by Doreen Bates
THURSDAY 11 JULY
Lunched in the Park with E who had brought the Chinese book (by Bramah) to read an extract to me. It is satire on England – quite amusing – there was a skit on the Shakespeare craze with 3 quotations, the third one of which I placed when E read it to me. Romeo and Juliet came into my mind, but I couldn’t think where it was – 5 minutes later I looked at the paraphrase, felt the context was on the tip of my tongue, gave it up and said, ‘It’s in one of three places – Romeo and Juliet,’ and I was just going to add, ‘or Othello, or the Sonnets’ – when the line leapt like a revelation to my mind, ‘He jests at scars …’ It was a perfect example of an unconscious solution to a problem – the 3rd neogenetic principle of Spearman!
I don’t dislike my new boss, Johnstone. He is finicky – meticulous to the point of mania, but one feels he does it for the aesthetic satisfaction of seeing a file look elegant. ‘Don’t put big ticks and crosses all over an a/c.’ His writing is pretty (and difficult to read). He makes quite an effort to be genial – enquired how Muffett was getting on.
RED-LETTER DAY SUNDAY 14 JULY
On Friday night I met Ella and we went to the Russian Ballet at Covent Garden: Cotillon and Aurora’s Wedding were lovely. I had two verdicts about them. Neither was great – they were concerned with little things – the jokes, fantasies, trillings of the imagination – fairy tales, dances, light-hearted and captivating just because they are not real. Scheherazade was a contrast. It made me feel mentally sick. I just felt disgust and distaste for the whole gorgeous spectacle so elaborately staged and set and dressed. I thought the skill expended on its design and performance was wasted. My feeling of distaste was so strong that I suspect it must have ‘touched’ a complex – but I don’t know. Again a fairy tale – from the Arabian Nights, but there was not a single pleasant character – the episode of the negroes and the harem women seemed to me the most obscene I have ever witnessed – not ‘subversive of morals’ but calculated to evoke one’s most ascetic feelings. Horrible! It affected me so much that I felt I could not bear E except at a distance.
And yet in spite of the heat and in spite of this feeling we loved for three quarters of an hour yesterday in Hatchet Wood. It is a measure of my love for him and perhaps the effect of a different environment that I could so soon overcome my disgust. I have rarely experienced so many and such varied feelings in 24 hours.
I went from Paddington and he went from Marylebone (for greater discretion) and we met at West Wycombe station – a blazing sunny day at its hottest with hardly a breeze. We walked through the village which is lovely. It had been bought and given to the National Trust. There are small dark shops in one of which we bought two oranges and some lemonade from a slow-moving, gruff old woman who said to a customer asking for a loaf, ‘I suppose you can go and take one for yourself.’ The shop was a higgledy-piggledy collection of stock and she seemed not to know where anything was.
We were anxious to find a shady spot to rest and lunch so we turned off the road without exploring in the village and climbed a steep sunny hill. When we finally reached some beech woods we found that they sheltered horse flies that so worried and bit us and got on our nerves that we went on as quickly as the heat would allow till we emerged in the sun. This persecution by horse flies lent a sinister atmosphere to the day. The sun blazed remorselessly, impersonally. It seemed like the noontide counterpart ‘Good things of day begin to droop and drowse’ – one of the most sinister speeches in Macbeth.
West Wycombe High Street
However, we plodded on hot and thirsty to Boulter End where the expedition changed its character and became successful. We found the Old Peacock Inn in a lovely position at the top of the hill, viewing the Thames valley at the crossroads from Marlow, Oxford, Wycombe and Henley. We looked through the open window of the bar parlour and beheld Mr Keppel reading the local paper and trying to keep cool. He was a little deaf, strong-minded but slow-moving and he said we could have tea – they didn’t hang out a board as they hadn’t room for 15 or 20. A huge bowl of Canterbury bells and lilies was on the table and a row of chairs around 2 walls which to me always makes a room look as if it is waiting for relations to come and hear a will read. The tea was excellent – brown and white bread and butter, blackberry jelly, chocolate cakes and Dundee cake, 1/-each.
We set off at 4.45 and found it cooler – we were aiming at Marlow indirectly by way of Fingest, a fascinating name with a soft ‘g’. A lovely mile or two by path dropping gradually through corn fields to the village. The corn seemed more developed, already showing a tinge of gold; poppies, scabious and corn-cockle provided splashes of colour.
Fingest church is old and most individual. Inside we found a guide and pottered all round. Then, just by the table of the affinity, E put his arms round me suddenly when I had my back to him. It was almost the first time he had touched me and I loved him. He kissed me and I could feel his heart thumping. I have never done or suffered anything with such a conviction that it was right. To do this in that lovely old church made it seem sweet and sanctified. I had not told him of my disgust at the Arabian Nights ballet but if I had he could not have done anything more effectively to wipe it away from my mind. After about a minute someone came with some flowers and a maid and we went on.
Went to church this evening, I in my Jerusalem frock. The psalms were lovely – ‘The Lord is My Shepherd’ and ‘The Earth is the Lord’s’ – especially the second – E’s psalm ‘Who shall ascend unto the hill of the Lord and who shall rise up in his holy place? …’ The Magnificat just fitted my mood and so did the Nunc Dimittis. I felt blessed and unworthy. I felt that unless I made my return – gave back something for my happiness – I should sin. I must strive humbly to be worthy and thankful and perceptive and when the flash comes and I feel the glow of happiness and see the reflection of beauty – make it into something that others can feel.
Sometimes I am transported with happiness, and it is good. I can perceive beauty – it is good. Oh, may I not become blind to these things before I can learn to make something of them – where much is given much is expected. I must not fail.
WEDNESDAY 17 JULY
Cooler – a breeze, and even about 30 secs of rain – heavy, beginning and ceasing suddenly, like a watering can poured over the roofs – then billowy clouds and sunshine.
Inclined to be dismal. I am a miserable creature – ‘Oh, you are full of self love …’ Just count your blessings, woman – a good job, a nice family which helps me and needs my help, someone to love who loves me, quite a good selection of friends, a glimmering of intelligence and a glimpse of insight – why sigh for more love – just more love-making in time and amount, and a baby?
I want to make E a verse for his birthday … (I didn’t).
SUNDAY 21 JULY
A perfect day – bright sunshine with cool breeze. I met E at Clapham at 10.30 and after I had bought half a pound of cherries and an orange we caught the 10.53 train to Three Bridges. I had had misgivings – wondered if he would be prevented from coming, would not wake up, or would have had to go to Sheffield – but there he was as I was looking out of the window on the bridge at the trains. I felt gay and light-hearted and full of energy. We talked about the resemblance between the Polyphemus story in the Odyssey and ‘Sinbad’. A lovely walk through Worth Forest – pines, silver birches, oaks, beeches, bracken and baby partridges and one big jay. After lunch we loved and for a few seconds I was afraid of him. Then I liked him, his soft fluffy hair, short and washed. I felt so proud that he liked my body – his hands as he stroked my bones, then I felt gay and laughed at him. He said, ‘It’s a nice thing to take someone into your arms and then jeer at him.’ We were not long – ten minutes perhaps – but sweet. We walked to Cowdray Arms for a lovely tea – bread and butter, China tea, jelly, raspberries and cream and cake – one of the best teas we have had. A perfect day of happiness (with only a few mosquitoes and half a mile of cars on the road to emphasize the beauty), snatched from d
estiny – ours for ever, so long as we remember.
SATURDAY 27 JULY
I have gradually reached a comparatively detached state – I feel less actively in love with E since about Nov 1933. It is a kind of calm serenity, a pleasant freedom from the gnawing longing for him when I wasn’t with him and anxious desires when I was, which made the last year or so tense and which have made me miserable as often as happy. I have so often resolved not to think so much about him and failed to carry out the resolution. I can’t think how it has happened now. I suppose it is partly sheer weariness, partly because last weekend and the weekend before we loved and I am physically satisfied, partly because I have had other things to think of – holidays, St George’s, the Wyndham Lewis book. Last night I was dismal in a detached way – almost decided to finish things when I can no longer see any point in them – which for me means beauty. Decided to tell E how I felt and ask him, sentimentally, if he would like my diaries! Of course, I didn’t.
TUESDAY 20 AUGUST
A long gap during part of which I spent a queer week with Nancy* in Derbyshire. It was a strain. I find her terribly narrow, tho’ refreshing in a way. It was not altogether her fault that she got on my nerves. Till the second Saturday I was in a state of uncertainty and conflict – didn’t hap – was 6 days late – didn’t know if I was having a baby and whether I should keep it or not if I was – a wretched state of indecision and suspense – was relieved to find I wasn’t on Sat. What made me wonder most was that I had lost all desire for E from the week after our Sunday at Worth Forest. I liked him but didn’t ache for him, as tho’ he had satisfied me. K is at Eastbourne all this week. Last night we went to Noah. He just gave me one very small kiss. I loved him a little. I liked the play better than I expected – I nearly cried at the end of Scene II, Act III where Noah prays that the Ark be overturned as his sons are so hopeless.
WEDNESDAY 28 AUGUST
I am a pig – I wish I could be better. I hate K. An intellectual appreciation of a person does not alter one’s feelings to the smallest degree. I am just obsessed with the idea that she has prevented me from having children. I told E a little how I felt and then felt ashamed. It makes it bigger and more alive to have spoken of it – and to have said nothing all this time – I might surely have held my peace for a day or 2 more. It isn’t jealousy, tho’ it may be envy. I said to him, ‘You shouldn’t blame people for their natures but you can’t help disliking them for them.’ Oh, how will it end?
SATURDAY 7 SEPTEMBER
A lovely day – cool, in fact, cold this evening but sunny with a slight mist – a perfect Sept day. I did no work whatever this morning thanks to a long visit from Hyde (a colleague) who stayed from 10.05 to 11.45 just chatting. He is quite nice but completely lacking in subtlety.
I have been rather depressed. I have almost ceased to love E. I don’t know why. I almost feel like giving him an ultimatum: I have given you my utmost and you have given me all you could in the circumstances. But I can’t go on. You must either give me up or K – you can’t have us both. He would keep K, tho’ he might suffer, I know, but I feel that I should soon get over the loss, especially if I worked hard. He will have to strive again to get me back to the point I had reached. He did nothing really for months but I kept our love going after Shaw’s death. It is his turn now.
THURSDAY 19 SEPTEMBER
I had a queer dream last night which was almost a nightmare – thought E and I were sleeping together in one bed – that was all. I felt tired and heavy and couldn’t concentrate clearly – I just slept and he did too. Then K came in and saw us. She was full of righteous indignation and went back to her room with hardly a word – just a look. I tried to rouse myself and kept putting on my teddy bear dressing gown and then finding the sleeves were inside out or I’d taken it off and hung it on a hanger – a long period of confused struggling with the dressing gown before I succeeded – I don’t know what E was doing – rather think he was asleep. I was determined to follow K and have it out with her. When I reached her room I found she was in bed with a man, who was simply repulsive and hated me. He simply gnashed his teeth at me with loathing – I didn’t know him and yet at the same time he seemed to be E. He was as-it-were a hideous opposite of E – the back of the portrait, distorted and horrible. I just looked at him and was appalled and then awoke.
SUNDAY 6 OCTOBER
Now, in contrast to the last entry – a lovely day with E. He came back from his cruise on 27th Sept and I got back from Germany (the Harz and KÖln with M) on 1st Oct – last Tuesday. He was glad to see me after 31 days apart. He had given me up on Tuesday – expected me on Monday and waited for my train on Tuesday morning and then resigned himself to wait till next week. He didn’t come down to see me – I wondered why but waited till 1.25 and then just looked in. He got quite a shock and was glad to see me. I said I supposed he didn’t care when or whether I came back and we started again to bicker and talk and argue and love. We lunched together every day – he decided to come to Birkbeck to Philosophy with me Mon and Wed. I was surprised at this, and divided – in a way I would rather be independent, in case we have to stop – also he makes me nervous with Joad and the others. However, I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘No’. I knew I should regret it.
THURSDAY 10 OCTOBER
I have been a bit edgy today – possibly because I went to bed late after seeing Greta Garbo in Queen Christina and because my sleep was disturbed by the film. It is queer that from this afternoon I have been a little dismal after being almost quite happy for a week. I was quite content and thankful to love this morning yet by this evening I disturbed E by asking him if he told people when he didn’t want them. He finished reading his diary. How I do hate K with her placid unselfishness and sense of duty spoiling 3 lives. If he still loves me – and I believe he does – I wish he’d tell her and settle it one way or the other. Why doesn’t he? Is it consideration for her? – for me? – kindness, or selfish fear and weakness? I don’t know, but he won’t. Unless a miracle happens we shall drift on. I must try to be patient. I am tired.
MONDAY 14 OCTOBER
After a laborious weekend a good day. It has been dull, milder – slight rain, wore my brown shantung blouse and costume and brown felt hat and best shoes. Worked nearly all day – hard and concentrated – got quite considerable satisfaction out of it. A pleasant lunchtime at Vianne’s with E – he told me about Eddington’s new book, Pathways of Science, and I told him about Powys’ Autobiography and a good bit of shop – tricky things. We went to University College and did Pitch Discrimination and Intensity Discrimination and then to Joad on Plato and the change when ice melts. He liked me today. He said, ‘You look nice tonight – I suppose it’s the brown hat,’ on the escalator at Warren St. We hadn’t time for tea. It was sweet to argue with him and disagree and agree. He is subtle and can see what I mean. He thinks the main hope of finding design in the Universe is that water expands instead of contracting – an anomaly which makes life possible. There is nothing sweeter than intellectual clash and duet with someone you love – even the ecstasy of sex contact.
FRIDAY 18 OCTOBER
Elsie Fisher called this afternoon. We couldn’t be quite frank as Miss Cameron and Miss Hunter were working in my room. I was a bit dismal. I told E, but not much. Really I am proud that he doesn’t think me weak but now and then I get discouraged. It is a necessary measure of his love in a way – he makes me suffer as he would make himself suffer. Yet how I long for peace and security. I saw two nuns this morning and almost envied them – so restful to surrender one’s will and not to have to think for oneself.
SATURDAY 19 OCTOBER
I went to the Vic to see Peer Gynt. I half wondered whether E would come, but I didn’t see him. A queer play – poetic, visionary, obscure, tremendous – well produced – the effects get better and better.
Oh, I want E so much. I can’t go on sharing his time and energy with K. It is impossible to go on like this. Why did he marry her so heedlessly?
Yet he pitied her, and I pitied him at first and my love grew out of pity to the overwhelming feeling it is. I suppose he loves her in a way. Oh, if one of us could die, I don’t care which. ‘Give me the patience. Patience I need.’ I must not blame him for his nature, still less for his weakness. Heavens, if I could do something, but I must always keep my tongue silent and fold up my misery in my heart.
SUNDAY 20 OCTOBER
Better today – I feel rather a pig – thankless and grasping instead of sitting down quietly and thanking whatever arranges the Universe for giving me someone to love, who loves me. Why don’t I feel sorry for K? I don’t, and the only wrong we do her is in deceiving her.
MONDAY 21 OCTOBER
I am better – much more tranquil. We liked us – bickered a little. I told him at Waterloo that I had had a bad day on Friday and Saturday and said that I believed that if I could get over it I should ultimately be better than if I had been lucky. He said, ‘Do you think you’re unlucky? Why?’ I said, ‘Because I can’t have all I want – having a positive lot of one thing doesn’t fill a negative void – in fact it makes it worse.’