when? I so needed not to have to write
anyone, at least at length. He had wanted a phone because they had not called
him when I rang up the home to ask how he was just before I left. So Marya
had one installed in his room, though he is almost too week to use it. She
asked me to phone him. I did, and the nurse thought he was not up to talking;
though when she realized my name she asked him and he insisted. I could have
wept at the sound of him -- hollow and remote; and he could not manage more than
three or four sentences. But he roused himself to say what had apparently been
choking his consciousness! "How can I ever thank you and Bryher, ever, ever,
ever!" Only the affection and gratitude were strong; the voice was muffled,
and when he had said it twice he subsided. I felt that I was talking to death,
and perhaps I was. "Bryher sends you her love," said, choking a little myself,
"and so do I."

There is no point in discussing whether he needs nurses. He does, and
he needs a Registered Miracle. Joanna had sent him a book about the Black Hole
of Calcutta, the sort, as Marya said, that he normally relished. He just put
it aside and lay back with his eyes closed.

You will forgive me, I know, for these days of silence, for they have
not been days of forgetfulness of your and Elsie's kindness to us. It was
wonderful to have the quiet of Kenwin, the fun of Avenche and Berne, the bounty
of your table and Elsie's wonderful menus, and the Escale. And London held all
the pleasures I had almost forgotten, and it was good to meet Romaine at last.
Sometimes, when I am proud, I think I must be your invention; but proud or humble
I know I am your debtor.

There are other things to write about, but that can wait until tomorrow.
All love and gratitude, as always.

NORMAN

10 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

I came dutifully back to the office this Easter Sunday morning, and worked manfully at my desk until noon. Answering some of the accumulation of business mail that pressed most, including the usual requests for permissions to include Hilda's poems in anthologies, and even the possibility of a small university press republication of *Palimpsest*. I suspect Hilda would be pleased at the continued interest in it.

I had thought to come back after noon-dinner and begin by writing you. But since two of Susan's sisters and their families were together for what must have been a frigid picnic (not more than 500F at best, to judge from my cufflinks) I took her down to join them for the afternoon by a fire inside one of the houses. Lizzie joined us for lunch, but since it was cold we preferred not to pic-nic; and it had seemed best for young Susan and her family not to come. On Monday she had decided to tell Jim to get out for good, but he somehow by evening had persuaded her still to discuss the matter (slow crucifixion for her), and so the matter is still in the pot. All this has managed to complicate the week of our re-turn, and one is hardly endeared by his behavior. But no one can settle the lives of others.

We did not get back from the shore until just now, and I have come down so that you can at least have an Easter note. Last night Susan told me of your cable. I thank you for the birthday greet-ings and am filled with shame that I did not mention the little leather box. On Thursday, which is Mrs Heyda's cleaning day, she found it where it had rolled under the bed in the room across from ours where I had unpacked. It must have been caught in my dirty shirts and been yanked out with it. I do apologize for the alarm I caused you, and I blush at the thought of you all on hands and knees in a room I had thought to have cased well before I left. Forgive me, as a second birthday present, and again the calm of Buddha as in your other gift.

I phoned the Gregories at home this morning and had no answer. So I phoned Horace at his new telephone, only to be answered by Patrick. Horace had become so desperately worse last night that they had rushed him to the Nyack Hospital and performed an emergency operation late at night, putting a tube into his wind pipe to aid his breathing, and removing as much as they could of the phlegm in his lungs. Patrick had gone back to the nursing home to pack Horace's things. He said they had all but given him up, but that this morning he seemed to have rallied and gotten back some energy although of course he could not speak because of the inserted pipe. Prutting had called this morning and praised the local doctors, and indeed it seems that both Horace on the one side, and Patrick and Marya on the other have absolute confidence in them. This is important psychologically, at least. But what terrible days these are for all of them.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

11 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

Monday is always a confused day, and this has been no exception. I began by rushing p. 119 of *January* to be xeroxed for Helen, picked it up at noon and posted in on special delivery. Then she phoned at 3 p.m. to say p. 58 was also missing. So I trotted that over, waited for it to be done, and then when I put the third of the copies in the one I retained, I found it did have p. 58. I phoned Helen to check, but she had kept one copy at home and the other in the office, having read only the parts undone before. I suspect I put 2, duplicate sheets in one and none in the other. But not any chance for her to check of course, so I special delivered these two also.

Then to the bank to have the check for Horace's nurse certified: -- a nuisance and an expense, but this needs to be done only once more. Then phoned the nursing home and arranged about the final bill there. By this time most of the morning was gone, except for what students took up. This afternoon came a professor from Toronto wanting to use my Hawthorne material, plus an Indian about to return home who wished to salaam.

But it was a banner day for mail from you. Letters of the 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th. And the Foreword which I liked very much, as did Helen. I think it will be a real addition and help to preserve the point of view. Congratulations! Now, if anyone ever deserved a rest from writing, you do.

The Battle of Electrics I think you have won (at this point I was so interrupted that it is now after dinner and I have come back to the office to write so that you will not be again this week so completely without letters.). I simply bow before the overwhelming evidence, and you need not defend yourself any more. As so often, *bitch* absolute logic (with which I gird my loins) cannot hope to prevail against the thrust of pragmatics. So I seal my doubts, promise to maintain absolute silence outwardly, and inwardly only to be surprised at Switzerland. Buy a new and practical manually operated one.

I am glad your visit with Coigny went well, and that my own did not too unalterably disturb his schedule. I thought him very nice. And if he thought an alteration in the letters about the books was desirable, I am glad you waited to show it to him. To jump ahead a bit, I feared a little that Beney might be disappointed in sharing the practical executorship, for of course to all intents and purposes he was, under the previous arrangement, the only executor with any loyal knowledge. Indeed he was more or less a sole executor. But I do think it is a safeguard to have someone not only with legal knowledge share the responsibility but also to have some one a little younger. And of course it does now mean that he has to share the fees, but in all truth you will outlive us all, so the question is an academic one.

The news that the arrangements for Tremelethen fell though is rather saddening. I had hoped for Dean's sake that this would mean an end to it.

So sorry that Beney may have misunderstood my sense of puritan thrift. I do not at all enjoy "gambling;" my only feeling is that one ought not to lose all touch with what seems to be a likely universal inflation. Indeed, at heart,

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HOLMES
PEARSON

really relishes a good gamble, and is good at it as he has shown with you. It is for this reason that I do not choose to be gambler myself, but place such reliance in him that I want him to be my surrogate.

I was much interested that Mervyn had taken the nearby job. On the whole I should think this was wise, since his heart is now in 'astings,; and I judge he is both well-known and well-thpught-of there.

As you will have known, the Gandharan piece did arrive safely and has been much admired by the two or three who have seen it. It is a gem and entirely self-contained. Ingholt will be green with envy, though his personal taste is for the scenes from the life of Buddha.

Please tell Ines how sorry I am about her mother. And that we have, with gratitude, been eating her gift of chocolate -- but slowly, to permit the memory to linger.

What a nice letter from Mrs Jackson. You should feel rewarded. Yours was, as you said, a gift in return.

A nice note from Catha acknowledging the arrival of the first book and my letter saying that the others were en route.

I have just phoned Patrick, who came back again tonight and had just seen his father. He is receiving oxygen and cannot speak but seems out of the critical period, and everyone is much relieved. Prutting is praised again for having prescribed some new drug which seems to have helped the acute kydney distress he was feeling. They seem to feel now that perhaps in a few days he will be over the hump. He is not in the special attention room, where there is an infectious case, but has (so Patrick says) a good nurse or nurses. How much I hope I was wrong in my forecast!

Among the mail awaiting my return was an envelope with Romaine's manuscript in it. Then, finally, amidst the mass of mail was the enclosed letter from Scribner's. I shall be writing her tomorrow or the next day to thank her for her kindness to us, and think the only thing for me to do is to quote the relevant passage precisely. I hope you will not be angry with me for having taken up the matter with Helen. She promises, when the chance comes, to read it and suggest a possible, subsidized London publisher. This is really a gesture to both of us, but she is so much better informed than either of us about British houses. And of course Collins is now out of the picture. Helen, by the way, was not at all surprised by Kenneth's rejection; and felt it had absolutely nothing to do with you, Collins being so crass that they would not even think of revenge when profits were at stake. But she knew already that they were bitterly disappointed at the actual sales of the book, which they had overprinted and overpraised. Indeed they had described it to Helen as "another Leopard" -- a description which made no sense at all. Well, good as it may have been, it certainly wasn't that.

Spring has hardly come here yet. Susan is just now seeing her first daffodils open, and all the blossoms will be hers to watch. Meanwhile I shiver.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

13 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

The Ghandaran buddha smiled birthday greetings from you when I cam downstairs this morning, and I thanked him and you for being. And I brought the first two daffodil blossoms to the office with me for my desk, so that you and Susan and Doris smile together from them. I begin the day by writing you, lest like yesterday the day finish without my having had a chance to write at all.

Last night Susan went out to play bridge, a thing she rarely does but did this time to fill in for a drop-out and let the others continue as planned. I السَّمَّed the chance to go through the applications for next summer's American Studies six-week session for secondary school teachers, using all the counter space in the kitchen as a shuffled the choices for the twenty successful ones: balancing men versus women, nuns versus lay-girls, historians versus teachers of English, and the various New England states against each other in order to give some geographical spread. It was like playing Russian roulette with other people's lives. Before coming to the office I took the applications, duly noted, back to the office where they originated and from whence the letters will go out.

I did not phone Marya about Horace yesterday, thinking it unwise to establish a daily practise of this, and knowing that I was likely to hear anyhow if things took a new turn for the worse. The final bill has come from the nursing home and I will take care of that later in the day, but this can be tucked into an odd pocket of time, as a letter cannot. The final bills from the nurses are still to come. A Norwegian professor who was scheduled to come here on Saturday for lunch and a conference with me has now delayed his arrival, so perhaps I should make the effort to see Horace at the hospital even though he cannot speak because of the tube. Then I could perhaps see Patrick and Marya too. It kills a day but restores a confidence.

I spoke with Helen on the phone yesterday, and instead of my going to New York Friday morning for a half hour, we have scheduled a prolonged telephone conversation at 9:30. We will each have our xeroxing copies of the manuscript in front of us, as she fires any questions she may have. This is like high international diplomacy. I hope you will not mind my having made a slight alteration in the third paragraph of your Foreword, but if you do object the somewhat shorter original can easily be restored in the galley proofs. In checking the book on Ango-Saxon medicine you cite, the fuller title seemed to be *The Medical Background of Anglo-Saxon England* by Wilfrid Bonser rather than by Wilfred Bonzer. Knowing that you had been working under really severe pressure, I thought it possible that you might have made the citation from memory rather than from the book itself, since I could find nothing with the precise title you gave or the precise spelling of the author's name.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

Spring has come very slowly here; indeed one can hardly say it has arrived. The weather remains cold and overcast, though we never get the rain we could so nicely use for the garden beds and the lawns, even for the reserve water supplies. A scattered early azalea or two are in thin blossom, and, as I said, the daffodils are just beginning to open. But because of the cold they are somewhat stumpy this year. I still hope that Elsie will have the fun of her 2,800 tulips before she leaves. If only the sun has been shining for you!

Donald Gallup phoned this morning to say that a letter actually written by Ezra himself has arrived at the University Provost's office, in which he agrees to the removal of his archives to Yale. These should be stupendous, since like Gertrude Stein he apparently saved everything and of course corresponded with everyone. The price (which of course should be kept a secret) was $250,000, staggeringly high and not at all bad as an accomplishment for a man who scorned capitalism. But as with Sylvia, and even a little with Hilda, there was always a kind of prudency behind their bohemianism. The cost was met by a gift from the wife of a now-retired member of the English department. The negotiations have been going on for several years, with Thurman Arnold the ashington lawyer who helped us with Hilda's citizenship finally taking a hand to arbitrate the confusion. The papers were originally to have been Ezra's bequest to Mary de R, as his only blood child; with Omar getting his mother's money and the paintings by Wyndham Lewis who is sometimes reputed to be his father. But Omar being legally Ezra's son, by the birth certificates, and being now jobless but with a family, insisted that he be treated as though he were in fact Ezra's son, a situation which Dorothy had not anticipated when she explained matters to me at Brunnenburgh. It was as it turned out a little as though Pup had insisted on a share of R.A.'s estate after his death, which she could legally have done. Because of all this I have rather dropped out of contact during the past two years. If I wrote to Mary, Dorothy thought I was on Mary's side; if I wrote to Dorothy, the opposite was true. Enough people were otherwise involved, as it was.

My first appointment of the day is here, and the morning from now on is filled. This afternoon I have my undergraduate seminar, and afterwards a poetry reading by a friend to go to. Tonight I think I shall read at the pile of newspapers stored during my visit with you. But I will not need that a stimulus to my memory of the good time we had and all that you so wonderfully accomplished in finishing January. I thank you for that too, as well as for your cable and the Buddha and your love.

With my love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

14 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

A pleasant birthday dinner last night at home, only Susan and myself, and I spent the evening in the debauch of doing no university work whatsoever. Simply reading at the large pile of newspapers accumulated during my absence. Susan gave me as a birthday gift the planting of a little area in the back lot which I had thought seemed unfulfilled as one looked at it from the terrace, and had suggested (as she followed out) a red Japanese maple, blueberry etc to make autumn foliage in the Japanese manner. Young Susan gave (at her mother's suggestion) the Beowulf record I had brought you, plus another which you can listen to and decide on next summer when you come. Lizzie gave a bottle of cointreau, which we apparently lacked. And there was of course Buddha. So I was well bountied.

Today, except for a few appointments with students, has mostly been spent at a four-hour committee meeting on the collections of American art in the gallery, in reference to their use, increase, and the plans for a large exhibition to be held two years from now. Then Susan having gone to a meeting of Our Society, that wonderful name for New Haven's most exclusive group of old families, I went to the Fellows' Meeting at Jonathan Edwards College again, much to their surprise, and have come back to the office to write you and take the letter to the post office on my way home.

There was a little harvest of letters from you, there having been none yesterday nor the day before, but that for the 10th and the 12th came hand-in-hand today. I still grapple at my carelessness in having lost the button box here and then wondered if it had been done at your end. But your anguish will have been relieved, and my apologies received by now. I was glad that Dean has at least found a tenant for Tremelethen, especially if that helps a bit on the taxes. I was interested in Marya's letter, which seemed to me good under the circumstances. I have still heard nothing to arouse my alarm and so judge things to be better. He seems to be well settled in, and I have had my first bill for nursing at the Nyack Hospital. The final nursing bills from the nursing home are still to arrive. I hope to be able to go down on Saturday, if only briefly, and can perhaps find out a little more then.

Helen called today, saying she would be unable to have her long telephone conversation with me tomorrow morning because of having to meet Gunther Grass, wife and kinder, at the dock where they will be landing from the Michaelangelo, after the much reported stormy crossing where three passengers were killed. He is of course her chief gainer except for Anne Lindbergh, and I cannot blame her for wanting to take care of him as he does of her in Berling. So I shall go down after all, to go over things with a substitute, and try to catch the noon train back for afternoon appointments. Needless to say, I shall be thinking of you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

15 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

I did finally get your letter to the post office, but only after some difficulty. As I left the office to go to the car, I checked to see if I had my keys, only to find I no longer had those to the Olds-mobile. I searched everywhere, and can remember only knowing they were in my coat pocket when I went to the Fellows' meeting, and perhaps they slipped out of my coat in some way. Fortunately Susan could drive down with the reserve pair. Now I shall have to have a duplicate set made.

I made my trip to New York, as planned, and Helen was actually there, the Michaelangelo (with Grass aboard) being a day late because of the storm. We had to work rather fast, however, because of noontime appointments, finishing just after 12 so they could leave. I took the one o'clock back, after a quick visit to the shop of Michael Papantonio (who we met at Maggs) where I bought a watercolor by Vachel Lindsay for my collection of art-for-the-wrong-reason. One hundred dollars which was neither cheap nor expensive as things go.

Helen had the jacket design for January for me to see, and although we both agreed that the Bayeux-tapestry-type lettering was squiggly and uneasy and so will be changed, I did OK the design itself. Rather against my previous conviction I did not object to the fact that a section of the tapestry was again used, with walls and a fortress tower and very much the sense of battle and defense. It is striking, and helps to define the book. I think you will like it, and so much effort and time had gone into it that one couldn't say, chuck it for the sword. The battle scene will distinguish it from being one of your novels-of-the-future, which may be sensible. She also had the draft of her jacket material, but I simply took it with me to work on over the weekend. I haven't really read it, which saved me from having to comment on it to her. On such a thing I need to be alone to meditate.

There were the usual discussions and I hope not too many compromises. I have a list of several queries they made, which can be easily changed in the galleys if you go along with them. But it now being late in the afternoon (the office has been busy) I will save them to put on a sheet tomorrow after I come back from seeing Horace; there is obviously no rush.

Your birthday letter of the 13th was waiting for me. I thank you again. I jigge for your watch! Blessings on you.

The Will must haunt you, but I am delighted you are keeping at it until things are in order. I suspect your hunch about the flaw is a sensible one; at any rate in a long range view, the less things are tied up the better. I only hope Beney will understand. Naturally as manager of a branch bank he loyally wants to safeguard the bank's connection with the accounts. And of course he takes pride in what he has helped

2

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

to build up so successfully. Yet it is always possible that for one reason or another accounts might become blocked, and although worth the risk for yourself or me it can be a different matter for the very young. Beney will not like the change, but I think you should stick by your guns. I have much confidence in Coigny's judgment, which was my reason for suggesting that he would be a valuable additional executioner. I only hope Beney does not become suspicious of me because of it. The four thousand did arrive and will be a lifesaver in respect to Horace, since I still have had nothing back from the health insurance on Susan. Beney naturally would like to keep it on his side, but the present circumstances made it unwise not to have the reserve here. And, actually, at the moment, had I been able to invest it I think I would have preferred adding it to what I hold here. As indeed I have done with what I have managed to save in the past few years. I have about 120,000 in investments on this side, and eventually will feel safer if I can get it up to a quarter or a half. If anything should ever happen to Susan, I prefer that she leaves whatever she has (except for the Goodrich Street house) directly (in Lizzie's case, however, in trust) to the two girls so they can benefit from it without feeling I stand between. And while they are younger, since of course I feel I shall live forever. But there was no point in my trying to explain this to Beney; I mention it only because I think he fears just that in terms of anything sent this side which could be kept on the other.

The Ingstadt book sounds like fun. I daresay it will be published on this side and I can see it there. The usual reaction to his "find" is that it would be more convincing if there were more than the single spindle-whorl discovered in the second year.

I save Collins to write about tomorrow.

The world becomes entwined withing itself. On the train to New York this morning I sat beside a man who busily wrote all the way on his brief case. Obviously a report, and he used a portfolio than had come as a souvenir of a conference of museum directors, as I could see from the printing on it. At 125th Street, he put his papers away, as I did those on which I had been working. After a remark or two between us he said he was a David Scott, the Director of the National Collection of Fine Arts in Washington. This is the place Romaine had said wanted home of her pictures, five in fact. I mentioned that I had been with her a fortnight ago, and did they? He said yes, he had just written Natalie Barney again (who was the agent and fishing to have him take five instead of three that were once to go to the National Gallery), but, alas, no one could get over to see what to take in addition to the three Finney had chosen before. Whereupon I reached into my briefcase and fished out your little red notebook in which I had jotted down the names of those I liked best, to help me write her about them afterwards. I ripped out the page and told him these had impressed me most. He was delighted, and said he would write Romaine he had talked with me about them, promising to send me the list back after he had copied it. For at this moment we pulled into Grand Central.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

16 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

Twenty-four letters done today, which hardly makes a dent but still is an accomplishment. In a way I was given today as a present. I had thought to visit Horace, but prudently phoned Marya first. He is much better (perhaps there really was the Registered Miracle) but the tube is still in his throat and he cannot speak. Marya thought it might be frustrating for him to have me there, yet be unable to communicate with me. So we wait until possibly next weekend. He is in an oxygen tent of sorts, but the uremia is clearing up and the wound is at last healing from the inside as it should do. I must say I would never have believed it possible. In addition Marya said that his Medicare papers (the government's medical aid to the so-called elderly) are in order and when it begins on July 1st he will receive extra help from it. In addition Sarah Lawrence College has put in some new medical insurance for its emeriti faculty, and once Marya has filled out the multiple forms this will help too. She is bewildered by the number of questions asked, and when I asked whether Patrick might not help she said he was no good either at such practical matters. I suppose next week I shall have to do it for them. But on the whole it looks like another victory for Prutting, who seems to be effective as distance healing.

Where shall I begin? There is still so much to write you about that I cannot hope to finish it today. Let me jump about a bit as I pick up a scrap here and there. I enclose the queries on January for you to look at when your own desk is tidier. The bundle from Maggs has arrived, and the books have been catalogued and put away. You may remember that I bought a mint copy of *The Dash for Khartoum*, knowing that I had a copy but wanting to improve on it because of its use for the Dusty Diamonds invitation. I had forgotten that we did not actually have a first edition, which this new one is. So it was a better acquisition than I had imagined. The Swiss Family has joined the other copies we have. The Vegetius *De Re Militari* I shall have properly catalogued by the man in the Library, as I have had done with the others in that section of our collections.

In this connection I have had the reply from Stonehill after his checking the enclosed letter from Maggs. You may remember the B & F they showed us when we were there. "After careful checking," he writes, "I find that despite the fact they are all late editions you lack (6) of the Beaumont and Fletchers. You have two copies of the 1669 island princess and one copy of The Bloody Brothers dated 1639. I can't find that you have the Shadwell or the Theobald. It means that they will average you about $25.00 per volume and I suggest you order them. All I am sure when the smoke clears away I will be in a position to take the duplicates off your hands and dispose of them."

In New York yesterday when I saw Papantonio he too suggested that I should buy them, himself offering to take the duplicates off my hands. What do you think? My own inclination is to follow their advice in order to carry out the plan to hope eventually for a complete sequence of all editions up to the 18th century. This can make a significant collection even though we do not have many of the first quartos. And we do have a few of them too. My own inclination would be to take them however without the Theobald or the

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Shadwell, since neither of us (if I am correct) has any particular interest in either. I am quite happy to send Maggs the money from here, or (if you want to order it sent me and pay in pounds, to send you the money to Switzerland or put in your Co-op account or savings bank deposit. I enclose the letter from Maggs simply to refresh your memory. Please return it with your advice.

I forgot to tell you to look out for my review of a book on Wallace Stevens in the New York Times for March 20th. I won't send you a copy unless you've tossed yours out without having caught a glimpse of it.

And I did not mention the excellent article you sent me on Martin Delgano. I must say he does have the look of a major domo and a man who is happy in his work. I'd like to meet him sometime and hear about his life in the Palace. At least, *you* must and *tell* me about it.

The afternoon ends, and I must dash home and take Susan to a cocktail party. Then we pick up a Japanese professor and bring him home for supper. We are too far behind on our obligations to visiting scholars¹. Alas, for I would relish an evening with a book.

All love as always,

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

17 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

I must say I feel exhausted after a most miscellaneous day. The morning went chiefly to the professor of american studies from Oslo who came to the office a little after 10 and stayed until noon. Otherwise I have been answering all sorts of scraps of letters. I ordered a copy of Artemis (the English edition) sent to Phyllis Jackson, a copy of the Geoffrey Ashe book to Mervyn Dobson, and the Vinland Map to Krogh in Denmark, to replace the one that should have been sent to him but was sent by mistake back across the ocean to me. Then I wrote them their letters. I sent the ballantyne photographs of Dusty Diamonds to his daughter, and wrote her. The novelist Joseph Heller about a lecture next fall. The Hawaii Academy of Arts about a painting I lent them. Two letters of condolence. Some people who wanted information on Hawthorne. Some letters about the Jarrell homage. And so it has gone throughout the day. But my desk gets a little clearer and this is a consolation.

I look back over your letters (none came yesterday), and still hope Beney will not think I am really a gambler. I never play the market, but do like investments where the capital is likely to keep pace with inflation. And I seldom make my own decisions. As I told him, I thought he had perhaps been un peu conservatif. I laughed at that, and the result was his little deal which you knew of. Poor Ines, I am so sorry. Will you convey Susan's sympathy and mine? I still mean to think of the trouble I put you to about the button box. I am sorry!

I still have to write Collins, but wait for your advice. My plan would be to send him my own check for $100.00 to pay for past services. Then offer him his choice of four payments of £25/-/- or ten of £10/-/- as a complete payment for whatever he wanted to write within a quick span of time on Hilda. I had never intended to subsidize the writing of a book, and think this would be unwise to do. Nor do I really think you want to take him on as a permanent pensioner; there are old dames worthier. But if you have another suggestion than my own, do let me know when you reply. I don't want to keep him waiting. I should think you might prefer to say everything was in my hands. He will become a pest.

Elsie will be interested that the University is about to take the insurance money on the stolen coins, all hope having been given up of regaining possession of any but a few. The trouble is identifying the coins if and as placed on sale. The amount to be collected is about $700,000 which is to be put into a fund to hire a curator, continue the cataloguing of what remains, especially the classical coins, etc. Actually what was stolen was not very important from a scholarly point of view. Coins from antiquity are

I enclose a clipping of the Michelangelo, with some notes on Grassi's ears will be full.

Must dash now and take your letter to the post office before going home.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

I write before lunch (just that: I have to eat with Malcolm
Cowley and his wife) but will probably finish it later. The day has been
much broken up, by their earlier visit this morning, a call from a repre-
sentative of the telephone company Interviewing about proposed changes, a
younger assistant professor who was just back from a chilly interview in
Texas, a conference on this afternoon's executive committee meeting, and
a heavy mail which I have just succeeded in reading.

Yours of the 14th and 15th were in the mail. It is hard to
believe you will be leaving so soon for England again, but you most cer-
tainly deserve a real holiday. Getting letters to you will be a problem
of tighter planning than even the Brigadier could contrive. But I shall
try!

I am sorry but not surprised that Beney is a little uneasy
about having Coigny in the picture, because it makes the whole affair so
much less wholly his -- or the bank's. But I can't believe that they will
have handled enough international estates to give them the experience
that "might" be necessary. Coigny's experience with the Guiness estate,
for example, does give him precedents. He is rather a Philip. But this
isn't at all to be regarded as predatory on Beney's part. He has a warm
protective feeling towards you, and pays you the compliment of feeling
you to be one of the family. Nevertheless, I still think a lawyer's
opinion to be useful.

Will see what I can do to find the Smith Corona address for
you.

The book letter did arrive, as I think I told you. It will go
into safe deposit vault for reference if ever needed. Do not forget some
time to bring the list up to date for English and European people for me to
watch. Incidentally I also agree with Coigny as to the new arrangement for
Elsie. One need not worry, I shall always see she has enough, as I think
Pup can be depended upon too. An annuity doesn't make economic sense. So
by all means sign if this reaches you by Friday. Incidentally I think the
1/10th (that is, proportional) scale is probably better than a round sum.

In the course of this letter its has become afternoon and yours
of the 16th is in. Glad I was not in error about the title of the Bonser
book. As to the bill from Harcourt one wonders not only why it was not sent
to me, but why it has been delayed so long. I had thought it must have been
charged against royalties. Will you have a copy of Lady V's new book sent
along, or give me title so that I can order it from Blackwell's? I think
we will both be too curious to wait until my next visit to Kenwin. #As you
will now know, I actually went down to New York for the Friday visit, so
there was no phone charge.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

A most extraordinary letter was sent me by Grove Press, written to them by a man who wanted to use the title of Hilda's poem "The Moon in Your Hands" as the title for his autobiographical novel of his torment as a homosexual. It had comforted him, and so forth. Well, why not, but it does seem to be what critics would call an intentional phallusy. Hilda would be astonished but perhaps amused. And it is really a good poem. In any event the novel is written yet and probably won't be published.

Much interested in your exile short story, and hope you will be in the mood sometime to make your rough draft. But I have a hunch it might be better to wait until January has become November, lest you unconsciously repeat while your unk is still in the same mood.

Poor Sachie! It was really a sad letter. He was for so many years the younger brother, with a remote father and mother in flesh, that Osbert and Edith became parental -- and the warmth was directed to the mother. I think Edith felt the same way too. The true vital force was pumped into the two older children, and Sachie misses contact with it now, especially being already himself replaced by his own children.

Glad you like Mumtaz.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

19 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

Your letter of the 17th arrived, but this was about the only
highlight of the day. You will be on the point of leaving when this arrives;
I think I shall risk one more tomorrow and then begin taking my chances
with England. Sorry about all the trouble with photographs, but at least
the new tidyiness is an achievement. I have asked Helen for Giselle's
address, but I suspect she is now woefully busy with the Lion Lady and Gunter
Grass and the fall list.

I do not somehow feel very bright today, certainly not as bright
as the tulips. They must be really magnificent, and I hope Elsie will permit
the Asile to benefit. The old men would enjoy it. So I would I.

Science fiction? Susan would agree. She read the one I had given
her for the trip, on the way back. She said it was not worth sending to you.
Then I bought an Asimov, *The End of Eternity*, but she said she had read it. So
I presume you must also have. Do you want me to post them to Dean, or chuck?

This was my afternoon to teach Stevens' poetry to the graduate
students. He is now completely the rage. What a difference from a decade
ago, when students in my classes had hardly heard his name. Or when I first
began to persuade him to give public lectures, or permit a collected volume
of poems, or then a selected volume, or the volume of his essays. He needed
to be tugged out of his shell, even if ever so gently.

In and out of the office all day were sophomores signing up for
their next two years as majors in American Studies. In theory the deadline is
tonight at 5 p.m., and 100 had done so. This is about 25 more than last year,
and I do not altogether rejoice at the increase. I shall have to ferret out
an instructor for an additional division of the required junior seminar. The
academic psyche works oddly: when this increase happens in one's own department
it becomes a sign of increasing maturity on the part of the undergraduate. When
it happens in another department, the indication that drifters have decided
to become limpets.

I was saddened this morning to read that the body of a 37 year old
man (boy) had been found floating in the Connecticut River. He had been a student
at Yale both for his bachelor's and doctoral degree, and had been a patient at
the Institute at the same time as Lizzie. Indeed he cracked up first as a graduate
student and I remember watching out of the second story window into the graduate
school courtyard, where dressed in a uniform and armed with a kind of gun he had
gone beserk in a fantasy of war. He was the son of a Day Tuttle I knew, who had
had to give up his teaching job at Smith to move into tv at the theatre in New
York to support all the boy's care for the last fifteen years. Lizzie phoned,
upset of course, but she did say she supposed he had little to live for. Nor did
he. He had disappeared at Thanksgiving time, when he went to New York for Thanks-

giving with his parents, then took the bus back to Middletown to the state sanitarium where he was a patient,
but never showed up. He must have jumped into the river, at the spot where we took our river cruise, and
his body floated down during the winter to the spot where there was an old theatre and the ferry.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

I couldn't write yesterday, so I am not risking Kenwin with
this, but sending it to await you at the Sesame. How sad it is to think
that, this time, we will not be around the corner. I must say as an
arrangement I thought the Connaught worked well.

Your letter of the 18th came yesterday; there was nothing today. I lunched yesterday with Ingholt, about Connecticut Academy matters, and told him about Phippen and the Hittites. Confidentially of course. Perhaps you will want to stop in at Spinks to see what he has, though I find it hard to think you would have any great interest in the collection except perhaps as a way of solving problems of funds. Michael Gough would not really want to work with it because of the source. He could not afford to, and in any event it is not in his period. Nor is this Islay's particular concern. Still, Harald said that if the photographs of objects could be sent here he would be glad to give you some idea of their likely importance. He has done excavating on somewhat similar periods, and says one has to be careful about misidentifications. So far as the smuggling is concerned, I am afraid that a good deal which is now available has questionable history.

Odd that you should send me the clipping about the Trogs. I
had been about to send you a similar clipping from the New York Times,
thinking your paper might not have carried out. Now, of course, I see
the real reason for your wanting to go North with Phyllis, and I shall
think of the two of you going underground together.

Your newest set of pasted clips from the agony column was
a crown of jewels. I liked the plea for the old Page One, the death of
the car in Ostend, and the witty electric typewriter.

I ran across the offer of a Henty letter on which he gave his
views on smoking and drinking. I have ordered it, but presumably it will
already have been sold. And I have also bought inexpensively the copy of
Fenn's Ocean Waif, with his autograph corrections of the text, which was
shown at the Grolier Club. None of the volumes I ordered while in England
have as yet arrived. I am eager to see them and introduce them to their
fellow-expatriates with whom they will live on the bookshelves.

Our dinner last night with the President of the University of
Kyoto was pleasant. Fortunately the Secretary kept it to the President
of K and his wife, their interpreter, and two couples besides his wife and
himself. It was all very gay. Earlier Susan and I were supposed to have
met at the vernissage of an exhibit of paintings of the Cuier & Ives type.
But she went to the wrong place, and so we met at home.

Today I have been going through endless applications for fellow-
ships, on which I must vote next week at a meeting of the American Council
of Learned Societies, in New York.

Greet London for me.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

22 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

Wanting to clear things up as much as possible, so that I
can be free on Sunday to work on the jacket material for *January* I have
been filing an accumulation of papers this morning, sending of packages
and the like. Forgive then this scrappy letter which I shall work on
during the day, as anything relevant to it pops into view.

Your letter of the 19th was in the morning mail. Sorry there
had been nothing to reach you before you wrote, but trust that those with
questions to you will have reached before you left. For example: what
you think about Collins, and whether you want to pay for the B&F out of
pounds. There isn't any reason why _I_ should not pay for any additions
I can afford, since the books are in my name. But you had mentioned the
matter of using your pounds. Continuing with books, I asked the man in
the library who catalogues the old ones for me if he would do the
military picture book you so generously gave me at Maggs. He has said
he would, and wrote: "I shall be glad to make a card for 1535 Vegetius
(is 1535 correct? Our [Yale's] copy and the British Museum copy are
dated 1536)." It is 1535, so the book must have been a science fiction
best seller in its time. My memory says that Papantonio to whom I
showed it when he appeared at Maggs, said that there were even 15th
century editions of the same book, but at any rate it is fun to be
earlier than Yale or the B.M.

I should be as angry as Phyllis about the damage to her car.
All to often it is the *other* driver, and one is helpless. That he must
pay the damage is small *consolation*, for one meanwhile loses the use of
the car, and any owner ought to be proud of the condition of his own
which can never again be the same. My grandchildren love to pat our
cars and say how nice they look. As against their own which has been
nicked a few times.

It is an excellent idea to have Petrie take care of the remaining furniture in storage. It will allay Coigny's fear, and save the cost of storage too. The suitcase or trunk or two don't matter. And perhaps you will take the sparklers back to Switzerland with you and bank them there. That will please eney too!

I have the science fictions -- Asimov's *End of Eternity*
which Susan said she had read, so you must have too; and the trashy one
she said you wouldn't like. Shall I send them to Dean, or toss in the
wastebasket?

A mass of yellowbacks were waiting for me when I came back,
but mostly we had discussed anything in them. Since they had been mailed
before I saw you.

Yesterday was rather a jumble of appointments and situations.
Long distance phone calls seemed to come in from everywhere--Washington,
New York, Illinois. Some one from the State Department called at my office
to see if I would be willing to make occasion senior citizen fortnight trips
abroad for fading-star appearances. An associate professor of English who
is alcoholic to the point of cyrosis tumbled down the stairs at home and

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

broke ribs and severed the cord which controls an eyelid, so that he is out for the rest of the year and perhaps for good. An assistant professor of English who has been under psychiatric treatment for some years, and occasionally institutionalized, finally departed for home and mother, after a day when his class had been particularly successful only to be followed by a group therapy hour in which the discussion by the psychiatrist suddenly was on the topic of whether this man should be institutionalized again. Then I was phoned by the head of the English department of a local second-class college to inquire about the batty wife of a neighbor at the shore who after being institutionalized is now a college girl again at 50, and so enamored of literature that she writes gushy letters to the instructors and gives two hundred dollar gifts of books to the college library in their honor, and, so, frightens them that her husband may think they are milking her. So for all of these I give my few comments, and then sigh when I put the phone down.

------ It now being after lunch, your two letters of the 20th were in the noon mail. You do seem to be having wretched weather, and the burning of winter at Zurich must have been symbolic rather than actual. But the festival must have been fun for Ethel. How I wish we might have seen the tulips in all their glory. I hope Elsie managed to enjoy them at least a little. The pre-holiday sulks are for dignity. So is her worry about the delphiniums. Much interested in the earlier kite-flying bomb, but do not plan to go in for military history until I am finished with dusty diamonds. I am glad you approved the B&F's from Maggs, and thank you for ordering them. Would you prefer to have me send the money for you to give over to Beney, or in your savings account here? Thanks too for the answers to the queries about January. I will see that all is in order against the galley proofs. I am glad one caught the sea gull and found it should have been a sea bird.

I do hope Rosemary can manage to keep on for the time being with her present housekeeper. I think she must just be beginning to feel the recoil after her father's death. It is so common, as we all know. The first moments one can be strong; then the after effects begin to be felt. It took you at least a couple of years before you recovered from Hilda's death. Perhaps even longer, because of the others added on. If you do run down to see her, be sure to give her my best.

And, of course, how can I begin to thank you and your friend for the action on Queenie Bowra. Nothing may come of it, probably won't, but she will have the sense of not lonely helplessness.

How does the red-haired waitress and the barmaid at the Sesame do?

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

23 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

I write this in the morning so that it may perhaps get an
earlier plane to England, for there is no Saturday afternoon mail and
nothing in this morning's from you; -- hence nothing to wait for to answer.

I have more of the day free than I had thought. I phoned
Marya again this morning, and since Horace still has the tube in him and
cannot talk and is mostly drowsy, there seemed no reason to drive down.
"Next week, he should be better." But I wonder, for he certainly can't
be gaining strength. And they have no discovered an abcess in his colon,
which they will perforate and drain on Monday in the hope that will help.
The uremia and pneumonia are apparently better, but Marya rightly worries
because he is so lethargic and does not even want to try to read. He
just lies there. She says she actually has filled out the Sarah Lawrence
increased insurance and annuity papers, and had thought Patrick had written
me about them. It sounded as though he were not at home this weekend, or
at least not yet. She says she has sent off, to be paid by the insurance,
some medical bills that had accumulated, but I'm not sure I know what
these could be. However, I shall next Saturday be seeing the friend who
brought the papers to them, and from her can learn what it is about. Marya
simply says she is anxious to help alleviate the burden on us.

Last night I went to the retirement dinner of Joseph Curtis,
a friend of mine in the English department, though this was given by Jonathan
Edwards College of which we are both Fellows. A very nice man, a bachelor,
who will live in a house he has bought in the country.

A letter has come saying the Henty ms letter had already been
sold. So we will never know what he had to say to boys about alcohol and
tobacco. But I think we can guess correctly.

A card from Needham written in the air en route to Japan. He
seems ecstatic.

A letter from Sylva Norman, from Texas, announces she will be
in New York for the first fortnight of May. She wants very much to come up
to New Haven from there for a day but prefers (at your suggestion) not to
spend the night. I am to let her know what day. She wants to see some
Arnold manuscripts, "just for curiosity." She comes alone so I shall have
to devote the entire day to her, a costly gift at this time of the year but
I shall be glad to see her. I must remember to prepare the vegetarian
lunch.

Helen kindly included my name on Harcourt's invitation for a
party on Wednesday for Grass, Johnson, Weiss etc., but alas I can never get
down on Tuesdays or Wednesdays when I have my seminars to teach. It is a
pity it won't be Thursday when I shall have to be in town anyhow, for the
meeting of the ACLS which begins early Friday morning. I forgot to tell

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

What a dreary cold, and rainy, day this has been. They had
made great plans for the dedication of the new classroom building at
Albertus Magnus College in the field at the bottom of Goodrich Street,
and the landscape gardeners had been working for days to rake the fresh
loam and stick in new trees and shrubs. But when I came home this noon
the men were piling the wooden chairs for the outdoor convocation into
trucks and taking them away. The preests will have to make their blessings
in the front hallway.

As for myself I have spent the day as usual at the office. I
am still answering letters, but this afternoon I devoted to reworking the
jacket material for January. The truth is that Helen really did an excellent
draft, for which I had to make very few changes. As you said, it is her
book and she expressed the exile part wonderfully well. I take my changes
home tonight to sleep on, and so will not send you a copy until my next.
Also, I have to look up one historical point lest we embarrass you. But
the chief work is done, and I should be able to send it on to Helen also
tomorrow.

The rest of the time has gone into miscellanea. Yesterday I
did nearly thirty letters. Today I have done only ten. But I sat myself
quietly at the desk and read a book on Flannery O'Connor, from a Christian
perspective, for which I wrote a solicited comment. The poor writer was a
former doctoral student here, has lost a job or two and needs a kind word.
Then I sat me down again to go over what we have in Ballantyne, checking it
against the list that Quayle sent me, a list I had never acknowledged nor
had I thanked him for the ms letter from Ballantyne to his wife (B's) which
he sent in thanks for the Grolier Club invitations. Alas, lists like these
show how far we are from completion for any author. Counting what I bought
in London (whose number I remember but not which titles, except that they
were first) we have 49. But we still lack 42. Perhaps now with a few more
sources of supply I can fill in at least some of these.

Last night we went to the theatre to see *The Subject was Roses*,
a wrangling play about two parents who quarreled with each other and with
their only son, who in turn quarreled with them, and in the end left home
two days after he had come back from military service. Tonight I think we
will watch *Heartbreak House* on the telly. The two plays should make an
appropriate pair.

Do give our love to Ethel and the Brigadier.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

25 April 1966

Dearest Fido,

Well, here you are! Or, better, here you have them. I enclose
a carbon of my suggested material for the front inside cover of the jacket,
and with it the original as Helen roughed it out. I think she did very
well, and you must remember it really was intended only as a draft to get
me started. But howl if we have not, between Helen and myself, caught
your intention. There will be time to change it in the proof, I am sure.

Actually this has really been your morning, beginning with
having the secretary make the copy for Helen. Then a statement of royalties
as thru Dec 31, 1965, came from Harcourt, with a check for $318.59. Of the
regular edition of Avalon 363 copies have been sold, 1 special order, and 115
sold for export. (I found the latter figure interesting.) Of Carthage, 326
copies of the hardcover edition, and 1,458 of the paperback have been sold.
Artemis sold 15 copies.

The check came in time for me to take it to the bank and deposit
it, at the same time I withdrew the amount for income tax and for the copies
of Avalon sent your friends, which I charge against receipts for royalties.
The amount withdrawn for taxes and author's copies came to 1,698000 and your
total remaining is 10,539.07. Perhaps if it bothers Beney to send money out
of Switzerland we could use this for Horace or the Rosslers.

But the trip to the bank wasn't just for this transaction but for
what I hope will be the final certification of the check for the nurse who
can't seem to cash an uncertified one. Thank heavens, the new registered nurses
at the hospital all can.

At this point (or rather a little after, for I had to entertain a
professor from Belgrade for a half hour) I phoned Horace's Dr Edelstein to
check on his condition. The doctor seemed quite cheerful. Horace is sitting
up a little, is eating some solids though still having intra-venous injections
as a supplement, and he thought him so much better that they decided to postpone
the operation on the abscess which he described as being in the pelvis or
abdomen. But the doctor thinks it will ultimately be necessary, perhaps at the
end of the week, and if I heard correctly they will both drain the abscess and
do a colostomy. Having said that he also said it might not be necessary to do
the latter. The doctor said he was reading a little, and could talk if he put
his finger over the end of the tube which had not yet been removed.

To return to your own affairs, a letter came from Pantheon asking
permission to reprint 1500 copies of Roman Wall and Ruan. This I thought very
good news indeed -- no wanting to crawl out on their part.

The first bundle of books from Pickering and from Brimmell arrived
this morning, but I shall not be able to catalogue them until the weekend.

Lady Bigham wrote from Carlisle, saying they found the town enchant-
ing and Sam and his mother delightful. They will all go to Washington, but
because her friend who went with her is not well, and because Ady would be
heartbroken they are not trying to come to New Haven.

Also a letter from Leslie Hotson, worried about whether he will be
able to stay on the Yale faculty next year and have library privileges.
Otherwise he will have to move to Cambridge where there is a better library
than here but he does not want to interrupt his work on what is easily the

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

most important discovery of my life." Actually the one year appointment I persuaded the department to give him last year (as you can imagine there was some reluctance after his attack on them) had to do with the fact that he will have reached the compulsory retirement age. But I will see what can be done, and in any event all this has nothing to do with his use of the library which I can arrange by paying the usual fee.

Your letter of the 22nd and two of the 21st were in today's mail. For which my special thanks since I know how busy you are. Glad you remembered the Stevens review. If you want one to tuck away, let me know. I have both an extra copy and a xerox. I doubt that Stevens is Rosemary's cup of tea, and I even suspect she does not really go in for poetry of the sort we like. But no one likes to get book review sections with things clipped out. #I am pleased that Ines can see her mother, and that Alan did so well. #As to the Rosslers I think we must fly to Montreal in September while you are here. We can fly up one afternoon, you dine with them, we sightsee the next day with them as guide, and then fly back that evening or the next morning. This would give a chance to get their actual financial situation straight. I am sure they will have to have help. The question will be how much. #You'll have to get Elsie to help you some time when you reshuffle your book shelves. Then she will see the science fiction and adventure books. But of course the majority of the books frighten her because they are on a level where she can't climb with you. And it's not really Swiss to be an intellectual, except possibly as a theologian. Why not wear a Calvinist collar? She is like the two girls when they were young and worried because we didn't take the Saturday Evening Post. You are such a good Swiss in so many ways; why *can't* you learn to be dull! #Glad the will is now out of the way for the time being at least. You are perhaps right about Pup and Elsie. But I do get on with Elsie, and promise to see she is taken care of in an emergency. So would Susan. # Thank you for telling me about Collins. I will write him this weekend, saying I know what you are doing and sending him and enclose a modest additional check for what he had done for me. My only worry is lest he become a sustaining charge.

Must rush off. Last night we watched Shaw's *Heartbreak House* on television. Beautifully acted and screened, but three hours is a little long even for Shaw. Tonight I have to take Susan to dinner and then to the Historical Society for their monthly meeting. She is a trustee, as you know.

Greetings to Ethel and the Brigadier, and to Phyllis when you see her, as from Susan and self. And all love to you as always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

5 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

How absolutely shockingly I have treated you! When I was so jambed that there was no possibility of a third letter reaching you chez Ethel, and life became intolerably involved with the many details which I can perhaps catch up on in this and subsequent letters, and I knew nothing could reach you until you were back in Sesame's arms again, I simply did not try to write at all.

Despite all my demurring about the Hittite Collection I am excited at the thought of being able to see it. I trust your instinct completely in such matters, having seen it so properly confident in the Ghandaran head, the Etruscan lionette, and the Buddha we so proudly have on our teak table. Whether Labor will go quite so far as you have heard it might, I don't know. But en principe I think matters will become tighter and tighter. That is why, too, I think it would be wise for you to take your dusty diamonds back with you to Switzerland.

All of the Dusty Diamonds I ordered while I was in England have now come. How slow the service is. The paperback of Kenneth's *Rome* which we posted early in my London visit has just arrived, a month after we sent it. I save the invlies of the Diamonds so that you can peek at anything you want. One or two, alas, I found I already had. And one or two from Brimmell I should not have ordered at all by mail, but since he carefully put them aside for me I wanted him to know my genuine interest. The Ballantynes of course were a great addition, and I managed two or three new Kingston titles and Fenns. At that (I mean this) moment a new catalogue arrived devoted to the Imagist Poets, and I hurriedly checked, to find three that Catha did not have, and one not at Yale in the H.D.-Aldington Collection. So I phoned New York, but alas all for Catha had already been taken. So it goes. But I do my best.

**Horace:** All sorts of things have happened. Despite the thought that they might postpone the second operation, it was in fact performed two Mondays ago, although I did not know it until some time later. I have talked with his physician who said that the surgeon did a colostomy, although perhaps some time in the future the intestine could be drawn back in again and rejoined to the normal passage. Still, for an indefinite and perhaps perhaps permanent period he will have to use the bag, a blow (I should imagine) to his pride, though it need not necessarily be so. He seems to be doing better, or at least doing as well as could be expected. But one wonders how long his strength can hold out, or what chance he has really of recovering additional strength. I gather that the majority of his nourishment still comes from intravenous feedings. To shift slightly, a rather remarkable revelation has occurred. I have a friend, Helen McMaster, who used to teach at Sarah Lawrence and was the one first to introduce me to Horace when I was doing the Oxford anthology. Although retired, she has been back at the college writing its history. About a fortnight ago, the bursar of the college came to her saying she had heard

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

of Horace's illness but was surprised that the college had never been approached for help through the Major Medical Insurance that Horace held from the college (the charges on which are paid by the college for all its emeriti faculty). This pays 80% of all hospital charges above what Blue Cross pays, the charges for registered nurses, physical therapy, and almost everything that we have paying. Helen went with the papers to see Marya, and discovered that neither she nor Horace had ever read the insurance papers and did not know anything about it. Helen left the papers for her to fill out; she did so but only for the therapy before he went to the hospital and this was done incorrectly. The papers were sent back with the suggestion that Pat help. He did them even more unsatisfactorily (Marya claims he has no head for practical matters: "We brought up both children without any sense of reality"), so Helen returned and went over what Marya had, sending her into corners to collect them, and discovered that most would be with me. So she came up last Saturday to spend the weekend with friends in New Haven, I spent Sunday morning putting all the bills together that fitted Major Medical and she took them back to Sarah Lawrence which is going to make out the claim for Marya rather than trusting to her. I phoned Prutting who will send Mrs McMaster a duplicate recipted bill for what you have paid him for Horace thus far, and there is a very good chance that we will recover a good part of what we have paid out. I gather the check will go to Marya, but Helen will see that I know what is paid so that I can ask for its return. I feel it should be given back to us, and I can hold it against the day when Horace leaves the hospital and Major Medical will not apply. I thought you would be amused by Mrs McMaster's letter to me. This morning when I phoned Marya to ask how Horace was doing (she talked for ten minutes), she was feeling very set up about the whole thing, was thinking of herself as the only one who seemed able to handle practical matters, and conferred with me on the possibility of bringing business pressure to bear on Horace's brother in regard to the share of that business which Horace still owned. It used to bring in about $2,000 a year, she said, and was the only income they had to fall back on. This was somewhat less than Horace had indicated, but I did gather from him that the future was uncertain, and I believe Marya when she said the income had decreased. She had been on the phone with the brother about it all, but was unsatisfied. She would wait one year and then really get at it, but I was the only one she could turn to for advice. Pat and Joanna did not want her to do anything. "It is better to lose every dollar one has than to go against family loyalty," was the way Joanna put it. Pat feels the same. Marya says there has been too much about the perfection of the Gregories and the kings of Ireland.

I am sorry not to be able to report finally on Leslie's distress at not being permanently a Research Associate of Yale. But I had a meeting with the Associate Provost of the University on the matter this afternoon, so at least some of my time is being given to Leslie's troubles. I find that the one-year renewal last spring was limited because Leslie became 68 after July 1st and this met the compulsory retirement age. Actually because his birthday came after June 30th he got an extra year out of it. The Provost agreed to waive Library fees for him, so he can continue to

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

all the privileges he wanted to use up until now; and it will be seen
whether he can use the title of Research Associate Emeritus as one can
call one's self Professor Emeritus. It still seems a little odd to me
that Leslie is so keen to maintain the relationship, but he does -- as
you can see from the enclosed clipping. How I wish you were here so
that you could hear him! Unfortunately, I cannot.

I am pleased that you liked the text for the jacket of
<u>January</u>. Fortunately, Helen seemed to like it too. She wrote, "Thank
you ever so much for the marvelous improvement in the jacket text for
THIS JANUARY TALE. Now it really gives the right idea of the book. As
you know, both buyers and reviewers need a key." I was grateful too for
your answers to my queries, and especially that we caught the shift in
the name of the boat. Now I wait for the galley proofs.

Don't worry about my description's being too extravagant.
At least I didn't say, as the ads for <u>Mr. Clemens</u> and <u>Mark Twain</u> do,
in <u>Publishers' Weekly</u>, that "Mr Kaplan has written a book that bristles
with verisimilitude." It is something to conjure up.

I must run now to a meeting, but qill pick up again tomorrow
after a trip to the dentist.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Who knows what the day may bring forth, so I start it
rather naughtily by at least the beginning of a letter to you. No,
I haven't quite started the day by it, for I have already been to
the dentist, at last able to check up on what caused the dull pain
while I was at Kenwin. It seems to be a pocket rather than decay
which caused the trouble, and two or three treatments should take
care of the trouble.

A vast array of your missives has been waiting on my
windowsill by the typewriter, although some of them I think I must
actually have answered. But for the census, I list them: 21, 21,21
(Collins),22, 24,26,27,28,29,30 April; 1 and 2 May, the last having
arrived this morning. The first I see I have at least mentioned.
John Maggs has written that it is en route, and also the family
Bible I took him and the various tidbits and watercolor that Lady
Bigham brought to me at the Sesame. The Rosslers, I pepeat, will
certainly demand a trip by us to Montreal for a conference. I
would leave the conference to you and them on the basis of their
dignity, but I think it might be well for me to meet them and for
you to indicate that they can turn to me in case of need. I should
imagine an annual sum would be better, at their age, than an annuity,
especially since the sum could be better adjusted to circumstances
on an annual basis. Similarly on the second letter of that day,
I repeat that not only would I take regular glances with Elsie but
would like to. The photographs, by the way, have been developed and
Susan has chosen a dozen of Elsie's flowers and of Avenche to send
to her. The photos of your library came out very well indeed. Alas,
I cannot take anything with the Leica that needs to be slowed down
for dim light, though a Leica is excellent for horse racing when things
go very fast. # As to Collins I feel a profound guilt in inadvertently
saddling you with him. But nev ertheless I am grateful not only for
getting Hilda's manuscript from him but also the bibliographical
references I might not otherwise have known of. But he is, at least
to meet, rather a broken reed. # I was much interested in your clipping
about science fiction in the review of Shiel's *Purple Cloud* which seems
to be an early classic. As it happens I had just bought it in paperback
for Susan, going by the extravagant statements on the cover by Wells and
others. She found it dreary, but would you like for your collection if
you do not have it? It is often referred to, and a copy should be there.
As to s.f. in general, I shall call it quits and let you poke for what
you want when you come. A Jugoslavian who paid an official call on me
a few days ago, mostly I would think for a free luncheon, had written a
book on the subject in his own Serbo-Croatian. He wanted a publisher,
but has no translation for anyone to see. #What a time you had getting
away. Poor Elsie! She uses the word "employee" like a club to beat
you into avowals of endearment. One has to respond but I never think
of you as enjoying the whip. You may have been a cabin boy in spirit,
but not a public school fag. # You ask about errands in England, but
we did London so well that I can't think of a thing except the Hittites.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Susan's Liberty blouse for her Susan turned out to be a size too small, but I don't know what the correct size would be. Perhaps I'll ask her. You never did say what sort of things were in the Hittite collection. Shards? Small figures? What? # The changes for the ms of _January_ I note against the arrival of the galleys. # By the 27th you were off, and Zurich must have been a race. And how kind of you to remember the little notebooks. Somehow I never seem to find their equivalent in the States. I bark with woofs of gratitude. # I was sorry to hear about Michael's operation. Did he ever recover his brief case? It was with relief that I found you at last settled at Tregoning, and wish I might have been with you to sneak off to the White Horse with the Brigadier for a drink. Thank God, for his sake, that I had at least a touch of the army and the war. I think in his mind he has promoted me to the rank of a general so that we can be an enforcement officers' men when we sit down together. # Whether Artemis was remaindered, in part as they sometimes do to decrease the stock, I don't know -- I am speaking of the States-- but I found several at a dollar each and bought them for gifts. So do not need more of the British, and in an event I prefer the American. # Thank you for your kindness in letting me see Rosemary's letter. I am so pleased that she enjoyed our visit and only wish I could live up to her description of me. # So sad about Lady V, but I am glad she took the trip to California. She has immense pluck. Godolphin sounded fun, the kind of project that our Kenneth (McPh) would revel in. Agnes would have doted on the Raleghs as you too must have. # But Bryher! How could you toss away a fishing jacket that any rocker or mod would have given an eye tooth to lay his hands on and his body in? On this side the equivalents will do anything to give the air of white patches too. I shall bring the matter to the attention of the Rocker Executive Committee, and you may well be denied entrance to the next hillside combat. If that happens, what will you do with your motorbike?

Today's arrival filled me with nostalgia for Bosigran and Zennor. And now, the next letter will have you on your trip at last. I had no idea it would be difficult to find a place near the Wall. I ought to have gotten hints from Susan's Cambridge sister, since they used to own the Trevelyan house through whose grounds a stretch of the Wall ran.

Now I must get back to my desk. More later in the day, or tomorrow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I suppose if one never wrote any letters at all then all
questions would be answered simply by waiting. For example there was
no point in asking you this morning what the Hittite pieces were. The
later morning mail had a letter from Mr Phippen saying they had been
sent, and describing them. They sound really exciting, especially so
if the B.M. man saw and approved them. I shall be eager for them to
come, and am relieved that they are not sections from the gate of some
walled city.

The same mail brought a large air-mailed letter from the
Hodgson nephew, filled with typed copies of his notes on research. I
urged him to get things actually down on paper, for if anything happened
to him the important facts of R.H.'s early life would vanish with him.
When he said he did not know how to write it out, I suggested it could
be in the form of letters. Our combined archives are beginning to make
a treasury.

I had a request for copies of two of the war trilogy of
Hilda's from a Canadian university, and said in reply I would be willing
to sell them, thinking to add the few dollars to her savings account.
They agreed but when they actually sent the order I realised I had to
fill out four copies of customs statements plus three copies of invoices
for the library. I gave up and presented the books.

Scribner's Sons have written to say "that we have decided in
favor of doing a collection of H.D.poems; the only question remaining in
our minds is just what would be the best collection for us to publish now."
This in their minds would be weighted towards the later period but include
the earlier work as well, and run from 256-320 pp. This is generous in
size but does go against my plan to publish at this time only the unavail-
able later work so as to continue to try to force critical attention on
them and break down the image of the Imagist. The moment the early poems
appear, the reviewers will fall back on the old cliches. Hilda, I know,
feared this and wanted to omit all of the chestnuts from the Selected Poems.
I couldn't quite do this, but as you know refused offers for a German
edition since they wanted to do only the early poems. Anthologists are
just now beginning to feel the effect of the Selected Poems and I hate to
miss this once-in-a-lifetime chance to focus on the later work. My
inclination is to explain why I submitted the ms I did, and stick to it.
But I shall not write Scribners until I have heard from you as my partner
in these matters.

The Vegetius *De Militari* is back from Mr Nemoy, so it is properly
catalogued. He seems to have been required reading for 15th and 16th century
gentlemen who took their military careers seriously. I really ought to have
let the Brigadier take it back with him for a spell.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Several yellowbacks have come in, and I have read, including one of the two large envelopes with Rover's letters. (What good letters Kenneth does write.) Wendy seems to be getting back on her feet, or should I say her wings. India and Pakistan sound expensive, but fun. My hunch is that she will remarry eventually. Who is this boy friend of hers with whom she would go? Your visit with Agnes Latham must have been fun; at least her letter from Nairobi was. Too bad we don't get that sort of chance. # Much amused by the letter from the American student who wanted you to write (that is what it amounts to) her study of Edith. Actually I am considerably shocked to see the degree to which students like her are encouraged to impose. # Pat's letter about Isabel Colgate and his description of her sounded as though dictated by Horace with a somewhat over-literary diction. I think it's true that minds can become too emersed in books. This is heresy for a teacher, but I was born heretical. # I was interested in Chester Page's comment on your *Lament for Adonis*. Gallup told me of the copy which had been in a catalogue and was bought by another bookseller who paid $30.00 and will ask more. Fortunately I was able to say I had one. The prospect of Marianne narrating Stravinsky with the New Philharmonic is somewhat overwhelming. But I am sure she is up to it, or to anything. # Was much interested in Bryan's letter, after having met Alan. They obviously are very different in nature. But you have always said so. # Valentine's letter sounded most literate to me.

I called at the Schaffner's last week Thursday night after dinner. Dinner was at the Century Club where by chance I ran into Leon Edel who has just been given a special academic chair in New York. I told him about the possibility of a reissue of *Palimpsest*, and when I asked him if he would be interested in doing an introduction for it he said he would. This would be a good cachet for the volume. *If* they do it.

I got to Perdita's about 9:30 just as they were finishing dinner. Nicholas was very poised and seemed to stay up until eleven, which was later than I ever was allowed to on a school night. I took Pup your pin and also the one that Susan had, since we thought she must set great store on it. Everything seemed well with them. Valentine is looking for an apprenticeship with a photographer this summer, and I promised to write several possibilities and see if he could be worked in. Or a photographic school. This would take up half the summer at least. No indication that he or they think of going abroad.

Now back to my desk again. But I begin to catch up on the past.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

7 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

This is proving to be even more of a circumscribed weekend, for correspondence, than I had feared. I write briefly today and will almost certainly not be able to write at all tomorrow, for we have the two grandchildren with us for over the weekend. Indeed they have been with Susan during every day of the week, that is: after their school hours. Susan has run a bus service back and forth with them, for lunch at noon as well as at the close of school. Young Susan had a tumor removed from her thyroid gland on Tuesday, an operation which was not thought to be either necessary or urgent and which for that reason was postponed from February until the hospital could give her a room. I believe she was to have the biopsy yesterday, and indeed is coming home from the hospital today. But we thought it easier on her to have a day or two without their care. They have been very good indeed, and we enjoy having them. But I can't come to the office as usual over the weekend.

I asked Susan about the blouse for Susan. She had bought one at Liberty's that proved too large. If, but only if, you had a moment to go there and could buy a plain green one in size 10, we could make a substitute and give the original one away. $f you do, I can put the amount into your Co-op account, which by today's reckoning in the mail comes to a credit of 120.90. Send it to the office and I can pop across the street and pay the duty. Or perhaps better send it to Susan and Goodrich Street as a gift. Perhaps then one needn't pay at all.

What a stupid letter this is. But I must pop off now and take Justus to get his haircut.

and you too like a hot pace better than a hot meal. But I shall ruminate on your trip in my next letter.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

10 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I hardly know whether I am coming or going, and least of all whether this is likely to reach you at the Sesame. I take a chance, even though it reaches you only via Ethel and her relay system. The next letter -- when will it be written? -- will go to Kenwin.

I have not written since Saturday, though I warned you I should probably not write on Sunday because of the grandchildren. Saturday was lovely though a bit on the cool side; I worked in the morning, then after lunch took Justus to get a haircut, after which we all went out to the Pheasant Lot in Durham, woodlands to which I think we once took you. When the maps finally came through after Mrs Bennett's death we discovered she owned more than we thought. So Saturday we explored down a road we had never taken lest we be trespassers. Sunday was foul. It rained all day, so in the afternoon we took the children to The Sound of Music which they enjoyed and which kept them quiet. Their mother seemed well after her operation and the biopsy proved negative, so that is out of the way.

I had had a second card for Sylva, begging to come out this week. I could tell until Saturday whether a Korean was returning to be "debriefed" by me, as the State Department put it, and so could not say until then what day I could have her. The telephone over the weekend was no success--she seems to be having a whirl--but I finally left a message and she called this morning. She will come on Friday. It will be pleasant to see her, but I could wish the visit did not come at this season of the year. At any rate, I lay the gift of the day as an offering at your feet.

A notice came from the Customs Office yesterday that the Spinklets had arrived (sent by air I presume), and I have arranged to meet an inspector at the Post Office tomorrow while we try to negotiate on the matter of duty. Obviously Spinks was too busy to go to the embassy and felt their own affidavit was enough. Normally it isn't, but perhaps the antiquity will be apparent enough to persuade them. I shall talk my best.

A letter also came today from a Miss Glitkin (who sent you her article on D.R.) asking if now that Horace's ms had gone to the printer she might not see what is at Yale. I shall write Rose to see what she thinks, and wonder how you feel. My own hunch is to have her go ahead and by a more prosaic biography add fuel to fire of interest. This seems to me to be the time, and the two books would add to each other. Miss G, I have a feeling, is more of a scholar than a critic.

Your letter of the 2nd, card of the 4th, letters of the 5th and 6th have absolutely filled us with delight. I wish you could do a book on England like Steinbeck's on America with Charlie. Phyllis could be your Charlie. But what a demon she is! She leads a life of desperate mileage. That is what counts for her, and I sometimes think she would rather get to another place than see where she is. But the trip has been a huge success, I can tell,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

12 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Life is an absolute hell, and is likely to show no heavenly streaks until at least next week. I did not write to you yesterday. Now it is already six o'clock when the last man but myself has left the office. The director of undergraduate studies has set three themes for the comprehensive examination for seniors (on which their degrees depend); the exam comes a week from today; he simply posted a little notice on the bulletin board announcing the themes, but had never told anyone of the seniors there would be themes and so they will not look for them. I have wired our bursary aid, who has no phone, and we must rush out letters even at this impossibly last moment to all seniors; and--alas--tomorrow is the day when Sylva comes and I will have to be with her at the station at lunch and during the afternoon at her side at Beinecke Library while she looks "for the fun of it" as Arnold letters.

Saturday I suppose I really must go to see Horace, since they are troubled that I don't, and it is true I haven't been able to --except for twice when he was desperately sick and could see visitors, since I returned from Switzerland.

But I must have at least this note with which to kiss your hand when you return to Kenwin. I do.

Two more letters from your trip have come, but I save them to comment on later.

What is at least pleasant to report on is the enclosed cancellation on an envelope from Hastings which really delighted me. It is better than anything in a month of _Punch_. I love to see the bulldog grin.

You made an immense success at the Post Office where I had to go yesterday for the box of Hittite figures. The Customs Officer was already there when I arrived (on time) and had opened the box, found the statement from Spinks, and unwrapped one of the little seated women. It was the antiquity which delighted him and the post office employees who were summonsed to see something three thousand years old. (I remember the awe I felt as a child when I saw a book one hundred years old, older even than my mother!) They ah'ed and oh'd and so I unwrapped another to show them, to their delight and expressions of gratitude. I am glad to say I had to pay no duty and indeed not even discuss the matter; though I did have to go with the officer from the post office to the customs office to sign still more affidavits and oaths. Then I took the box home and unwrapped all of them, and did my own ah'ing and ah'ing. What a delight they are. My heart jumps to the sight of the man riding the bull bareback, like the Minoan frescoes. And the line of figures like dancers in the Folies Begere, is as exciting as the B.M. thought. How Harald will lick his lips when he sees them. It was a good buy!

Now, welcome home, and all love!

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

13 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Just back at the end of the day from having put Sylva on
the 5:37 train. The morning was cold at bleak, but fortunately by eleven
when I went to the station to meet her train, the sun had come out and
the day turned warm and springlike.

I hope she had a good time. We drove to the house where she looked at the gardens and shrubbery, and then we took Susan to the Lawn Club for lunch where she could be served exactly what she wanted, including a strawberry shortcake for desert. We had to rush a little to get Susan to the doctor for her last flu shot at 1:45 (she took a taxi home), and then I took Sylva to the Beinecke, parked the car and went back to arrange for her to see the Mathew Arnold manuscripts. I took some papers to correct while she worked, but after an hour she felt her curiosity had been satisfied, and she murmured that the sun beckoned her more than research did. I had halfed guessed, from her letter, that this might prove to be the case, so we walked to the car (I had forgotten how really well she manages to get around--she has spunk and willpower--) and I drove her to the cottage at Johnson's Point. There really wasn't time to take her to Guilford or one of the little villages I like to show off. But she liked the sea, went out on the rocks, was happy at the fresh air, and seemed please for the chance to talk.

I left her at the station and she was able to manage everything
from then on for herself.

I think she flies back to England on Saturday or Sunday, taking
the helicopter from Grand Central to Kennedy, and excited at the idea of a
ride in one. She will back again next year for the spring term at the University
of Georgia where she is to teach a course in Shelley and one or two other
courses.

Will write more properly tomorrow. I was to have gone to see
Horace, but I simply can't. My desk is piled too high. I am sorry, but if
I don't work at my desk and papers I shall be ready for Freud.

All love,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

14 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Thirty letters done today, and I am a little weary from the
concentration. But I managed some errands too. I dared the still-cold
climate by wearing the new jacket you funded me for, and took my three
winter ones to my little tailor who thought he could mend the linings
enough for me to chance them through another winter. Then I drove to
the stationers, where you sometimes accompany me, to lay in office
supplies, then to the Co-op to pick up the prints of Susan's pictures
for Elsie (I will let Susan send them), then to the t.v. shop to arrange
for them to pick up the caput set I had given Susan's aunt and see if it
could be fixed. And then back to the pile of debris which really decided
me against going to see Horace today, though indeed I should have. But
I get no uninterrupted time during the week, and with exams about to appear
and a stack of term papers already on hand, I actually had no choice. I still
have a long way to go, but at least have made a little gain.

You are now home or will be en route as I write, but what a
wonderful trip you have obviously had. I really think it is quite up to
the level of the cruises, and certainly Phyllis is as intrepid a pilot
as any captain could be. Neither rough meals nor darkness can daunt her.
As I think I wrote you, her passion for mileage is like Kenneth's for detail.
Would it not be splendid sometime, in the manner of bear-baiting, to put
them both into the same car for a trip? You and I could follow after at
our own pace, for I fear my curiosity would never be satisfied with Phyllis
as driver. She is far too high a moralist. Your start was certainly like
that of a van, but I am glad you could see Dean and Tom. They seem better
satisfied with the schooling than I had thought. If Bryan doesn't farm with
him, wouldn't he really be better to sell out and go in for horses in Ireland?
After that, I could only think of you searching for sheep (what would Ellis
have thought?) or a prison cell (what would Bunyan have thought?) I'm glad
you stopped at Lincoln. It was one of my favorites. I liked the way it was
crowded in, an unortjodox point of view but the crwoding made it communal.
As for the Wall, you have made me eager to see it. But I think not in spring
vacation. You must take me. We could pop north and I could hire a car to
drive myself. Susan knows the Wall well, as you now do, for the museum you
spoke of, and much of the Wall, was on G.M.Trevelyan's property where she
used to stay on visits. She did agree it was a pull up and down the hill,
but worth it. Scotland I hardly feel I know. I took my mother there once,
from Wales, and went up to a castle rented for the grouse season by the father
of an Australian classmate at Magdalen. But then it was golf rather than
forts.

The trip to Eastbourne sounded equally an accomplishment and I
am glad you managed it, especially with Petrie. I had not realised, I fear,
that Queenwood was quite so very near your mamma's. But they seem to have left
you reasonably alone. I know how you feel about how distance shrinks. The
quad at the entrance of Magdalen was tiny compared to my memory, as was the
distance to the gate to Addison's walk. But I realised that I had lived in
a concocted memory of Magdalen, one from which the Shakespearean porter rudely
awakened me. Perhaps I will go back alone some time for a day or two and see
what if anything can be recaptured. Though I have to live so much in the

present that I hardly care.

I note about the Close Ups and can certainly find a few to send
the headmistress.

Thank you so much for all you have had done about going into
the case of Miss Bowra. It all sounds rather hopeless, but it is better to
know this than to think one might have done something else.

Kenneth is obviously deeply hurt about his manuscript, and I
sympathize with him. One would have thought $17,000 a good deal, unless
this was the total figure or represented the American rather than the
British royalties alone. So far as his castello is concerned I don't
think the loss will make much difference, but for his self respect of course
it does matter.

I did not understand his remark about not having heard yet from
Beney about Scilly. Was he supposed to be in the know about it?

Will try to write again tomorrow morning. All love as always,

Norman

15 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

We must drive into the country today for lunch with friends, but fortunately we do not have to start until one, so I have had rather longer at the office than I expected to. A few more things have, at any rate, been accomplished, and although the whole morning has not been spent in a letter to you, the most part of it has gone into letters for you. I have written Rose Odle about Miss Glitkin, written Miss Hichens and packed seven copies of Close Up for her (with contributions by you, D.R. Eisenstein, etc. Actually a valuable set as the market goes, for it had an H.D. contribution also, and each number usually sells for about a £).

Stupidly, I forgot yesterday afternoon to speak of your welcome cable which arrived yesterday about the notice of *Helen in Egypt* in the *Times*. Fortunately the Yale Library, I believe, takes the *Times*. It comes surface, but when it does arrive I shall hurry to it. Thank you for alerting me.

Let me see if I can jump through a few oddments. A letter from the Grolier Club said that a Douglas Ewing, of the Morgan Library staff, is "all keen to try to some checklist of the show, or, at least, an account of it." I wonder if he will. It would be nice.

I tried this morning to get Marya on the phone, but had no answer. She probably had a chance to go to the hospital in the morning. A letter from one of his nurses (sent with the bill) said, "Mr Gregory continues to show improvement and appears to be most anxious to start his writing again. We expect to sit him out in the chair next week."

We seem to be surrounded by sickness. But younger Susan's biopsy, after the operation for the removal of a tumor on her thyroid gland, was fortunately benign, so we are reassured on that score. On the other hand, our next door neighbor on Goodrich Street--a Hungarian doctor-- was on a Caribbean cruise with his wife while we were away, and had been only three days at sea when he was struck by a paralyzing spinal tumor, flown home, and we are told the case is terminal. He is in his early fifties, has an ex wife and three children to support, plus a new young one and two children of four, plus a raft of Hungarian refugees who depend on him. Then Susan's Aunt Katherine, of whose illness we told you, being frightened lest it keep us from seeing you, is now at home also dying of intestihal cancer. Susan has had to take over running the house and the two practical nurses we insisted on getting for her, at my expense, tho I will put in a bill to the estate if there is enough. Fortunately there is an ines in the house also to help. But it means daily visits and frequent phone calls for Susan, as moments of crisis develop. My poor brother, whose wife is mental and with whom he had arranged a divorce and established a trust fund for, is now in a quandary. She had been in the Southwest with a sister, when she cracked again, the sister simply put her on the plane for New York, her own daughter can't cope, my brother can't either, and she is now in a hospital in Vermont writing really crazy letters to Susan and myself.

There have been American Studies difficulties too, since Prof Lewis who was to have taken over when I left the chairmanship next year, has suddenly

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

16 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I had thought to be able to write you a reasonably full letter
today but, alas, when I called Marya after dinner to ask how Horace was, I
was tied to a lonely monologue for so long that it will frighten the bank when
the charge comes in. However she was in fine spirits and most hopeful. She
said that Horace had for the first time asked for a newspaper, has a little
color and expects to sit up for a few minutes next week. That is very good
news indeed.

Otherwise the day has been a considerable hell. I went first
to the Hamden postoffice to mail a package to you and two to your Queenwood
headmistress; and got to the office in time to read a little of my mail before
the first of the appointments which filled the rest of the morning. The only
two letters I managed to read however were (a) one in which there were such
pleas for me to mail out some material so that it could be there for a Friday
meeting, that I had to make a special trip again to the postoffice after lunch
to take care of it. The (b) was from the insurance people about Horace's costs,
saying that I would have to confer with the hospital for a different sort of
billing for him, get his doctor to make out that bill differently, consult ab out
he nursing, and they did hope all this could be arranged without inconvenience
to me. Then Mr Lewis came in, trembling with exhaustion and tension and saying
that if anyone asked him to do anything he would scream--which he did when I asked
if he could do his share of correcting exams, saying that he was going to Swarthmore
to correct theirs for a fee. So I have that pleasure alone. Upon which young
Susan called to say that she had at last and again made up her mind to a divorce,
but that they were being evicted from their apartment because the old bachelor
upstairs didn't want children in the house. I am glad she has made up her mind,
and am happy to try to find them a new place to live--but, of my, just at this
moment. I had expected a Korean professor to appear this morning (the one for
whom I had had to arrange things) and so saved lunch for him, but he did not come
and finally I had to go by myself in order to get to the doctor for my last flu
shot until fall. When I came back the Korean was here, and we spent the next
two hours while he talked and I tried to arrange his schedule in Philadelphia on
Thursday. Finally I sent him off to the Art Gallery (which was closed on Mondays)
and phoned Susan to say I would not be home for dinner, and asked if she had heard
from young Susan. She had, and also from Lizzie who had been struck in the rear
by another car with her own demolished (I gather) but fortunately she was not
hurt. At this time I got Philadelphia on the phone, and after arranging for the
Korean to go there was subjected to a tirade about the Art Gallery Committee on
which I serve, its inadequacy etc, since the head of the American Studies Program
at the University of Pennsylvania is the son of the chief donor to Yale who naturally
resents that his mother gives here rather than to him. Then there was another note
to say that another reader of final examinations would be out of town at that time--
he is a privileged dean--and that is about all for the day except for going home
and discussing it all before I try to prepare for my next class tomorrow.

Three letters have come from you today but I have not had time to
open them. Now I rush to the post office for the third time to post this and other
letters.

Remember me in your prayers,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I'm sorry there was no letter from me yesterday. I had thought the English Department faculty meeting would be out earlier than it was, and the first of the day was confused by having to make certain that everything was in order for the senior comprehensive examination which starts tomorrow.

There was nothing in the mail this morning, but two last notes came from you yesterday, for which my thanks. Also a letter from Mr Fell, which I enclose. He will perhaps wait to write until the book finally reaches him. I had written him about it, after you gave your OK for me to order it by mail. It was cheaper than doing it through the Co-op. It should be just what he is looking for. Your two were both of the 14th. I am delighted that you saw the exhibit of Swedish Viking gold, which I had seen in Chicago at Christmas. I was made breathless by it, having no idea of how magnificent their culture could be. I keep thinking of the Vikings on the simpler Greenland terms. I wish I had time to see the Sutton Hoo material again when I went, but the Elgin marbles filled in a gap and that was all we had time for. #I shall think of you en passage with the toque. But how lucky that it was not an overnight trip to Switzerland, though you would have choked to death with real magnificence. #I hadn't realised that Rose didn't care for Miss Glitkin. I hope she won't feel I forced her to accept the student. Still, better to have a slightly pedantic work with the details; then critics stimulated by her and Horace's book can begin. #Delighted of course that you have gone along with M. Beney and begun clearing up what was left in London from your Mamma's things and from Lowndes. Much better to have them taken care of, since you are not likely to want them again. So why not pop over for a few days in June. You could run down to see Rosemary, who obviously needs your comfort and support. It does look as if she should change housekeepers. The question of the present dame's age can only grow more difficult with each month. #Many thanks for the two notebooks from Zurich, which have also arrived. I bark thanks. Two yellow-backs have also come, with interesting letters, but nothing of great consequence to comment on.

To go back to your letters of the 12th(2) and 13th. The reunion sounded like one of the best, perhaps because you were so full of Queenswood thanks to Petrie. #I note re *The Purple Cloud* and will donate to some local charity. Susan thought as you did about it. # You did have rather a time of it with Margaret Phillips who seems to be sharing what in this age must be a normal domestic hysteria. #I did order the Papa Hemingway book, and sent it off long since. Perhaps it will be waiting for you in Switzerland. I have also posted the script of *Julieta and the Spirits* in paperback, which I thought might interest you and Elsie. It gives both the projected versions and what was later actually filmed. # And I do thank you for the clipping about Helen in Egypt. Very good, I thought, and helpful. We each do our bit for her, and one of the best means is by letting the right, or interested people, have copies of her book. I have just bought another copy of *Palmypses* in case the Colgate Press does decide to print. # Your visit to Rosemary must have been a godsend to her, but why did you have to pay God for it so soon after delivery by having to listen to the narration of your driver. It was nice of the British army not to interfere

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

but to let sleeping Gurkhas lie, but as you say why pour all this into your ears when you are not in the position of having to enforce the policy? You were wise to let him go while you visited with Petrie. I shall be eager to see her book when the time comes.

I think I did not write you that I had had a letter from my friend David Bruce, the Ambassador in London, saying he had just seen Romaine in Florence and that she had told him I had the only copy of her book. He offered to try to help with a London publishing friend, so I will call the manuscript back from Helen, from whom I have heard nothing, have it xeroxed, and send a copy to the Ambassador. He just might be able to pull it off. But this is another coincidence with Romaine, like that of meeting the head of the Washington gallery. No word from her after our visit or my letter to her, but really no reason for any. She has her heart set on getting the book in print, and I only hope I can help her.

Pup's letter was interesting. They had not known Elizabeth had broken her ankle when I was there, or Susan. But I believe this kind of a break is a comparatively simple one. The *two* Hilda pins she spoke of included the Danish one which we added, as from you. They seem to have meant a lot to her. You were clever to think of it.

What fun it would be if the Richards were to be at Wesleyan next year as D.R. mentioned. Middletown is as you know only a half hour from New Haven and I could run you up easily. And I could take advantage of the chance to know them better. One might put I.A. on one side of the room reading his poems, and Leslie on the other with his guitar and chanteys.

Marya's letter seemed in good spirits all things considered. She still seems to think the Major Medical is something quite new, while it is only new to her. It is amusing, as when I talked to her over the phone, to find how practical she now feels she is, assuring me that she had carefully filled out all statements for the returns. Perhaps it was mean of me, but I told her that I had had the letter from Sarah Lawrence and that, as matter-of-factly as possible, when the check came she could send it to me. I felt I had to. Otherwise it will go into the travel fund.

All is pretty much the same as ever. I gather that Lizzie's car was pretty thoroughly smashed, so I suppose she will have to have a new one. And Susan's aunt now has to have a night nurse as well as the ones for daytime. She grows a little weaker all the time.

So, sometimes, I think I do too. But that's not a very good joke, under the circumstances.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

19 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

The office even more than usually a bedlam today because of the first half of the departmental examinations. Instructors in and out, questions coming and going. And after lunch, since I have my stack of fourteen two-day papers to correct, I attended a cram session for correctors. How otherwise would I have known the answers? Indeed, the man who made the exam out didn't, confusing a Jared Ingersoll (who was named to be identified) with a Charles Jared Ingersoll whom he had in mind. He also put down "McDowall Colony" to be identified, forgetting the Mac part of it. But I got that right; I said it was one of the thirteen original literary colonies on these shores.

A very nice letter indeed came today from Romaine telling about her meeting with David Bruce, and saying it was he who was arranging for her pictures to be at the Smithsonian. She purrs at that. To begin the ball rolling I called Helen at the office, and then at home where she was celled up with Uwe Johnson and seemed harrassed at my interrupt-ion. But she said she would have a xerox copy made of Romaine's ms, which she hadn't read, which she would send to me to send to Bruce. I asked if if she wanted me to get any of Giselle Freund's prints to use, but she thought not. Alas, I don't have any new ones by 'slay, but perhaps can dig out one of my own if you don't go to Rome this summer.

Marya phoned, really very nicely I thought, to say she had received the first of the checks from Major Medical and would have Horace endorse it and send to me. But I may pick it up tomorrow. I make a hurried trip to Nyack to see Horace and the hospital accounts office, and will fly to Palisades for Marya before turning around to come back to my exams. I have two feet high of term papers to correct, a dissertation to read, and my fourteen exams to correct, all before next Wednesday. But I must get them started on making out the correct bills for Horace.

I had a letter from the man at the Morgan Library who intended, I was told, to do something on the show. It seems he one day intends to do a Henty bibliography. He thought th e Dusty Diamonds show was "simply smashing." It sounds as though he has been reading British novels.

A whole bevy of letters from you came today, as well as an envelope with others in it. 15th, 16th(2), and 17th. I take it that your own dusty diamonds were smashing too! I shall remember your particular skills when the right moments come. It reminds me of the days when I used to take money out from Germany for the Jews -- not for the bankers but for little people who had to have something to fall back on. The kind you liked and helped so much. #I hadn't thought about the mariners' strike as affecting you, but of course it would. How lucky you were to be well prepared and reserved ahead of time. Your I.C.I. man sounded sensible and fun. # So does the electric Olivetti. I should be all for it, in terms of service. They are too sharp not to watch out for such things. # I was glad Elsie was in good humor. # Pastor Robinson will be your playmate from now on, or perhaps always was. May I wait until after exams to look up

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

20 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I did slip off this morning, in the fog, to see Horace
and talk with the Nyack Hospital, and had a moment with Marya after-
wards. When I returned in late afternoon, your letter from the Glockenhof
of the 18th was waiting for me. Odd how we live, you and I, together,
in double time: the moment when you wrote, which is different from the
moment I write, but equally real.

I'm not surprised that Joan turns on the Heydts, individually,
but just possibly her reversal from both is a good thing, if as she says
she wanted "to try it alone." Professionally, however, I think it was
risky not to leave her in contact with someone to whom she could turn in
an emergency. Certainly Dori was not likely to be that!

England does seem to be in a turmoil, and one wonders about
the tax now being levied on foundations. I hate it most because I do
believe in free trade in cultural matters especially. It is seldom good
when one has to depend on the state for everything, for politics inevitably
get mixed up with the patronage.

"Fido on the Road" does sound like fun. I was quite serious
in suggesting it. Like any great travel book ("With the Bible in Spain."
"Etruscan Places," "In Old Calabria," and "Walden") your eye could merge
with your heart in what you had to say. Still, I hope for the next volume
of memoirs, while there is still time to get it published in England.

Horace himself looked surprisingly improved. He had a sparkle
in his eye, waved his arm with vigor when he said he wanted to get back to
writing again, and generally was nearer his old self than even last fall.
But he is weak of course, and when the lunch hour came and with it his tray,
he could not help himself because he cannot lift with his hand. The nurse
had left early today, so in the end I had to feed him: soup, fish, beans
and potatoes. Then another private nurse, from next door, came and took
over. It was odd to feed him, and I was really glad to give way. But Horace
kept saying, "thank you" with each spoonful, and I think he meant it. He
says they now hope to get him back to Palisades in July, "better than he
has ever been."

But before I saw him I had a long session with the hospital
about having them remake their past bills in such a way as to suit Major
Medical. They were exceptionally kind and understanding. "This is a
community hospital, and he is one of our community. We take them in and
take care of them." But, they did whimper a little plaintively, that
Marya never did anything about the bills, and nothing has been paid since.
that first bill I repaid her. As I found out later when I went to see her,
she doesn't even open the envelopes, from the hospital, or his surgeon or
even the anesthetist who has sent a reminder. But she is very business-like,
as she assures me. She keeps Horace's unopened bills in one box, and her
own unopened bills in another.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

It looks as though the unopened hospital bills amount to a gross
of about $4,000.00, and the surgeon's bill was nearly $900.00, and so it
goes. Blue Cross and Major Medical will take care eventually of a substant-
ial portion of these, but the normal practise for Major Medical is for the
patent to pay, and then be reimbursed. Going over all the details took
an hour or so, and there was no time to visit his surgeon to get him straight;
but I will write him, and also Dr Prutting (as I must so that he will make
his bills out properly). Don't worry about the money, as I have enough in
the savings bank, and should be reimbursed by the insurance companies for
enough to keep me going. But I did instruct the hospital to send bills
directly to me to avoid confusion. It is not fair to them otherwise.

When I got to Marya's, she was at the postoffice, en route to
see Horace. But we went back to the house, where she had forgotten to
pay her maid, and I then took her to the hospital again, from which she
would return by bus. I must hand it to her. She visits him daily by
bus, and it must be a half mile from their house to the bus, and a mile
from the bus end to the hospital. She uses a heavy cane but manages it.

She was full of the fact that the younger grandson is to go on
an exchange fellowship to Tonbridge next year. He had been accepted at
Yale and Princeton, but is only just sixteen. So I think the year's
delay and experience will be good for him. He wants to go in the Navy,
for Naval law, and the Navy will pay his college expenses.

Now I must get back to my term papers, the exams, and the disserta-
tion. I shall not be idle for the next few days.

Welcome home again. And all love as always,

Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Spent the morning reading a graduate school doctoral dissertation on the manuscript revisions of Trollope Phineas Finn, vey thin material about what seems like a very thin novel. I failed it, but so had the three other reads. One always feels badly about this.

One of Susan's nephews came up for me to took to a girl who is a doctoral candidate at Columbia, writing her dissertation on Iris Murdoch. She is obviously able, but the subject seems thin, especially when one writes on only the first five of Miss Murdoch's novels. Not being an enthusiast for the Lady from Oxford, I don't believe I helped her much. But at least I gave them both lunch at the Lawn Club.

Since then I have been reading comprehensive examinations, and wonder at how much more in the way of facts and dates they know than I do. But they do not always seem to be able to structure their answers to a point, and lose in that way. But when I think how nervous they must be, I am inclined to give them all grades of 107.

There was nothing from you in the post this morning, but Helen did send along the xerox of Romaine's memoirs, and in a separate package came the galley sheets for *January*. Alas, I don't really see how I can get at them for a couple of days, so pressing is the deadline for grades for those who are standing for their degrees. But I will put Susan's keen eye at work, and she makes useful little pencilled marks in the margin when something seems suspicious. I can check later, when I do my own more intensive proof-reading. After midweek I shall airmail the xeroxes to the Ambassador.

Outside of this note to you, and writing two checks to send to Horace's nurses I have not tried to do a thing with correspondence, or in coming to decisions about what to do with the accumulated hospital bills. These have waited so long already, that a few days will make them no colder.

I shall be working at exams tonight and tomorrow also. No response as yet from Leslie to my letter about his use of the Library. I wrote him that he would receive the permanent freedom of the library at no cost to himself, but that there is a rule against listing him to anyone over 68, as Research Associate Emeritus. Indeed there is, and his one-year renewal last spring was limited to that because of the compulsory retirement age. Actually, as you know, I had to put up a bit of a scrap to get even that renewal from the Department because of his attack and dissociation. This time I did the negotiations for the free use of the library directly with the administration. I do hope Leslie will not be angry with me.

All love, as always

23 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I did not write yesterday, but spent the day solemnly reading the comprehensive examinations of the seniors. They write on and on. After all a lot can be regurgitated in six hours of penmanship. And their hands can grow tired, and my eyes match their weariness. Finally in desperation I watched a play on television last night after supper, and when that was over read the last half of the fourteen sets which were my allotment.

This morning I was to get down to grading graduate school papers. But the phone kept ringing, and worst of all the oral examinations for undergraduate honors candidates got messed up, the director only having posted the notice without sending out cards. So I had to leap in, find telephone numbers, see that they were phoned or sent messages to, and otherwise avert a catastrophe -- the second time this has happened, the other being when no standard majors were informed of the topics on which their examination was based. Then just as I was settling in, the express man came with the painting of Mexican newsboys which had gs in Goodrich Street, and had been on loan in Honolulu for an exhibition. It was returned airmail but brought to the office. They agreed to take it home, but I had to go with it since I could not agree it was in good condition without looking at it after unpacking. Then I had lunch with Ezra Pound's daughter, but of that later. Now I have time for only a note before I try to compose what I can say as a talk at a dinner tonight in honor of the retirement of two professors. I wish I could express how envious of them I am!

Yesterday after lunch we went to see Susan's Aunt Kathryn. She could hardly see me for the vision of death that fills the room. The nurse thinks she will not last the week. I think that must be true. She said nothing, but the visit pleased her I think.

Your letters of the 19th and 20th were here. I shall see that you have the Anais Nin. I ought to have thought of it for you. My apologies. But I am glad that the Hemingway was there to entertain you. Poor Elsie, what a real blow this is. I think it might be better if I wrote Prutting to send his bills henceforth directly to me. Then there will be more likelihood to collect for them, and I can if necessary take the amount from the savings account, and you can send me the cheque in the end (if you want to) to replace that amount. It is all the same. But will be tidier now that we have at least the hope of major medical. But I will not write Prutting until you have given me the OK.

Do forgive me for putting off for a bit the detailed answering of your letters. But I must get this in the box, and then think about my toast. That is, if I am capable of thinking at all.

All love,

24 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

I plod along, tired at least partly because of the constant interruptions during the day. Not students but faculty ask questions, and of course the secretary (experiencing all this for the first time) has to turn in my direction too for answers. Nevertheless I did the two sets of graduate papers for those seeking degrees, and am relieved on that score. Tomorrow we have an hours-long (pl.) English department meeting. If I can slip away I'll go to New York for the Academy party. But one will have to wait to see. Last night's dinner party for the retiring members of the Department was pleasant; I made the little talk-cumToast I was supposed to, and fortunately didn't stammer.

Your letters of the 21st and 22nd came today. Many thanks. I was somewhat puzzled by the blessing of Edith's memorial tablet. Why was no Sitwell there? Not even a nephew.

I have not yet had the letter from the Nyack Hospital about Horace's bill, but would have had no time to go into it if I had. By the end of the week, things should go more efficiently. In terms of insurance you ask about Lizzie's car. Although the fault was the other man's, and demonstrably so, our insurance people suggested I simply accept the $1,400 (less the deductible $50.00) rather than sue the other driver and waste months collecting. There will be 3-400 on salvage unless I want it repaired; but I don't, since the car is at least five years old and any damaged car makes one uneasy. So she went with her mother and picked out a new Triumph for something like $2,900 -- and at least she will have a new car. I knew she would have to be getting a replacement in a year or so, and I am no doubt lucky to accomplish it so cheaply.

I believe young Susan has put in for a six-months legal separation, after which if she wishes to she will put in for a divorce. Meanwhile she hopes to study at the Yale School for PublicHealth, part-time at first. Since this is not normally allowed, I have been putting in my wire-puller and hope it will work. This would also allow her to have a university apartment which would be cheaper than otherwise. I do not really mind helping, and she does need a little guidance. Most people do, who feel themselves decisive and efficient.

My feeling is to let Elsie do as she wants to. What good is a rocking chair if one can walk. The Ines situation is not likely to improve, but if it blows up then Elsie can find a nice Swiss woman to help her.

A letter came from Rose about the Glitkin. She says to go ahead, and so I will. But the life seems rather to have begun to run out of Rose's spirit. She no longer has the zest that once marked her. I am glad she could have her trip to the States. She is now being visited by someone she met while

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

here, and Pat is to visit her when he goes on his European holiday. This
is rather soon now, I think. Marya hoped that one of her grandsons might
come to stay with her while Pat is away. The change will do him good, and
he has earned it after this difficult winter.

I was most fortunate in a letter from Harcourt saying that I
could have until the 7th to get the galleys back to them. I should be
frustrated to have read them only under the present pressure.

A very nice letter came from Leslie, thanking for the Library
arrangement. He seemed quite pleased by it, by which he should have thought
it would be denied him I can't guess.

Collins has written about your generous offer. "This is rather
more than I should have felt comfortable in suggesting to you," he writes;
so it seems he is content. I shall write him to go ahead as I suggested,
with a memoir to be read in the distant future rather than now. By this I
mean 25 years. He is much more likely to give something useful this way,
and we avoid the problem of having to help get it published.

To return to yours of the 19th and 20th. As I said, I will get
the Nin to you. I should have done it on my own. Sorry; The situation
in England is obviously difficult, and it might indeed be a good idea to
pop back over and clear things up before your summer influx of visitors.
Unless you think they might wonder. But after all everything you are doing
is legal enough, the importance is in being timely. As to the torque, I
could weep crocodile tears that you were not photographed with it. What
a splendid appearance you must have cut. I am only sorry you were trapped
and had to call for help in extricating yourself. I daresay women with
chastity belts must have felt as you did. When you bring out the next-best
torque (how like Shakespeare's will that sounds) you must promise me to
visit the photographer. # We see Nellie Kirkham the next time. If the
government permits a next-time. # You will instruct me about Prutting. It
would simplify matters if I paid him from now on. # Thank you for the
clarification about Scilly. Much more sensible to change the name. # I
agree about the nemingway, and I must say I was interested.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

How glad I shall be when these particular days are over!

**Progress report:** John is of course very much upset by Hubert Creekmore's death. I doubt that Creekmore pulled his weight economically, but he did take care of office-housekeeping and office-sitting when John was out or away. John phoned yesterday morning, after I had read the paper. Apparently Creekmore had had a bad heart condition, had been to the doctor's that morning but had been told to go despite his pain, and so went on a longer journey than anyone guessed. But as John said, it was quick and he was feeling confident, the bills being paid for the first time, and books about to be published. John had wanted to call me on Monday night or Tuesday (I think he thinks I felt closer to Creekmore than I did), but has to carry all the burden of arrangements in New York. John was not going to Mississippi for the services (a wise decision), but he seemed pleased when I asked (really for John's sake) to have flowers sent in my name.

Susan's aunt continues to decline, and as of this noon Susan had not expected her to last out the day. But apparently she has. The nurses, and perhaps the doctor, wanted her taken to the hospital to be given intravenous feedings to prolong her life. Susan and I agreed in the negative. For what possible reason should one prolong her agony and unhappiness?

Young Susan had an interview at the Yale School of Public Health, and it looks as though she would be accepted for part time study next year. The lists are normally closed by now, but perhaps my friendship with the Dean of the Medical School helped. I hope she can; it will give her something to do, and enable her to use a university apartment, which the Housing Bureau is reserving for her "in case." Fortunately I know that man too, and he is most helpful.

Your letter of the 23rd was in yesterday's mail, but today's had nothing. The objection to the publication of the Hemingway book was publicly put on financial grounds, since it was thought this might be most appealing at law. The argument was (a) it would lessen receipts from the already commissioned but not yet written official biography; (b) that it invaded Mrs Hemingway's privacy. There were other arguments but these were the chief ones. They were both dismissed. The true reason is that Mrs Hemingway still will not admit that he committed suicide, at the end or attempted it before. It is a lie she has to believe in, or thinks she has to. Otherwise she was not the perfect spouse, the comforting mate, the rock as well as the roll of his life. Like Mrs O'Neill she wants to assume the role of the perfect inspirer, and will indeed devote the rest of her life to demonstrating this by her care for the estate and reputation. This comes from Cowley who knows her well. It is like what cannot be said about Faulkner: that he disliked his wife and spent as much time as possible away from her. The other is that he died of alcoholism. Americans don't go in for Rimbaud images of the self.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

27 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

How happy I shall be if only I can get my last undergradu-
ate papers done by tomorrow. And perhaps, too, to get a long night's
sleep. Last night we took an Indian professor and his wife to the Lawn
Club, to escape the difficulty of preparing a vegetarian meal for those
who do not even eat eggs. (Neither does Sylva Norman, for that matter.)
After dinner we went to the house, and what a talker he is! Absolutely
nonstop. One might have thought that communication had for the first
time been opened from east to west. But he is very pleasant, and I liked
his wife. She is working in a garment factory so that he can read his
books.

Your letter of the 25th came this afternoon. I had read an
advertisement for the Masefield and thought you would be likely to buy
it. I will read when I am next on your side. Did I tell you that Lady
V's book had come? It has and I am your debtor. I wait until student
papers are done.

I shudder to think of the ordeal you will have while they are
redoing the furnace. If only one didn't have to be there. But one does,
and I daresay it is better so. If water gets too scarce then perhaps
Elsie will relish Ines's wine.

Yesterday's mail brought the check from Marya, endorsed by
Horace. But since it is not made over to me, it is like cash and I must
take to the bank by hand I think rather than trust in the open mail. But
very nice of her to send it along so promptly. Every day now I make out
at least one check for them, or for Susan's aunt. For her, however, there
will not be many more. No word has come from the Nyack Hospital. I shall
have to check on Tuesday after the Monday holiday.

What an incredible thing this payroll tax is. Even from Wilson's
point of view I can't think it is sound. And surely a country is entitled
to some degree of luxury. Even Russia permits that. I do agree. Better
to get one's affairs straightened out, and then become purely a visitor.

The Ingholts come in tonight, to see the Buddha and the Hittite
figures. I shall report tomorrow.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

28 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

At least I have finished the undergraduate papers, with the exception

of one set that has not yet been turned in. I feel like a victor, though this
won't last long when I begin the graduate student papers. But sufficient has
been the evil unto this day, and I shall not make another grade until the next
sun rises.

There was no letter from you today, and because of the holiday
on Monday I shall not hear until Tuesday. What a long wait. But I hope you
will have sent me the answer as to whether I can ask Prutting to bill me
directly. I have not yet heard from the Nyack Hospital, but perhaps the bills
are too complicated even for them. I have paid the nursing bills this morning--
a twice weekly task, and had the good sense to discover that an earlier male
nurse had not given me his registry number. So I had to write him to ask
for it, because of insurance requirements. Managing Marya's affairs really
does keep me busy. The money seems to be only a small part of it. There is
nothing to be done about it, but as you say I think they have come to re::iè
co mpletely on the two of us, and make little or any effort to cope on their
own. Nor do the two children make much effort, but of course they have their
own lives to live. But if anything happens to Horace, I am simply going to
have to get a bank to take over her affairs. I can't spend my life doing it.

Susan's aunt is still unconscious but hangs on. I have just
finished writing a draft of her obituary, with blank spots for the day of
death and funeral. Extraordinarily enough, we have discovered she was married
before she married Susan's uncle. It was never spoken of, and the niece with
whom Susan checked thought it better not to mention this in the notice. He was
a Yale graduate was all she knew besides his name. I find there was one who
graduated from the music school. Some day I shall have to dig into the mystery.
But Susan's uncle is a bit of a mystery to me as well. He died in 1952, long
after my marriage but I have no memory of having met him. Susan says I must
have, but when?

When John phoned me about Creekmore's death, I asked about
Valentine's summer plans. They sound excellent. A client of John's, named Richard
Dunlap, is to take a motor trip in August while he gathers material for a book
or article on the Oregon Trail. He will take his son and V alentine and perhaps
two other boys. Valentine can take pictures, and if any turn out well he will
use them in his articles. I am all for this; it will get the boy away, show him
the country; teach him some history.

I tried yesterday to buy you your copy of Anais Nin's new book,
but it is sold out and we will have to wait for the reprinting which is now
in the presses. A surprise apparently to all. The Co-op will ship you one
off immediately by airmail when it comes. I have the feeling you should not
have to wait a month after it reaches New Haven, for it may help with the memoirs.

Wednesday afternoon, as I wrote you, I took the train to New York
for the American Academy eremorial. Bill Meredith, a friend of mine, received
the Loines Prize for poetry (a much lesser one than Hilda's) and it was a compli-

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

to him to be there. I had thought not to go, at the last minute, but having
been at departmental meetings all morning I finally decided to get out of
town. I was late, but missed little; and even had a chance to spend a few
minutes at the Museum of the American Indian to see what they had on display
of their Eskimo artifacts. They had some nice things, but I think mine would
stand up reasonably well alongside them. The best of mine, that is. I saw
Marianne on the stage, but she must have tired and slipped out after the cer-
emony for I did not see her at the reception. I did however see Ivor and
Dorothy Richards and had a pleasant conversation, especially with her. I think
she was a little surprised I knew so much about Queenwood. "I have really no
feeling for it at all," she said; "he [Ivor] has taken over my life so completely
that it crowds all else out." They have accepted the invitation for next year
from Wesleyan University, and will arrive at the end of September. We made
plans to meet then. They have no car, and I am afraid will feel a little isolated
after Boston. But the remuneration is good.

The evening dragged on rather longer than I intended, for the head of
the Wesleyan Press asked if I would dine with him and then go back on the train
together. I agreed but then found he had to sponsor James Dickey who had also
been given an award, and it was 8:30 before we got downtown for dinner. This
meant no train until the 10 o'clock which pokes it way and did not arrive until
nearly midnight. He had no car here and it looked as though I should have to
drive him the thirty further miles. But he girded his loins and took a taxi
for $16.00, a blessing to me since I should have fallen asleep at the wheel.

It has been warm and muggy here, and I am adrip. I must run home
now and change for a cocktail party in honor of a departing dean who is getting
his degree in American Studies and goes to be President of a new college in the
Fall.

I will repprt tomorrow on Ingholt and the Hittites.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

29 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

It has been a busy day. The phone rang this morning a little after six. Susan's aunt had died at five, mercifully. The last day or two must have been in hell for her, but whether she actually knew it one luckily doesn't know. Susan was rather extraordinary, in calling the undertaker to come to get her aunt, then re-calling the maid and nurse to say she had done so, and finally going back to sleep. But the latter was at least partly due to the pills she had taken for a heavy cold. By noontime all arrangements had been made for the funeral on Wednesday morning (she wanted a low episcopal mass sung--there were directions), we had been to the house to pick up the papers and collect the keys and make the necessary arrangements for closing it, got the t.v. set I had rented for the aunt and nurses, selected the clothes for burial, and been to the funeral parlor, chosen coffin and vault, handed over the obituary notice I wrote yesterday, and finished all the details. Susan has been setting crystallization plants in the garden this afternoon, and I have been plugging away at the office. It looks a little better, but there are still piles to be cleared away.

Actually there wasn't really very much to report about Ingholt's visit. He was much taken by the Buddha, and thought the carving of the robes was good (perhaps 4th century) but the base was somewhat later in design, and it was interesting for him to see how the folds persisted in style. He was also enthusiastic about the Hittite figures and said he thought they were very much worth getting. Probably from a temple. He busily made notes and said he would try to research a little. I was much interested to learn that the little man on the back of the bull was the weather god.

Perhaps you too have had a card from Needham saying he had had "a remarkable two hour audience with the Dalai Lama, also with his two tutors." So the trip did have its climax after all, and I think Needham will have sweet dreams for the rest of his life. I can think of few of our projects that have a nicer shine. He expects to be back in New Haven about June 1st, after London and Oxford and the Tibetan collections there. I shall have my ears filled.

Did I write you that they are at long last going to let the Oxford Anthology of American Literature go out of print? I shall miss the royalty checks each year, but I cannot say I blame them. There was no point in trying to revise it, and thirty years is a long span for an unaltered anthology to keep on selling to schools. I keep being offered chances to do new ones, but there are other things I have to finish first.

All love as always,

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

30 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Memorial Day, and so no secretary. But plenty of phone calls
from students asking silly questions, at least silly for me to have to be
answering. When I could answer them at all. Meanwhile I have been keeping
at my desk, and now mine seems a little emptier and Mrs Sherman's much
fuller with drafts of letters of recommendation and other letters too for
her to copy neatly when she comes in.

I have written Rose Odle and Miss Glikin. I have written
Scribner's Sons about Hilda's book. And I have written the Gnomen Press
in San Francisco who wanted to print separately "Hematic Definition" which
they thought Scribner's was going to omit. They weren't to have even if their
plan was followed.

I have written Romaine Brooks, and I have written Ambassador
Bruce, about the memoirs. And I undid the package from Helen thinking it
contained the xerox of the manuscript, which I could post tomorrow morning.
She had said she could have it done there easily, and I said FINE. But
I suppose, poor child, that she thought this too good a way to get the
manuscript off her hands. So now I shall have to take it over to Yale
Library tomorrow to have the copy made. I brought down my second copy
of _Land to the West_ to send Merwyn Dobson, and have wrapped that. I had
ordered one sent by Blackwell's in order to save time. But they report
that Collins has let that go out of print too. It was remaindered here,
and I shall have to try to see if I can get a few copies for reserve stock.
I am always recommending it. I should have thought it a good book for
Penguin.

I was frivolous only once, and took time out to answer your
questions about Phyllis's Henty grandchildren. I think you must re-read
the gossipy letters by the female researcher, especially now that you have
seen the daughters twice. Phyllis, who was Mrs Edmonds at the time of the
visit did have the two children of her own, Joanna and Rodney Henty Edmonds.
Joanna is the girl in question. They seem to have had a big house at the
time, but Mr Edmonds and his wife apparently did not get along very well,
and he was unkind to both children, granting them almost none of their legiti-
mate wishes. But he had a bad heart condition. Mrs Packard as rather more
eccentric and untidy than I found her, but she was then the wife of a poor
curate with a substantial family and no money.

For want of news, I enclose two clippings which might interest
you. Perhaps Rose would later like to see the one on Palisades. That on
the Smithsonian I thought you might be interested in (toss it) because of Ripley
whom you met, and because of the fact that I am about to be a Counsellor of
the Institution, one of ten or so who are to meet (according to him) to advise
on policy. Probably we will be window dressing, but he dresses well.

Trust the pipes will be working soon. I think of you brushing
your teeth in brandy.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

31 May 1966

Dearest Fido,

Here it is, almost the end of the morning and I have accomplished nothing. Well, I suppose that is not entirely true. I began by returning the rented t.v. set (for Susan's aunt) to the shop whence it came; then took back to the Yale Housing Bureau the keys for two apartments for younger Susan so she could look at them over the long weekend; and then went to the savings bank to draw enough money for Lizzie's car and for Horace's accrued hospital bills when they send me the statement. Oh yes, and I took over to the library to be xeroxed the ms of Romaine's memoirs. But what with these and with seeing students and with getting the office on the road for the week, I have done no letters nor corrected any papers nor gone further with the galleys for January. And tonight for dinner we have the nephew of the aunt, with his wife, for supper -- they arriving a day early for the funeral tomorrow. He and the bank are executors of the will, so we can set a few things straight.

Susan had a fine day at the shore yesterday, with her two girls and the grandchildren for a picnic lunch. But she worked so hard in the garden, not having really recovered her spading strength, that by dinner time she was exhausted. I went alone, as a consequence, to see the Arts Festival, on the Green, wandered around as it was closing, bought a vase on exhibition for $8.00 from the maker, and came home and read while Susan slept.

Four letters from you made a windfall in the mail. Of the 24th, two of the 27th and one of the 28th, if they were dated correctly. Sorry to have assumed you knew the MacDowell Colony: it is in New Hampshire, founded some fifty years ago by a composer with little cottages rented for nothing or next to nothing where writers, composers and painters can go for the summer. One is left strictly alone all day, and gather ensemble only at night. Robinson, Benet, Millay, most of that generation went there. #No wonder you were confused by my letters. About photographs, I had written Giselle Freund who said she would send me a copy of the photograph of you, for the archives; but also said she would send you contact prints of all of them if you want. She has many of you also in color. I had thought Helen might be interested in using some for January. She thought not, because they were too old (by which I mean you were too young in them). But we have run out of fresh photographs to release, and if you do run down to see the boys, perhaps Islay could take one or two new ones. Each paper wants a different one. But if he does, see if you can get a different background (or none at all) so that these won't seem like all of the earlier ones he has taken.

Naturally I'm glad there's an excuse to get back to the Wall for another visit. Perhaps some day we can coincide.

I will write Prutting once things quiet down. Tomorrow will be more or less "out" because of the funeral. Custom insists that we have a buffet lunch for mourners from out of town.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

I must say it looks as though the Editor of the Times had goofed in refusing Sachie's tribute. I liked the "is now published by the *order* of Lord Brownlow. Many thanks for taking care of the Collins matter. I shall be writing him too; his is one of the few (comparatively) I still have to do.

This is all a little puzzling about the trust fund and Philip's
Undertaking that it should be left to someone in England. Perhaps M. Coigny's
advice would also be useful in the matter. By this I mean that having found
out on your July visit exactly what the facts and documents are, you might
do well not to act on it until you have spoken with Coigny. But of course
in any event this will mean, I should think, having to explain to Philip
about your Swiss will. Otherwise he will want a codicil to your earlier
British one, with the codicil dated later than your Swiss one, and seeming
to revalidate the British at the expense of the Swiss. Life is too compli-
cated, I feel.

As I wrote, Needham planned to go to England for the sake of
the B.M. and Oxford, where both have excellent Tibetan collections. And
having worked on the Gothic facsimiles of Yale, I think he wanted to see
Oxford anyway. But he will have planned it so he didn't need help. He
should be back in New Haven in a few days. My ears will be filled! But
I do hope he has had fun.

Quick vs quickly? I suppose there is a tendency here to use
the adjective as a firmer emphasis of what was quick, rather than the
action in the verb. One would still say, he jumped quickly into the air--
but on occasion it would mean something a little different to say he made
a quick jump into the air.

I said the world was difficult. It is! Helen phoned me last
Friday, and has now sent me the details of Trevelyan's refusal of *January*.
Neither of us can understand it. His earlier letters seemed enthusiastic,
but no word having come she finally cabled him and he answered by wanting
to know what the terms were. She wired him the identical terms as with
Collins. His answer was "Terribly sorry declining Bryher writing." Helen
is heartbroken. I needn't say what I feel, except the horrible thought
that I might inadvertently have muffed it when I was in London. I just
don't know. Helen's covering letter says:

I am of course very embarrassed now, since Collins would have done
this book no doubt, in view of their interest in Bryher as a histor-
ical novelist, and the good results they had with *Coin of Carthage*.
But London gossip being as it is, I cannot very well re-offer them
a book that has been offered elsewhere and declined. And naturally,
Bryher will lose out on the anniversary date. I am afraid it is going
to be a great blow to her and it certainly is a great blow to me.

Of course Raleigh's putting it on the costings is just a way of
evading a statement of his true reasons. If he had wanted the book,
he might have suggested alternate terms.

My only possible guess as to what happened is that I made an error in saying

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

I blamed Adrien House for the difficulty over Avalon. Trevelyan jumped to House's defense, blaming Collins, and gave every indication of being a close friend of House. If this is so he might not want to be in the position of seeming to take away a Collins author from a friend. For if, on the other hand, Trevelyan simply felt that there had been too many books out this year on Hastings, that would have been a simple matter to state. And indeed, since your book is on the aftermath I doubt that in the long run it would be much affected one way or the other by the anniversary.

At the moment I am too tired to think very clearly about all this, and will have to have a conference with Helen on what the next step should be. We will find one, but will want to move carefully. I don't just want to send the manuscript to anybody, so don't want to involve any of your friends in going to theirs. It may be that it is best to wait until Helen's trip this summer. Or, if necessary, I could perhaps pop over briefly during the summer.

I feel terribly guilty.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

1 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

When the last of the post-funeral luncheon guests had gone, I lay down on the living room couch and had a nap. It was good for me but bad for my office hours, since this meant (what with going to the garage to arrange for the spring checkup for the Oldsmobile) that I did not get to the office until nearly four. And at four-thirty I am supposed to be at final meeting of this year's International Student Center board, to be followed by a reception for the departing managers.

No letters from you today. Yesterday's bonanza must have paralyzed the postman.

The funeral went without a hitch. Last night for dinner we entertained Mrs Wright's favorite nephew (70) and his wife, and I could go over a little of the situation with him since he with the bank is the executor of her estate. I am only glad Susan isn't to be shouldered with that. The estate is tiny, but for that very reason the disposal of personal effects is the more difficult. I didn't come to the office but went instead to the postoffice to mail Romaine's ms to the Ambassador and buy stamps, then to the jewelry shop to take a bureau check to be cleaned. They had the acutron catalogue in, and I found my micky mouse model is known as Spaceview. The only one listed is at $150.00 but they think mine may be somewhat more because of the extra gold. They will inquire, as for insurance purposes. Then home to read some papers and wait for the funeral limousine to come. WE were early at the church, were seated in the front row, and had a time of it (in such a high church) trying to hunch when we should stand or kneel (actually we only bow heads, being so very low!) Then afterwards in the line of cars to the cemetery for the final rites and blessing of the grave there, and then back to the house to receive the guests. Susan has the cards of those who sent flowers, to send thankous to, but she was eager to get back to planting her crysan-themum plants.

A letter from Colgate University said the trustees of the Press wanted to test the sales of their reprint of Llewellyn Powys first before tackling *Palimpsest*. Being dubious about the lasting powers of Powys, I am no elated for Hilda's chances if they must rest on such a foundation.

This is not our moment.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

2 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

Mostly today I have been working on the proofs for *January*.
Actually they have done a good job with them, but I can read only so
many pages by comparing the original with the galleys before I go blind.
I also realise that I've never sent you a contract for the transfer of
rights, but will try to do that the first thing next week when Mrs Sherman's
tasks begin to let up. (One hopes!)

Yours of the 29th and 30th were in the morning post. Your card
from Needham, and mine, were verbatim. He shows no favoritism. # How lucky
you are to be able to divert to the train for Montreux. The crowds of
traffic must be intense. Lizzie reported that on Memorial Day the backed
up cars at the toll stations on the throughway reached over two miles at
one point. # Osbert's letter seemed more cheerful. I was ravished by the
story of the shoe that suddenly began to grow on the madman's foot.

My mind keeps returning to Philip and the agreement on the
British funds. Why does he remember it only now? You had nothing to
cover this in your earlier wills, did you? Or is this a very recent
transfer. I only hope that word hasn't gotten to him about the Swiss
will, from Kenneth or Islay if he handles their affairs. In any event
you will have to be careful not to add a codicil to an already invalid
will.

I was fascinated today to read in a ms catalogue, a quote from a
four-page letter from 'ame Edith to "Dearest Christabel": "I hope the Coral
Island is pleasant to look at. It's a charming book, and I associate you with
Coral. Then it is a rarity (it must be five years since I started hunting).
Then the illustrations are as beautiful as the pictures inside the lids of
cigar boxes -- the picture of "Our Little All is of an impropriety worthy
of Dr. Freud. Rex saw it and wanted to buy the book. I hope it won't affect
his drawings...." So I turned detective. Your copy had no illustration of
"Our Little All," but the first edition did. But I am eager for you to see
it and interpret Edith's "impropriety!" Not even in my wildest Freudian dreams
could I see what she means. The items, all catalogued, were: The Coral Rock,
the telescope, the axe, the pencil-case, the penknife, the tinder, the whipcord,
and the oar. Oh yes, there is an unlisted shell in the corner, but most ungenital.
I cannot wait for you to come with your Freudian experience, and interpret (a)
the picture, or (b) Dame Edith.

This seems to be a letter of quotations. I have had an essay sent
me by a graduate school student in Pennsylvania, who wants to know if he
should come to Yale to work with me : "can I be true to American Studies and can
it be true to me?... Did you feel with your eyes the morning snow-prints outside
Thoreau's Walden Pond home; did tears of respect roll from your eyes when
Emerson stepped down from the pulpit; were you with Whitman when he wandered into

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

3 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I have just had a phone call from Needham to report in. He sounded jubilant, having not only seen the Dalai Lama but the Dalai Lama's mother too, and then the head of Sikkim and his American wife (Hope). Who could ask for anything more? I am to wait a few minutes before going to the garage to pick up my car, while he trots up from the furniture store to bring me "something old."

I have been having the usual spring checkup on the car, while they test here and there, grease here and there, and here and there paint the spots that have been nipped during the winter. The motor uses a little more oil than it might, but generally speaking the car seems to be in good shape. Mostly, I think, because I do have it tuned twice a year. I am not quite so fussy as Kenneth, but I don't use it as much and can make one last longer. With mine fixed, I shall have to take Susan's in to have it fixed while she can borrow mine. Once we go to the shore, such borrowing becomes more difficult.

We are now cookless, Susan having given Catherine notice some time ago. For it would be a little more difficult at the shore without the help of a chauffeur to drive the servants to church and to town, as Mrs Bennett had. So you will have your suite back again, and Susan will have the house to herself. Poor Susan -- she so loves to cook, and is such a perfectionist that anyone besides herself is an intruder in the kitchen. She is a little, in that way, like Elsie. As for me, I shall of course eat better and have a little more money for other bills, but I shall miss the extra quarter hour of sleep in the morning, and the time I shall now have to spend washing dishes at night and, as this morning, when Susan goes to New York, as well as having someone at the house to take messages. But I daresay it all balances in the wash. At the moment I feel somewhat washed-out.

I really finished that paragraph after Needham's visit. He was ecstatic and does seem to have managed to do all he set out for. His gift was a Tibetan travelling shrine, just the ting for me to have waiting for you in your suite at Goodrich Street. Who else would provide you both with a shrine and a typewriter? Shall I look for a prayer wheel?

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

4 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I finished checking the galleys of *January* against the typescript, and so have spent most of today paying first-of-the-month bills, writing further letters of recommendation for students (the letters are endless) and trying to bring order out of chaos by one device or another. Tonight and tomorrow I will give *January* another, this time straight through reading just to catch what I can. Susan has already done this and proved she had a good eye.

How marvelously the book reads! It is really one of your very best. Of course it has sadnesses in its overtones, and this may make it more of an older person's book. But as with *Avalon* its audience will be loyal.

It's a little hard to summarize all of Needham's rapid-fire account last evening. As I told you he brought me a travelling Tibetan shrine, about the size of an army canteen, and is I should think really the silver (with a little gold) case for a shrine rather than the shrine itself, although I suppose a shrine needs no statuette in it to be a shrine. With the Dalai Lama he spent his two hours discussing whether the poem or the drawing came first in ancient Tibetan scrolls, and this engrossed the Dalai Lama so he kept on and on. The others liked it because Needham didn't get on to politics as most visitors do. He had all sorts of adventures by jeep and brush plane in getting to his remote corners, but apparently the Tibetans were much flattered by his visit and did everything possible to help him. He seemed to get a particular pleasure out of meeting the American girl from Sarah Lawrence who married the ruler of Sikkim. "Of course I have heard of you Mr Needham; I have read about you in the Yale Alumni Magazine." In Oxford and London it rained, but he liked that too, although I think the Oxford trip meant more for the buildings than anything else. He was there for Eights Week, and the bumping apparently bewildered him. He has solemnly told me that he did not need to spend any of the extra five hundred dollars I gave him as an insurance in case of crisis, and will return that next week.

Your letter of the 31st has arrived, and I suffer compassionately at all the noise that must be echoing in the hallways. Young Susan's interest in public health does seem strange on the surface. But a couple whom they knew well and admired was involved in it (he is now with the government in Washington) and did much to give her the idea of doing good at a good salary before she thought of it herself. The music does not appeal to her except as an avocation, and occasional professional engagements as a singer. But a livelihood from music would be difficult. So last year she took two preliminary courses at a state college in town (in the sciences) with this in mind. She was very active in the Planned Parenthood League, speaking to various groups etc., and this too is linked.

We do expect you about the 25th of August or whenever you can come.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

5 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

90° today, and not a time for the office. Susan has taken ad-

vantage for her garden, and this afternoon was planning to go to the shore. I have pounded away at my typewriter. Thirteen letters appealing for fund for the International Student Center (my penalty for having been a Founding Father), and each letter having to be given its own slant. Then putting our bills together for Susan's dead aunt, so I can call the executor tomorrow and see what they feel the estate should or could pay. Then writing letters and making phone calls so a Japanese professor can get into the Melville Museum in Pittsfield on Tuesday. Filing letters and material which Mrs Sherman doesn't ever quite get around to doing. She is what my mother used to call "deliberate" in her motions. And paid bills, this being the time of the month. All of these are tedious but effective, and my desk looks better.

I phoned Marya this morning to ask after Horace. She is alone, Pat already having started his three-week holiday. She had thought, or hoped, that a grandson might come, but I gather it hasn't worked out that way. Pat is to be chiefly in London, since his friend who was in Ireland now lives in London and Pat will stay with him. Then I gather Paris. As for Horace she seemed much encouraged: he sits up in a chair for extended periods and so can read; is fuller in the face from gaining a little weight, and is always hungry, "and he criticises the menu, which he normally never does, and criticises my clothes, as he often does, and so I guess he's really better." I asked about the letter from Rose about Miss Glikin, and she said it had come but she thought she wouldn't answer it until September, since Horace's book had been postponed. Anyhow she and Horace didn't like or trust Miss Glikin and didn't think she was much of a critic, too academic, and they thought she was pushing. I suppose all this may be true but the PMLA article was useful, and she has worked hard, and if she misses the summer will miss the one period of the year when most academics normally can do their own work. (How jealous I am of them!) So we finally agreed that Miss Glikin could see the papers, but nothing could be published until after Horace's book is out. Beyond that I don't see what more the Gregories can ask. And even if Rose isn't as keen on Glikin as she would be on Edel, I think she'll be happier knowing that the spadework has done and her responsibility ended.

Oh yes, to return to Horace the only thing is that the what seems to be a kidney infection remains after the colostomy, and the doctors are somewhat afraid he may have a prostate difficulty. This would not be unusual, but I hate to think of his having to have still a third operation this time.

A few odd questions. Can you send me Mervyn Dobson's address? I can't seem to lay my hands on anything but his former one, not having filed recent letters to you, and want to send him the copy of _Land to the West_. And was it Wjfitwell's _British Agent_, reviewed so favorably as authentic in the TLS, you said you had gotten?

Various yellowbacks have come in and been perused. I was interested in Urzidel's account of the Gruppe 47 meeting at Princeton; this being part of the

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

flood which has recently enguilfed poor Helen. # Margery seems quieter but a
little more like her old self again. Should one buy a simple sunlamp for
Stephen Lewis? If it really helps, and since they are not that expensive,
I should think she herself would. There must have been a very strong attach-
ment between Judith Masefield and herself.

One of the things I painfully did today was to type out a contract
for January, which I enclose and hope you will sign and have witnessed. Until
I have it, I can't sign the contract with Harcourt, since the latter wouldn't
be legal. Of course if you'd like to shift and sign it directly yourself I
shall understand perfectly. The only thing is that proof reads it is copyrighted
in my name.

I still have my sets of graduate papers to correct, and some details
to arrange about the summer session for high school teachers. But otherwise,
things should be quieting down. I shall be glad for it.

All love as always,

Norman

I enclose a 20SF note I had left over on my return.
It should have gone to you long ago. Forgive me.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I am back, briefly, at the office after dinner tonight to finish reading the galleys of *January* which were promised for today and which I assured Helen by phone would be in their office by special delivery tomorrow. There is simply no uninterrupted time during a weekday. No wonder I looked forward to the comparative quiet and accomplishments possible on Saturdays and Sundays.

Three letters were in today's mail, but I have left them at home and so cannot date them precisely. You are right; it is almost never possible for someone in my position ever really to understand another country. It is not simply going to too expensive hotels and restaurants; they are part of a country too, but no part is the whole nor do parts often add to a whole. One has to feel a country with the blood one was born with; some times I can understand individuals, but I daresay I don't even known my own country as a whole. I can understand a little about a Kenneth, but I know I don't know Carnaby Street. I wish I did.

I enclose the fall announcements from the issue of Publishers Weekly which arrived today. Sorry to have torn the edge. Oddly, I never thought of *January* in terms of a crippled smith but rather in terms of one whom the wars made helpless. But I am glad to see it so well featured, and don't you agree that Helen's titles are really the highspots of what Harcourt has to offer. I see nothing assigned to Hamam Hayden who was supposed to have a list similar to Helen's. But what a surprise to find a nice pious girl like Helen going Grove Press with an unexpergated Casanoa! Is this the new edition edited from the manuscript?

I enclose also a clipping about a new book by Dr Redlich who was Sach's analysand, helped by the money you gave. I imagine this must be old hat to you, and so will not order for you unless you wish. Or you can glance at a copy when you come over and see if you want it. I don't recognize the British lesbian book you mentioned, not having my eyed keyed to the TLS this recently. If it tells all it will have to flex its muscles to beat out the recent American books on the subject, and the fictions on male homosexuality make Lawrence seem like a prude.

Poor Marianne. It was hard even to follow the thought of her letter to you. It is awful to see her slipping, but so long as she is happy it doesn't matter. The death of her friend will have been a blow.

And so now to the post office, after I make out a check to another of Horace's nurses.

time. # How marvelous that Sachie and Georgia like the new daughter-in-law. It will make such a difference.

All love,
Zosim

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

8 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I did not manage a letter to you yesterday; you must forgive me. But it was one of those absolutely maddening days -- today was much like it -- when I could never find ten consecutive minutes unbroken by questions, or visits, or requests for favors. As for example, to get a man a summer rental with three bedrooms for August (I did!). Or to make out booklists for the summer session, which the bursary student ought to have done months ago while he was still working.

At any rate by this evening, at least the summer school arrangements have been made, the daily bills for Horace's nurses have been paid (actually these two did work just a single day apiece), and I shall be able to happily home tonight to work on graduate school papers.

Last late afternoon we had to go to a reception in honor of a retiring history professor --who taught me when I first went to graduate school -- in Colonial American history. How jealous I was of him for being able to retire!

Your letters of the 4th, 5th, and 6th were in today's mail. There was nothing yesterday, but I deserved nothing. What a sadness for Elsie to have made all the arrangements for Dr Sarasin, and what a sadness for you to have her thrift so triumphant. Have you ever thought of suggesting that Tigerli might like Sarasin's share? That might give you yours. Do by the way thank Elsie for her card from Mammon to Susan and myself, which came yesterday. It was kind of her to write.

I was naturally much relieved to learn the true explanation of the trust. Obviously this presents no problem at all. Not half as much as the cats do for him. But what a revenge to buy a St Bernard to negative a pussy. I got to the Co-op to tell them to ship the Nin Diary by surface, but found the new printing was already in and it had gone otherwise. So sorry but at least it will help console you evenings when you cannot lie in a warm tub. I think of you with the little kettle, but did you manage to make it work? I couldn't, if you remember, and think the fault must have been my own non-technical clumsiness.

Coigny's situation is maddening, but my hunch is that perhaps it is better to do nothing about it at the moment. Once the word got to her superiors, they would think she disloyally put you up to it. And her name would be mud. They would have to protect themselves, and the best way is by belittling her.

So sorry too about the second Mrs Williams. He has had rather a rough time of it. A marriage like this always comes a little between a father and her daughter (it would have for Catha, had R.A. married again), and even harder to try to regain the earlier relationship.

No reason at all not to let Poli quote you. He is a pleasant person. I knew him once when he stayed for a bit on research at Yale. I knew too about his wife's work on R.A., but put her off. However if Moore is to see the things perhaps she is too. Apparently Catha is encouraging her and Moore at the same

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

9 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

More graduate school papers corrected today (tho not enough
of them) and so it was the greatest pleasure to have yours of the 6th and
7th arrive so that I could have something to read with pleasure. I was
delighted that you got the Sarasin session down so vividly, since it gave
me the sense of sharing. I do like him, and what a pity it is that, unlike
yourself, I have no capacity to train. I cannot imagine a better one to
work under than him. Interesting how the ear-boxing damaged him; I suppose,
as with words, it is the tone that counts. And sometimes the tone is defined
not at the moment but by the boxer's attitude afterwards. And surely, as
you say, it doesn't always work that way in consequence, so that one cannot
make an arbitrary rule one way or the other. Only think of the people whose
sexual life would have been pallid had they not been birched in a British
school. (Not mine, for not even my vicarious tastes have been in that
direction; but I was interested to hear from the parents of boy's in British
grammar schools that it still goes strong. They illustrated one master's
manner: he takes two steps forward before the laying on of birch.).

Needham was in today to return the $500 I had given him as a
reserve fund. He was as proud as a peacock in handing it back. Of the
original sum ($2,500) he had $28.00 unused. You will have to hear all
about it when you come over. Perhaps we can see some of his 200 pictures.
Just your cup of buttered tea!

Don't worry about the dish washing. I shall get back into
stride. A maid of any kind won't do. The house has to be Susan's; I can
understand.

It will be an interesting change for Wendy to have Ankara, and
I daresay Mary will be glad to jave the company.

Generally the day has not been too interesting. A letter came
from Marya enclosing an unopened bill from their physician. She has been
having a heavy attack of bronchitis. She keeps wishing I could go down oftener
to chat with Horace. "When one has been ill for a long time people forget."
As if I could! She sent along Rose's letter of permission for the Glikin
girl, with an "we are inclined to" release from Horace, though on the envelope
of the doctor's bill she suggests that the girl ought to wait to read Horace's
critical approach before she begins (or rather continues) her biographical one.
"Horace," she writes is getting better. He borrowed a Royal Portable typewriter
and now sits up and looks as happy as can be and demands his dictionary etc. --
I keep my fingers crossed--God has granted us a miracle. For the first time in
our lives (thanks to you and Bryher) Horace sees the chance to do the work he
wanted to do and the first leisure--only illness put a curse on the good fortune.
It's like being starved all one's life and at last having a feast -- and being unable
to eat....I'm enclosing one bill that I forgot to put in the batch I gave you. I
always feel shy about these things and yet Bryher's goodness and yours kept
Horace alive. That autobiography will be written and it will be a masterpiece.
We've both set our hearts on it."

All my love,
Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

10 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

It has been raining most of the day, been hot, and I have
dripped with sweat as I sat for two hours this morning and another two
hours this afternoon, first at the final meeting of the college faculty
and then for the similar occasion with the graduate school faculty.
I managed to go to the bank this morning to deposit the five one hundred
dollar bills in a safer spot than my desk drawer, but the rain prevented
my going to Stonehill's to pick up the books he has had for a year and
a half while he was supposed to re-evaluate them for insurance. He
never has, and I at least want to put them in the bank for the summer.
In the Fall I will get some one else to do the job. The delay was
absurd, but since the dealer is a friend I always until now gave in to
his plea for just another month.

A letter from the Ambassador who has read Romaine's book.
But it is obviously not what he thought it would be. He doesn't like
the section on the mother, and finds she really doesn't go in to her
relationships with interesting people in the additions. It was Knopf
who persuaded her to go on after the first part and who then didn't
like what she did. He wonders if Romaine could be persuaded to do the
book properly with a ghost writer, but I at least won't suggest it and
doubt if she would. She has a remarkable memory but it begins to concen-
trate on particular details rather than the whole. But I have not had
time to ponder all Bruce's letter said, and this will have to wait for
a week or so.

Tomorrow I take Justus to New York to buy him some clothes.
In the afternoon Calvin Tenney comes with his wife and a younger son to
attend his older son's graduation from Yale on Monday. He was the Gardner
boy who was a classmate of mine at Yale and then shared the house in Chester
Square Mews with me in London during the war. I think you met him perhaps
once.

No letter from you today and none likely tomorrow unless as
a delayed missive from today. I will write if I can after my return.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

11 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I am just briefly in the office at the end of the afternoon, having returned with Justus on the 2 p.m. train (in at about 4) and come down for the chance of paying a few of Horace's bills before Susan phones to tell me that our guests from Washington have arrived.

Justus seemed pleased with his excursion, took a drawing pad and paper along for the train (he now devotes himself to Batman and Robin), and in between sketches had a good time looking out the window and asking where we were and how many minutes to New York. We did a couple of errands, then got him a suit of clothes, and had a gala luncheon at the Oak Room in the Plaza where he was careful to compliment the chef, much to the delight of the waiter. We had a little excitement when we settled down in the train in New York for our ride back. A policeman came in carrying a crying ten-year old boy who was wretched with pain, and accompanied by a couple. They explained to the policeman's astonishment just as the train was about to leave, and they to get off, that they knew nothing about him except that he had been crying on the station bench and said he had to get to Wallingford. The conductor was wild when he found out his responsibility and they determined to take the boy off at 125th St and put him in a hospital. But the boy cried so, and was so doubled up, and said he had to get home to his mamma, so that they finally decided to risk it to Boston. Everyone hovered and was alarmed, for I should imagine he had had a preliminary attack of appendicitis, and as far as anyone knew it might be on the point of bursting. However after a half hour his pains subsided and he sat up; after an hour he bought a chocolate bar and coca cola. After an hour and a quarter he and Justus were sitting together discussing Batman. I made the boy promise to tell his mother what had happened, but I wonder if she will do anything?

Your letter of the 8th must have come in this morning for it was waiting for me in the box. I cheered at the news that boiler had been installed, that it would be tested, and that perhaps by the end of this coming week you and Elsie would be re-christened as Baptists. I am only sorry that I cannot be there solemnly to turn on the water as you lie in the tub, and say "Let this woman be clean again, in Thy sight, O Lord!"

I had not realised that the pound was in so precarious a situation, for my unconscious still thinks of it as legitimately $4.86 or whatever it was when I was a boy. Beney seems very much on the alert, and Philip not to have lost his old touch.

Now I really must make out the checks to thr nurses.

12 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

The day has been crisp like early September. A good day for working, so I have. And now only two papers on Edward Taylor's Divine Meditations remain to be done, but whether our weekend guests will come back late enough after dinner for me to accomplish them this evening I don't know. I almost hope not; I get weary of student writing easily these days. Still my desk is in an improved state because of the absence of the papers. I like the looks of it.

I meant to ask you whether you want a book called THE GEATS OF BEOWULF: A STUDY ON THE GEOGRAPHICAL MYTHOLOGY OF THE MIDDLE Ages. The description is: "An important step towards the solution of a long and vexing problem concerning the identity of Beowulf's people. Mrs Leake equates the Geats with the Getae, a new line of thought that may lead to re-evaluation in Old English Studies. It certainly sounds learned. Who are the Getae?

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

14 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I did not try to write yesterday, its being Garduation Day.
By the time I got our guests to the university and found them a parking
spare it was past due my reporting at the college in my long blue robes
and hood, and once the ceremonies were over on the main campus I had to
put in a quick appearance at the college to meet a few parents before
returning to the graduate school for the handing on of diplomas for the
doctorate. The early afternoon was shot by a splatter of callers, and
then we had to go to (a) a cokctail party of farewell to anvisiting
Englishman, D.R.G.James, here for the year as visiting professor, and
then (b) to a party given by the Robleys (she was Mrs Wohlenberg. There
was a third one we ought to have gone to, but skipped that and went
home exhausted.

I was all the sorrier not to have written, for the morning
mail (read in mid-afternoon) brought letters of the 9th, 10th(two) and
11th from you. How nice that Elsie could meet Zandbergen and discuss
her tulips. Now, with a personal relationship, she will perhaps love
the bulbs more tenderly. Was it the Wards to whose farm Susan and I
and you were taken by Doris? # Cohn I remember slightly, though as you
know no one here ever has time to stick his nose beyond his own doorway.
#Many thanks for sending the Whitall, and it can be reading for you on
the rocks at the shore when you come. I shall have quite a stack, so be
prepared to stay. I am by the way mailing you a real little bit of corn,
not to plant but to pass on to Elsie or Coigny or other locals who may
be interested in a glimpse into the Chaplin household near you. This is
by Michael, the boy who made such a ruckus in London, and who has eyes
strikingly like his grandfather and my friend who was his uncle. No
real dirt and rather boring, but full of a kind of language that may
amuse you, and with a few insights into the sort of schools in Switzerland
to which auslander children go. The S.O.E. report I can read when I am
at Kenwin, but it should be fascinating. It was a very effective branch
of the British service. # Glad you agree on the Glikin case. I do think
it is important to have some diggers in the world, and she seemed to be
scrupulous in her detail. # Horace, by the way, is reported by his nurse
(in a note with the bill I paid yesterday) tbabe sitting up and using
the typewriter. It really does seem to be like a miracle. #I suggest
using the francs for a book or a tidbit for Tigerli. It is because you
have been such a good girl, and is yours to spend just the way you want
to. Too bad there is not a new Henty out for you to gobble. # The British
situation for the pound looks basically perilous, although as you will
have seen by today's paper that the European nations, plus France, and
the U.S. are guaranteeing its bolster indefinitely., and tho the Commission
reports unfavorably on the various British strike settlements and general
fiscal policy. But how paradoxical that Wilson should be moving so far
to the left while depending on the foreign capitalistic system to make
this possible. This may be shrewd tactics, worthy of a revolutionary;
but it doesn't really make very much sense economically if the new socialist
world can deet only by dependence on the system it dislikes. But of course
Russia is in somewhat the same position. I doubt you are wrong, and I most

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS
YALE UNIVERSITY
NEW HAVEN·CONN

14 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

There wasn't much of the day
after I wrote you this morning, and I am
certainly pleased to have begun the day
that way. From then on I have been helpless,
and am now at the office after dinner so
that I can pick up a few things to take with
me tomorrow when I leave for Long Island
and a three-day conference of the Coe Founda-
tion, the group whose founder bequeathed most
of the funds by which American Studies at Yale
is supported. I hardly look forward to it,
because I don't know what it's all about, only
that I am supposed to talk Thursday morning
of a subject not yet assigned.

But almost certainly I can't
write you until Saturday. Forgive me. There
was no letter from you today, only a string
of visitors. Christof de Nagy, the Hungarian
who wrote on Pound and visited Hilda and
pleased her has just finished the second volume
of his Pound work and asked if he might dedicate
it "For Norman Holmes Pearson in Memory of H.D."
Very pleasant of him. I only wish Hilda were
alive so that it could have been hers without
the need of memory.

They installed the air conditioner in my office while I was away. The men were delighted not to have me here, of they found all sorts of difficulties in running the connections. I would only have been in the way. I shall try to write a note from washington tomorrow night, but as of Tuesday I shall be here on full schedule.

All best, Zeman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

18 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I started to write the enclosed, but as you will see I never finished it and indeed never really had a chance to do so. I came back up last afternoon, by being taken to La Guardia and then taking the bus from there to the Taft and a taxi home, Susan being in the midst of moving to the shore. I went with her after dinner, with a car load of the heavier orchids which I preferred carrying than to have her try, and she has been at it again today while I work in the office. I take an early bus to Washington tomorrow by way of La Guardia and the shuttle plane, and she will be well settled in when I return Monday night.

When I was in New York Wednesday morning I phoned Helen to remind her to send the contract to me, and I will try to see her after July 7th when she returns from a holiday at Riverside (Riverdale?). She says she will not be in town until then. I think she is tired and she certainly is busier than ever. Indeed her own list must by now be the backbone of the Harcourt trade sales. She must be making much more money than she ever did with Kurt.

The meeting was pleasant in terms of the congeniality of the group assembled, and these ran the gamut from serious scholars to missionary proclaimers of the American spirit. I can't say I learned anything except to have the difference between the two groups reinforced in my consciousness. But the 408 acres were wonderfully landscaped, the rhododendrons only just past their prime, and the laurel just coming into full bloom. The food was good and we had a delightful al fresco dinner in a sunken garden, and one might almost have thought one was living in the pre-depression world when Coe kept 200 men to take care of the grounds alone.

Your letters of the 12th, 13th and 14th (two) were waiting for me, and altho there was none today I really needed none. Indeed I could have spent what has been left of the day entirely in writing you. But alas there was much to be done in picking up the office, and in planning Mrs Sherman's work for tomorrow. I did leave some drafts of letters for her to get at, but in fact when I am away she reports so many interruptions that she never does seem to get anything, planned or unplanned, done. # So glad you liked the American Dictionary. It is good for just such definitions. The 25th still sounds fine to me, but if later is better for you that is all right. Yale opens on the 15th and I will be tied down a bit then. # I wonder if they actually did send the Nin book which I ordered. I will re-check on Tuesday. I told Smith specifically. #Have not myself yet read the Sedish spy articles in the New Yorker, but have saved them for summer. Susan read and thought them most interesting. # how could Coutts send money to the wrong Macpherson! It is idiotic and the sort of thing that would have cost a man's head in the old days. # Glad you saw your British dames even if not exciting. I still hope for a modern from you on the British colony in Switzerland. You have a duty to record the group for posterity. Otherwise it is quite lost and as if it had never been. #Oh yes, your copy of Poetry Review came. My thanks and for the others you are sending. # You'll have to wear a key around your neck whilst sunbathing, especially now you are used to a torque. #r wear the torque and suspend a key from it. # Visiting the boys does sound awful. But why not from eneva to Rome, and have them meet you. The train sounds wricached.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

21 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

At least I am back, but the morning was so filled with people coming in with requests that I could not finish my mail until noon, when I had a luncheon appointment only to be twenty minutes late because of a last minute visitor in distress.

Yesterday morning in Washington was filled with various talks at the

Sm

22 June

And that is exactly as far as I got yesterday. It is absolutely unbelievable, the number of people who flow in and out of the office with no one else to handle their problem except myself. Or, as yesterday when I had to break off, it is some visitor ready to settle down for a good chat. That one was the head of the International History Project at Unesco, who lives in Paris but took his doctorate with us. This noon it was a young Britisher from Winnepeg, for whom I had helped get a rather cock-and-bull grant from a Canadian Foundation. Tomorrow it will be either de Nagy, from Basel, or a Korean from Seoul --depending on who gets in first. A swede is also waiting in line for an invitation.

Well, day-before-yesterday-morning in Washington was filled with various talks at the Smithsonian, while we discussed a national center of learning the Institution wants to establish, work in systematics in biology, the installation of an exhibition of ceramics, and the plans for remodeling the Court of Appeals (a Civil ar building) into a museum of decorative arts. I got the four-thirty shuttle plane back to New York, and learned by the enclosed card why you will want to travel TWA from now on. This is certainly being Eceumenical when the Holy See includes TWA! I liked the footnote, too, by which the same privilege was at a later date extended graciously to other airlines. By the time I had a hot dog for supper at Howard Johnson's and got back to the shore it was time for whiskey and to bed.

Your letters of the 16th, 17th and 18th were waiting for me at the office and that of the 19th came yesterday. Today there was none. I shall be eager to know what really did happen at Coutts. It does look as though they read "funds" as "all funds." But perhaps you can borrow against future income and pay your ladies and still have the extra money for B eney to handle more freely for investments. But what a nuisance. Too bad you do not have a carbon of your letter of instructions. #i really am sorry about Tremelethen. Poor Dean is having much more of a burden than I thought she would. # I shall be interested to read The Microcosm, and have asked Blackwell to send me a copy so that we can share and I can perhaps pick up some comparative literature for you on this side. Judging only from the title it sounds as scientific as a book I have been offered on Polychaeta Myzostomidae and Sedentaria. The latter sounds like Polish ponno. #Your visitors sound as overwhelming this year as others, but I imagine rpovide something in the way of distraction from the horror of furnace-repairs. # Hope the Escale won't be permanently out, after the return of the owner. They did have good food.

Poor Horace will be heartbroken if Pilgrimage isn't reprinted. Actually I think Rose is right. The important thing is to get the volumes back into print; the little extra for royalties for Moonlight don't really matter by comparison. Is Paterson, D.R.'s nephew? And what a do about the V & A show and the painting of Alan Odle? Still, it seems to have put new zip into Rose's life.

Susan spent yesterday going over her aunt's furniture and picking out the Silliman heirloom furniture which was left to her and her sisters. Though where any one can put anything else remains a mystery. Especially since the main summer occupation for the sisters will be that of clearing the mother's furnishings at the big house at the shore. I am glad I shall be busy days, at the office.

Now I must run up to Goodrich Street, pick up the laundry which now must be toted into town, plus a few pictures and get back to the shore in time to go out to dinner with the Hoblitzelle's next-door (she is a sister). I took the new Buddha to the shore for the mantelpiece, and it looks splendid against the stone. Almost as though in a stone shrine.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

23 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

Your letters of the 21st arrived in the late afternoon mail. I am really shocked by M. Beney's death, although as you say it is the way both of us would like to finish our own stories. But I shall miss him very much indeed. My visits with him were always a high point of my coming to Kenwin. I liked the way his eyes twinkled in triumph when he managed a coup; it was both having won a game and bestowing an act of friendship. He really did care in a highly personal way, and nothing seemed to please him more than what he was able to do in restoring your funds. He was like a livelier Harold Doolittle.

I am sure that Egli will manage competently, and no doubt Jacques too will in time. But Egli at least will not have had that long period of caring which made Beney feel like an uncle or brother or guardian of your fortunes. And your visits to the bank will lose that wonderful sense of intimacy and confidence that Beney was always able to show. There will be no one to listen to one's own opinion, alas. I do mourn for you also. Tomorrow I will write to Mme Beney and express my condolences.

I suppose there will have to be a number of changes made, in the executorship of your will, in the trusteeship of the accounts and establishments. I daresay you will want to see M. Coigny at least about the will.

This has been a hot muggy day, but I managed to work in the Korean for lunch, get a further number of letters down and details worked out, and after lunch I went to the house and waited for the rug men to come to take away four small ones of the orientals at Goodrich Street to be cleaned during the summer. They were late, so I managed to put away the furniture on the terrace, lest it be stolen by local wanderers; and even to get down a few more pictures to take to the shore for the walls of your room and the guest room. A set of bocce balls I had ordered from Abercrombie had been delivered at the house next door, which I picked up from the neighbors, and paid a brief visit to the doctor who is dying of cancer. Or so they say. Then I took two heavy winter coats to the cleaners to put away, and then back to the office for what remained of the afternoon.

I watch de Gaulle's trip to the Soviet with great interest. Obviously he is playing the traditional game of balance of power, but I am not sure how whole heartedly the Russians will actually play along with him. I think they are suspicious of his attempts to the same in the East with Red China. There will be more talk on their part than action. But we shall see!

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

It is a little difficult at the end of a day and a week, to
know just what one has managed to accomplish. But I have kept at it today,
with a few more letters of recommendation written, and a few more reports
out of the way. Scribners have written about Hilda's book; they still want
to do it their way. They want an introduction, notes and the like from me--
a really formidable task when one thinks how carefully it would have to be
done. One could do nothing else for from four to six months. Miss Glikin
has written that she comes on July 11th, if that is convenient, so I got
that arranged with the Library and have written her to come. I had DeNagy for
lunch this noon, and then went to the Co-op where I checked on the Anais Nin
book. It is said to have been sent, but by surface. It should be arriving
soon. Also a pleasant note from Mervyn Dobson, who goes with his sister for
the weekend. I shall try to write Ambassador Bruce tomorrow
at the bottom. Folio, one page, 18 lines.
A fine poem in which Spender's economy of language in the expression of an intense

£95
A fine poem in which Spender's economy of language in the expression of an intense experience is seen at its best. It describes his impression that the gods of ancient Greece have left part of themselves in the land, as he continually sees in the rocks the shape of great arms reaching from the earth to the sky, and it conveys his feeling that the grandeur of the gods imparts itself to the wide, sun-filled plain. It is interesting to compare this poem with others which reveal Spender's conception of man's inseparable link with the

A fine poem in which Spender's economy of language in the expression of an intense experience is seen at its best. It describes his impression that the gods of ancient Greece have left part of themselves in the land, as he continually sees in the rocks the shape of great arms reaching from the earth to the sky, and it conveys his feeling that the grandeur of the gods imparts itself to the wide, sun-filled plain. It is interesting to compare this poem with others which reveal Spender's conception of man's inseparable link with the other studio and select what more she dies. So I said after the Fall after she returns to the Fall, altho wanting him to write, I trust you approve. I could sell fair copies of my poems at such preposterous prices as in the attached. Only of course that is the dealer's price, not his. I understand Spender is out of Encounter and wants to spend as much time as possible on this side: giving readings, teaching, and leaning handsomely against mantelpieces at parties. I forgot to mention the sale of incunabula by The London Library. In one sense it is a pity; in another sense I suppose such books are not very meaningful in the intentions of the Library. And their possession may seem to alter the character into the image of one of the Clubs that Labor hates. No need for funds; this is mine. I could sell fair copies of my poems at such preposterous prices as in the attached. Only of course that is the dealer's price, not his. I understand Spender is out of Encounter and wants to spend as much time as possible on this side: giving readings, teaching, and leaning handsomely against mantelpieces at parties. I forgot to mention the sale of incunabula by The London Library. In one sense it is a pity; in another sense I suppose such books are not very meaningful in the intentions of the Library. And their possession may seem to alter the character into the image of one of the Clubs that Labor hates. Your letter of the 22nd was in today's mail. Indeed you will miss Beney. You will miss his business acumen, but you will especially miss those frank talks about the world situation in which he was so good. He talked well and he listened well. The bank will not be the same. I am particularly glad that there is a chance of your going to the boys. I am eager to hear your description of the palazzo. Get Elise to take her camera and document it for us. It was sad to hear about Martita; as you say this is much more severe than the account sent you by Dora Darcy, which arrived in one of the yellowbacks. Now in Connecticut when this happens they arrest you for arson. It is altogether too common, especially amongst the drinkers. One congratulates Petrie on her detective work. She should have been in the game. Three yellowbacks have come in since I last mentioned. Marianne's card was remarkably coherent, but am not sure what she meant by the Bishop's eye. Poor Joceyln wrote a cheerful enough letter, even toothless. How I envy him the ability to pass the years without doing anything. But you are not the one to teach me. I shall be curious to know what Kenneth's Pollack fetches at Park Bernet. Presumably, if he sent it at end of May it will come up in the autumn. I take it he wants to go to Thailand and into Cambodia.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

24 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

It is a little difficult at the end of a day and a week, to know just what one has managed to accomplish. But I have kept at it today, with a few more letters of recommendation written, and a few more reports out of the way. Scribners have written about Hilda's book; they still want to do it their way. They want an introduction, notes and the like from me-- a really formidable task when one thinks how carefully it would have to be done. One could do nothing else for from four to six months. Miss Glikin has written that she comes on July 11th, if that is convenient, so I got that arranged with the Library and have written her to come. I had DeNagy for lunch this noon, and then went to the Co-op where I checked on the Anais Nin book. It is said to have been sent, but by surface. It should be arriving soon. Also a pleasant note from Mervyn Dobson, who goes with his sister for the summer to Scandinavia. I shall try to write Ambassador Bruce tomorrow about Romaine. (Incidentally the Director of the National Collection of Art weapt that they had no funds so he could not go to her studio and select what its to come and give her the chance to meet him before she dies. So I said I would give him a third-class round-trip ticket in the Fall after she returns to Nice. Obviously she couldn't give him the ticket, altho wanting him to come, since this would belittle the art he went for. I trust you approve. No need for funds; this is mine. If only I were a writer like Spender. Then I could sell fair copies of my poems at such preposterous prices as in the attached. Only of course that is the dealer's price, not his. I understand Spender is out of Encounter and wants to spend as much time as possible on this side: giving readings, teaching, and leaning handsomely against mantelpieces at parties. I forgot to mention the sale of incunabula by The London Library. In one sense it is a pity; in another sense I suppose such books are not very meaningful in the intentions of the Library. And their possession may seem to alter the character into the image of one of the Clubs that Labor hates.

gentlemen's leaves;
signature and
£8.10
GENTLEMAN
s. in 4, 8vo
happens, back
£12.10
W.
EMAN

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

Much interested in Beaumont- adsworth's comment on the Mr Staley of Tulsa who has finished his book on D.R. But it seems to be some time yet before it will be published. Ady's letter seemed really like her old self. Perhaps we can manage a quick trip down to see her when you come. But it may be difficult if we also make the important trip to Montreal and to Maine, both of which I presently have on the agenda. I was delighted that Miss Boys liked Avalon. She should be a good judge, too. And how extraordinary that the Goughs' jeep has turned up at long last. One presumes however that they have collected insurance on it long since. Good too that his operation was successful. He would have been a fool to postpone it, especially for the sake of consultation in Lugano.

We had supper last night with Lizzie who is spending until August 1st at the house next door at the shore. Then Susan takes it until mid-September for herself and the two children. On July 1st she moves across the street into her new apartment, without Jim I am glad to say. But he has hung on until the last possible moment and ostensibly made no plans for after the 1st. I even wanted to store his books in her basement. She said no.

Did I tell you I now have an air conditioner in my office. The temperature has been in the 90's, and it has been a blessing. One minds the hum but the compensations are greater.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

25 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

A rather miscellaneous day, I must say, but the university was pleasantly deserted and only a father and young son were eating lunch at Mory's. The grasshoppers must have been dancing elsewhere, while ant-like I wrote more letters, paid the usual bills for Horace, and most of all worked at cataloguing the newest batch of dusty diamonds after which with the help of a step-ladder I put them on the highest shelves. Actually as I did so, I made a survey of them all so as to be sure there were no hidden treasures. I found none -- no Swiss Families in caves, no Ainsworths. I took out the Kiplings as not being quite to the mark (tho some do fall within the broadest definition), and the two Lang fairy books, and two cheap volumes of Cooper, all of which Maggs had bought for that first not clearly defined group. I shall probably turn them over to Justus, in order to make room. But the Bryher Collection of Dusty Diamonds grows, and one day it will be the best. The Henty's breed slowly, but many more of the Fenns and Kingstons and even Ballantynes have been added since my trip to England. I think the flow may have stopped for the moment, though I did add some thirteen Breretons (a man you read) and watched his progress on the title page from Capt to Lt. Colonel. I had some new photprints made of the B.M. entries, and checked against them, even to Achilles Daunt since his name at least is attractive. Did you notice in the TLS for 23 June that Dent is bringing out a new edition of Ballantyne's THE DOG CRUSOE? It is a story of crossing the prairies. I am glad there is still a market for diamonds. They die slowly.

I wrote Bruce that I saw little hope of Romaine's ability at her age, or willingness, to be frank about her later relationships, and that my idea now was chiefly to get the book out. Perhaps in the end one will have to simply have it privately printed and distributed to the various libraries. But what a chore, and what an expense!

There seemed to be good news of Horace, who has been taking a few steps and it is hoped that he can go home as of about July 1st. One of the nurses sent her final bill, and he apparently only has a morning nurse now (which is sensible). Marya will have to have similar help of a sort when he does get home. Pat should be back shortly, and can help weekends perhaps. I must say I never expected to see him recover. He has a will of iron. Now I hope there will be great poems to celebrate his third birth.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

26 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

In briefly to the office this morning, chiefly to pick up the grandchildren this morning and take them to the shore while their mother continues moving things across the street to her new apartment. I made progress yesterday, and luckily uncovered an unopened message from the Provost, sent perhaps a fortnight ago, with the final budget approval of salaries of the staff for next year, plus method of payment, each item to be approved by me. What computers can do! My secretary's salary is $5,200 a year which was to be given her in monthly payments throughout the year of $1,400 per month. I wish they'd pay mine on the same divisional basis. The two professors hired for six weeks this summer were down as having their summer salary paid in twelve monthly installments. Then in addition to my budget computations I received also those for the *Yale Review*, the approving man for this already having left for Europe. It is really my fault for having delayed, and altho I can still get in under the July 1st deadline for making changes, I hope I won't have bolloxed the *Review* figures. But with all the interruptions, and the fact that Lewis left for the Cape three weeks ago without bothering to clear up his graduate school duties as director of that for us, I wonder that I get anything done at all.

Last night we had the ßrof Pope (who reads *Beowulf* on your record) and his wife to the shore for supper and bridge. His book on the rhythms of the poem, about which you asked, has had still another setback in its reprinting. The Press had on the paperback jacket, without consulting him, an illustration of the manuscript of *Beowulf*, only they took it from an inaccurate copy made in the 19th century by the B.M. Why the Yale Press didn't turn to the original no one knows -- an aid went to the library and simply picked up the first thing available --at least no one knows why no check was made--. Pope howled, and now they must rip off all present paperback covers, having recalled the copies which had been sent out, and a proper substitution made. Pope is right; he would have been thought responsible, and therefore a fool, by his peers in Old English.

The weather has suddenly turned half-cold, with mist and fog and occasional showers. Not much of a weekend for the trippers.

No letter from you yesterday, but that is customary now on Saturdays.

All love,
Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

29 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

I have been thinking of you as off tomorrow for Kenneth
and the other Boy. I'm glad you're going. Having the furnace repaired
must have been almost a major trauma; certainly the death of Beney was
one. I am glad you finally decided to go to the funeral. I am sure
they would not really have understood your not going. Or at any rate
they will have been mightily pleased that you did. Strange how at
funerals the eyes of the reception line become cameras for the album
of memory

I did not write Monday or yesterday, knowing that the
letters would not reach you before the 30th and at your advice not
trying to write you at the palazzo. On Monday the summer session
for high school teachers began. They had to be welcomed and then
given a reception in the afternoon. The two instructors for it had
to be indoctrinated. There was little time for writing. Yesterday
was spent following up the first day, keeping at letters of recommenda-
tion and still unanswered mail (fortunately the intake decreases
daily as others go on their holidays), and doctoring up my expense
account for the year. I shall be delighted at even that small return
of the expense of being a chairman. I still have not been able to
put in my bill for expenses for Susan's aunt's death (we wait for the
bill for altar flowers), and I have not had time to reckon up the
several thousands I hope to be repaid for in part by Horace's medical
insurance. One of the now discontinued nurses received nearly three
thousand, for example; and there were three of them until the two
dropped out early this week. Lizzie's insurance for her wrecked car
is still to be paidme. So when these are all in order I shall have to
declare a capital dividend.

A nice letter came from Sylva Norman today, thanking for her
visit to New Haven. She can write charmingly. I had not known until
recently that John Cournos had written a novel about the Hilda-Aldington-
Grey affair, and have just located it. Miranda Masters. So that now the
story is a four-told one: her account, R.A?'s, Aldington's and Cournos's
Miranda Masters. Worthy of a learned article, but not by me. Dusty
Diamonds are still being mined, and I have ordered two more Henty notes,
both fortunately literary in nature. An English firm offered me a bright
copy of With the Allies to Pekin but you were there with him in 1904 so
we already have it.

John Schaffner has sent me a copy of The Choate Literary
Magazine with quite a good little sketch of a tale by Valentine in it.
I am to forward this to you. I think you will like it. Rather different
from what I had expected. But, of the complications which I expected.
Inadvertently I mentioned when I was there that you planned to come over
at the end of the summer. No point in denying it or concealing it for they
would be furious. But now in a PS he writes" By the way, though this may
be early, P and I want to put in a bid for Bryher to have her birthday at

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

Cowfield with you and Susan along to celebrate. Can you plan on this,
please?" Of course it is up to you, but my hunch is that you'd prefer
otherwise. I shall write as follows, though of course this can all be changed
if you wish. That: I have to be for a couple of days at the end of August
at a Hawthorne-Melville conference in Pittsfield, where I have promised
to give a paper. That you and Susan are coming along, and we are to
proceed from there for your life-long-wished-for visit to Maine which can
only be managed if we do not come back to New Haven and Long Island in
between, since as serving both as Chairman and Director of Graduate Studies
I must be back in New Haven by the 7th or 8th of September, and that we
must make a quick trip to Montreal also before you settle in to New York
for your days with Prutting as of the 12th. Why not! It is all true,
or should be. And I am honestly anxious for you to see Maine, though not
necessarily all the way to the Hotsons unless you want to.

They are also anxious to have Nicholas visit Catha, "as a pleasant
and easy way for Perdita to enter into a relationship with her s-called half-sister
At first this sounds odd, but considering Hilda's friendship for Catha, and
yours, it might not be such a bad idea.

But how involved life becomes.

30 June 1966

Dearest Fido,

Last night we had a Swedish scholar and his wife for dinner at the shore. Clearing up the foreigners who have been here all year and expect at least one invitation to our home, progresses as with the desk's duties. It marches.

Your unanswered letters have piled up. (At that moment a 52-year old male teacher from Maine came in from the summer group, wanting to leave and go home to his wife. What he needed was to talk; he is coming back next week, and if I don't miss my guess will stick out the summer. I should have been a theapist.) Yours of the 23rd, 24th (two) and 26th had come before today. Then those for the 25th and 27th arrived together today. On the whole I suspect it's better for Jacques to take over the account than for Egli to do so. Certainly Jacques will give it special attention if only because it is his chance to show what he can do, and he can establish his career on the strength of his success. As you say, better to leave it with him for a trial at least. I also suspect that he will have the same kind of interest in general economic affairs that his father had.

As I wrote you yesterday, it is much better that you actually went to the funeral services. Am glad you did, though I do not envy you. I simply do not enjoy funerals. Equally I am glad you went to see Kenneth. I shall be eager for an account, and suspect you will be enthusiastic about what they have done even though you may not drink the same cup of tea. Glad that Ines does not have to be put to pasture while you are away. How does Hans Volkart manage to get away from his job for periods like this? Apparently he can whenever he wishes to.

My advice would be to let Kraus reprint L&L. They are the world's leading reprinter of this sort, and also act as the chief distributing agent in the States for learned and other periodicals. With the great boom in expanding the number of universities and colleges in the States and abroad (as in England and West Germany, and the corresponding need to build up suitable libraries there has been a great demand from complete files of significant mags. So, in a sense, the Kraus offer is a Legion of Honor. If L&L was worth publishing in the first place (as it certainly was) then it is worth having the results as widely available as possible. Kraus has done American Literature, for example, in the same way and sold it around the world. No reason why Herring shouldn't have the $500.00, though perhaps one might discuss the subsequent royalties. But he has behaved reasonably well, and letting him have this would be an indication of confidence. If he squanders it, well.... It doesn't matter very much one way or the other. But Kraus is completely reputable. To repeat, his offer is a sort of medal.

I have already ordered the book by the Godden twins. Odd, when I read the reviews I thought to myself that this was the sort of book you wanted. But knew you would be reading the same reviews and would howl, as you did, if you wanted it.

The Coutts account does sound strange. And just as well to get it straightened out. If there is still enough there, then it is especially good to

have this extra amount to invest as from Switzerland.

I shall not try to write to Italy, but hope a few will be waiting for you on your return. This is Fourth of July weekend, and I doubt I shall be able to work at the office until Tuesday. Young Susan moves to her new apartment as of tomorrow, and we are taking the children for the weekend so they can have the holiday at the shore. She will come down Saturday morning. Yesterday noon at Mory's I saw Jim who asked if he could lunch with me next week. I can't say I anticipate this but suppose I will have to go through it sometime. But why lunch? One can talk better in the office without eavesdroppers. I propose not therapy, he has been with a psychiatrist for almost a year. I must say he looks tense and morose. I daresay he feels lost at the prospect of not having someone to cook and wash and mend for him, who can be bitched at at the same time.

The letter from Dorothy Richards did seem depressed. This picking up of abode is wearing, and I think she fears Wesleyan a little, as they are carless and so trapped in a small town. He is so self-reliant and cocky that he can amuse himself all day long, and keep busy at night by reading his poems alou.d. But it is not so easy for a woman.

I hadn't known about the Bouvard et Peuchet notebooks. Sometime I'll have to see how he went at it. It sounds almost like Sinclair Lewis. Two copies of Wake arrived today. I had arranged for Hilda's poem to appear in one of them.

Tonight is a huge dinner for 500 in honor of the centenary of the founding of the Winchester Arms Company by Susan's great grandfather. She is invited, so I am. Her two sisters will also go. None of them has any financial interest in the company which went pretty much bankrupt after World War I and the renigging of payments by the British for arms. It was sold in the '20s for a pittance to Olin Matthewson. The invitation is purely a gesture, but one felt obliged to accept.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

1 July 1966

Dearest Fido,

No letter from you today, but yours of the 28th arrived yesterday afternoon after I had posted my daily letter to you. I am glad you've found the Restif. I've always had my eyes open but with no luck. Is this the complete works or a sampler?

I am a little troubled at some of the involvements of your conversation with Coigny, and only wish that the bank had not appointed Jacques to look after your funds. For it will seem to his bosses, if you drop out after three months (as you are likely to do if you follow that plan), that he has failed on his first big chance, made a much of it. Or they will feel that Coigny's firm has stolen the account and be unwilling to carry the ball on minor matters. It is quite distressing, and I only wish that Egli had been given it so that you could have turned from him rather than Jacques. Actually, Coigny will know far more about such matters than I do, but I wonder if three months is long enough as a test. I shouldn't think an investment counsellor could do very much in so short a time, or even learn the feel of an account. I would have thought two quarters at the very least would be a better way to judge against the market. For even Coigny's firm will find it hard on their own part, as Jacques will, to feel the portfolio. In any event there is no harm in having them check, and in your checking them.

What a pity about the Accutron. I had thought them foolproof. I believe the lifespan of a battery is about two years, however, and yours may have reached that stage. The retail price on watches like yours and mine in the States seems to be about $250.00.

Have had a letter of inquiry from the Society of Authors saying they have some royalties accumulated in the name of Hilda and wonder to whom it should be paid. Shall I say to you as her direct heir, or to myself for her account as the owner of the copyrights? I will not write them until I hear from you.

The two little Henty letters arrived, and I think you will like them. I had myself a little Henty spree this morning, since a catalogue from Dawsons, in London, offered a Henty C collection of about 90 titles for £400/-/- I checked against the Bryher Collection, for sport, having no intention of offering to buy it, and found that although we lacked 12 of their firsts, we had 18 in firsts rather than their later editions. And a great many they don't have at all, though I didn't try to check these. So although yours is still far from complete it is not without respectability.

Did I thank you for Encounter, with the article about Edith in it? I thought it excellent, a sympathetic but rounded sketch. I am grateful for it.

Last night, as I told you, was the large banquet celebrating the centenary of Winchester Arms, which Susan's family once partly owned. It was quite a gala affair, with many movie stars (their names mostly unfamiliar to me

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

but not to the crowds waiting aside. One star was a surly but handsome Yale
graduate who had been kicked out as an undergraduate before being allowed to
return. A little drunk, he seemed unimpressed by meeting a member of the
faculty (understandably), but Slim Pickens who drives stage coaches in the
movies was more amiable. There were the usual number os sultry blondes in
addition to the Governor of Connecticut and persons of that ilk. There were
endless speaches, and since Susan and her two sisters and their husbands
were seated at the head table we all had to rise to bow on being introduced
as the descendants (in-fact and in-law) of the founder. But it was nice of
the new owners to include the girls, and everyone was very nice to them.
It went on from six-thirty until nearly midnight, almost as long as a century
itself.

I leave shortly to pick up the grandchildren and take them to the
shore for over the Fourth. Tomorrow morning we will come back in for the
Winchester parade, and then pick up their mother and take her back with us.
For some reason Jim is being lent her car because he wants to take them on
a "visit" some time over the weekend. I should have thought his pride might
have gotten in the way of her car (since it was originally my gift) but the
minds of others are always mysteries to me.

I shall probably not have a chance to write again until Tuesday,
but that shouldn't stop the flow once you are back from Italy. I hope Kenneth
liked his little bull. I remember it as charming. Bocce, by the way, is
the Italian version of lawn bowling. Only in this case the balls are not
on a bias so one can play it on any lawn or alleyway. One sees the Italians
here and in Italy spending their Sunday afternoons at it.

All love,
Lorann

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

2 July 1966

Dearest Fido,

I do manage a Saturday letter after all. Jim's visit with the children is to be today, after which they will come down to the shore with their mother for an unbroken weekend. So, having promised to take them to the Winchester centenary parade, and the grandmother being glad to get out of it, we first did that, then an errand, and after delivering them to Mansfield Street I came back to work.

And work I have, on the ms of a book on Emerson's City of the West -- a metaphor for something or other -- written by a younger member of the faculty who began his dissertation under me, and even studied with me as an undergraduate senior. It is intended for the American Studies series, and is good but a little abstruse.

At any rate it has little to do with the winning of the west by the Winchester Rifle, but then, except for a man on horseback and a stage coach, neither did the parade. There was a fife and drum corps, a drum and bugle corps, and a band. Buy chiefly there were forty immense balloons like the enclosed picture of one of them, which delighted the great throng of children, and amused me to see --shall I say "in the rubber"? One reads about them in the magazines, and sees them in parades broadcast on television. But I never go to Macy's Thanksgiving Parade or the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.

In between spans of reading about Emerson I have been working at the official American Studies files, trying to weed and winnow and respt after a series of secretaries and substitutes. It was like the files of your letters, and I found it difficult to see what sort of rationale went behind putting so much where it was. But this is a good time to do it, and I rather felt like the exector of my own estate. I only wish there could be heirs to it!(By which I mean American Studies Ltd.)

Your letter of the 29th came this morning. As I wrote before, I only wish I might have been there to draw your first bath for you, and bless the water which cradled and cleansed you. Part of what I commented on in yesterday's letters about the funds is, I see, already altered by its being Egli rather than Jacques who is in charge. This will make any change easier, if necessary, but I still think six months a fairer test than three. As for the conservative tactics which Coigny recommends, he should be pleased since you have always felt Egli to be too conservative in comparison to Beney. I am not surprised that Coigny turns out to be conservative; anyone who handles estates as long as they have to report periodically to the courts. # Your transfer to Ann-Marie is a very fine idea indeed. And it will come at an important time for her spirit. This ought to set her up much more comfortably, and I gather the brothers will help too if necessary. M. Coigny applauded the little house.

No Romaine is in Florence, where Ambassador Bruce saw her about a month ago. And the Director of the Washington gallery also told me she was

last week when I saw him in Washington where he had returned that very
day from the Biennale in Venice.

I was much interested in your letter from Quayle. You will
remember that he is the one who is barred from the shops of Brimmell,
Maggs and Lawson. Apparently shenanigans have gone on in some of his
book purchases, although he himself has money and they find it odd he
should act as he does. He wants very much to be in on things, hints
to me of sometime selling me his collection of Ballantynes, and after
the Dusty Diamonds show made me a present of one of Ballantyne's letters
about fishing to his wife. And he was helpful in sending me a checklist
of the Ballantyne titles in his collection and for his bibliography. He
managed to get a good deal from the Ballantyne daughters. I dare not
breathe to the bookboys that I occasionally hear from him. He has
written Wolfe, the Harvard professor of Byzantine history, about Wolfe's
collection and mine. He is hungry for contacts. I thought your letter
excellent. He was quite miffed to hear I had been in England and not
gone to stay with him.

What a disappointment the boys must have felt in not seeing
Nureyev dance. They both had something of a crush on him, and he must
be an exquisite dancer. I myself would have flooded Florence by my
tears. But you will have heard all about it on your visit. And I am
already eager to hear from you.

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

231 HGS

5 July 1966

Dearest Fido,

What a marvelous surprise today, to have not only your second letter of the 29th, but yours of the 1st from the Boys. I had not expected to hear until you were back in Kenwin. The place sounds fabulously interesting, even more so than that first day when Downes told about his visit there to the boys as we we drove to Anticoli. It's lucky I don't have two lives to live or I should be tempted to become a Scot and have my Italian palazzo. You and Elsie will have had a riot of exploration in the tombs and grottos. And of course I knew beforehand that what they set their hand to in the way of redecoration would be elegantly compelling. I do hope Elsie took her camera along.

But what a trip to get there, as though the gods were against it! I can't imagine anything worse, even our trip to Chesterfield. Though I must say, once there at the north of Hudson Bay I could provide no palazza but only a poor tent, a cot, and hardly a modern bathroom.

Your enclosure of Chester Page's letter was a delight. Some time, never having seen Marianne's Brooklyn apartment I must try to see this. And your chubby sailor boy is turning into quite a good writer of letters. I hope eventually he will do a portrait of her; he has the talent to do it. As for Collins, of course I am covered with shame at not having written him. But if you knew the life I had been leading for the past months you would not wonder. I try desperately to do my office chores first; then I will tackles the tangents.

Am delighted of course that Coigny was delighted. She may eventually get something from the British but it will be the Queen's pittance even so. And she most certainly has been a good friend. Glad too that the codicil is in order. Will it be necessary to make any changes vis-a-vis W and Beney? Perhaps you might inquire when you see Egli. Speaking of W is appropriate enough, for having gone to the bank this morning to withdraw from the savings account to balance overdrafts on my checking account (thanks to the Horatian bills), my Swiss check not having arrived, it was in the afternoon mail so I shall be well in the clear, especially since the charges for nurses has been diminished. It was, as I say, in the afternoon mail and it was also somewhat larger than usual. Have you been naughty and transferred something to the account, or it this an indirect result of my talk with Beney? Naturally I am pleased, and naturally it is most conveniently at hand.

Young Susan and the two children spent the long weekend of the Fourth with us, an especially good time for all three of them to be with us. As of the 1st of July they moved across the street into their new apartment, and altho everything is apparently a jumble of furniture they were all tired and glad of a chance to sleep. The children slept eleven hours each night, and their mother nine. Young Susan seems much relaxed now that the decision has been made, and she herself has made it. Jim apparently could not face the reality of the split although he did nothing to help her move, finally called her movers the day before they were coming to take his things to storage, tried to get her new next door neighbor to take him in as a guest (the woman at first said yes, her husband said NO), tried another unsuccessfully, and then on the day before found a third who did take him. And was dumfounded when he found that Susan was going out to dinner on the 30th and he was not invited. Aren't you going to cook my supper? he asked. No, she replied. No wonder she was glad over the weekend not to have to cook for anyone. (A Korean came in to interrupt the last para. It is not late.

All love, Norman

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

6 July 1966

Dearest Fido,

I had a second delightful surprise today when your second letter from the Boys arrived. I had not dreamed of such bounty. How unusual that you should have met a former schoolmate and classmate with them. he of course will have remembered me on crutches as I was for nearly a year as an undergraduate. But I am delighted that you put me on my own feet again. I shall have to look him up in the classbook to be sure I remember him, for he was certainly an acquaintance rather than a friend. I have just looked him up in the class address book, and find him listed as of New York but as not having communicated. Do I take it he is now of their persuasion? I was such an innocent, and indeed the whole climate was so innocent, that I never made classifications.

The more you tell me about the palazzo the more intriguing it appears, and I am mightily happy that you got there. I was sorry about Kenneth's malaise, though I gather that Sutherland's hands were available if needed. I am intrigued that Islay has turned into a Henty, and that you liked it so much, though I wonder whether Helen will want two Henty's on her list. But it sounds fun. As does Kenneth, though perhaps your suspicion about the core may have something to do with Collins's rejection. It already, I gather, has been accepted by the American house but I gather he is still working on it.

And how I envy you your Etruscan tombs!

Greenland is apparently out for this summer anyhow, to judge by the enclosed letter from Melgaard. I never did hear from Krogh either about the funds or the Vinland map book I sent him, so I gather that other projects have for the moment absorbed their fancies. I am myself a little suspicious that 1967 will not really see the end of Brattahlid either. The little Greenland Museum in Godthaab is in the red Moravian mission that you and I visited together. I discussed this with Melgaard. They do indeed have only a modest collection, but as I reminded Melgaard this is because everything fine has been taken to the National Museum in Copenhagen. I hope that the Danes eventually will feel that at least some of the duplicates can be returned to the Greenlanders. But of course this is a little like the situation with Iceland.

The two copies of The Poetry Review arrived today. My thanks.

I spent the last part of the morning, after having finished the somewhat disappointing manuscript of the book on Cooper and the Sea, by paying some of the overdue bills, possible after the W check had come. On second thought I suspect that the larger amount may have been due to the fact that interest on government and municipal bonds is payable at six month intervals, and Beney went in rather heavily for these as suitable to the dignity of a professor.

Horace's nurse, writes with her bill, that he continues to improve and they hope that in a fortnight he may be able to go home. Marya writes in fine spirits as to his recovery. Pat writes too, enclosing what he describes as "two whopping medical bills." "Actually," he goes on, "I am somewhat confused about what to do with them. You had asked to have father's bills sent on to you...But it does seem to me that at least a portion of the amount should fall under father's Major Medical Insurance and Blue Cross. It would be worse than folly if you were

NORMAN
HOLMES
PEARSON

paying out money that is due us from these insurance policies. I would greatly appreciate your advice on this matter." But how can I write him that I asked to have the bills sent because both he and his mother simply let them lie unopened, to the distress of doctors and hospital? But perhaps with medicare we can fix it so that he and his mother and father can cope. I do at times become weary, and fear I don't do a very good job of it.

I have kept meaning to ask you about the manuscript of January which you are presenting to Helen. Would you like to have me arrange with Maggs to do a three-quarter morocco slip cover for it. (This means spine and corners, otherwise buckram.) Or do you wish me elegantly to have it enclosed in a completely buckram slipcase or a completely leather one. Knowing how slow Maggs can be (they have not yet even started the Romance repair work) I suppose I should get at it. I don't think I ought to hand the papers over to her simply in a manilla envelope. But I stand obedient to your wishes.

We had dinner last night with Eleanor Robley (who was Mrs Wohlenberg), and her husband. She sent her greetings.

All love as always. As I write this you will be back at Kenwin and your bathtub.

Norman

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

7 July 1966

Dearest Fido,

I waited until the afternoon mail on the faint hope there
might be something from you in it, but naturally there was not. Only
the yellowback that came this morning. I'm sorry you won't see the
Urzidils on their visit, but the time you set for your trip to the States
does seem like the best one all around. #Poor Marjorie. Stephen Lewis
does obviously become more of a burden as the months go on, and I only
hope she won't have a second stroke because of the extra work she has to
do.

Nothing really to report from this end. I went over more
filing cabinets, throwing things away like mad while Mrs Sherman stayed
at home to do some typing for Professor Lewis. Lucky man, he gets time
to write, while I pick up his pieces. I read two essays for graduate
students: one on Kenneth Burke and the other on Melville. At least they
are done.

Then I saw a ^Japanese girl, a graduate student, living in a
lonely house for the summer, who had been robbed last Saturday night, and
now fears both robbery and rape. I did my best to comfort her and build
up her courage.

Did I tell you that the high school teacher I had to comfort
last week did return after all, bringing a fan, his own pillow, and ear
plugs against the traffic. "And the whiskey?" I asked him. He had brought
that too. So my therapy seems for the moment to be successful.

Tomorrow morning we meet a careptter at Goodrich Street, with
a long list of repairs to be made during the rest of the summer. I suppose
these are all accomplishments.

All love,