Cal
* * *
P. S. We are now enjoying a hail storm, crystal peas bouncing off mouldy parapets. Winter is long. Huyck’s Mother, old and sick, said “It’s nice to have a nice guest since summer is late.”
10. Robert Lowell to Mrs. Robert Lowell
[All Souls College, Oxford]
[April 26, 1970]
Dearest Liz—I enclose Professor Edwards’s letter45 so you can see once and for all the college is Essex not Sussex—not much difference maybe, except that Essex has Donald Davie’s rather special literature department; and demonstrations.46 However, no one thinks I’ll be bothered much. The question is whether you’d like to live in London or somewhere in Essex or Sussex. Cambridge is no farther from London, but apparently long by car, the only way of getting there while London is under an hour by train. The only reason to take the job is to be in England, which I am for.
Oh sell the car. I superstitiously feel no rented car will roll/ without hitch as our dear old burgundy.47 You mustn’t sell any papers, tho I would be glad of an appraisal. I loathe the idea of their lying forever in the wastes of Stonybrook. Have you been there? Do papers include letters, or just my ms.? In any case I would have to have zeroxes.48 But I don’t want them to go to Stonybrook. Maybe, God help us, you’ll come on Allen’s material when you rummage. His letter was the worst I’ve ever had from him.
I know how vexing the decisions are, and how toilsome carrying them out. I think I can decide by ten days; then you must decide. Sorry not to have written more, but I had great trouble working Huyck’s typewriter, the only vexation in a lovely visit. Nothing much to report. All Souls is a club dressed up as a college. Delightful, but I/ am both too old and too young for it.
Give H. my love and yours,
Cal
* * *
P. S. Edwards (the author of the enclosed) just called; we meet at the National Liberal Club on the 29th. Maybe I’ll know then.
11. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell49
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
Tuesday, April 26 [1970]
Darling: I loved having a little talk with you and can’t wait to get your letters, to hear from you by phone on Sunday. The call relieved me, because it had been such a long time and one does mind, does feel cut off and strange.
I see that I have been mixing up Sussex and Essex. Quentin Anderson was in Sussex and although Jack had had the idea it wasn’t too successful, Quentin told me he had liked it very much.
I think we should go, if you feel after you’ve been around awhile anxious to return to England. I worry about details, such as renting our place and getting everything in order here. I’m sure we can find a London place. And I think we should take Nicole, who would I assume want to go. What a help that would be, for all of us, for Harriet. Cal, I feel the best thing about making a change would be the release from Dalton for Harriet. She is “socially”/ happier this year, but the system is truly not suited to her nature. It is pressured and anxious-making in a peculiar way. Those month-long assignments are grotesque. I have watched Harriet these last years and I find that so far as getting the work done she is much happier with things like math that have daily assignment. She may not always do them well, but they are done the minute she gets home, and then one is free at least from the spectre of undone work. Then you don’t learn anything at Dalton, unless you teach yourself. You, otherwise, simply flounder about in work for which you haven’t the background, you fake, you blink in confusion.… She will mind going away a little, but I feel certain in my heart that she will improve as a student. The camp this summer will help in making a new adjustment.
Otherwise, she is beautiful, practicing for the modern dance recital tomorrow night, playing “Blowing in the Wind” and “Donna, Donna” on the guitar,50 using bad language, washing her hair, lightly dieting.
I have been so occupied with Harriet, making appointments with teachers to see what the trouble [is], trying to get her caught up so that she doesn’t have Saturday school—but this last week I did see Bob, the Epsteins, some movies …
A grotesque thing is planned for Friday at Yale. Up to 30,000 people descending on New Haven to demonstrate about the Black Panther trial. (This one is Bobby Seale and the murder of a black informer.51) Yale hasn’t had classes all week, accommodations are being set up. Brewster made a statement last week, saying that he didn’t think the Panthers could get a fair trial and seeming to go along with the shut-down of Yale.52 This seemed to me really suicidal. I agree the Panthers can’t get a fair trial, but I can’t see that Yale, as a school, can involve itself in this. What are the judges, the lawyers, the jurors to do. Watch the demonstrators and turn off the trial, acquit them? (There is a death and nearly everyone thinks some Panther is responsible—who else?) What is Yale to do if there is violence? I feel the demonstration is o.k., but I don’t think the university should be seeming to promote it. I really do feel that if we want the university out of the CIA, the Defense Department, we can’t have it involving itself in left-wing things, although individual teachers may do so and students will naturally want to do so. (I’ve made a mess of expressing what is on my mind. Sounds like a New York Post editorial. Much more complicated in fact.) Horrible rampaging at Harvard recently.53 God knows over what issue. Still if it weren’t for the students there would be no protest anywhere. Worst of times and the best of times.54
Otherwise a sense of let-down here, generally. Spring … We’ll go up to Olga’s55 toward the end of the month.
Darling, I must finish up the papers today. The man is coming tomorrow. I am happy that they will be in some disorderly order, at least. It is important. If anything happened to us this would at least makes56 things easier. I haven’t the time to read letters—thousands and thousands … And what a lot of papers, but I will write a list of interesting things. I am not throwing about57 anything, “girls” or otherwise! As I told you, this is just a getting together. The selling would be very complicated, a long-drawn out thing—so don’t worry!
I’ll write soon. Sorry for this bureaucratic letter. I have to write some good ones for the “files”!58
Love, my heart, always,
E.
* * *
If we go to England we can go during the year to France, Scotland, Ireland! Portugal!
* * *
P.S. I found some things of Allen’s—articles, reviews, etc., telephoned him immediately and will send them.59 I hadn’t had your news then of his letter. Poor A. a little baby, in fever, crying in the background.60 How the years came back! A. and H. are going to England in May.
12. Robert Lowell to Mrs. Robert Lowell
All Souls, Oxford
April 27, 1970
Dearest—
I haven’t really noticed the calendar for weeks; now three days roll by in the space of one. In ways you might guess All Souls is too good to be true: windows on the Warden’s garden close, roused by the knock of a maid, my gown taken from my back at Commons and rushed up two flights of stairs by my scout to my lodgings, food about as good as Mrs. Meyers’s,61 letters stamped and mailed for me. And anomalies: about twenty fellows occupy buildings as large as Quincy House, down my hall is a cell marked Q. Hogg (the former Conservative Prime Minister). And of course there are people who knew Churchill, Gaitskell and Attlee. And anomalies; I used to think there couldn’t be too many, but it’s like living on only old frosting. The second sex doesn’t exist at All Souls, I feel fourteen again, vacationing at St. Mark’s.62
I won’t hear from Professor Edwards of Essex till tomorrow, but I’ve talked at length with Isaiah and John Wain. The main trouble seems to be rather disturbing student demonstrations, like Berkeley. On the other hand not living in the town would probably keep me disengaged and untroubled. Davie thinks the department one [of] the best he has ever seen (he chose it). Almost everyone understands how one would want to leave America temporarily. If it looks like we will accept, I think you should fly over for a
week or so, when H’s school is out and we will decide on where to live. Dear Harriet’s school. I am unhappy about her/ school troubles; they are so like mine at 13, 14 and 15, that I brush them off a little. I had the same record, but almost no one thought me humanly bright. Harriet is very stubbornly and humorously deep—God help her.
Living in a family63 made it easier to be away from you, but here/ I miss you both every minute. I may telephone for you to come and get me. But there’s so much I like here; it’s an education. For what?
All my love,
Cal
* * *
P.S. I’ve answered almost all my mail on this delightful rented typewriter.
Cat for Harriet. This drawing is deficient because I have no live model in All Souls’./
13. Robert Lowell to Mrs. Robert Lowell
[Postcard: Caravaggio—David with Goliath’s Head, Borghese Gallery, Rome]
[Oxford]
[Postmarked 30 April 1970 but written on April 29]
Dearest—
I am sorry I was so mute on the phone. At the start two others seemed competing with you[.] The stones here are beginning to soften.64 Everyone is very kind and casual. All love to you both, I’m off to London.65
Cal
14. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell66
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N.Y.]
April 29, 1970
Darling: I got your first letter today and happy was I to receive it. It is now boiling hot here, incredibly noisy outside with drills, dirty … and upstairs Mr. Metzdorf, a very nice, very professional man has arrived and will be here several days! Some points I have “unearthed”—literally, since I am filled with dirt and dust and sneezing—which I’ll just tumble out lest I forget them later. The papers! (Mr. M. goes to do Eberhart’s in June.) As I told you he is paid by Stony Brook.… Now, he said, although I am not allowed to quote him, naturally, that speaking from the point of view of the papers, the only place “it fits” is Harvard!67 He said they wouldn’t have as much money possibly as other newer places, but perhaps they could get a donor. Mr. Metzdorf, a truly good man, believes collections don’t make sense unless they “fit.” He said poor Marianne Moore, who recently was reported to have sold her papers to the Rosenbach Foundation, got very little, was talked into the thing by a young man, and worst of all her papers don’t “fit” since the Rosenbach is very weak on literature.68
I am very happy to have done the work I have these last three weeks since H. and I got back. (I am not quite through yet, of course, and I have done what you would call merely primary or beginning sorting.) We have an astonishing collection here—or rather you have an astonishing collection. Actually, everything has been saved. Early notebooks, a whole box on Lord Weary’s Castle,69 worksheets, etc. Extensive worksheets on every book, not to speak of the unspeakable tons of Notebook. Each one in its place. Plays, autobiographical things that became Life Studies.70 The letters are of course unbelievable. Far more than you realize, more Allen, more Williams, Eliot, Mary McC, Pound, Powers, Delmore, five from Claude-Edmonde Magny, strange long one from Ginsberg, Theodore Roethke (I’m reading from my list), a room full of Peter.71
Mr. Metzdorf just called from your studio, saying “Did you know you had two copies of Land of Unlikeness!72 Last one sold at Gotham73 went for $1,000!” I said yes, I had actually put the two aside, listed them, one belonging to [the] library of Elizabeth Hardwick, one addressed to grandmother (Gaga)74 by R.L.
I’m just writing all this nonsense for the fun of it, just so it won’t go by without your knowing of the funny thing this excursion has been.
The most interesting things—outside of the really alarming number of E. Bishop, which are fantastic—are the Santayana and Randall.75 You have the long letter Randall wrote about L. W. Castle,76 very detailed, also a carbon of the manuscript with his handwritten notes, very extensive. (Mr. Metzdorf says that in the trade anything more than one is called “extensive!”) Also those notes you and Randall made for an anthology, which are most interesting.77 I haven’t read the letters of all these people; there wasn’t time to do anything except search for the signatures. Your letters to me,78 mine to you, yours and mine to Cousin Harriet.79 All your girl friends. Extensive!
I don’t even know whether Mr. M will tell me what evaluation he puts on these things. I’ll have to find out today how his work proceeds.
I hope you will decide to dispose of all of this and that we can gradually strip down our belongings a little and be a bit freer and less tied.
Harriet is fine, very tired from “modern dance” rehearsals, and looking forward to the performance tonight. Tomorrow she visits the eye doctor for the second time (once last week) to decide about reading glasses. She is not really in striking need of them, that we know already, but may get some for reading. Friday night we go to Boston and then up to Putney early Saturday morning, and, I hope, back to Boston and home Saturday night. I hope to talk to you on Sunday.
I’m sure your Faber party was exciting and how I wish I could have been there with you. Look around for a living place. Nicole, of course, wild to go with us if it should all work out. We’d have to go in September for Harriet’s school. I want to find out the name of some schools, but will just settle for the American School in London80 probably.
Dearest forgive all foolishness. Love, peace, good health to you,
Elizabeth
15. Harriet Lowell to Robert Lowell81
[New York, N.Y.]
[n.d. April? 1970]
Hi Dad,
How is England? Do you want to teach there next year. I miss you very much. So does Sumner. Sumner is biting my pencil.
Love,
Harriet
16. Elizabeth Hardwick to Robert Lowell
[15 West 67th Street, New York, N. Y.]
May 3, 1970
Dearest: I loved talking to you today. England sounds delightful and I am completely happy about your decision. Harriet seems very agreeable to it, by which I mean there have been no tears or real resentment although she will say she is not sure she wants to go away. But how could she be sure? I think she is relieved. She was very good at Putney over the weekend and had I think a quite successful interview. She wants to go up to Abbot-Andover82 and I will try it before school is out. So I incline to the belief that this shows a willingness to explore the world. She will miss Lisa the most I think, for they have become good friends. I also think the American School will be more what she has been used to at Dalton. The comprehensive schools are for those who on the 11 plus exams don’t get into grammar schools.83 I don’t think the kind of education, the kind of pupil would be right. And also she has done well in recent years on the various standardized tests given at the end of each period. We will have the results of her SSAT’s in June84—the standard prep school test, which private schools take, and which is required by the American School. She will do well, I imagine … I feel sure she only needs to begin to care deeply about a subject to be a very good student. I hope she will make friends and expect she will.
I would so like to be in a nice neighborhood, not a good place in a dreary neighborhood, or something out of the way. I don’t want, if possible, to have too much trouble getting about—I hate transportation and being stuck somewhere. I will not live in the equivalent of Eric’s place on Riverside Drive.85 It was so dreary I nearly died. We have the money and so please, please don’t be hasty. I can come over around June 10th or so. Harriet goes to camp on the 28th of June. I think we should take her and then go on to Maine, not go up to Maine and then come back to Connecticut.
.… I am so pleased you liked Essex.
I am telling them tomorrow at Barnard86 and will tell Dalton also. You should write to Harvard. Otherwise I will take care of everything.
Your “papers” are in the most incredible fine/ order and they are most interesting. Mr. Metzdorf gave me to understand Stony Brook was thinking of between $50,000 and $100,000. The very inflated prices one hears of aren’t tr
ue, he says. For instance Susan Thompson said a letter of yours, nothing special, to a poet, she thought maybe Louise Bogan or something someone, was listed by a dealer in the Library Journal for $800. Mr. M. thought that was ridiculous, and said who would buy a letter for that? Anyway we will know his evaluation in a few weeks. I am writing to Harvard just to start that going, since the minute the evaluation (and it includes a complete inventory) comes, Stony Brook will want a reply.… All of this is so boring to write you about, even though the papers are most interesting.…
I hate going into all these book-keeping and housekeeping and child-raising details, because they leave out the real news of the day. But I have been absolutely overwhelmed with all this and just to be able to [g]o away, to get the taxes, insurances, houses, studies, papers, schools organized, mail answered, things turned down, will take every minute until we go to Maine. It is simply horrendous. The drive back to the airport from Vermont was very tiring and I have been all morning on the State Insurance Fund87 (Nicole) which is required by law.… so it goes, and I can’t wait to get away from some of it for a while.
I don’t seem to have any mail saved for you. Some books of interest.
Darling, I’m so happy you’re having such a nice time. I have to stop to send off some things today and I will write again, more interestingly, very soon. We’re both fine and miss you sorely. And we miss you more and more and send our dearest love to you,
The Dolphin Letters, 1970-1979 Page 6