Letters (44 page)
Authors: Saul Bellow
In the present state of the world we could do worse. We might also attempt to spend less money, both of us. You, as a Tolstoyan, are even pledged to this. [ . . . ]
To Ann and Alfred Kazin
July 26, 1961 Tivoli
Dear Ann and Alfred,
I’m terribly pleased with your approval of poor Herzog. I’m here in Tivoli finishing up—or shall I say writing the book? That’s more like the truth.
Men makht a leben kam mit tsores
[
67
]. Now the tomatoes are coming in, I have no pressing economic problem, if the woodchucks will only lay off. It would be wonderful to run up to Wellfleet and visit with you for a day or two. Since that can’t be, why don’t you come to Tivoli for a long weekend in the fall? Fall and spring are Tivoli’s best seasons. Very beautiful. Great deal of room here, woods to walk in, fields, and it would give me very great pleasure. Let’s negotiate this when you return from the Cape.
Men makht a leben kam mit tsores
[
67
]. Now the tomatoes are coming in, I have no pressing economic problem, if the woodchucks will only lay off. It would be wonderful to run up to Wellfleet and visit with you for a day or two. Since that can’t be, why don’t you come to Tivoli for a long weekend in the fall? Fall and spring are Tivoli’s best seasons. Very beautiful. Great deal of room here, woods to walk in, fields, and it would give me very great pleasure. Let’s negotiate this when you return from the Cape.
Thanks and love,
To Arno Karlen
August 17, 1961 Tivoli, N.Y.
Dear Mr. Karlen:
I’m sincerely sorry if I offended you at the [Wagner College] conference. That I should have failed you was inevitable, since no one ever gives up the belief that there is a “mana,” as the Polynesians call it, which must be transferable. I myself have often been indignant with older writers, and I know how you must have felt. But I believe you may have missed something Jewish that passed between us. Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, goes the old saying. Your talents were so obvious to me that I fixed at once upon the things that were less satisfactory. Among these were tendencies present in me, and superabundantly present, at your age. In scolding you, was I perhaps correcting myself a long generation ago? “Perhaps” is simply rhetoric. It was positively so, and when you say we are running on parallel tracks you confirm this. I noted at once in your writing the power to cut through superfluities, the hardness of attack that I favor. But the solipsism gets us all. Everyone is writing
Ulysses
all day long, within himself, and when we speak we speak sentences out of an inward context—only the tip of the iceberg appearing above the surface. So that you heard only the clause beginning with “but,” and not what preceded it.
Ulysses
all day long, within himself, and when we speak we speak sentences out of an inward context—only the tip of the iceberg appearing above the surface. So that you heard only the clause beginning with “but,” and not what preceded it.
What I should have said to you about being a writer would have gone something like this: One has the choice now of coming before the world as a writer or actually being one. The Mailers and the Angries are dissatisfied with what you call the rapping on the cell wall, and they have decided to make a public appearance in the writer’s role. I don’t take you for a silly man. You are nothing like an Angry; still you were encountering difficulty in the role, and wanted to be acknowledged by the others. It seemed to me a trivial thing for you to be doing. You had it all over most of the people there anyway, and weren’t denied publication, and you might therefore have gone a little more softly with them, less gifted and less lucky as they were. An odd tightness or hardness came over you when they criticized you. I saw my own pale tense face twenty years ago, and I spoke and no doubt said the wrong thing. I owed you this explanation then but didn’t offer it because I was distracted, annoyed with the whole conference and angry with myself for having gotten into it. To deal with seventeen people within ten days was not easy. And the financial reward was negligible. In ten days of hacking I can easily earn twice as much, three times as much as Wagner paid me, so I was not there certainly for the money. I can’t believe that you’d really think there was more to say than, To be a writer one learns to live like one. This I said repeatedly and with variations. The craft one learns oneself. The main business is to find the most appropriate and most stimulating equilibrium. You are a person who writes; the most exacting criticism I could make wouldn’t have ten cents’ worth of value in the end because your critical principles will come from you. They will appear as you write and rewrite. For this reason I don’t feel at all guilty towards the seventeen at the conference. For tactless-ness, yes; for failures of instruction, no. I was there to make my own views clear; that’s all anyone can do in this enterprise. To the best of my ability I did make them clear. People who write have their own strong conception of how things should go. They tend to be despotic in life, as they often are towards their characters. There were therefore seventeen quite complete versions of how the thing was to go. And I provided the eighteenth.
I frankly and willingly admit that to interrupt the writing of
Herzog
irritated me and possibly made me bearish. I am however always available to you for private conversation. Maybe we can clear some of this up.
Herzog
irritated me and possibly made me bearish. I am however always available to you for private conversation. Maybe we can clear some of this up.
Good luck with the Army.
Arno Karlen is the author of, among other works,
Napoleon’s Glands
(1984),
Man and Microbes
(1996) and
Biography of a Germ
(2000). Wagner College is in Staten Island, New York.
Napoleon’s Glands
(1984),
Man and Microbes
(1996) and
Biography of a Germ
(2000). Wagner College is in Staten Island, New York.
To Ralph Ross
August 20, 1961 Tivoli
Dear Ralph—
Congratulations to you both. I remember Groucho in some picture, astonished to learn from Margaret Dumont how many children they had, saying, “Let’s keep one of each kind and give the rest away.” You seem to have achieved the optimum instinctively, without wasted motion.
End of joke. I’m really very happy for you and Alicia.
All best wishes,
To Harvey Swados
September 28, 1961 Tivoli
Dear Harvey:
[ . . . ] You and I belong to a very tiny group from whom something may be expected. I know what you mean. Malamud’s book [
A New Life
] was dead. When he enlarges his scope, or tries to, he comes up with all the middle-class platitudes of love and liberalism. Then you see that the poor guy has been living on some dream of a beautiful and cultured life in Oregon—Lewisohn Stadium floating across the continent with the orchestra playing Tchaikowsky’s
Romeo and Juliet
. The thing was mean and humorless. I think you and I have something to be grateful for in the Marxism of our twenties. It made us cantankerous, certainly, but it injected a kind of hardness. I often feel it now as I write
Herzog
. I am no socialist at all, but I have a certain feeling for reality which probably owes a debt to radicalism. I hope
Herzog
will amount to something. As for the magazine, well, I had the fire going and it seemed a shame not to put in another iron. If it doesn’t turn out to be another sword we can beat it into a pancake turner.
A New Life
] was dead. When he enlarges his scope, or tries to, he comes up with all the middle-class platitudes of love and liberalism. Then you see that the poor guy has been living on some dream of a beautiful and cultured life in Oregon—Lewisohn Stadium floating across the continent with the orchestra playing Tchaikowsky’s
Romeo and Juliet
. The thing was mean and humorless. I think you and I have something to be grateful for in the Marxism of our twenties. It made us cantankerous, certainly, but it injected a kind of hardness. I often feel it now as I write
Herzog
. I am no socialist at all, but I have a certain feeling for reality which probably owes a debt to radicalism. I hope
Herzog
will amount to something. As for the magazine, well, I had the fire going and it seemed a shame not to put in another iron. If it doesn’t turn out to be another sword we can beat it into a pancake turner.
In January I have to go to Chicago for the winter quarter. I’ll be back again in April. Let me know what your plans are. I want to see you. It’s been years. We can meet in New York, or at Valley Cottage or at Tivoli, or even Yaddo. We’ve finally cornered Elizabeth [Ames] and there’ll be a swimming pool at Yaddo this coming year.
All best,
To Richard Stern
[n.d.] [Tivoli]
Cher compagnon
:
:
I take
Herzog
out of this machine in order to write legibly [ . . . ] I stayed away altogether from the Malamudfest. I liked his book so little I couldn’t face the music. So I ate pastrami alone, in grief, while they were drinking champagne cocktails at F[arrar] and S[traus]. Luckily I have been spared the agony of telling anyone so far what I found in the autopsy of that book.
Herzog
out of this machine in order to write legibly [ . . . ] I stayed away altogether from the Malamudfest. I liked his book so little I couldn’t face the music. So I ate pastrami alone, in grief, while they were drinking champagne cocktails at F[arrar] and S[traus]. Luckily I have been spared the agony of telling anyone so far what I found in the autopsy of that book.
Comrade, on a separate page I am sending a short bibliography for that course. Could you ask the [English] Dept. to make it an afternoon seminar?
Herzog
needs me in the morning. I can argue, like Chaliapin: “Sing? I cannot even spit till lunchtime.” And I have no apt. And will Shils be there? The apt. is necessary because of Adam, whom I expect to have on weekends.
Herzog
needs me in the morning. I can argue, like Chaliapin: “Sing? I cannot even spit till lunchtime.” And I have no apt. And will Shils be there? The apt. is necessary because of Adam, whom I expect to have on weekends.
Europe
, I’m sorry about. It’s an amusing book, and that’s against it now. The mild comedy in these apocalyptic times is considered middle-class.
Blutwurst und Senf
[
68
] is what the book-cruds want. Iron punches to the heart and cathodes to make the genitals twitch. Look, it’s obvious. Henry Miller and Henry James can’t both be winning. Somebody’s lying. Henry James is in the frontroom by the lace curtains, but in the backrooms—ha! And [your]
Europe
is situated nearer to the old Henry. Well, you will triumph yet. You’re doing well against the smaller dragons. Soon you’ll be ready for the St. George model. I saw your review of
Catch-22
, and that was what I thought of it too. Candida [Donadio] sent it to me with a stirring cry.
, I’m sorry about. It’s an amusing book, and that’s against it now. The mild comedy in these apocalyptic times is considered middle-class.
Blutwurst und Senf
[
68
] is what the book-cruds want. Iron punches to the heart and cathodes to make the genitals twitch. Look, it’s obvious. Henry Miller and Henry James can’t both be winning. Somebody’s lying. Henry James is in the frontroom by the lace curtains, but in the backrooms—ha! And [your]
Europe
is situated nearer to the old Henry. Well, you will triumph yet. You’re doing well against the smaller dragons. Soon you’ll be ready for the St. George model. I saw your review of
Catch-22
, and that was what I thought of it too. Candida [Donadio] sent it to me with a stirring cry.
Soon I will be in Chicago, melancholy euphoria following paranoid hypochondria. Alert the clinicians and stand by.
See you soon,
Stayadinovitch
Stern’s dissenting review of Joseph Heller’s
Catch-22
had appeared in
The New York Times Book Review
.
Catch-22
had appeared in
The New York Times Book Review
.
1962
To Susan Glassman Bellow
[Postmarked Chicago, 9 January 1962]
Dolly:
The rounds go on. I’m hardly ever alone, and in a way that rattles me, too. It’s too unlike my life. Sunday my sister and my brother M[aurice] and Adam—Adam is simply wonderful. He phoned me this morning and said he had to talk to me. Sondra got on the telephone and said he was afraid of my disappearing like Uncle Lester. It’s marvelous to be such a psychologist. Anyway, I’m taking Adam to Lesha’s little girl’s birthday party on Thursday. That made him happier. He sounded slightly tearful.
Oy
, we with our tears oiling the wheels of the universe. If we had no tears we wouldn’t be ourselves, but the mind still finds them an oddity. Anyway . . . M[aurice] gave me a handsome Irish tweed coat, the houndstooth check, which seems to fit. But apparently I insulted him bitterly when he said he couldn’t read any of my books, except a few chapters of
Augie
; the rest was nonsense to him and he failed to understand how they could be published profitably. I said after all he was not a trained reader, but devoted himself to business and love. He was offended and said I didn’t
respect
him, and that I was a terrible snob. I thought I was being angelically mild, and put my arms about him and said I was his loving brother, wasn’t that better than heaping up grievances? Finally I melted him from his touchiness. He freezes when he’s offended, and if you think
I’m
vulnerable, I recommend you study him. Shils gave me a long lecture on the touchiness of Jews.
Oy
, we with our tears oiling the wheels of the universe. If we had no tears we wouldn’t be ourselves, but the mind still finds them an oddity. Anyway . . . M[aurice] gave me a handsome Irish tweed coat, the houndstooth check, which seems to fit. But apparently I insulted him bitterly when he said he couldn’t read any of my books, except a few chapters of
Augie
; the rest was nonsense to him and he failed to understand how they could be published profitably. I said after all he was not a trained reader, but devoted himself to business and love. He was offended and said I didn’t
respect
him, and that I was a terrible snob. I thought I was being angelically mild, and put my arms about him and said I was his loving brother, wasn’t that better than heaping up grievances? Finally I melted him from his touchiness. He freezes when he’s offended, and if you think
I’m
vulnerable, I recommend you study him. Shils gave me a long lecture on the touchiness of Jews.
Well, there’s a little news. I’m working, I’m well, I’m paid up, I miss you—I miss you in the sack. I’m waiting for the 23rd, and I love you,
Bellow and Susan Glassman had married in November.
To Susan Glassman Bellow
[Postmarked Chicago, 11 January 1962]
Dolly—
I think
Herzog
is about to enter the final stages—two last sections, neither too long, and we’re finished.
Herzog
is about to enter the final stages—two last sections, neither too long, and we’re finished.
Not much else gets done, between teaching and writing and check-signing. When you come, perhaps I can catch up on reading as well as fucking. I begin to have erotic dreams about you. And maybe my poor health is nothing but misapplied eroticism (according to St. Norman O. Brown and others of the Freudian church). Had dinner last night (Wed.) at The Coast with Morrie, my brother, and his lady friend and his neighbor Lionel the Knight of the Corridor (Karpel). And now I’m off to fetch Adam, take him to Lesha’s party, take him home, come south, lie down and wait for more dreams.
Love,
To Susan Glassman Bellow
January 16, 1962 [Chicago]
Dolly—
Another blizzard, a mere eight inches this time. I was in a snowdrift—night, starless. And chainless. So I had to jack the car again and put on the chains. No fun this time. It was cold, and filthy, and in the dark it took an hour. All the buttons came off the coat my brother gave me, and it’s not fit to wear now. Also, I came home exhausted and took to bed (9 P.M.). So I’ve sworn to lose weight. I feel a million years old. But I got up this A.M. and wrote the nightclub thing in two hours and got it off (the chains were more troublesome). Next, I’m going to move up my Jewish introduction [for the anthology
Great Jewish Short Stories
].
Faute de mieux on couche avec les manuscrits
[
69
]. Your letter delighted me this morning. I treated myself like a tired warrior: lunch at the club, a haircut, a slow walk. Now it’s about class time, I’m going below. Your ma has invited me to the Epicurean Restaurant Friday. Great relief after the Camelia Room. (The camelias were wax.)
Great Jewish Short Stories
].
Faute de mieux on couche avec les manuscrits
[
69
]. Your letter delighted me this morning. I treated myself like a tired warrior: lunch at the club, a haircut, a slow walk. Now it’s about class time, I’m going below. Your ma has invited me to the Epicurean Restaurant Friday. Great relief after the Camelia Room. (The camelias were wax.)
I so miss you, Dolly.
Yours,
To Susan Glassman Bellow
January 17, 1962 [Chicago]
Dolly—
Towers of snow, and we peek out like prairie dogs at Grand Canyon. The air is stale in here, but the windows are stuck with frost. I keep driving (I’ve lost one chain) in and somehow out of snowdrifts. Could use a little Tivoli, and you on the sofa in my arms breathing peace and love into my arms.
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