Dear Donald, Dear Bennett

by Bennett Cerf

  The only other breathtaking news I have for you at the moment is that after twenty-three years of married life, Leonard and Helene Gans have busted up. The next thing you know, Charles Evans Hughes and his wife will go pfft!

  Love and kisses, and come home soon. This is an order!

  As ever,

  Bennett

  July 22, 1944

  Dear Bennett:

  I haven’t written for quite a while—but that’s merely because of a combination of being busy and very stuck on the Base with nothing to write about except operations—and I can’t write about them! We’ve been going along at a good steady pace and have done some excellent bombing in the past week—any time the weather is good enough for our boys to get a good visual run on the target they can plaster it—the thing to find over here is the visibility! I’m managing to keep busy but I have plenty of help now and my job here is done. All is running smoothly—and there’s a tendency to get bored as the very devil with the whole setup.

  The war news really looks fine now. I don’t know whether this attempt on Hitler’s life is a phoney or is on the level but either way it’s to our benefit. The Russians are still performing their miracles—the Italian line is moving—the beach head is, at least, secure and we’ll bust out of that when we’ve piled enough stuff in there so that we can really drive ahead. Even the Japanese deal is looking up, and as long as we don’t fall for a lot of tricky government changes the end is in sight. Then our troubles will really begin—settling the whole mess.

  The final figures for R.H. certainly looked good—here’s hoping we can do as well this year. I suppose with your colossal outside income R.H. is becoming chicken feed for you, but remember, you bastard, I’m dependent on it for eating! By the time I’ve paid my back income taxes I don’t expect to have any dough outside of this business. I receive letters from everyone saying how well Thrup is looking these days and that Chris has become a fixture around the office. That’s mighty fine. If they throw me out of the Army before the next campaign there’s a chance that you’ll win your bet yet. I certainly hope you do as I’ll like nothing better than to get back to R.H. and home.

  I haven’t been off the Base in a month so no news. Give my love to all at the office—and yourself of course.

  Donald

  August 18, 1944

  Dear Don:

  This is to report that Private Cerf has returned to duty at 20 East 57th Street, bronzed, rested and shorn of all pot-belly by four to six sets of tennis a day and God knows how many swims. We managed to miss the greater part of the worst heat wave that has hit the Eastern part of the United States in fifty years. This doesn’t mean that we didn’t get our share up in Maine, where the temperature hit an unbelievable daily average for a week of 93 degrees, but at least there was no humidity up there and the lake was always nearby for quick relief. I really had a fine time, and Natalie only spent two hours of the three weeks talking about you and unfinished business of one sort or another that she sincerely hopes some day may be consummated.

  Chris took to the place like a duck takes to water, and I really got to know him better than I ever have before. He will be three years old tomorrow and is really turning into a great kid. I am also very bullish on Jimmy Manges, who was with us on the vacation and is turning out to be a swell youngster in every respect.

  When I got back I found everything at Random House in apple-pie order: business fine and the outlook for our Spring 1945 list remarkably good. We’ll start off with the postponed Aquinas, Lewis Browne’s anthology, THE WISDOM OF ISRAEL (a perfectly swell job), Walter Clark’s novel which is finally shaping up, and George Stewart’s new book which has brought raves from authorities on the subject who have read the manuscript. That is a sound nucleus, my boy, and there will be plenty of money-making trimmings to surround it.

  I would now like to touch on a subject that is very close to my heart. It seems to me, if I may say so, that you have done your full share for the U.S.A., and that it would be almost inexcusable for you not to take advantage of a discharge, if one is offered to you, when the European phase of the war is ended. It is no longer a case of all of us fighting for our lives. I think it is fair to say that our victory is now absolutely certain and that it is only a question of how long a time it will take to bring it about. Under the circumstances, I think that a guy of your age has done more than his share in giving two and a half years to the cause. You can let younger fellows finish up the job and can come back to all the things that mean the most to you, and know that you have well earned the right to enjoy the rest of your life. A lot of fellows you know of 38 to 40 who had commissions and were stuck in this country are getting out as fast as they can, or at least are trying their damndest to.… Please bear in mind that we really need you here at Random House. We’ve got all kinds of plans for the future and we simply won’t be able to carry them off unless you are here to shoulder your part of the load. I am not kidding about this, Don. I simply don’t think there are any two ways to look at it. I am very anxious to hear your reactions to this line of thinking. I can honestly tell you that I think the first day I see you back at your desk here will be the happiest of my entire life.

  As ever,

  Bennett

  September 6, 1944

  Dear Don:

  No word from you in several days now, but I suppose you are so busy you haven’t time to write. It certainly looks like the end for the Nazis, and Wall Street evidently concurred in this feeling today, because it staged one of its little old peacetime busts. Our old friend Dorothy Thompson is picking this moment to nauseate and disgust people by yapping for a soft peace at the very moment when I think we should be toughest. I think she’s gone mashuga.

  …

  Under separate cover, I am mailing you a copy of a form letter that we are sending out to the entire book trade to put them au courant with the Modern Library situation. The very first thing that we will do when paper restrictions are lifted is to get the Modern Library back into stock 100%. As you know, we’ve remade a lot of the plates and brought several of the anthologies up to date. Once we get the new numbers all into stock, it is going to be a better series than ever.

  We’ve fallen into another potential JUNIOR MISS situation. Carl Randau and Leane Zugsmith’s little novel, THE VISITOR, which we published several months ago, has been made into a play that will be produced by Herman Shumlin this Fall, and the Warner Brothers have already bought it for a minimum of

  $150,000.00. We’re in for 10% of one half on all dramatic and picture rights. (The other half goes to the playwright who adapted the story.) In other words, we’ve finally struck gold in Leane, proving that with the world in its present condition, absolutely anything can happen.

  I took Pat down to your safe deposit box yesterday and pulled out some deed to the Mt. Vernon property that your mother wanted. You evidently forgot to give Pat the power of attorney to this box before you left and, judging by her comments, you will be hearing something about this when you come back. I think you will be able to take it. The only other hot news I have for you at the moment is that a former wife of yours over the telephone yesterday called me a hypocrite and a heel. I expect her to do better when she really gets warmed up.

  As soon as you have the faintest idea what the immediate future holds in store for you, please write as many details as you are allowed to. As the time grows obviously nearer for your return to Random House, we are all getting more and more impatient. Jezebel, for instance, has sworn not to shave again until you come back. It’s the Elliot Paul influence.

  Love,

  Bennett

  Sept. 13–1944

  Dear Bennett—

  Back at the Base again—after a week of travel around the south of England. Saw Salisbury, Winchester, Oxford, Canterbury, Dover and London—Dover’s like a ghost town and I found out why when I was there as the Germans sent over a salvo that sent me sassying for the train as fast as my long legs would carry me. That artillery is d
angerous! Had lunch with John Strachey—saw Stephen Spender at his club—John’s going to run for Parliament and continue to write—says he.…

  I just received your two letters—Aug. 18 & Sept. 6—and I can assure you that as soon as this act of the show is over I’m going to make every effort to get out of the Army and back to R.H. Thanks for your kind words—but R.H. seems to be doing gloriously without me. These August shipments are really something! Bob writes me that you’re thinking seriously of buying a leasehold on the 57th Lex Bldg. I should think that if real estate is having anything like the inflation that all else is having this would be a lousy time to do such a thing. Obviously without really knowing anything about it I can’t express an opinion—but it sounds like a helluva chunk for us to write off. That overhead has a tendency to remain when business slackens off a bit.

  I can’t tell you how anxious I am to get out of the whole thing now and get back to Pat, Lois and all of you. This is no longer any fun—I’m no good on the winning side—as soon as I know anything definite—I’ll let you know. In haste.

  Love,

  Donald

  Sept. 23–44

  Dear Bennett—

  Not much to write about these days. We had two missions in the last two days and were stood down again to-day. The weather seems to be Hitler’s best friend these days. Outside of a flight over to France I haven’t done a damned thing worth talking about and I didn’t stay in France long enough to do anything. Or did I write you that in my last letter.

  Am in the midst of Argentine Diary which I find a very interesting and frightening book. How in hell are we going to stop all of this damned nonsense? In prolonging the war I think Hitler is going to allow us to cure the Germans but the damned bug has spread to all corners of the earth. I won’t feel that this war is won until Franco is thrown out of Spain, but Winston and FDR seem to think that he’s all right. They don’t need anything that he has anymore—why do they still pamper him? What I started out to do was thank you for the two books which did come thru’ at long last. I’d begun to despair of getting any books thru’ the mails altho’ I knew you’ve sent them. The more I think of buying that leasehold at 57th Lex, the less I like the idea. I’d a helluva lot rather buy a small building that we could occupy in its entirety except for the store, than a big chunk like that which would put us in the real estate business. Or if we’d bought it when the N.Y. market was down that would be another story but I can’t believe that prices aren’t up if space is scarce. Obviously, however, whatever you and Bob decide is completely agreeable to me.

  The war goes well but the supply problem is really tough and I suspect will continue to be until Boulogne, Calais and maybe even Antwerp are operating as ports. It’s a long hand across France and we raised hell with those bridges for months. We can take in a lot by air but weather makes that unreliable. Here’s hoping that the British can really turn the flank of the German defenses and make a sizeable dent into Germany.

  Give my love to Thrup, Chris, Pauline and all my friends at the office. I hope it’s not too long until I see you again.

  Love,

  Donald

  September 27, 1944

  MAJOR DONALD S KLOPFER 0-906841

  BOOK OF MONTH CLUB AND WE HAVE SIGNED AGREEMENT WITH GROSSET DUNLAP TO BUY CONTROL LATTER IN SIXTY DAYS CLUBS SHARE SEVENTY FIVE PERCENT OURS TWENTY FIVE PERCENT HARPERS WILL PROBABLY PARTICIPATE ALSO WE WILL HAVE COMPLETE MANAGERIAL RESPONSIBILITY TOTAL INVOLVED SOMETHING OVER TWO MILLION BELIEVE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO US BUT MUCH EXTRA WORK HOPE YOU CAN TAKE OVER SOON WRITING

  BOB BENNETT

  October 2, 1944

  Dear Don:

  I am dictating this letter to Jezebel in the dining room of 132 East at 9:15 P.M. on Friday, although I know she won’t be able to type it for you and get it off until Monday. This is the very first moment I have had to write you the details of just about the most hectic week in the career of Random House. I have read the carbon copy of Bob’s letter to you, so I know that by this time you have all the bare details at hand, but I know equally well that you will want to know some of the sidelights. I will try to hit the highlights for you in this letter.

  The wonderful part of the deal is that we snatched it right out of the jaw of Marshall Field and of the smarty pants at Simon & Schuster at the very last minute. The maiden was just about to be burned at the stake when the U.S. Marines dashed into view. Marshall Field will go right on with his deal with Dick and Max and the ubiquitous Mr. Shimkin, but we put one hell of a crimp in his plans for the time being anyway. The general setup was a terror. Field was to buy Grosset (with Doc Lewis acting as his manager) and then was to buy a big hunk of Pocket Books, People’s Book Club, Cuneo Press, and Simon & Schuster itself. Don’t ask me why the hell Dick and Max want to sell part of their business. Personally, I think they are drunk with dreams of empire and are being led blindly by Shimkin, who may be getting just a little bit too smart for his own good. The deal with Sears Roebuck on the People’s Book Club has been a pip. Their membership is close to a quarter of a million already. Also, through Max Schuster’s becoming a director of the Encyclopedia Britannica they are all mixed up with the University of Chicago on some elaborate publishing plans that may turn out to be something like that list of esoteric tomes that Arthur Rubin submitted to us some years ago (remember?). Anyhow, there they were with Field’s millions, Shimkin’s shrewdness—and Sears Roebuck in the background with a new book concern, a Grosset reprint, the People’s Book Club, and Pocket Books, with Cuneo Press to print the stuff. What a package offer they could make to any author. The whole publishing fraternity was running around in near panic—with Donald Grosset the most scared of all.

  Speedy work on the part of Harry Scherman and our own Robert K. Haas saved the day. Bob really did a superb job on the whole negotiations. By Monday morning, when the deal was finally set, sheets of flame were spurting from both his nostrils and a near-sighted lady mistook him for the Twentieth Century Limited. We gave Harper’s twenty-four hours to decide whether they wanted to come along or not. If you can imagine old Henry Hoyns making a decision of this importance in twenty-four hours, you are a better man than I am. Cass Canfield, however, pulled his end of the deal off.…

  So now we are all set. We’ve got sixty days to take over the joint. Don Grosset will ride along, but of course we’ll need some stronger, tougher and more up-to-date management above him. We’ve got to throw out a couple of hundred items that don’t carry their weight on the list any more. We’ve got to re-jacket good properties that are still packaged in their 1905 format. We’ve got to replace a few old dodoes who should have been put out in the old folks’ home ten years ago. We’ve got to get out and bid for some of the current best sellers that have been going to Doubleday and Ben Zevin simply because nobody from Grosset was alert enough to go after them. Above all, we’ve got to get started in the chain store and drugstore field. Grosset has simply let this end of the business go by the board—an unbelievable miscalculation because Doc Lewis with his Triangle Books, and Zevin with his Tower Books have shown, in two years, that this is where the great mass markets of the future are going to be really developed.

  This brings me down to a little more talk about Mr. Ben Zevin. I don’t remember whether you even met him or not. In the two years since you’ve been away from the book business, he has grown from a little peanut to a guy whose business last year topped the two million mark. It is our notion that Mr. Zevin might be just the baby we need to run the new Grosset & Dunlap for us, and if we don’t get him, it won’t be because I haven’t exercised every wile at my command. I dragged him down with me yesterday to meet the assembled new bosses of G. & D., and he made a terrific impression. He is not the kind of guy you’d want to go away with on a long vacation but, for that matter, who’d want to go away with Hoyns either. Zevin is tough, hard-boiled, imaginative—and he’s honest. Furthermore, he knows that chain store business inside out. He is really a dynamo. He is mixed up w
ith his father-in-law out in Cleveland and I gather that both of them will be really delighted to get rid of each other. The old man can go back to his lucrative Bible and Dictionary business and get rid of his obstreperous young son-in-law, and the unneeded headaches of the reprint book business at one and the same time. At least, this is the way I dope it out, and it will be a great blow if I prove wrong. I am afraid Doc Lewis is irretrievably signed up with the Marshall Field interests and if both these guys are unavailable, we’ll then have one hell of a time to find the right man to run the show for us. Of course, I will let you know the minute this angle is cleared up.

  What we want most, of course, is to have you back on the job at the very earliest possible moment. You can see for yourself that even if we get Zevin our responsibilities are magnified ten times over. The future of the book business lies in the direction of mass markets and I feel that now we are right in on the ground floor, if we only know how to take advantage of our incredibly wonderful opportunity. Field and the Simon & Schuster gang will have to wait until paper is available to even start competing with us. By that time I hope we’ll be so far out in front that we can watch their efforts, no matter how frantic, with complete equanimity. Lew Miller is, of course, seething with ideas for selling such literary gems as the Bobsy Twins and the Pollyanna books (which, it pains me to say, still sell about 30,000 apiece every year). Everybody else at Random House is also longing to get his finger into the pie. The fact remains, however, that we’ve got a full-time job in our own expanding business and you can’t get back too soon to suit us. I hope that all this business at least convinces you of one thing: that there will be plenty of work for you to do when you get back to your desk!