Much love, dear old creature, & I’m sorry for my awful temper.
Philip.
1 Nellie was ill, and Eva had irritated Philip by speculating on hypothetical arrangements for travelling to her funeral.
2 On 9 January Eva wrote: ‘About the Parkray. It was so bright and fierce last night when I wanted to make it up for the night that I thought I’d better not to. My peace of mind was better than having a fire in when I came down in the morning.’ On 13 January she agreed to Philip’s suggestion that he write to the NCB: ‘Mr Brooks has sent in his bill again this morning. I really do not want to keep the Parkray. It is too much work and worry for me. You may write and tell him so if you will please.’ On 14 January Philip offered to take a day off ‘to be with you & see further people representing kinds of fire or heating’.
3 Thursday 11 January.
21 January 1968
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
I am writing in my bedroom as usual. Week succeeds week, & nothing alters, not that I want anything to alter. When I met the new young man below moving in, & he said “I shall be here only till August”, I replied “I’ve been here since 1956” – at wch he stared.
After talking to you on the telephone last night I had supper & did the stew. I find it difficult to know how much water to put in. If you don’t cover it the top gets dry. It is doing away now, and I hope will be ready for lunch. Last Sunday the potatoes were only just done.
I am sorry the fire is such a nuisance. Regarding electricity, all one can do is ask the local branch of the Electricity Board what they can offer. Personally, I think gas is more reliable – there aren’t many gas cuts! And gas fires don’t go wrong like electrical ones. However, you must please yourself. Would you like me to see if I could come home to see the E Board with you, or for you?
As regards cost, well, as I say I am willing to pay your bills on condition I can reclaim from the estate. I don’t see why Kitty shd think this mean. You have plenty of money, but don’t want to spend it, as you live on the interest. If I pay your bills I am lending you money, interest-free. When I get it back it will be worth much less than it is now. The arrangement wd be through a solicitor, & I shd pay him too. I am offering you a chance to be warm now & pay later – much later!
Anyway, think it over. I wish I had time to see about my flat – the howling draught from the windows, the need for more shelves, cupboards, etc. Perhaps people fuss about houses too much. We are here so short a time, it hardly seems worth bothering.1
This is a grey but reasonably mild day. When I have had lunch I shall go to the Library, Do you know there’s a new Al Read2 programme on Sunday at 2 p.m.? I expect it is repeated later in the week: yes, Wednesday evening, It’s mostly the old stuff. The dog sketch reminds me of Zimba (“Lie down!” “Woof!” “Lie down!!” “Woof!!” etc).
Did I tell you that we had a madman in the Library last week? He was a young man who spoke very wildly – he first appeared in the evening when only the evening staff were there, but then he came back next day and I had to see him! He was very well-dressed and had an E-type Jaguar! The medical officer sent him to the local mental home in the end.
I thought your letter was remarkable, so long and clearly written & small yet legible in script. Splendid old creature. I really haven’t a lot of news. Day succeeds day as always. Tomorrow is a library committee, wch always means a lot of work & worry & nervous strain. Do take care of yourself, old creature & try to get to bed early.
Much love xx Philip.
1 Eva’s letters at this time are crammed with anxieties about whether the house would be saleable without a fire in the kitchen, whether she could afford another storage heater, whether she should have a telephone extension in her bedroom, etc.
2 Al Read (1909–87). Very popular British radio comedian of the 1950s and 1960s.
28 January 1968
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
My handwriting looks a bit shaky, doesn’t it? No reason why it should. Isn’t the weather beautiful: a fine, mild, spring-like day. Perhaps there are some signs of spring, if one looks for them. It might be worth looking in the garden.
I really don’t know what I can tell you about: I duly went to Leeds on Friday, and had lunch with this poet Geoffrey Hill1 in a colourful pub called Whitelock’s – he had a plate of cold roast beef that looked very good, but my chops weren’t so good. They gave me 10/- short in my change, too. Aawgh! However, it wasn’t too bad. He struck me as rather a dismal Jimmy. He teaches at Leeds University.
We then went to Leeds University & I left him to take the chair at a library group meeting – in the course of it I got out of being chairman, wch I have been for about 4 years, so that was good. My hearing aid wasn’t much good. There was a man at my left elbow who roared like a sea lion, & a group of whisperers at the end of the table. However, I got through it somehow.
This week will have its busy side. The Poet Laureate is coming up again & I shall have to take the chair at his lecture, a thing I don’t much like doing, but still. He’s going to talk about Yeats. Then on Thursday evening there is a dinner for the Vice Chancellor to celebrate his knighthood – means dressing for it, too. On Friday morning at 11.30 a.m. there is a “topping-out” ceremony, to mark the completion of the shell of the new building, followed by a lunch. Then what is left of me goes to a coffee evening at Maeve’s on Saturday, & drives home on Sunday. All very taxing. I found the Library Committee a great strain, though they were all perfectly pleasant, and I got most of what I wanted, but the nervous strain is fearful, I just fell asleep in my chair after it.
I hope you’ll listen to Al Read today. I shall.
The Debonair fire sounds much too powerful for your little kitchen, wch would be about 1,000 cubic feet, wouldn’t it?2 We must be absolutely sure that you get something you like this time. I still feel an electric fire wd be more likely to go wrong than a gas one, & of course there might be powercuts. But as I say you must get something you are really happy with.
I was glad to hear that Miss Langton had called on you. It would be nice if you had a few friends near at hand, who could be visited without long walks or taxi rides. With Miss Langton you could talk about your houses, as they’re both much the same,
The bill for my hearing aid has come in again – £59. It’s about as much use as the Parkray. Funny it should cost the same.
I wish I could find something new to read – I went through Rebecca3 again & loved it, finding it very exciting. I never seem to have time to go to the Library in town, and there isn’t much there when I do! Well, dear old creature, I shall be seeing you soon. I wonder if K & W are enjoying The Spectator. I can never get it here. Have early nights & easy days.
Much love Philip.
1 The poet Geoffrey Hill (1932–2016) taught in Leeds University from 1954 to 1980.
2 On 22 January Eva had written: ‘Whilst looking for something else just now / I came upon a leaflet relating to the gas fire that Miss Unwin recommended, Debonair, but it is Debonair Major for the larger room, and will heat a large room of 2,500 cubic feet capacity. Weight 60 lbs (27 kg). I don’t know what that means.’
3 The 1938 novel by Daphne du Maurier (1907–89).
18 February 19681
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
[…] Rosemary’s hyacinths are continuing to entertain me. The one that didn’t flower seemed to break in half, and one half flowered & the other didn’t. Now the bit that didn’t flower is showing signs of life! I really ought to write & tell her.2 One letter I did write was to a firm from wch 5 years ago I bought 6 pairs of socks. They are just now going into holes, & I wonder if I can get any more. They have done well, haven’t they?
I haven’t heard yet from Mr Brooks.3 […]
I must start to write to Monica now.
Much love from Philip
1 Larkin wrote ‘(Sunday a
nyway)’ after the date; 18 February 1968 was indeed a Sunday.
2 Rosemary had given Larkin a bowl of hyacinths for Christmas, and he had written a ceremonious letter of thanks. On 19 March he wrote again: ‘I thought you would like to know that your hyacinths did well. One, the blue, came out quickly. Then a second began to show signs of life, & was white. The third didn’t stir at all, & I thought it was dead, but in the end it astonished me by splitting in two, and producing two separate yellow blooms. This pleased me no end. / The blooms smelt delightful & made my room much fresher than it usually is.’
3 After two formal letters from Larkin, copied to the National Coal Board, Heat Advisory Service, Brooks submitted a revised invoice, and Philip replied with a typed letter dated 1 March: ‘My impression was that when we discussed this fire with your representative the cost given was below £40. The Supervisor of Buildings in this University tells me that the cost price to an ordinary customer for a Parkray 66 KF and smoke pipe is £36.10-. […] I should be grateful to have your observations on his comment at your convenience.’
31 March 1968
London
My very dear old creature,
I’m just taking the chance to write you a page after breakfast at Bob’s.1 It’s a beautiful fine morning and I should like to be out in it. However, my host shows no great desire to do so and I don’t want to be a nuisance. […]
I return to Hull this afternoon or evening rather, & shall perhaps ring up.
We saw Kingsley last night. He has a beard! He has just come back from America. You’ll probably see that he has written another James Bond book – this will make him even richer than before.2
Well, I won’t attempt a second page, but I wanted to send my love & tell you where I was.
Your affec. Creature
1 The envelope is postmarked Battersea, where Robert Conquest lived at this time.
2 Colonel Sun, published by Amis under the pseudonym ‘Robert Markham’ (Jonathan Cape, 1968).
7 April 1968
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
[…] The news from America is bad, isn’t it.1 Aren’t you glad you don’t live there? I shouldn’t like a crowd of Negroes roaming around Pearson Park, or Loughborough.
This has been a disagreeable week in many ways, ending with my having to chair an all-day Conference on South-East Asian Studies library provision on Friday. It went off all right: there were representatives from the School of Oriental & African Studies, British Museum, National Lending Library, and one or two Dutch places. We had lunch, On the whole I find the prospect of working for the next 20 years & then dying rather depressing! It isn’t really what I wanted to do.
Your letter was very interesting & beautifully written as usual, and I’m glad to hear the lumbago is subsiding. […]
Love as ever P.
1 Riots had followed the assassination of Martin Luther King on 4 April 1968.
9 May 1968
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
This is just to say I am back safely on a very wet evening after my London trip, and was pleased to find your letter. London was rather tiring – wet underfoot, & very hot – but I am still in one piece.
While I was there I delivered in person to No. 10 Downing Street a refusal of the O.B.E.! I was offered it a few days ago, but felt I must turn it down. Still, I thought you’d be glad to know your creature has been offered it. There was no need for me to deliver my reply personally, of course, but I happened to be passing, having been to the House of Commons. I don’t think you shd tell anyone – K & W, perhaps, but not the Hyde people. Not even Rosemary – I don’t want it known in Universities.1
I was tormented by a shirt with a fearfully tight collar. It has left quite a weal. Awgh! I think these Marks & Spencers shirts shrink. It’s supposed to be 16.2
Well, dear old creature, more on Sunday. Keep smiling.
Much love P.
1 On 12 May Eva wrote: ‘I wonder if it was awarded for all the work you have done regarding the two extentions [sic] to the Library? Of course it didn’t come exactly as a surprise to me for I always thought you would be honoured in some way. […] Do you think you have been commended because of your poems?’ See Geoff Weston, ‘O.B.E. – Shove it’, About Larkin 41 (April 2016), 6.
2 Sixteen-inch collar size.
23 June 1968
Durrants Hotel, London
My very dear old creature,
Well! Not a very successful visit. No play after lunch on Thursday, & hardly any play at all yesterday: it was depressing, just hanging about the ground watching the rain fall. It isn’t so much the waste of money one minds as the tedious waste of time – & it’s so depressing, doing nothing. Worst of all, we had to wait about half an hour in the rain for a bus! Spirits were very low: mine were, anyway.
They are not too bright this morning, either: there is something about breakfast at this hotel that puts one’s back up. It is intensely mean: one has positively to extort food out of them, & then it comes in tiny amounts – one pat of butter, a spoonful of honey in a saucer, the remains of somebody else’s milk. Year after year it’s the same. God knows what the Americans think of it.
Then there is the worry of these idle swine of railway-men. I hope I get back to Hull tomorrow night all right.1 Awgh! I am starting to feel tired of being away. The continual brush with people exhausts me. I should prefer to be back in the silence of my flat.
I’m interested to hear you have been allocated a ‘home help’. I do hope she turns out successfully – I believe Hilary Amis worked as a home help in her v. young days, & though I’m sure she meant well I can’t imagine she was much use.
I don’t imagine Rosemary will not get a degree, but it still seems rather vague. I expect it will be a fearful ‘family’ day, ending with humps all round! Why are they holding it in the Cathedral? It’s not a religious ceremony. Grrrr. I’m not sure if you are expecting me to come on 3 August for a week: let me know some time. The pieces of cardboard can, I think, be thrown away.2 I hope you managed to dispose of some of the rubbish in the store room!
You’ll feel very luxurious setting off in a motor to Gt Yarmouth!3
I wish I could come & see you. Perhaps nearer the time we could see. It’s a freakish idea, though.
Today M. & I are going to lunch with the Day Lewises, out at Greenwich. I don’t know whether to take my hearing aid or not! He tends to mumble, & of course there are children … M. is not greatly looking forward to it. I don’t expect it’ll be highly enjoyable, but D. L. is a genuinely friendly soul. Well, this is rather a bitty letter, but I mean well. Very much love, old creature. Have you had any strawberries yet?
Philip
1 On 24 June the National Union of Railwaymen rejected a pay and productivity offer from British Rail and began a ‘work-to-rule’ which lasted twelve days. The details of Philip’s return journey are not recorded.
2 On 17 June Eva wrote: ‘To-day I have been very busy and have sorted out all the things from the store room which were in the corner in the front bedroom upstairs. It was a job and I have wrapped most of the things up and labelled them before putting them back in the store room. Have thrown a few oddments away! / I found a box containing squares of cardboard really belonging to you. I think they are used to pack up records. Shall I throw them away or do you want them?’
3 Eva and Nellie stayed in the Windsor Hotel, Great Yarmouth, for a fortnight from 21 July.
30 June 1968
Hull
My very dear old creature,
I am sitting on the ground with my back against the car out of doors somewhere beyond Cottingham. It is such a lovely day that I felt I must get out to write my letters. The lane I am sitting beside is not very busy, but I expect everyone will be out as the day wears on. I’m looking over a field of green stuff – barley perhaps – that ripples almost like water. The sun is extremely hot.
Unfortunately I have le
ft your letter behind! Awgh! I picked up two, but neither was yours. Very silly of me. I will look at it when I get back & see whether I have forgotten to answer anything. […]
I have heard from the Leicester Elec. Bd. that they are willing to put in another immersion heater in your boiler at the bottom for nothing,1 and connect the off peak connection to it. They will leave the present one in, dead, to save trouble. They are still doubtful if this will give full satisfaction, but they are prepared to do it. I take it you are agreeable? It will mean workmen coming, but not for long.
It really is a lovely day, hayfever or no hayfever. The country falls away before me very green & sparkling. Beside me the high nameless grasses are waving. I’ve had to take my jacket off, it’s so hot.
On Thursday I’m taking my car in for a complete overhaul – they want it at 8 a.m.! Awgh!! They’ll be lucky! Then Friday is my ordeal.2
Much love, old creature. P.
1 The correspondence reveals a long wrangle about Eva’s newly installed immersion heater which heated only 4 ⁄5 of the tank.
2 A dental appointment.
1 August 1968
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
This is just to wish you a safe and enjoyable journey,1 & to say there’ll be a letter – small one – waiting among ALL THE BILLS at the other end.
Much love
Philip
1 Letter addressed to Windsor Hotel, Wellesley Road, Great Yarmouth, Norfolk. Eva was about to return home from the Yarmouth holiday with Nellie.
1 August 19681
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
Found it? I have just looked out & seen a half moon – is this waxing, or waning? Everything looks very peaceful.
Philip Larkin Page 51