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Philip Larkin

Page 12

by Philip Larkin


  If the poler has any sense he will then give up learning to punt and will take out a canoe.

  Well, I must be off to dinner. Do keep happy & don’t pay any attention to Churchill. I don’t & don’t forget to feed the typewriter.

  Philip

  12 May 1941

  S John’s College, Oxford

  Dear Pop

  […] With regard to my trousers, they are too good to firewatch in, you impudent scoundrel! Chah! Brr!! Where’s my horsewhip?!! They are a speciality of this particular shop who made one pr. of each colour and can make more to order. I don’t say they aren’t monstrous but I like them. The blazer is well fitting – possibly if I did grow a paunch it would be too small, but I doubt if I shall. The Army and subsequent hard labour and privations will keep away any surplus fat, I should think. And touching the war, there are numbers of nasty rumours flying about: Such as no one but scientists allowed to come up; compulsory O.T.C., no more war degree sections, and so on. I had noticed that my registration provisionally falls on Jan 1st 1942, but this may easily be altered if the demand arises. […]

  I hope you continue to keep well and that a house soon presents itself to your notice.1

  Love, Love, Love,

  Philip

  P.S. I apologise for a certain childish tone I discover in this letter on re reading it.

  1 Sydney’s search led to the purchase of 73 Coten End, Warwick, in the following month, June 1941.

  15 May 19411

  S John’s College, Oxford

  Dear K.,

  Thanks for your letter and elaborate envelope. I rather like this combination of ink and paper at present – paper is “blue shade” according to the cover. Woodja believe it?

  I have one or two odd things to tell you – I have bought a pair of crimson trousers – dark crimson. They are the only pair in the University. Also, I have joined an elementary psychology group under John Layard (“Barnard” in “Lions and Shadows”)2 which is really extremely interesting and the answer to my question “Why did I come to Oxford?” He favours Jung and has worked with him. Briefly:

  As the foetus before birth goes through all stages of evolution (amoeba, fish, reptile, animal, ape, man) so does the psyche.

  Post-natal disorders & dreams cannot therefore be explained in terms of post natal experiences (differs from Freud.)

  The further and deeper one penetrates into the psyche, the greater is the help one gains from it. ∴ Psychology is necessary.

  ———

  There is much more. The point of this “impersonal unconscious” is that fundamentally all men are alike. Yugoslavian peasants dream of symbols that were incorporated in ancient Egyptian religions and so on. Never believe that you are unique, said Layard. That is a fundamental neurosis. You aren’t.

  ———

  In the beginning, man may have been perfect. But he had to combine with his fellows to conquer nature. This entailed “Sinning against his instincts.” Thus every rise in moral, social, and spiritual-God values is accompanied by an equal fall in animal, individual, and natural instincts.

  The natural thing to do is to placate nature for having sinned against her. Therefore religion arises – crudest religions entail sacrifice of animals. Symbolising the sacrificing of the instincts. Likewise Christ (sacrifice of).

  The way of salvation lies not away from the instincts but into them. (Layard vague here, or else I can’t remember.) Any man who disbelieves his animal side e.g.

  will pretty soon

  and become a criminal or neurotic.

  Knowledge of the instincts, e.g.

  (Symbols: Christ descending 3 days into Hell: savages religious initiation in models of animals)

  is wise.

  ———

  (Could tell you lots more but I haven’t time. But it was like an evening spent with truth.[)]

  ———

  […]

  Write again soon,

  Love,

  Philip

  1 Written in bright blue ink and with elaborate handwriting; addressed to Katherine Larkin, c/o 85 Stanfell Road, Leicester.

  2 A lightly fictionalised autobiography by Christopher Isherwood (1904–86), subtitled ‘An Education in the Twenties’, published in 1938.

  25 June 19411

  S John’s

  Dear Mop,

  Thanks for your letter. After your callous suggestion that I should “wash one or two out if you are short”, I have spent a soapy hour battling with 7 of the little beasts. I have changed their colour from dark grey-green to medium grey-green. God! You should see me.2

  I have bought a bottle of Endrine3 but even that seems to have lost its customary potency. Hell! Luckily today seems likely to be less luridly hot and tortuous than yesterday & the 10 days previous.

  In Bagley Wood we carry trees about4 –

  And generally tire ourselves out in unpleasant ways. However, I suppose it’s frightfully healthy and so on.

  How queer to see the new address on the paper! I shall address this there – I suppose it’ll find you. I can hardly believe it doing so. I shall be quite interested to see what sort of a place it is. Have I got one of the attics?

  The most unpleasant feature of life at present is that all the milk is sour. I couldn’t eat my porridge this morning because of this, and my coffee was vile.

  By the way, if you’d like another little trip to Leamington, you might order HMV X6252 and Parlophone R2807.5 The former is on their special list, the latter is not yet issued but is available on order.

  Yours sneezingly,

  Philip

  1 Addressed to Beauchamp Lodge, 73 Coten End, Warwick. In June 1941 Sydney Larkin moved the family home from ‘Penvorn’, 1 Manor Road, Coventry, to this newly-bought house.

  2 The nose in the drawing is inked in red.

  3 A nosespray remedy for hay fever.

  4 Bagley Wood: ancient wood between Oxford and Abingdon (in Berkshire until 1974, now in Oxfordshire). Since 1557 most of the wood has been owned by St John’s College.

  5 HMV X6252: Fats Waller and his Buddies, ‘Harlem Fuss, The Minor Drag’ (recorded in New York 1929, featuring Eddie Condon). Parlophone R2807: Eddie Condon and His Orchestra, ‘Home Cooking / The Eel’ (UK reissue, 1941), Parlophone Jazz Classics Series (2), No. 17 / No. 18.

  14 October 1941

  S John’s

  Dear Mop (& Pop),

  Thank you for your letter, received this morning. As regards rooms, I am in the President’s lodgings, in one of the converted servants’ rooms, and a sitting room that I share with another man. (That is where I am now.) I arrived, however, roomless, and it was only after seeing Poole that I obtained accommodation.1 I think Poole is losing his grip. Anyway, Bone is ill, and I may have another tutor. The rooms are quite comfortable, but directly over the President’s study, so I can’t play my records there. Consequently I live mainly in other peoples’ rooms.

  I saw Dorothy Rowley yesterday, and fled!

  The Cherwell, you will be interested to hear, has closed down owing to a mighty deficit of £40 or thereabouts. I don’t wonder; and I am pleased that I shall spend no more weary Thursdays chasing round College trying to sell it. I shouldn’t have contributed either, in all probability, as poetry seems to have given me up, and I never write any prose short enough for it.

  Next week end will be a furious rush. I said independently to Gunner, Hughes, and Jim “Come up for a week-end sometime.” Needless to say, they have all chosen next wk-end, so I shall have an unholy task trying to make them feel they each have my undivided attention. This week promises well as regards entertainment, for I have treated myself to a stall at the New Theatre, where the Old Vic Company in entirety are doing “The Cherry Orchard.” (Tchekov) You probably remember having to dust it on the desk. Then on Friday the Film Club are giving a show of “The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari” – an early German film (1919) with Conrad Veidt in. Altogether I am enjoying myself hugely.

  For Pop’s benefit
; the Communist agitation for a Western front is much greater here, and the University is plastered with posters and deluged in pamphlets. Their argument is: “If we can’t invade when ¾ of Hitler’s troops are occupied in Russia, when in Heaven can we?” I have been badgered to join the Labour Club, whose membership has gone up immeasurably.

  The jam is being ate swiftly, but with appreciation. Fine!2 The butter & biscuits are no more. The barley sugar isn’t opened yet. I think I’ll try it now, as I have only had a college breakfast. The food is most unimaginative here.

  Best wishes,

  Philip

  1 Austin Lane Poole (1889–1963), a historian, was Senior Tutor at St John’s (1931–45) and later President (1947–57). He edited the poems of Gray and Collins for the Oxford Standard Authors series. Larkin wrote in his memoir ‘Biographical Details: Oxford’, ‘My room, due to a misunderstanding with the Senior Tutor, was an attic in the president’s lodgings.’ About Larkin 23 (April 2007), 7.

  2 Sydney Larkin was a keen jam-maker.

  24 October 1941

  Friday

  S John’s

  Dear Mop,

  Thanks very much for your news from the front. Weather as I have mentioned before, is nippy, but beautifully clear; everything here (except work) is highly satisfying. Last night I went to bed at 10 p.m., quite early for me. My friends saw the evening to bed at 2 a.m.

  I heard from Kitty today quailing under the invasion of inspectors and so forth. She wrote on her swagger crested paper in answer to one of my orange telegrams. Mrs Yeomans termed it “a startler.” I don’t wonder, myself.

  As I may have told you I have been (unknown to myself) elected to the College Essay Society. This is AN HONOUR, the Essay Society being the College Society and composed of serious-minded young intellectuals under the Presidency of a don. Considering the circles I move in, I’m surprised.

  (me moving in circles)

  Jim will arrive (I hope) today. I’m very much looking forward to seeing him, and hope this weekend will be more successful than last, which was generally a mess. My Oxford friends didn’t like Colin, and don’t like Josh anyway, and so relations were strained.1 Added to which, the Proctors2 complicated matters. But this week end will be peaceful, friendly, and broken only by the wildly pulsating strains of the negroidist jazz.

  This term is easily the best yet, and I shall be really happy sorry (Is this Freud?)/ to leave.

  People are generally friendly and pleasant, work easy, jokes funny, food nice (this is my imagination, I expect) and everything Edenian (not Anthony.)3

  With this happy thought I close hurriedly – Someone has just called.

  Yours very warmly (the radiator’s full on)

  Philip

  1 Colin Gunner and Noel (‘Josh’) Hughes: schoolfriends from King Henry VIII School, Coventry.

  2 Internal university police.

  3 Anthony Eden (1897–1977), Conservative politician; Foreign Secretary 1935–8, 1940–5 and 1951–5; Prime Minister 1955–7.

  6 November 1941

  Postcard1

  Oxford Union

  Life proceeding very merrily after the week’s tute. Just played 2 games of billiards & am going to “La Traviata” tonight. Last night (Nov 5th) an unpopular member of the College was debagged by instruments of divine justice (Norman, myself &c) and there followed a full scale fire practice with real bombs and hoses. We squirted the Bursar.

  Sorry I forgot you yesterday!

  Much love,

  Philip

  1 Addressed to Mrs Sydney Larkin.

  14 November 1941

  St John’s College, Oxford

  Dear Katharine,

  Thank you so much for your bulletin of light College chit-chat, touching upon latest developments in the modern theatre. “The Monkey’s Paw,” eh? Plenty of scope for a’tistic staging, I presume: for those penetrating flashes of psychological direction we have come to expect from Eisenstein, Korda and Louis Milestone. I trust you will put “A Katharine Larkin production” on the programme. S. Hugh’s as far as I know haven’t got a play yet – nor have they opened fire on me yet.

  Life proceeds merrily with a maximum of expenditure. I was polyfotoed again this morning – no mean task.1 Just the kind of thing you would hate. From what my face felt like, I faced each shot with a shy smirk that will look peculiarly revolting. I also did my hair (as far as possible) in the Rupert Brooke Coiffure you approved of once. The results will be posted home I suppose – so you may see them before I do. I don’t anticipate them with any pleasure.

  I saw the play “Spring Meeting” last week. As a play it is much less ‘disturbing’, being nearly a pure comedy. Bijou was as grim, but had less to say. The film gave too many close ups of her.2 I also saw “The Ghost Train”, for the ?th time. I shrieked at A.A.’s gags – “one night ….. as they were pushing the bodies in …..” – and all the rest.3

  Margaret Iles is no relation of Norman, who is flourishing like the green bay tree. I had a[n] evening of the riotous amusement last week which laid me on my back for one Sunday morning and afternoon, and caused me to miss the meeting of the O.U. Rhythm Club. Also Old Coventrian teas which I haven’t yet attended. I hope you are holding up under the strain of the authorities & Vidjin-Jenks (spelling???) and Mrs Jones; from your timetable it would appear that you have plenty to occupy your mind: it must be difficult to be ceaselessly adapting your personality to the different subjects and classes. You are very clever to be able to do it.

  With very much love,

  Philip

  PS College people seemed to think your stamps were a V sign!

  1 Polyfoto ran a chain of high street photographic studios which specialised in taking forty-eight head and shoulders shots printed on a single sheet. Customers could choose the best poses for enlargement and individual pictures, when cut out, were of a size to fit into a wallet or purse.

  2 A 1941 British comedy film directed by Walter C. Mycroft and Norman Lee, starring Enid Stamp-Taylor, Michael Wilding, Basil Sydney and Sarah Churchill. It was based on the play by M. J. Farrell and John Perry. Aunt Bijou in the film was played by Margaret Rutherford.

  3 A 1931 British comedy-thriller film directed by Walter Forde and starring Jack Hulbert, Cicely Courtneidge and Ann Todd, based on the play by Arnold Ridley. Arthur Askey played a vaudeville comedian, Tommy Gander.

  17 November 1941

  St John’s College coat of arms

  Dear Mop & Pop,

  I have a sinking feeling of not having written you a line for about 3 days – so here is a brief bulletin.

  I enjoyed my trip to London very much. I caught the 8.15 a.m. bus from Oxford and with 2 other men – one of whom knows London – arrived at Victoria at about 10.30. Following a late breakfast at a Lyons, they left me to my own devices; so after vaguely wandering I attempted to get to Tottenham Ct Road by tube, which I accomplished after losing my way – or rather the way to the correct line – several times. Having reached T. C. Rd I entered the Horse Shoe where the O.U. Rhythm Club was congregating, and we all went off to St. John’s Wood. The Jam Session was really very fine – not that the Jam was of a very high standard, but one occasionally got visions of what a real American one would be like.1 We had to leave before it finished to catch our 6.0 bus, which we did in the hell of a rush by taking a tube to Piccadilly Circus & a taxi thence to Victoria. We just got the ’bus. Back in Oxford at 8.30.

  Thanks to Pop for his letter (12/XI/41) and cuttings; I don’t know anything about Vernon Watkins, but we are having his “mester”, Dylan Thomas, at the English Club tomorrow. Incidentally the secy of the Club, David Yeomans (whom Pop knows, at least by repute) is dead – died of heart failure last week. This quite shook me, as I had been talking to him only the day before etc, &c.

  Talking of etc, the Experimental Theatre Club did a play called “Enrico Quatro” by an Italian – translated, of course; about the madness of modern life: it was very good.2 Other undergraduate performa
nces will be forthcoming, I expect: all I’m doing is helping to shift scenery from one house to another for the girls of Westfield College. All my relations with women coll’s have produced unhappy results – I quail at what time may bring from this.

  Yrs with love,

  Philip

  1 This jam session, at the Abbey Road Studio of HMV, was the first to be recorded in Britain. It is available on Tolley and White (eds), Larkin’s Jazz, disc 2 ‘Oxford’, track 24.

  2 Enrico IV, by Luigi Pirandello, premiered in 1922.

  24 November 1941

  St John’s College coat of arms

  Dear Mop & Pop,

  I must apologise for having left you so long unadvised, and regret that I may seem to have neglected you. Things have been rather busy. […]

  Talking about writing, the Labour Club Bulletin will probably print a new poem by me this week. I know the editor, Kingsley Amis: but the Bulletin is only a stencilled rag of no great circulation or influence.1 The poem itself is nothing to do with Communism but might be interpreted that way. I’ll send you a copy if it ever materialises.

  The squash racquet is being used quite a lot and I enjoy using it. Only now is my right hand beginning to develop anti-blister flesh to guard against friction – I wish I weren’t such a tender slice off the joint.

  Thank you for your letters – write again soon. Many loads of love –

  Philip

  1 ‘Observation’ was published in the issue of November 1941.

  5 December 1941

 

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