Philip Larkin
Page 28
Well, I thought your poem very good – very skilful by the way; do you notice how he does it all on two rhymes? – and feel that it is surely what one would wish anyone one loved in the lean years of age.1 It sounds indeed very like the poem you are always looking for! Are you sure it isn’t? That Henley was a good deal in Pop’s hands at Warwick. […]
I hope your visit to Dr Folwell was successful – you never told me what happened about her son.
Well, I won’t dredge up further remarks for I shall be seeing you soon. Monica might look in on the Thursday evening but that will liven up your mind pleasantly enough, won’t it? Drop me a card to say you’re expecting me.
Much love,
Philip
1 On 13 May Eva had written to thank Philip for the ‘lovely letter and sweet violet’, which she had ‘put in Henley’s poems to mark a most lovely poem which I came across last Sunday evening whilst looking for the poem which Daddy showed me one evening at Warwick. / I will copy it, because I somehow can imagine that Daddy might want it to be like this now for me. (Maybe you know the poem already.)
When you are old and I am passed away –
Passed, and your face, your golden face, is gray –
I think, whate’er the end, this dream of mine,
Comforting you, a friendly star will shine
Down the dim slope where still you stumble and stray.
So may it be: that so dead yesterday,
No[t] sad-eyed ghost but generous and gay
May serve you memories like almighty wine,
When you are old!’
‘When you are old’ by William Ernest Henley (1849—1903), English poet and critic.
23 May 1952
Postcard
Leicester LMS1
I must thank you for once more for my stay – everything was so nice, except for the incident pictured in Fig one! However, I hope the second figure is also true. I hope you will have yr bath & a good relaxing rest, & that clouds will all flee away like spiders before yr broom. Enjoy your weekend – hope I do mine! All love to old C. from young C. Philip.2
1 LMS = London, Midland and Scottish Railway. Presumably sent from the station.
2 On 27 May Eva replied: ‘How kind of you to send me a card on Saturday and how I both loved it and was amused by it. The irate creature looks really terrible – just as it sounded – to me at least. The two dear creatures in the second sketch look much nicer. Don’t bother about the “incident”. I have nearly forgotten it, and I expect it was partly my fault for speaking as I did. / I got your card from Paris ce matin.’
24 May 1952
Picture postcard1
Saturday
Arrived safely dear creature, & apart from everything being about 2ce as dear as I expected things have not gone too badly so far. Thank you again for the lovely tea & supper. Love xx P.
1 Paris – La Tour Eiffel. Philip visited Paris with Bruce Montgomery on 23–7 May.
27 May 1952
Hotel Madison, Paris
Tuesday morning.
My dear Creature,
I can’t get any answer to my knocks at Bruce’s door, so I suppose he is still asleep! It’s after 10 on our last day, & I’m a bit ashamed I haven’t sent you more than a postcard in this brief crowded visit. The flight was quite all right – a salmon supper served on the way – & we got here about 11 – to the hotel, I mean. We then sat about in cafés till nearly 3. People seem never to go to bed! On Saturday we walked about in the morning – fine sun – warm but not hot – in the afternoon slept & ascended the Eiffel Tower, & in the evening ate a very slow dinner & went to a night club where there was reputed to be “le jazz” – & there was indeed. I enjoyed it all tremendously, though the best people advertised as appearing “chaque soir” did not do so. Drinks cost about 15/- apiece, though the place was only a cellar full of wooden tables & stools. To bed late – & quite unable to sleep, far too excited!
On Sunday we sat about in the sun & ate at a new café one of my Belfast acquaintances had recommended – quite cheap & good. I had hors d’oeuvres, pork, & bananas & cream. In the afternoon we walked about again, & in the evening went to a theatre, after which there was further café-sitting till about 1 a.m. Monday was a very nice day: I went into Notre Dame in the morning, then we went off to lunch. Unfortunately hayfever greeted me in the afternoon – by now the weather was very hot – so I went back & lay down till evening.
Going out again, we paid our second visit to the Ritz bar (the first was on Saturday, midday) & then went to the Opera – Salomé, by Richard Strauss. You’ve no conception of the enormous size of both the total interior of it & the actual auditorium – all marble & red plush & a chandelier as big as a cottage depending from the middle of the roof. The music was very fine.1 Having left that, & had another drink or two, I inveigled Bruce back to the jazz club & we stayed till it closed at about 2 a.m. this morning. Today we leave! by the evening ’plane.
Of course there is so much more to say that this is a mere skeleton of our stay: many times I have thought of your “un peu” though I have really done no more than order breakfast by room telephone in the mornings. Paris is much less crowded & busy than London, & parts are very sweeping & impressive. But the traffic! Apart from being quick & ruthless, it comes at you from the wrong side all the time, so that, bothered already, you fall into a worse confusion & fall on your knees in prayer. I shall need a certain time to recuperate after these late nights, but it has all been great fun. If I went again it might be with a more frugal person, but this time I’ve seen one kind of Paris & on the whole it’s the kind I expected. Art galleries & Museums will wait till next time!
Now I think Bruce is stirring & I must close. Happy weekend! Hope this reaches you.
Love,
P
1 Eva responded on 29 May: ‘How lovely to visit Notre Dame and to hear the opera Salomé. I hope you’ll tell me all about everything when you have time. / When I last wrote to A. Nellie I mentioned that you had suggested I might set up house in Belfast, but added that she mustn’t take it seriously, as it was only a suggestion.’ She also mentioned that Nellie’s son-in-law George had suggested she might buy ‘a house in Hyde as near to them as possible’. She asked Philip: ‘What do you think of their suggestion?’
26 June 1952
30 Elmwood Avenue, Belfast1
My dear old creature,
I have now got 2 single-berth cabins from Heysham for the 17th, so we shall be travelling in peace. You owe my mother 12/-! as Kitty’s nightdress case used to say,2 but of course it doesn’t matter till I see you. I’m not sure of the way from L’boro to Heysham – I expect we change at Manchester.3 If you return alone, I wondered if you could break your journey at Manchester at least to the extent of perhaps lunching with Auntie N. & being put on the night train by her. I’m so glad Miss McN4 is staying with you. You’ll have to “entertain” her.
No, I’m only joking. You needn’t really. I am sorry you can’t “relax” because of the weather – truly very sorry. Silly old creature – not really silly – no harm can come to you from clouds!
Not like this. Well, you will have a good rest here. Nothing to do at all but CLEAN MY KITCHEN: I expect you’ll find lots of little corners of dust that I generally ignore.
The weather’s been really hot today & my hayfever has reappeared, somewhat to my annoyance. Nearly all my friends have gone now & I can settle to a lonely cheap existence, I hope. The laundry has not returned my bedcover, which I sent them in a fit of diablerie last week to clean.
“Now my dear Eva”, you will have a good rest this weekend, won’t you? Imagine there are legions of sturdy creatures sleeping in all the other rooms.
1 Queen’s Chambers letterhead crossed out.
2 Kitty’s daughter Rosemary recollects that this nightdress case, called (in its own spelling) ‘Blak Pussy’, was used to house n
otes with messages about money owed by Eva or Kitty. Kitty continued the tradition into the next generation, putting notes about Rosemary’s pocket money in it. It still survives. See Plate 11B.
3 After much strategising and many changed plans, Philip had arranged to come across and accompany Eva to Belfast. Her doubts and anxieties multiplied. On 21 June she wrote: ‘You ask me whether I could fly back alone. To tell you the truth I don’t like flying at all. […] Why I should be more afraid to fly back I don’t know. There would be other people in the ’plane of course. Would you be able to see me off? Where does the plane start from? Can I get from Birmingham to Loughborough without changing? I don’t much fancy coming back alone at all. I ought to stay until you come over in September!! I might find the house burgled!’ In the event she returned by ferry and spent three weeks in Hyde with Nellie before returning to Loughborough. She wrote from Hyde on 16 August: ‘I have thought about you and your dear little flat so much. […] I did so like my stay with you and enjoyed our little trips abroad.’
4 Effie McNicol, a friend of both Kitty and Eva, lived at 3 Radmoor Road, Loughborough, opposite the end of York Road. She had been the secretary of Dr Herbert Schofield, founder of Loughborough College (now the University) and had served with the British forces in France in the First World War. Eva affected superior amusement at Effie’s forthright, brusque personality (‘Isn’t she a caution!’).
29 June 1952
30 Elmwood Avenue, Belfast
My dear old creature,
[…] One odd thing that is happening next week is that Kingsley is coming for an interview for a job in the English department. Of course for years we’ve been saying that it would be marvellous to have a job in the same university; & I suppose it would in many ways: however, I shall not be utterly desolated if he is unsuccessful, not because of personal feeling so much as of certain knowledge of the inroads he would make on my time & possibly money. (They are penniless again, by the way.) The interview’s on Tuesday. Somehow I don’t think he will get it.
With my best love & kindest wishes,
P. […]
22 September 1952
Picture postcard1
Have received the Guide today2 – thanks – & used it to come here. Near here is Beatrix Potter’s house, & we had a lovely time there.
Weather dry so far. We are now going to look at Wordsworth’s old school.
Love,
1 Esthwaite Water.
2 On 20 September Eva wrote: ‘Thanks for your p.c. this morning. I have to-day sent off the guide book to Grasmere, although I wasn’t quite clear whether that was where you wanted me to send it.’ Philip and Monica were on holiday in the Lake District.
12 October 1952
30 Elmwood Avenue, Belfast
My dear old Creature,
[…] I had an interesting evening on Friday, when I had the honour of being invited to meet E. M. Forster, the novelist who was over to unveil a tablet to a local writer. He was very pleasant, but I found it hard going to talk to him. I expect you have read his books – he is by elimination the “greatest English novelist” today. A toothy little aged Billy Bunter.
Today is not the kind of day you’d like! a dark sky, rain, very dreary. You would be having recourse first to the sherry, then to the damson gin, trying to decide which was the nicer, then back to sherry, trying to deshide … to … deshide …1
But I have enough to do to fill three Sundays! O my! I had better go & start doing some of it.
Yes. I did enjoy my stay, & how lovely that walk was. We’ll go again. And I even enjoyed doing the garden.
Love of a special good sort,
Philip
1 Philip had left a bottle of sherry after his last visit. Eva wrote on 21 October: ‘I have not had my glass of sherry yet to-day. Of course it won’t last long if I have it daily.’
19 October 1952
30 Elmwood Avenue, Belfast
My dear old creature,
[…] The Strangs are back & have been hunting for a flat, complicated by Patsy’s having picked up some germ – possibly by drinking tapwater on the boat, she says, so remember never to do that!
I am not doing very well with my pools! Yesterday the line I had calculated carefully scored 13 out of 24, & the line I had just dashed in made 14. In Vernons, I only do the Treble Chance pool. This consists of putting an “0” against 8 matches in the first column for 6d or 1/- or whatever you like to stake. What you are trying to do is forecast 8 draws. If you succeed you score 24 pts. Needless to say the odds against are astronomical. You then copy your forecast onto the check list, which you keep. However, somebody has to win! Perhaps it would be wiser to do a few other combinations – or even to save my money.
I am glad you have your circle of cronies in Loughborough. It makes all the difference if you can knock on a door & know you will be welcomed.
Today I have a piece of best steak to try conclusions with, so I think I had better go and put the potatoes on.
Later. – Yes, all over now: a creature filled with steak & potatoes, positively gorged. I’ll certainly try your way of roasting things: I think perhaps I overcook my pieces of meat. – Not this one though.
A sombre brown afternoon has succeeded a sombre brown morning, & the wind & rain are as powerful as ever. Really I should like to go out but I doubt if my shoes are sufficiently waterproof. Wouldn’t it be nice to be walking along that road you showed me between the plantations of trees moaning & whispering like the sea? Do you remember the acorns? & the one crimson toadstool? How very beautiful autumn is.1
Ellen Wilson has had a daughter. There is really very little news this week otherwise: 3.15 on Sunday & all still to be done – laundry & bed changing & dusting & so on. I do hope you are keeping on with the sherry. Don’t forget that 1 glass wd probably bring you to normal, as you are no doubt screwed up a few points above normal as a rule.
My very best love, old creature,
Philip
1 Eva replied on 21 October: ‘As I always do, I again enjoyed your meditations upon Autumn. I am so glad you really liked that walk along to the forest. I should have enjoyed it more had I not been haunted by the fear of those cows! I expect you will laugh, but I have already been wondering where I could go next spring and summer so that I need not be so worried over the storms. I’m certain it’s no good my being here alone.’
24 October 1952
Postcard
[30 Elmwood Avenue, Belfast]
26 October 1952
30 Elmwood Ave, Belfast
My dear old creature,
[…] Well! Your letter arrived on Saturday morning – obviously it had gone astray, for it bore a Belfast postmark (4.45 p.m. Friday) as well as the L’boro one: the address was quite in order. I wonder where it had been? Then by lunchtime your pretty telegram arrived – how kind of you to send a greetings one!1 It was the autumn one of harvesters and fruits of the earth. I expect you felt sorry for the poor creature peering under the mat: it wasn’t all that worried, since I know you’d let me have some word even if you were in bed. As it happened Thursday was my party day – the Graneeks & the Grahams came in the evening, & Patsy, Colin having gone to Dublin to a meeting. I rather recklessly gave them hot frankfurter sausages to start with, with half bridge rolls & mustard, so that they could make their own hot dogs. I thought this would be a very good idea for a cold-night party, with beer, for less delicate company, but was afraid it might be too crude for an evening with ladies (not to mention the fact that the Graneeks are, of course, Jews), but damn me, when I got back from putting [on] a second lot of coffee the dish was empty! Of course, they are expensive – over 5d apiece. I also bought some Gentleman’s Relish – Patum Peperium2 – very old world, reeking of bachelor quarters, Oxford, Inns of Courts, tea in the gun-room, and all the lovely life of the 19th century.
“Creature’s relish”
I can see I shan’t have to waste time drawing if I’m to answer yo
ur letter properly. Thanks for the pools cutting – I’d like to see them always – yes, I do send up my efforts, but I see that it is extremely unlikely that I shd ever win anything. You enclose a P.O. for last week always, & listen to the results on Saturday on the Light Prog. at 5.30 p.m. I can’t score more than 14 points in the Treble Chance out of 24!3 […]
It doesn’t matter if you finish up the sherry: you buy another bottle then. Are you keeping count of the glasses you take from it?4
You are not such a very old creature! I wish you were here today to take advantage of the lovely sunshine – I’m angry that I can’t get out myself. If only Sunday were 48 hrs long! There’s far too much to do in one day. The weather is mild & gentle here – no frost yet at all, hardly.
With my most affectionate thoughts, & best-quality love,
Philip
1 On 25 October Eva had sent Philip a colourful greetings telegram: ‘HOPE YOU HAVE LETTER NOW AM QUITE WELL MUCH LOVE = MOTHER + +’
2 Anchovy relish.
3 On 28 October Eva wrote: ‘Hurry up, Creature, and win that £75,000! I hope you aren’t spending much on them. I don’t think I shall ever be able to fill one up myself. Perhaps when you come again you will help me to have a flutter.’
4 Eva wrote (28 October): ‘Regarding the sherry. I have had 9 glasses, including the two we had when you were here last. The bottle is now rather more than half empty.’
28 November 1952