The Letters of T. S. Eliot, Volume 1: 1898-1922 (42 page)

BOOK: The Letters of T. S. Eliot, Volume 1: 1898-1922
2.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 
TO
His Mother
 

TS
Houghton

 

8 August 1917

18 Crawford Mansions

Dearest Mother,

This must be a very short letter, as it is late; several business letters I had to write took much longer than I expected. I got back from Bosham Monday night, after a very rainy week. We went out every day however, and got soaked on the water – there was very little wind and much rain, and we had to row home always – and I think got benefit out of the holiday. Bosham is not as good harbour as [East] Gloucester, as there is a narrow channel and a strong tide, but sailing is the same thing everywhere. We had a delightful sail Sunday. The morning was very bright, and we sailed about ten miles down the harbour to have lunch with some friends who have a house in a remote spot. The wind brought us most of the way back, then it began to rain and we had to row. Bosham is less beautiful naturally than Gloucester, but more picturesque; the village is much prettier. The natives are much the same, and have a curious middle-western twang.

I am
sure
that I acknowledged that $12 long ago! In fact, I remember the letter – I think it was in May. I am very sorry you have had so much trouble over it, and that I did not write again to thank you. I have the suit, as you know.

I wrote to father for money several weeks ago. I presume he will cable it to ‘Linen’.

Now I
must
stop and write again on Sunday. I will tell you more about Bosham.

With very much love
your devoted son
Tom

TO
Eleanor Hinkley
 

TS
Houghton

 

8 August 1917

18 Crawford Mansions

Dear Eleanor,

I wrote you a brief but rather dull letter about ten days ago; as it occurred to me that it was just possible the letter might never reach you,
and as I have a moment spare before going to bed, I am writing you a still briefer one to let you know that I have already written. I sometimes think it is better to write brief letters – unless one had one particular thing to say at some length; one sits down to write a ‘good long letter’ and becomes conscientiously dull – I do, I am sure you don’t! Short letters are sometimes more personal. I remember Jean Verdenal saying to me when I left Paris that Space more than Time would separate us.
1
I think one feels space less in a short letter.

I should like to write oftener, just to be able to feel more certain that we should recognise each other and have more or less a common language when we meet again. I don’t imagine you as changed at all – I am sure that I don’t want to! – as for myself, I think that in some ways I have improved (somewhat less selfish and more considerate), also hardened a bit. However, we shall see eventually.

My plan is that when I come over after the war you and Aunt Susie will come back with me for a visit.

I have just returned from a week at the seashore, splashing about in a boat. Vivien is staying on for a few days, and so I am alone till Monday. I meant to write a long review this evening, but my time has been taken up with letters.

Affectionately
Tom

1–See Verdenal’s letter of 5 Feb. 1912.

 
TO
His Mother
 

MS
Houghton

 

Sunday 2 September
2
1917

[London]

My dearest mother,

It is a long time since I have written. I have thought of you all the oftener for not writing, however. I have in the last two weeks – I think it is ten days or more since I wrote – done two articles for the
Egoist
, and two for the
New Statesman
, and have nearly finished a longer one. I must now begin at once to prepare my two sets of lectures; which will involve reading a number of authors of whom I know very little: Brontë, George Eliot, Emerson, Charles Reade, Kingsley, Huxley, Spencer, Samuel Butler. I should slip a prospectus of one of my two sets of lectures into this letter, but I know that enclosures are not allowed. While I enjoy these lectures very much in
a way, I shall be very glad when I can give them up altogether, for they take a great deal of time that I want to devote to work of a more permanent nature. Just at present they form a very important addition to my income,
2
but at my present rate of increase of salary I can reasonably look forward to a time when they will be unnecessary, and I shall be able to spend
all
my spare time exactly as I please. When I can earn all the money I need out of one thing, and be able to read and write in the rest of my time without thinking of the financial reward for what I do, then I shall be satisfied. The lecturing really takes more out of me than the bank work during the day. Vivien is staying on for a few days more at Bosham; and I have been for the past five days with my friends the Dakyns’s, who live about ten minutes walk from us. It is an economy, and they leave me quite to myself for working, and going out or coming in when I like; and they have a large house with a good library, so that I am quite comfortable. I shall go home again in a day or two, not to abuse their hospitality too long.

I wonder how much longer you are staying at Gloucester. I like to think of you being there until October, but perhaps it will be cold by then. I see that the first draft is being called up soon.

I must get back to work. It is Sunday, and I must make the most of it. After all, without working very hard, I think the times we live in would be unendurable.

Always your very devoted son
Tom

1–Misdated August.

2–TSE was to receive a flat fee of £1 per lecture.

 
Vivien Eliot
TO
Mary Hutchinson
 

MS
Texas

 

Saturday [8? September 1917]

South View, Bosham

Dear Mrs Hutchinson

I am not sending back your story
1
today because I want you to let me show it to my husband – will you? I know he would be so interested, and I enjoyed it immensely – it is so vivid and amusing. You
must
let me show it to him. Please write me a line and say yes. I will take great care of it – and you shall have it back as quickly as possible.

I must really go back on Monday – there are ever so many reasons. So write to 18 Crawford Mansions (
W.1
) to say if I may show it. Of course I will not until I hear.

I enjoyed our talk. I hope I shall see you in London.

Yours
Vivien Eliot

1–MH’s story ‘War’ was to be published by TSE in
Egoist
4: 10 (Dec. 1917).

 
TO
His Mother
 

MS
Houghton

 

12 September 1917

[18 Crawford Mansions]

My dearest Mother,

I have begun to be very busy the last few days preparing my lectures. One set covers very much the same ground as my lectures at Southall last year, but more broadly, beginning with ‘The Makers of 19th Century Ideas’, lectures on Carlyle, Mill, Arnold, Huxley, Spencer, Ruskin, Morris – then the poets, and then the novelists.
1
I have never read much of George Eliot, the Brontës, Charles Reade, or the Kingsleys. I have read
The Mill on the Floss
and
Wuthering Heights
last week. The other course is a continuation of last year’s;
2
they want me to start with Emerson, go on to Samuel Butler and Wm. Morris, then the Pre-Raphaelites, and so on. Both of these courses depend for their continuance upon the enrolment at the first few lectures, so I am waiting anxiously. The first lecture is on the 28th. The preparation keeps me fairly well occupied, along with the
Egoist
, the
New Statesman
, the Spanish Irregular verbs, and the subject of Foreign Exchange, which I find very knotty in the books on the subject. I am behindhand with Jourdain too. I have been trying to read May Sinclair’s
Defence of Idealism
to review for the
Statesman
and Jourdain.
3
She is better known as a novelist. Did you ever hear of her? She is a pleasant little person; I have met her several times.

Vivien will be back in a day or two, and will no doubt begin cleaning at once. I have been looking after myself, and the rooms have not been cleaned for ever so long. I make oatmeal overnight and warm it in the 
morning. She is going to bring up quantities of blackberries to make jam.

London has been having perfect weather lately; I only hope you have had as good. I am sorry you intend to leave Gloucester early, but I suppose as you say it is very expensive. You have had Charlotte and the children for a long time; it must be fatiguing at times. I should like to know what Theodora is like now. I suppose very tall.

When I was at Bosham I wished that I could take you out sailing there. I don’t regret all the sailing that you and I and father did together, I assure you!

Your devoted son
Tom

I am sorry Henry does not get away.
I should like some ice cream.

1–Starting on 28 Sept., TSE was to give a course of twenty-five lectures on Victorian Literature at the County Secondary School, Sydenham, under the auspices of the London County Council.

2–See TSE, ‘Syllabus for a Tutorial Class in Modern English Literature, Second Year’s Work’ (1917); in Schuchard,
Eliot’s Dark Angel
, 41–4. His salary was raised to £70 for the year.

3–TSE’s unsigned review appeared in NS, 22 Sept. 1917, but he did not succeed in placing a second notice either in Jourdain’s philosophical journals or in the
Egoist
(letter to EP, 23 Sept.). Already a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, May Sinclair (1863–1946), author of
The Three Sisters
(1914), became the first woman member of the Aristotelian Society after publication of
A Defence of Idealism
, and was among the first novelists to use ideas from psychoanalysis. TSE was to publish her story ‘The Victim’ in C. 1: 1 (Oct. 1922).  

 
Vivien Eliot
TO
Mary Hutchinson
 

MS
Texas

 

Wednesday [12? September 1917]

18 Crawford Mansions

Dear Mrs Hutchinson,

Here is your story – and my husband is ever so pleased with it. He is going to write to tell you so. I admire you very much.

Yes, please do what you can to find me a cottage – it is the one thing I want. But I forgot to tell you it must be
un
furnished. I have so much furniture I want to get rid of from here. Besides, I shd. hate other people’s furniture.

It would have been nice to have stayed a few days with you. I wish I could have.

It really is not bad to be back again. It is nice to see people once more, when I am away I am apt to forget that people – friends – really
are
important.

Let me know when you come back, and you
must
come here and see us. We shall both like that. Meanwhile let me hear the minute you can, about the cottage, and do go on writing!

Yrs.
Vivien Eliot

TO
His Mother
 

MS
Houghton

 

19 September 1917

[London]

Dearest Mother,

I shall send this to St Louis, as I am sure that you will be there by the time this arrives. It has seemed like winter here today. The clocks have been put back to solar time, so that what
was
half past six last week is half past five now; so it seems dark much earlier; and today has been a rainy dark day like winter. Saturday still seemed summer; it was hot and cloudless; I spent the afternoon on the river with a man in the bank
1
who owns a ‘sailing canoe’; they are tiny little boats like toys. You sit on the edge of the cockpit with your knees up to your chin. A breath makes them move, but they are very steady. There was no wind, and the water was covered with rowboats and punts and canoes; still, it seemed like sailing.

Vivien came back Monday afternoon, after a very crowded and tiring journey; with a quantity of blackberries, which she has made into delicious jam, working all day yesterday; so she is now quite exhausted. She is better on the whole, I think, but she had a severe migraine today in consequence of her efforts.

I had a pleasant evening with Professor Hocking of Harvard a few days ago. He was just returning. He is a very nice man, but not very intelligent. He had been invited (among others) to come over and inspect conditions here and report them in America – saying of course whatever he likes. He did not impress me as having learned much. I should like to see [James] Woods. He is much more alert.

I am busy reading Emerson. He strikes me as very wordy. He has something to say often, but he spreads it out and uses very general terms; it seems more oratory than literature. His biography is interesting, and contains many familiar names.

I must stop now. It is late.

Your very devoted son
Tom

No letter from you so far this week.

1–James de Vine Aylward (1871–1966) had been a painter of horses and a pupil of Bouguereau (1825–1905) before the war. He was to publish a monograph,
The Small-Sword in England
(1945; rev. edn, 1960), as well as
The House of Angelo
(1953) and
The English Master
(1956). Fluent in French and German, he became TSE’s assistant in the Foreign Intelligence Bureau at Lloyds Bank, and was a great support during his domestic problems.

Other books

The Silence and the Roar by Nihad Sirees
WAYWARD BRATS by Jaymee Pizzey
Hitched by Karpov Kinrade
The Hidden Goddess by M K Hobson
Cat's Cradle by William W. Johnstone
Sharps by K. J. Parker
Thursday's Child by Teri White
The Boy I Love by Marion Husband