Philip Larkin
Page 33
3 Ecclesiastes 1:2.
4 That Uncertain Feeling (Victor Gollancz, 1955).
17 October 1955
My very dearest Old Creature,
What a silly “performance” I made before I left. I do feel ashamed of myself. You wd hardly credit how miserable I feel at the time, though – like a limpet in process of being torn off a rock – that might explain in some measure my behaviour, though not excuse it.1 Of course I shall always visit you for the delight of seeing you2 and hearing of your doings: I was sorry we could not go out together yesterday, but I felt you wd benefit more from a rest after lunch, as I think you did.
I dozed much of the way back, lying full length in an empty nonsmoker for the last stretch. On arrival I bought bacon, cheese & coffee & came up to the University. Nothing had happened.
It’s very windy, clear & cold up here.
I feel bitterly ashamed of leaving my breakfast – if it were here I wd eat it 10 times over. It is just that at the time I get into such a state I cannot eat or think clearly or behave properly. Really, it is not easy to leave home with equanimity when I know what I am coming back to, not that it’s very terrible I suppose. You were goldenly good to me and I am very grateful – but I am now retreating under the table where I shall stay till I hear from you.
With very best love:
Philip
1 Eva responded on 18 October: ‘I am so sorry you feel as you do over Monday morning’s “performance”, as you call it and I do sympathise with you very much indeed, and I am sure there is no need for you to flay yourself, and I hope you have by this come out from under the table. What a pathetic little sketch. I feel sad when I look at it.’
2 Doubly underlined.
30 October 1955
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorks.
My very dear old creature,
Well, the dreaded day of the 29th is over, and I’m grateful for that anyway. It went off fairly well. I had to give my little talk, realising as I did so that three people who had been turned down for my job were listening. I think I don’t stammer in public so much now: but I find it hard to think clearly & speak sufficiently impressively. The visitors (who were mostly from Leeds) seemed to enjoy looking at the exhibition we had laid out of addresses from other universities on the occasion of our installation of our Chancellor in July. Just as well we had them, because we have nothing else.1
My pools yesterday were about the best I have ever done – one line was 12, which of course isn’t exceptional, but the other was 20! Another point & I’d have won something! All through chance as well: I never know anything about the teams. Of course if I had won anything it wouldn’t have been more than about £2∙3∙4d, I expect. Not enough to STOP WORK.
Since I wrote last Sunday George Hartley has re-entered my life, and at a meeting on Thursday we settled the business of the contract, not exactly to the satisfaction of both parties, but I am happier about it than I was. The book is binding at present, and should I hope be out before too long – perhaps by the middle of November. I think it will be very successful in a small way, and am looking forward to it greatly. […]
Tonight I am going to a jazz concert at the Town Hall, featuring Humphrey Lyttelton the trumpeter – this was the sort of “carrot” I instituted to get me past yesterday. I do hope it will be good. Recent jazz concerts I’ve attended have been something of a disappointment. The last time I heard H. L. in the flesh was in a hall in London with Ruth in 1947! I expect he’s improved since then.
I had the pleasure of finding the cheque the laundry sent me for that shirt they lost. I thought I’d lost the cheque! It was only 30/- but still.
Now I must dress & so on. I might come home next week end – wd it be suitable? I want to discuss a few things with Barker at Leicester.
Very best love from Philip
Greetings! old creature. Here is a magazine containing a poem about an incident you’ll recognise. Of course I don’t mean my room is unsatisfactory really except in so far as it really isn’t my permanent room.2
I hope you are feeling better today and more chirpy. Can’t say I am! Oh, those awful librarians. […]
Best love, old creature.
Creature
1 Larkin had addressed a visiting group of librarians from other universities.
2 He had enclosed Listen 1.4 (Autumn 1955), which included ‘Reference Back’. Eva replied on 1 November: ‘Just fancy you writing a poem about something I said when you were here. How very nice of you. I like the poem, too, very much.’
25 November 1955
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorks.
My very dear old creature,
Yes, they have misspelt Dr. Marshall’s name – isn’t it annoying?1 I have written apologising, but had no answer so far. I think it’s quite a nice book, but I’ve found one silly error that is my fault. […]
I expect Kitty thinks I ought to write a poem for Rosemary!2
Today I had a letter from a publisher3 saying they liked my poem in the Spectator this week & would I like to submit a collection? I grind my teeth.
The weather is very nice here – I am going to a hellish ball tonight, all clobbered up. I fill my life with distractions to prevent myself thinking.
On Sunday I will write at more length, but do be sure that I am thinking of you constantly & hoping that you aren’t worrying yourself sick, like a silly old pussy, because there’s NO NEED. You are as nice a pussy as ever trod.
Love, P.
1 In the list of subscribers to The Less Deceived the name had appeared as ‘A. H. Marhall’.
2 On 23 November Eva wrote: ‘Thank you very much for the lovely book of poems. I see there are one or two new ones in it and also my old favourite “At Grass”. I particularly like the first poem [‘Lines on a Young Lady’s Photograph Album’] and think it very good, also the one for Sally Amis. / What a long list of subscribers! Haven’t they misspelt Dr Marshall’s name? Kitty will be very pleased to get hers. / I am very sorry indeed to know the sad news of Mrs Squire.’ Philip’s landlady had died.
3 Charles Monteith at Faber & Faber.
4 December 19551
53 York Road, Loughborough
Don’t answer if
you feel you can’t
My very dear old creature,
As I’m in the habit of writing on Sunday morning, I thought I’d keep it up, though of course there’s not a great deal to say after seeing you so recently. First of all, don’t worry about the Medical Card. Kitty says she had it from you and handed it in to the hospital yesterday. So that’s one less thing to worry about.
I went off with the rest of the visitors – a motley crew – and called in on Monica who asked about you & if you’d liked the dormouse, & I said you had, & that you’d probably prefer being a dormouse at present, as they seem to have such quiet lives. We conspired to send you some “extras”, then you can pay back the people who have been kind to you. I’m glad there are some.
I felt very sorry you are finding the hospital so bewildering and un-private. I can quite sympathise with you. No doubt the idea is that the company of others (however quaint the others are) is meant to draw you out of the prison of misery you find yourself in, but for my part if I didn’t want the company of such people when well I shouldn’t want them when ill. However, I do hope you can manage to cotton on to one or two of them, since that is the way salvation lies.
I rang Dr. Folwell up this morning, because I thought she “deserved” to know the latest news about you after all her kindness.2 She sounded very concerned, and repeatedly said how sorry she was. When I asked if I shd send you her best wishes, she said “Give her my LOVE” very emphatically. She also said she would send details of a small private hospital outside Nottingham for us to look at. In closing she insisted that you had taken the best
step towards getting better.
Have you had any more to do with the old creature in blue? I thought she looked sympathetic, but of course you can form your own idea about that.
I slept in “your” room at Kitty’s (temperature 50°!) & found it quite comfortable. I dreamed I had bought a big cream-coloured car and was whizzing about in it – no doubt caused by a remark of Walter’s that now was the time to buy a car. But I don’t think I shall.
Kitty says the laundry will be all right, since she can send it on Monday & receive it back on Friday. So DON’T WORRY. I am looking forward to seeing you again – now do eat plenty & keep up your strength.3
Very best love from Philip
1 Addressed to Carlton Hayes Hospital, Narborough, Leicester, which specialised in treating depression and nervous problems.
2 See footnote to Philip’s letter of 29 October 1950.
3 On 7 December, Eva wrote, on roughly torn paper: ‘This morning I had my first electrical treatment but beyond feeling a bit shaky and sick afterwards I felt nothing of it. […] I feel very proud to know that you are now recognised as a foremost English poet. How very pleased you will feel about it. / Like you I shall be glad when I am quite well again for the time passes very slowly here.’
16 December 19551
Librarian: P. A. Larkin, M.A., University Library, Hull
My dear old Creature,
I’ve just had word from your medical superintendent that you may have “leave of absence for Christmas” from 10 a.m. Dec. 24th to 6 p.m. Dec 28th. I should like you to think this over & let me know what you think about it tomorrow when I come to see you.2
Terribly rushed!
All love,
Philip
1 This letter and the next are addressed to Carlton Hayes Hospital, Narborough, Leicester.
2 On the same day, 16 December, Eva wrote, on small sheet of wide-spaced lined paper: ‘I wonder where you will be at Christmas? I fancy most of the people here will go home and I don’t quite know what to do. I do hope you will find a Christmas dinner somewhere and enjoy yourself. […] / This scrappy notepaper I got from the canteen. It is the largest they have.’
20 December 1955
Postcard
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorks.
My dear old creature,
I expect this will hardly reach you before I call on you on Saturday morning, but I’ve just had your nice letter thanking me for the carrier. Not at all, old creature: you are very welcome!
I am looking forward to our time together at Grantham.1 You will enjoy a trip into the outside world, and I shall be all the happier to be with you at this time of year. I’ve only once been to the Angel at Grantham, but it’s a nice place & should be cosy.
The weather is simply frightful here – snowy, frosty, & the most terrible slush underfoot. I find it hard to keep warm in my rooms, but I have three different sorts of heater & am managing to keep alive, though not very cheerfully. Nowhere is really warm in weather like this: what is the hospital like? Pretty dreary, I expect.
Now remember I am calling for you on Saturday morning (if all goes well), bringing with me the blue case, & we’ll call at Loughborough first before going on to Grantham so that you can collect a few more clothes.
Dear Creature! Happy Christmas, Creature! Philip
1 Philip had booked Eva and himself into the Angel Hotel in Grantham over Christmas, with an excursion on Christmas Day to a hotel in Melton Mowbray where Kitty had booked a family Christmas dinner.
1956
8 January 19561
21 York Road, Loughborough, Leics.
My dear Old Creature,
Just a note to say I got to Kitty’s all right, & had a good night’s sleep in a warm bed, so feel refreshed. I’m afraid when I visited you I was very dull and tired: but it was very nice to see you, and I certainly think the Woodlands is a nicer place for you to be than the hospital.2
Kitty seems more cheerful this time than the last, & my bedding was actually airing when I arrived! She says the agreement is for you to “come out” on January 21st – a fortnight yesterday, in fact. I suppose I shall fetch you in the afternoon & stay the weekend at 21 York Rd.3
I wonder if you’ve heard the owl yet? “Alone & warming his five wits The white owl in the belfry sits”.4
When I get back to Hull I expect I shall find your letter waiting my return. Let me take this opportunity of wishing you a happy New Year – happier than last, at least! I expect the snow drops will be out soon at the Woodlands. I hope you’ll get rid of your cold promptly & be a fine fit old creature when I next see you. All love, Philip
1 This and the next three letters are addressed to The Woodlands, Forest Road, Narborough.
2 On 31 December 1955 Eva had written: ‘You will be surprised to see my new address and I, too, was surprised when I was sent here yesterday very quickly. / I saw the Psychiatrist yesterday and she said that my treatment was finished but that she thought I should benefit by a little while here. “The Woodlands” is a lovely, large house in the country standing in large grounds. / There are about 12 people here and it is more like staying at a private house than a hospital.’
3 On 5 January Eva had written from The Woodlands: ‘The fancy dress ball went off well and some of the characters were marvellous. They included “Alice”, the white rabbit, the mad hatter and Old Mother Riley who made us all laugh. I am quite happy here, and we are all sitting round a lovely fire. / Yes, I too, enjoyed our stay at Grantham.’
4 ‘The Owl’, Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
11 January 1956
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorks.
My dear old creature,
What a disappointment that we couldn’t hear properly yesterday! At least, I could hear you fairly well, but I could tell you couldn’t hear me. Anyway, I was glad you had had a proper birthday, with a special tea & flowers & a telegram.
I hadn’t really much news: I’m frightfully busy at present with all sorts of work – I never remember being so busy before. All library work, I need hardly add. I heard from Hartley today that my book is in demand & that the first 300 have nearly gone. He is having another 400 bound. I don’t expect you’ll be able to hear a poem of mine read on Sunday night on the 3rd Progr. by John Wain – I don’t know what time the programme is until the Radio Times comes out. It is Church Going, the long one.
Weather here has been very snowy & cold. My cough has pretty well gone: how is your cold? Cleared up, I hope.
A new Vice Chancellor has been appointed here: just the man I didn’t want!1 Oh dear. The future looks stormy.
I’ll be thinking of you on Saturday, even if I don’t see you. Have you been out again yet?
Very much love,
Philip
1 Brynmor Jones, later Sir Brynmor Jones, after whom Larkin’s library was named, at the poet’s suggestion, in 1967. He had taught in the chemistry department in Hull since the 1930s.
15 January 19561
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorks.
My dear old creature,
[…] The biggest news this week is something that won’t really interest you much, but is of enormous importance to me – namely, that a new Vice Chancellor has been appointed here. The VC, as you may know, is the “headmaster” of a university and it’s an extremely important office. I’m sorry to say that they have appointed one of the existing professors, a man I find it hard to get on with and whom I dislike & think no good. So the future here looks rather black! It’s really a serious setback & I still can’t imagine how they could have been so foolish. […]
Goodbye for now & much love, Philip
1 Addressed to The Woodlands, Forest Road, Narborough. Eva had caught cold and her discharge was delayed until Saturday 28 January.
25 January 1956
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorkshire
My dear old creature,
I am sitting, rather chilly, in my room – sno
w outside, as you say, but it’s been lying since Monday & is easy enough to get about. Thanks for your letter: I expect the weekend was rather lonely. Still, you would have the pussy!
There’s not much news here except more & more work for yours truly – God knows how I shall ever get through the next few years, building this new library. A sad life for an unambitious creature!
Had a terrible scare this week: thought I was going to be forced to read some of my poems on the wireless, but managed to get out of it. The one about you saying “that was a pretty one” is being broadcast early in February – you never thought, when you said it, that you’d be repeated over the BBC, did you?
I hope the weather’s fine on Saturday. I’ll arrive as near two p.m. as I can. Try to be ready to leave without delay! It’ll be a dreary journey back, but a happy homecoming.1
All creaturely love,
Creature
1 On 28 January Philip took Eva back to York Road before retuning to Hull by train on 29 or 30 January.
5 February 1956
200 Hallgate, Cottingham, E. Yorkshire
My dear old creature,
[…] I was interested to hear that you had seen Dr Morton, & that he had been sympathetic. Glad you have some more tablets! I myself went to my Doctr on Thursday about my stomach, wch has not been any better, and he prescribed some medicine. He has also arranged an x-ray for me next Thursday at hospital – I rather dread this, as it means much tiresome feeding or non-feeding, and eating a “barium meal”, a revolting (by all accounts) mess which is designed to show up on the x-ray – but things are bad enough to send me there of my own accord. I hope it isn’t an ulcer. […]