Selected Letters of William Styron
Page 3
Alan Pakula’s movie of Sophie’s Choice is released.
1985 Begins to suffer from clinical depression and considers plans for suicide. Admitted to Yale–New Haven Hospital on December 14. Receives treatment and medication and makes a steady improvement.
1986–90 Speaks about depression at two events in 1989. Meets Vanity Fair editor Tina Brown who offers to publish his account.
1990 Publishes Darkness Visible.
1990–2000 Speaks frequently on depression to groups of physicians and therapists.
1993 Publishes A Tidewater Morning: Three Tales from Youth.
2000–2005 Styron’s final years are unproductive, as the results of depression affect his narrative ability. Cancer is discovered.
2006–07 Hospitalized for much of the last year and a half of his life, Styron dies in Martha’s Vineyard Hospital on November 1, 2006, and his ashes are buried on the Vineyard.
A memorial service in his honor is held on February 2, 2007, at St. Bartholomew’s Church, New York City.
Styron reported to Duke University in June 1943 for summer school and military training. He was assigned to the V-12 Navy College Training Program for officer candidates, which ran university classes on an accelerated schedule.
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
September 15, 1943 Duke University
Dear Pop,
Well, it’s been a while since I last wrote you, but things have been just about the same around here. My grades, with the exception of Physics, are pretty good. Physics has thrown me and the rest of the Marines for a loop. To show you how hard the last test was: the average grade in the whole class of about 700 was 38; I got a 21. History, still about B; Polit., up to a B; French up to a C; English still a B; and Psychology still a B. Which all in all isn’t so very bad.
Right now I am writing my chef d’oeuvre in English. It’s a short story about a woman evangelist in the deep South who is jilted in love. The theme of the Song of Solomon runs throughout. If it’s good enough, I might try to get it published somewhere—as the editors of most magazines need material badly. One of my stories is being considered for publication in the Archive, the Duke literary magazine. If it’s accepted, I’ll send a copy to you.*
We’re studying boxing, wrestling and jiu-jitsu. They’re all very educational—especially jiu-jitsu. My partner is the son of a Marine officer who was stationed in Japan before the war—just my luck! I am continually being thrown on my can.
Still getting up at six o’clock for exercise. The “cadet” system is still in effect. They rotate officers, and any day now I expect to be made a platoon leader or something. Hope I don’t get nervous giving those “right and left flanks.” By the way, you can tell Eliza to have no fear of my oversleeping, as the early morning routine has now become pretty much of a habit.†
I still have hopes of getting home in October. I may bring Don Strotz, my roommate, but I’ll let you know later. In the meanwhile, I’ll content myself with occasional trips to Durham and dates with the newly arrived girls on East Campus.
Write soon and give my best to Eliza.
Your son,
Bill, Jr.
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
September 28, 1943 Duke University
Dear Pop,
I got your letter and enjoyed it very much. I’m glad you had such a fine time on your vacation. I know you and Eliza must have painted the town red. When at Davidson I saw “Arsenic and Old Lace” and if the New York production was as good as the Davidson one (I doubt if it could equal the Wildcat Dramatic Society), you all must have been rolling in the aisles. It certainly was funny. I heard that “Watch on the Rhine” was excellent, but I suppose it’ll be a long time before it gets to Durham.‡
I told all the guys about your unique toast to all the states in the Union. They said we’ll have to try the same toast before Durham runs out of beer.
So far Duke has played two games and won two. We have scored 101 points, beating Camp Lejeune 40–0 and U. of Richmond 61–0. Pretty good, eh?
Lately I’ve been reading a lot—mostly Thomas Wolfe.§ I think he’s the greatest writer of our time. I read “Of Time and the River” and “Look Homeward, Angel” and am starting on “The Web and the Rock.” Did you know that Tom Wolfe worked in Newport News during the last war? He speaks of the old home town, not too complimentary, in a couple of his books. He even worked in the Shipyard for five minutes, but was kicked out because he knew too little about carpentry—even for a Carolinian. He was born in Asheville and went to U.N.C. In his novels, the saga of Eugene Gant (which is really an autobiography), he speaks of the University at “Pulpit Hill,” the sprawling Tobacco Town of “Exeter” (Durham), and Sydney (Raleigh).
I got a letter from Aunt Edith and she sent me ten bucks. Also asked me to come and visit her on my furlough. Should I?
I certainly appreciate you and Eliza sending me the candy. It tasted good on those “hungry nights.”
Write soon, and give my love to Eliza.
Your son,
Bill, Jr.
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
November 23, 1943 Duke University
Dear Pop,
I’m sorry to be so late in writing you, but I’ve been reading a lot lately and I’d get so engrossed in a book, planning to write all the time, that when I had finished reading I’d have to go to bed and postpone the letter.
Things, as usual, are about the same. I’m making out all right in my studies, nothing spectacular, but about par. So far we haven’t had any quizzes, so I can’t evaluate my grades.
I’ve been reading some good books—Hemingway, Wolfe, Faulkner, Dos Passos and short stories by Balzac, Thurber, de Maupassant, Joyce, Poe, and others. “U.S.A.” by John Dos Passos, while rather long, is especially good. It’s the writer’s attempt, through fiction, to portray America and its people. Mentions Newport News and Norfolk, and the Northern Neck—to quote: “… you’d ride slowly home hating the goddam exhausted land and the drought that wouldn’t let the garden grow and the katydids and the dryflies jeering out of the sapling gums and persimmons ghostly with dust along the road and the sickle-shaped beach where the sea nettles stung you when you tried to swim out and the chiggers and the little scraps of talk about what was going on up to the Hague or Warsaw or Pekatone and the phone down at the cottage that kept ringing whenever any farmer’s wife along the line took up the receiver to talk about things to any other farmer’s wife and all down the line you could hear the receivers click as they all ran to the receiver to listen to what was said.…”‖
Sounds just like the Northern Neck and Dolph Chowning.a Brings back old memories.—About that story I wrote I was telling you about: It’s scheduled to be published in the Christmas issue of the Archive.b The Editor said it would have won the prize in their short story contest, but I didn’t know anything about it (the contest), so I didn’t win. They were going to run another story of mine, entitled “Home Again,” but the MS. was lost, and I didn’t feel like doing it over. We get three days leave Xmas so I’ll see you then. Write soon and give my best to everyone.
Your son, Bill Jr.
P.S. I enjoy Mech. Drawing very much. Take after Pop, eh?!c
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
March 12, 1944 Duke University
Dear Pop,
I got your letter a few days ago, and I certainly enjoyed it. I was glad you enjoyed my story. Another one of my opuses (or operas, I think, is the plural) is going to appear in the April issue of the Archive. It is, appropriately enough to my faculty for picking primitive subjects, a story about a lynching, and the psychological effect of it on a young boy. The title is Delta Night.d
Dr. Blackburn, in his comment on the story said: “I take great pride in your progress this term. While I don’t usually urge undergraduates to make writing their livelihood, you are definitely one to be encouraged … you have grown … in both strength and wisdom. This story is the strongest you have done.”
My st
udies are coming along pretty well. We’ve had no tests as yet, so consequently I’ve gotten no grades. But I’m coming along.
We got paid this week, and I got $45. So I suppose I’m all set financially, for the time being anyhow. Incidentally, I was 45 minutes late coming back from furlough, so I was put on a week’s restriction, that is, no liberty at night, having to sign in at the N.C.O. “every hour on the hour.” That’s O.K., though; I won’t spend so much money.
Leon is now at Miami Beach, taking pre-flight training.e I hope he makes out O.K. But I think he will.
Last week-end, four of us went to Danville and had dates at Averett college. We came back Sunday night, starting out at 10:30 hitch-hiking. We got stuck in Yanceyville, N.C. for four hours, and we just barely made reveille at 6:30. I almost froze to death! What a detail!
Am now rooming with Art Katz of Memphis, and Claude Kirk of Montgomery, Ala.f Both are transfers from Emory, and they’re good guys.
Give my regards to Eliza. Write soon.
Your son,
Bill, Jr.
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
April 3, 1944 Duke University
Dear Pop,
Please excuse this stationery, but I’m writing this in Shakespeare class, which is a very boring class, so I reckon you’ll understand.
Last weekend John Carson, Chet Stull, and I went up to Danville and dated at Averett college. We had quite a time. I have been dating this girl Doreen Stanley from Queens Village, L.I. She’s 18 and very nice looking, intelligent, and her father is Sales Manager for National Distillers, Inc. (Old Grandad, Old Overholt, Wilson’s, Black & White, etc.)! In these days of liquor rationing it might not hurt to date the daughter of a whiskey magnate! No kidding, we had a fine time up there. Stayed at a tourist home for $1.00 and ate at the college, which made things very inexpensive.
While I was up at the school, the girls put on a Palm Sunday musical service. It was very good, and I noticed especially a choral piece for women’s voices entitled, “Look Homeward, Angel.” It was taken from a chapter of the book by Thomas Wolfe and the music was arranged by a gentleman by the name of William Schuman. It was beautiful, and I was very surprised. Specifically, the passage was the one which begins: “A stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces. Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother’s face, etc.” It ends beautifully like this: “O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary, unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?… O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.” Only the girls had to pervert the whole thought of the passage by inserting “O lamb of God” in the last line. That rather irritated me.g
The gym instructor really got rough with us this morning. We had hard calisthenics for forty minutes, which included push-ups, pull-ups, deep knee-bends. When we were all but completely exhausted, we had to climb a 30-foot vertical rope twice. But that wasn’t all. Then we had to work out on the parallel bars for ten minutes. I was pretty well pooped out when we finished. But, as they say, “That’s where they separate the men from the boys.” If you don’t completely pass out, I suppose you’re a man.
I got a letter from Leon saying that he is now a Qualified Air Cadet. That’s what he was aiming for, and he’s pretty happy about it. Right now he’s in the Base Hospital at Miami recovering from a cold. Nothing serious, he says.
I might have told you before, but I just finished reading Schopenhauer’s “Studies in Pessimism.” It’s not very long, and it’s very good, although I don’t agree with or understand many of his ideas. I’ve started on Kant’s Basic Thoughts, including “Critique of Pure Reason.” I fear that this boy Kant is just a little bit too profound for yours truly. I may, however, be able to struggle through it.
We get paid to-morrow, and I’m really going to need it. I owe about $15, which won’t leave me much from the $35, since we’ll probably be compelled this month to pay the $5 athletic fee. But, that’s the way it goes. “Always Broke” Styron, that’s me!
My second “Archive” story will be published this week. You said that you had entered a subscription, so it won’t be necessary for me to send you a copy. It’s not a bad story, but on the other hand it’s not as good a story as I set out to write. I suppose, though, that no story is exactly what the author intended to write.h
Is it okay if John Carson comes home with me on furlough? We don’t plan to stay home more than two or three days, since we have a big party scheduled up in Urbanna.i This is planning right far ahead, I know (furlough begins 17 June), but I just wanted to know if it meets with your approval. Carson’s father is a captain in the Navy and is commander of the U.S.S. Boston, probably based now at Kwajalein atoll. When Pearl Harbor came, he was operations officer for the southwest Pacific area, and sent the submarines and P.T. boats to Bataan to take off MacArthur and his staff. John’s lived practically everywhere. He graduated from N.M.M.I., and went two years to the Univ. of New Mexico. Also he’s a swell guy.
Well, I’d better close now. Give my love to Eliza, and write soon.
Your son,
Bill, Jr.
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
July 26, 1944 Duke University
Dear Pop,
Please excuse the long delay in correspondence. I’ve been rather busy of late. My three English courses have been keeping me on the ball. Not only do we have to read the prescribed text, but we also have to do outside reading and, while interesting, it eats up the time considerably.
I’ve just finished another story. It’s real short, and while it’s not nearly as good as I had hoped it would be, it is an incident taken from “early childhood” and might prove of some interest to you.j If I can find a large envelope I’ll send it and the other short sketch I was telling you about to you.
I’ve just about decided not to write any more. Each time I sit down to write I usually have a good idea in mind, but the idea turns up flooie and the story consequently ends up in a lot of drivel.
In reading a biography of Wordsworth, the author mentions that in Wordsworth’s village there were two thieves, very brutal characters. One was a doting old man of 90, the other was his grandson—aged 3. They would steal slyly hand in hand into the fruit market and stealthily steal all sorts of fruit and candies. Unknown to them, the villagers were watching their every move and, of course, instead of condemning them, looked upon their malefactions with gentleness and pity. As an idea for a story, I don’t think this has ever been worked upon and, if I get sufficient incentive, I think I’ll try my hand at it. I can think of no more touching or pathetic a scene.k
Things around here are about as usual. Eat, study, sleep.
I’m doing very well in all my subjects. Made a “B” in the last Physics quiz which, I think, will take me off the black list.
I’d better sign off now. Why don’t you send me the plot of that story you were telling me about?
Give my love to Eliza.
Your son,
Bill jr.
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
July 27, 1944 Duke University
Dear Pop,
I got your letter this morning, and agree with you that the plot has opportunities for greatness, if handled properly. However, there are a few very tough obstacles which must be eliminated. Since Mary, or “Jenny Field,” as I have named her, is a female and the central character, and I’ll have to handle the narrative from her point of view, it may prove extremely difficult to get the feeling of her character from the introspective male’s point of view. Christopher Morley did it excellently in “Kitty Foyle,” and I think I can do it too. I’ve started on the outline, and plan to do it in this manner: Make it a short novel of about 20,000 words (about the length of “Goodbye, Mr. Chips”), dividing it into 10 chapters of approximately 2,000 words each. The story, as I see it, sh
ould fall into three parts, namely, (a) Jenny at home in Guinea, (b) her life, and the various conflicts that arise at the hospital, and (C) the finale in the South Pacific.l
But still more complications arise. In a novel of this sort, one must obey the certain rules of technicality which crop up. Not ever having been a nurse, or overseas, I would hesitate to describe life in either place. So I’ll have to do some research. First, find out from Elizabeth the following things:
(1) How does a prospective nurse make application for a hospital career in nursing?
(2) What courses do the nurses take, and later, what specific courses would an anesthetist take? How long would all this take?
(3) How would a girl make application for becoming a Navy nurse?
(4) What are some of the duties of the student nurse, and of the Navy nurse?
The rest, I think, I can find out from the library and from my friends at Duke Hospital.
Right now, the plan as a whole seems to be taking good form in my mind, and I think that if I do a good job on it, work hard, it might turn out to be something. However, I won’t know until I’ve finished it. I’ll start on the first part, and you send me the information. With careful revision, it should be finished in a month and a half.
Thanks a lot for the idea, and I’ll keep in touch with you as to my progress.
Your son,
Bill jr.
Ask Eliza to tell you of any typical class-room incidents which have reflected the general ignorance of a country girl. Please tell her also, that anything she can tell me about nurse training I can use.
Styron arrived at Parris Island for boot camp in October 1944. He was almost immediately confined to the urinary ward of the base’s hospital when his blood falsely tested positive for syphilis. After a stay of more than two weeks, Styron was informed that he actually had trench mouth and was allowed to resume training.m
TO WILLIAM C. STYRON, SR.
November 25, 1944 Parris Island, SC