A letter from the Sussex people, or person rather.2 I don’t know. I found I was so pleased to see our sinfully comfortable, heavily equipped apartment, our library, records, Harriet immediately settled in spite of the trip for three hours with her guitar.… then I thought of some cold, rented place, with no books or records, few rays of heat, gas logs, the works and then I wondered. But still see how you feel about it. We needn’t go next year, but might wait a bit until H. is in boarding school and would actually be nearly 15, quite old enough to come for Christmas in London. Then we’d be free, without all the cares of a real family “situation.” I don’t know … perhaps this is the fatigue of the trip home, the pleasure of Nicole and Sumner3!
Bob is fine and Mrs. Barbara4 likewise. That is all I’ve had time for. Will write again in a few days, to Oxford, sending along the mail as I said. It is bright and sunny here today.… Be happy, be somewhat wise, and a little prudent. Enclose article on lithium.5 Much love always to you and the fondest greetings to our Dutch friends.
Elizabeth
2. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
April 10, 1970
Dearest Cal: I will send off the mail in a few days. Please answer this enclosed request immediately.6 … How, I miss you! I came home with a terrible cold and have been feeling rotten and unreal, going to sleep at 8 P.M., waking up at five. It seems to be almost gone today and so perhaps things will seem more cheerful, instead of lonely, dark, broken up.
Poor Bill.7 The play, as he thought, did not please. Clive Barnes and the N.Y. Post were all I have seen thus far, and they thought it was boring. Bill himself came out all right, with the reviewers wondering why they ever thought of reworking a good play in this manner.8 It does seem such an ungodly waste. I sent him a telegram for all three of us and will call him today. I assume the thing will not run.
Isaiah B. popped over for a moment last night to tell me goodbye. They9 are off today and looking forward to seeing you.
The mail groweth ever worse, even though I have cut down a lot of it.10 I’m sorry to say I was too sick to go to Orestes. And I haven’t seen anyone, except Isaiah for a moment.
I still look back with joy on the Italian trip—with you, especially. Dearest one, happiness and peace go with you and return—to turmoil and domestic rasp, which is kinda nice too.
Harriet is fine, full and fresh.
Elizabeth
3. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
Saturday, April 12, 1970
Dearest: I’m so sorry about the trouble you had at the Rome airport. I know you’ve forgotten it by now, but still the picture of the old bear … struggling …11 It’s too much. I’m at last, for the first time today, over that damned cold I got on the way home. All forgotten.
My first letter to you may have seemed lukewarm about England. I was under the spell of the clean, quiet apartment. But that is gone, once more. Cal I can’t cope. I have gotten so that I simply cannot bear it. Each day’s mail and effort grows greater and greater: we have left a little bit of ourselves in too many places. Writing, students, politics, friends, automobile, Maine, taxes, bills, house, Harriet, books arriving at the rate of ten or so a day. I give all my time to this and yet everything is in disorder, files mounting up like those of some monstrous institution, old checks, records, things in four or five places, since four or five “homes” are needed, and hours spent looking for a single bill, wondering if it was paid.… I feel the getting away for a year would push us backward to some more possible step along the way. Also I know the awful anxiety here. Harriet doesn’t really like Dalton12 anymore and it seems to me needlessly complicated and anxious-making in its organization, without truly giving very sound instruction. Also I have some concern about her deep-seated notions that such and such aren’t “important”—grades, school, traditions, work. I feel as Esther13 does that one can’t do much, but must try to offer some variation on this dismaying theme.
Now, wait until you hear what I have gotten involved in. Jack Thompson happened to speak to the President of Stony Brook14 about your papers. They are wildly interested: hoping to compete with Buffalo maybe.15 In any case, he, the President, is arranging for an appraiser to come next week or so. I was rather taken aback by this, since you aren’t here, etc. However, I will try to stir myself to get the things in some sort of shape and with a list, general outline. I don’t see why you shouldn’t have the appraisal. You needn’t act on it, and you needn’t sell the stuff to Stony Brook, but could then compare offers with other places. I feel that the papers should be sent somewhere because the whole thing would be an unbearable headache for Harriet. The money would be parcelled out in yearly installments. And perhaps we should have this “foundation” and really change our lives for awhile or forever. I, myself, feel that it would be a relief to dispose of as much back-log as we can, in the concern for simpling a life that has become too weighty, detailed, heavy—for me. If we don’t do this I will have to have a secretary next year, or else simply give up on any hope of writing or reading. I don’t want a secretary. Another person to deal with, face, worry about, pay … But.
I’m also ready, as you are, to be d-mobilized! Darling, think of a cottage, as they call it, near Oxford or Cambridge, or near London. A garden, a library, a few friends. (What nonsense! Sounds like Katherine Mansfield and J. Middleton Murry.)16
Much love, my only one. I miss you amazingly! “Amazingly” only in that I thought it would be possible to use this time to catch up. But it is not you I need to be separated from but from all this nonsense here.
Sweetheart, I’m not planning to sell anything of yours or even to be very snoopy. There is not the time nor the inclination. The few letters I glanced at seemed to belong to another life, lived by two other fools. (These are letters in my own desk. I won’t go through anything in your study. Just give a general idea.)
Answer this Harvard thing.17 I am sending a packet of mail today. Nothing “important” as H. would say.
Elizabeth
* * *
Horrors! The papers, the manuscript, the letters. I took one look at your studio. Really we must make an effort to get this vaguely organized and taken away. How do you open the filing case! Of course the appraiser can’t come until something is done to organize all of this. I really think it would be worthwhile and I will do what I can.
4. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
April 14, 1970
Darling: How I miss you! I wrote the Brookses that if you stay married long enough you are bound to fall in love, and so I pass that on to you. It is so lonely without you. Everything since I’ve been back has been a little disturbing. Poor Harriet is so far behind in Spanish and Latin she will never catch up, and that fills her and me with despair. Don’t know quite how it happened. The Dalton system is unnecessarily complicated and nervous-making. Otherwise I think she’s doing fairly well. There will be a report on Thursday. Also the poor dear has eczema on her face, around her eyes, even on the eyelids. I am sure we will be able to cope with it, but at the moment I suffer for her. She misses you also, dearest. We owed a lot of money to the income tax! I am absolutely bogged down in your “papers,” and tempted to give up, but still if I can persist it will be valuable to you, to us, to those who come after us.18 It is important to try to make some order at this point. I haven’t heard from the appraisal man, and of course am not planning anything without your wishes.
I wonder if you are in Oxford yet. Do let me know several things. One, roughly when you will be returning. We have to make plans here for June appointments, going to Maine, preparing for camp, etc. Also give me some ideas about next year as soon as possible.
No mail of any interest. The political scene is very dark and mysterious here. It will just be luck if we come out of it without too much damage to the country. Both the left and administrati
on are so profoundly threatening. Of course all our friends say the left has not enough power to be threatening, but I don’t agree. I do believe that, powerless as they are, they have profoundly shaped the course of the country by their hysterical “revolutionary” games … The poor astronauts in the lunar nodule with failing oxygen19—aren’t they the symbol? How I wish I liked nature and simplicity and isolation better than I do. That would be an escape from the low-oxygen nodule, but I love the hard pavements, the killing noise. There’s so much I want to talk to you about.
Bill Alfred is trying to be brave, but the loss of so many years is great. He says he has another play almost ready and I hope he can have the courage to continue. The sadness of it all oppresses me. I’m sure he needed money for the excesses of Old Mr. A.20 He sends his love to you.
Write us when you have time. Find, somewhere in your pocket with a hole in it, a little prudence. May God keep you.
E.
5. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
Saturday, April 19, 1970
Darling: I hope to hear from you today. Really, I do miss you so and wish we hadn’t embarked on this long separation. However, there is nothing to be done about it now. The morning is beautiful today and last night was warm and misty. Went to Jean van der Heuvel’s party for Nicolas and Dominique.21 It was rather dull, as these large cocktail parties spanning the human possibilities will be: from black to white, rich to poor, important to handsome, young to old, left to right. Can’t quite remember who was “poor” but he must have been there. Greetings and love and expressions of wish for your presence were heard.
Marian Schlesinger there like a spectre, but quite a heavy one in purple satin. Arthur must have been out of town and so this moment was seized to include the poor abbandonata.22 Misfortune and neglect have not improved Marian.
Blair23 called, plans to be in London some time in May.
Harriet’s report was very bad, except for English. I was quite unhappy about it and she seems very sullen and careless and although one knows that this is adolescence and sees it without alarm in other people’s children, still it does worry.… She is trying to grow up and there is so much charming and lovable about it. I think it is the negativism that causes me concern and a lack of even normal ambition. They say at school that she could do as well as anyone, and I believe that is meant seriously. But she is sloppy. On the other hand, I have the idea that this year she just wants to have fun in school, whenever one can sneak that in … and so she is busy sending notes, drawing pictures of the teacher … and that is nice. I wish I knew what would [be] best for her. The camp this summer could make a big difference.24 We will go up to Putney.25 In general I would like a less long-haired school, but I am not sure where she can get i[n], what she would like. This is such a critical year for her record, since it is the one that will decide. On the other hand, I hate to have her leave. If I could find any way to make New York really good for her I would like it best of all because then the dear one could be with us.
Sumner is pawing the typewriter.
I don’t even know where you are. No doubt in London, going about every minute. No mail except worrisome requests from students for recommendations, or more recommendations. I write them and say that you are away and that it will be sometime before you can be settled and able to do that sort of desk work …
Do send us a line. I’ll write again next month week, on Monday. Much love, darling.
E.
6. Robert Lowell to Mrs. Robert Lowell26
[Postcard: Frans Hals—Regentesses of the Old Men’s Almshouse of Haarlem, Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem]
[Amsterdam]
[April 21, 1970]
Dearest Liz—
After a beautiful sunlit day in Haarlem—something we never saw 20 years gone. How the old numbers turn up on the wheel! I’ve seen every friend and acquaintance of 1952,27 except Roger Hinks, who is gone.28 I’ve had such a good visit, I am dull. Oxford in a couple of days.
Luv, Cal
7. Robert Lowell to Miss Harriet Lowell29
[Postcard: Frans Hals—detail of Regents of the Old Men’s Almshouse of Haarlem,30 Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem]
[Amsterdam]
[April 21, 1970]
Dearest Harriet—
This picture is not a photograph of me, but of a fine man 300 years ago. I’ve seen many things you might like, but most a group of nonviolent radicals, called Kabouter,31 elves (this is true)/, the youngest your age, the oldest mine, break into an empty house. The police made them leave, but no one was hurt. Miss you terribly.
Daddy
8. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
April 24, 1970
Dearest Cal: Very distressed that I hadn’t heard from you, but I suppose I couldn’t expect it. One letter from Holland32 and now today, at last, a post-card. I had the idea you were going to Oxford sooner, but don’t see any reason why you should have. Last Sunday I had a call from Bep Du Perron.33 I could hardly hear her and couldn’t really think of anything to say. She was thanking me for a present I didn’t know anything about, but I am happy if you gave her one and I only regret that the telephone was so useless and somehow we never really got together on it—you know how it happens sometimes.
Darling: now I must have some idea about next year immediately. I would never have imagined how many things are waiting upon it, but it is quite serious. First of all, the car. I want to give it to Jack for a nominal fee (it is 1964) especially if we are going away next year and maybe anyway because of my worry about it, the terrible anxiety I have every year with insurance, registration, etc. I must know because I have to pay insurance next week or lose it … Ugh. Also, various things about Harriet’s schooling depend seriously on our plans for next year. Also how on earth am I going to rent three apartments34 when I am away in the summer and would want to come back only for a quick leaving for England. I don’t know whether you should take the Sussex or not. One is naturally mixed—inertia, the problems of settling, Sumner,/ no place to live and work that would be right for us. Yet—the idea of being out of the US is attractive, perhaps. I understand from Bob that Sussex U (sounds like a cheerleader) is in Brighton … I also understand that Quentin Anderson and family were there last year and hated it!
But do make some inquiries and give us an idea. Harriet is trapped in some sort of escalating warfare with the Spanish teacher and cannot get “signed off” on her work card of two months ago—like a suit in Chancery.35 She has to go back to school on Sat. (her third); she is willing to do anything and yet somehow nothing advances her suit.… I am furious.… Will go over this afternoon trying to get some sort of way out for H. I can understand those parents (I know so many) after long years in a school, have a row and take their children out. I have no place to take her and so I’ll try to be cool. She is fine, except for this; having a nice time with Lisa36 on many occasions and is still your lovely little, big girl.
The mails bring nothing except tedious requests for letters to be sent in answer to something or other. I am trying to keep up, also still on your “papers.” It will be a help to have them in some order, but what a chore. The man is coming to see them on next Wednesday. I miss you, old man. I wish I were there to hang up your clothes, talk to you, think about things. How I loved Italy—dear Albergo di Londres.37
Take a little care, darling. I’m going out to have lunch with Bob before descending on Dalton. Bob has been in Zurich to a fantastic conference with bankers, etc., industrialists, prime ministers. I am curious to hear his report. Darling, I enclose this,38 just in case. I’ve told him and various others that you are away … but.…
Please write!
Elizabeth
9. Robert Lowell to Mrs. Robert Lowell
All Souls College, Oxford
April 25, 1970
Dearest, here I am not quite a day yet, a half lost soul in All Souls
about to have lunch with the Berlins. The first two people I met here were Charles Monteith and A. L. Rowse.39 It’s a bachelor world, but very beautiful. Oxford is rather like Bath—Bath and Yale, quite Italian. I have eaten in gown, handled a 14th century psalm book, not much else.
Thanks for your lovely letters (I had lovely good/ ones from Elizabeth,40 Farb41 and Donald Davie, who is at Stanford and suggested that I might like getting out of my country, just as he wished to leave England[)]. I’ll go to Essex next week and phone or write you immediately, when I know a little more. I think we could live in London and I could do the sort of thing I did at Harvard.42 London is fifty minutes by train. I think the change of air might be refreshing and clear the mind. In fact, if I like Essex and hear good things about it, I am inclined (if you and Harriet are willing). We could begin this October or next.
Holland. I stayed 16 days with Huyck and Judith43 and loved it all. I think I saw literally everyone we saw before, except that strange couple with the lovely father who read Finnegans Wake. All sent their love, and Henk van Galen Last, three times. I suppose they are all what we would call Old Left, but without the unpleasant features of many of ours. They are all still friends but with many rifts.
Waiting me of course was a blistering letter from Allen, a rather paranoid reading of my motives. I wrote him a gentle, I hope, rather appeasing letter back.44 I don’t want to excuse my failure with his festschrift. Give H. my love. I miss you both so. This must go now.
The Dolphin Letters, 1970-1979 Page 5