The Letters of T. S. Eliot, Volume 1: 1898-1922

by T. S. Eliot

  If you agree in principle, Jacques Rivière, the editor of La Nouvelle Revue Française, proposes to write to you about the material arrangements and the question of translation.

  I am sending you, under separate cover, a little anthology of my writings from which you will recognise, I hope, that my thoughts are often akin to yours.

  I learn indirectly, from Lytton Strachey who has given me your address, that you have been ill and have been ordered a complete rest. But he also expresses his hope of your very early recovery. I take advantage of this hope to write to you, while apologising for troubling you during your convalescence. The merest response from you, provided it were not a refusal, would allow us to bide our time until your complete return to health.

  With my most cordial regards, André Gide.

  Sydney Schiff TO Vivien Eliot

  TS Alan Clodd

  9 December 1921

  18 Cambridge Sq, Hyde Park, W.2

  My dear Vivienne,

  Please forgive a typed letter but I want to answer your letter at once and if I don’t do it in this way I am afraid I shall not get to it.

  I am delighted that you like Elinor Colhouse and am greatly pleased at what you say about it. It is very encouraging to have a spontaneous expression of feeling like yours and I really am grateful.

  Violet will reply to your interesting letter to her. I do not think you are wrong when you say that the people who matter most to you in London are ourselves (and another).1 I put the other in brackets because I am not competent to form an opinion but I dare say you are right. I know those sorts of impressions one gets when one has been with people who are malicious and I do not think I am much surprised that you have found the particular people you allude to inclined to be spiteful but why they should feel so towards Lady R[othermere] I really cannot understand as she has been extraordinarily kind to them and for that matter to everybody else. It has been my experience though that kindness is no shield against vicious propensities.

  This short letter is no indication of my thought of you and of Tom. I value you both very much and care greatly that you shall both fulfil your destinies and express yourselves as you have a right to. Incidentally if you can get happiness all the better, but I do not think I quite know what happiness is. Certainly it is not a static condition and the term is so loosely used that I always hesitate to employ it.

  I have had a long characteristic letter from K.M. [Katherine Mansfield] which gave me pleasure for it is full of her personality and her personality is a fascinating one. She talks of getting away from Switzerland but I think she alludes to her soul rather than to her body for, poor little thing, her health will not allow her to escape from the mountains which I dare say by now weigh rather heavily upon her. However she and J.M.M. seem to be mutually pleased with each other and that, after all, is a very important consideration.

  By the way, your letter reads exactly as though you were talking, which is a very good sign. Your natural sincerity is one of your fine qualities.

  Believe me with much affection

  Yours always

  Sydney S.

  We have no Lit. Sup. here at the moment but have ordered a copy and will send you a cutting on.

  1–MH: see VHE’s letter to MH, [20? Dec. 1921], below.

  Henry Eliot TO His Mother

  TS Houghton

  12 December 1921

  1037 Rush St, Chicago

  Dear Mother:

  The New York Edison Co. First Lien 6½%’s are O.K. Moody rates them Aa. They are certainly sound. They yield you 6.1% (current yield) at the price of 106½. I have not wired you because I doubt if they will go higher right away, at least not before the new year; yesterday’s paper quotes them at 106. Try to get them at 106 – though after all that is only $10 difference on the two bonds, and not worth haggling over.

  I enclose clipping on Liberty bonds. The 6 Liberty 2d’s that you bought in September at about 90 are now 96.82. The three Liberty 3d’s which you bought at 93 are now 97½. The Western Unions that you bought at something like 102½ (plus accrued interest) are now 107¼, and the Edison Brooklyns must have gained the same number of points, though I do not see them quoted in that paper. It is pleasant to make a profit so quickly – about $750 in two months.

  I think your inscription is beautiful. It is poetry. I hope you or he will send it right on. When will the tablet be made?

  I do not think Tom’s work has deteriorated, though I think his later poems much less inspired than his earlier ones. I attribute that, however, to a too great consciousness of his audience. I think that what he needs, both for his mental health and for the sake of his poetry, is solitude for a while. Tom seemed to me last summer to be going on his nerve. In the first place, he was overworking; in the second place, he had three interests – the bank, the magazine, and his own writings, which are properly two separate interests, the critical and the poetical. All the time what weighed on his mind was a craving for the last of these – poetical composition – and a sort of frantic state of mind at never being able to get around to it. If he could rest thoroughly, and then get a little time to gratify his desire to do creative writing, he would get over his nervous state. I am afraid he finds it impossible to do creative work (other than the critical) at home. Vivien demands a good deal of attention, and I imagine is easily offended if she does not get it well buttered with graciousness and sympathy. She has a keen sense of the practical side of getting ahead in the literary world, or as she puts it, ‘what is the use of being famous after you’re dead?’ in which she may be partly right, but it can be overdone. Tom had a heavy social correspondence to write sometimes in the evening after getting back from Clarence Gate. The strain of going out among people who after all are foreigners to him, and, I believe, always must be to an American – even Henry James never became a complete Englishman – has, I think, been to him pretty heavy. I remember a year or more ago, in a letter to me, he spoke of always having to be keyed up, alert to the importance of appearances, always wearing a mask among people. To me he seemed like a man playing a part. He has got to relax. I almost think it would be well for him to come to this country for a short while, for the sake of the change. The two weeks on the water would do him good.

  I thought the essay on the Metaphysical Poets excellent, and so wrote him. I think I will write him another letter. Is it Poste Restante, Lausanne, Switzerland? or shall I send it to the rue des Saints Pères? or c/o Lloyds? I will send it to you to forward.

  Your affectionate son,

  Henry

  TO Henry Eliot

  MS Houghton

  13 December 1921

  [Hôtel Ste Luce] Lausanne

  My dear Henry,

  This is a Christmas letter – I dare say you may be in Cambridge, but you will find this on your return. I do not appear to have answered your letter of October 20 which is shameful, as you enclosed a cheque for £25 which was very useful and comforting in this emergency. I only worry whether you spend what money you have wisely – i.e. upon yourself. I have never known anyone who had less notion of hygiene, of taking care of health, than you – Vivien says you are worse than I in that respect – at least now that she has taught me – and I do things like taking cod liver oil in winter, and cure a cold at once etc. And I find that I worry less about my health, as a result of looking after it, so that is time saved.

  I have not gone into any details with mother about my health, so do not do so yourself. It is not in fact serious. The great thing I am trying to learn is how to use all my energy without waste, to be calm when there is nothing to be gained by worry, and to concentrate without effort. I hope that I shall place less strain upon Vivien, who has had to do so much thinking for me. I realise that our family never was taught mental, any more than physical hygiene, and so we are a seedy lot. I should like to talk about these things with you. I felt that I got, or was beginning to know you better – when there exists any difficulty in speaking, it is never so great as between near rela
tives. I only hope that we can keep the new connexion alive by writing, and at least begin where we left off, when we meet again.

  I am very much better, and not miserable here – at least there are people of many nationalities, which I always like, and I like talking French better than English, though I think English is a better language to write in. I am certainly well enough to be working on a poem!

  Do write to me to London (I shall be there before the middle of January). Don’t forget England, even if it makes you miserable. If you keep it in mind, you will come back.

  With much affection

  Tom.

  TO André Gide

  MS Mme Catherine Gide

  14 December 1921

  Hôtel Ste Luce, Lausanne

  Monsieur,

  Je viens de recevoir votre gracieuse lettre, que vous m’avez adressée à Londres. Puisque vous saviez déjà que j’ai été souffrant, j’espère que vous aurez tiré la conclusion – en attendant une réponse – que je n’étais plus chez moi: donc, que vous ne m’en voulez pas à cause du délai.

  Certes, je tiens votre proposition pour un compliment du premier ordre, et je serais ravi de collaborer à La Nouvelle Revue Française. A ce moment, malheureusement, je ne suis pas à même de vous donner la réponse que je voudrais. Jusqu’à ce que je reprenne ma vie normale, je ne sais pas ce que seront mes forces ou mes loisirs. Je rentre à Londres vers le 15 janvier.

  Ce n’est pas à moi de poser des conditions – si la N.R.F. est content d’attendre, je serai bien interessé de continuer des pourparlers (Je voudrais bien savoir 1. combien d’articles par an 2. l’étendue de chaque article – S’il s’agit seulement de livres de quelque valeur littéraire, je ne crois pas qu’il y ait de quoi rédiger un article tous les mois). – Si la N.R.F. ne peut pas attendre, je n’ai qu’à exprimer mon regret trés vif.

  Je passerai plusieurs jours à Paris vers le 5 janvier. Si vous ne serez pas à Paris, je pourrai peut-être voir M. Rivière. Mais j’espère me pouvoir donner le plaisir de faire votre connaissance un de ces jours.

  Je serai bien content de recevoir le livre, quoique je connais de vos oeuvres depuis onze ans. Si vous ne me connaissez que par le Sacred Wood j’aurai envie de vous envoyer mes poésies, qui sont au moins supérieures à mes proses!

  Je quitte Lausanne à Noël; après, la seule adresse que je puisse vous donner c’est Hôtel du Pas de Calais, 59 rue des Sts Pères, Paris jusqu’à ce que je rentre à Londres.

  Je vous prie, Monsieur, d’accepter l’expression de mes sentiments les plus distingués.

  T. S. Eliot1

  1–Translation: Dear Sir, I have just received your kind letter, which you sent to my London address. Since you already knew I was ill, I hope you concluded – while waiting for a reply – that I was not at home, and so do not hold the delay against me.

  Indeed, I consider your invitation as a compliment of the highest order, and I should be delighted to contribute to La Nouvelle Revue Française. At the moment, however, I am not in a position to reply as I would like. Until I take up my normal life again, I do not know how much energy or leisure I shall have. I go back to London around 15 January.

  It is not for me to state conditions. If the NRF is prepared to wait, I shall be very interested to continue negotiations (I should very much like to know 1. how many articles a year 2. the length of each article – if it is a question of dealing only with books of a certain literary standard, I don’t think there will be enough material for an article every month.) – If the NRF cannot wait, I can only express my keen regret.

  I shall be spending several days in Paris around 5 January. If you are not going to be in Paris, I could perhaps see M. Rivière. But I hope I shall be able to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance one of these days.

  I shall be very pleased to receive the book, although some of your works have been known to me for the last eleven years. If you know me only through The Sacred Wood, I should like to send you my poems, which are at least superior to my prose writings!

  I leave Lausanne at Christmas; after that, the only address I can give you is Hôtel du Pas de Calais, 59 rue des Saints-Pères, Paris, until I return to London.

  Yours most sincerely, T. S. Eliot

  FROM Scofield Thayer

  MS Beinecke

  18 December 1921

  1, Habsburgergasse 2, Vienna.

  Dear Tom,

  I was glad to hear from Pound that you looked not badly when he saw you in Paris.

  I am sorry to receive a letter from Mr Seldes in regard to ‘a lad named St John Hutchinson whom I used to know at the Foreign Office’. Mr Seldes writes further: ‘He is a charming lad and a great gossip. And he sent us a horrid and vulgar and tedious and totally impossible London Letter. Not knowing how close his connection with Eliot may be, Watson1 and I decided to send him a small cheque for the article. We sent him $25 which was about 2/3 of the actual amount it came to as 1/3 of it was so out of date that we felt justified in refusing to consider it. But this $25 is pure loss and we do not feel justified in printing the article at all. I managed to explain that the article came too late to be printed in the current number and to prevent the man from sending any more. Arrangements for a substitute we have not yet made, but we must have something before March which is the earliest date of restoration of Eliot’s correspondence.’

  You see I believe in frankness and hope you understand that Mr Seldes, Mr Watson and Mr Thayer are all very sorry indeed that the charming lad was not delivered of so charming a letter as his friend Mr Eliot and as we Mr Eliot’s friends had hoped.

  I am writing Raymond Mortimer2 asking him to let us have a London Letter. But I do hope we shall have a new London Letter from you soon and howsoever good your next London Letter may be the best thing about it will for me at least be that it will indicate that you are well again.

  Merry Christmas!

  [unsigned]

  1–James Sibley Watson (1894–1982), doctor, inventor of early internal X-ray procedures, silent film maker, and co-owner of The Dial.

  2–Raymond Mortimer (1895–1980), critic and writer, whom TSE had known at Oxford. After writing his first ‘London Letter’, he went on to succeed TSE as London correspondent of the Dial at the end of the year. Literary editor of NS, 1935–47.

  TO Sydney Waterlow

  MS Waterlow

  19 December 1921

  Lausanne (leaving Saturday)

  My dear Sydney,

  Thanks awfully for writing to me – this is a dull place, and I am grateful for letters. Yes, I am feeling much better. I have been under Vittoz, who is not a psychoanalyst, but more useful for my purpose; I was aware that the principal trouble was that I have been losing power of concentration and attention, as well as becoming a prey to habitual worry and dread of the future: consequently, wasting far more energy than I used, and wearing myself out continuously. And I think I am getting over that.

  I shall not stay in this carte-postale colorée [picture postcard] country any longer than necessary – its chief recommendation is that it is full of foreigners – American countesses, Russian princesses, Rumanians, Greeks and Scandinavians, Czecho counts, Belgian punks etc. I am not quite certain whether I shall immediately rejoin Vivien in Paris, or go south first. Apparently all of Western Europe is equally expensive. I’m delighted to hear that your holiday was such a success – you sent me p. cards, but no address on them. It’s also delightful to know that you will be as near as Holland Park. I shall return sometime in January and hope to find you installed. I don’t think you will regret it.

  No, I don’t expect to visit Montana.1 I had a letter from J.M. just before leaving England – so curious that it was quite impossible to reply at all.2 Its bearings are also curious. But more of that later.

  I am trying to finish a poem – about 800 or 1000 lines. Je ne sais pas si ça tient. [I do not know if it will work.]

  Yours ever

  T.S.E.

  1–Montana-Sierre in Switzerla
nd, where Katherine Mansfield had been living since May, and where JMM had now joined her.

  2–The letter from JMM has not survived.

  Vivien Eliot TO Mary Hutchinson1

  MS Texas

  Tuesday [20? December 1921]

  Hôtel du Pas-de-Calais,

  59 rue des Saints-Pères, Paris

  Mary!

  Paris was too much for me, and for the first three weeks I was stunned. I wrote to no-one. I could not remember England. I felt so strange. It comes of having been shut up in England for about seven years. It is bad for one. It is very painful, being torn up by the roots, and thrown, hurled, alone and stunned, into such a strange way of living. The first weeks were really painful. I was so absolutely alone. I was almost frightened. All the French I knew deserted me. I did things, but they made no impression, were no good. Only very gradually, and not fully yet, I have begun actually to live here. The first few days with Tom were very perfect, and it was only after I saw him climb into that dreadful Swiss train, and me left on the platform, at 9.20 in the evening, that I felt someone had taken a broomstick and knocked me on the head. After that I forgot London and everything and everyone, and became absorbed in getting a clutch on Paris. Do you see? I have even forgotten Tom. No-one seems at all real to me. At the end of ten days I decided to go to Cologne. I knew a man there. It took me four days to arrange passports and visas, and at the end of that the mark dropped 500, and I got a cold. The man was returning to Paris in a fortnight. So I wired, and said I would not go. Just at that time I saw Roger [Fry], in the post office. He did not seem at ease, or pleased to see me, and escaped hastily. What makes life difficult is the awful expense. I am paying for this myself. I live in a high up little room, and have meals en pension which I loathe, to save money – but everything is too incredibly dear. It costs fortunes.