[Excelsior Springs, Missouri.]—Qualifies the criticisms of the Church expressed in his last letter. Is returning to the seminary tomorrow in a state of distress arising from apparent trivialities, such as the ‘stupidity’ of the studies and the objectionable characters of the priests. Is praying that during the last half of the [academic] year an alternative will present itself that will take him out of America. Has read some of Hugh MacDiarmid’s poetry, but found it sickening. Birch Moody has moved to the medical corps, Wilfrid and Dennis are living quietly, and Bayliss, who was sent down for a drunken episode, is doing forestry work. The few of Leavis’s undergraduates who remain in Cambridge are miserable.
Excelsior Springs, Missouri.—Refers to the interruption in their correspondence and explains why he has not written. Expresses his discontent with the Church, which he supposes is connected to his hatred of the war, and discusses his objection to his friend ‘Sergius’ [John] Farrelly’s decision to join the merchant marines in the hope of achieving a ‘personal catharsis’. Has just returned from Santa Fe, where he spent a year painting, while living in an adobe house in the orchard of the painter Olive Rush. Has had an exhibition, but will probably not paint much more, as his main object was to familiarise himself with the medium in order to become a better critic. Explains why he thinks that, with the possible exception of Eliot, the greatest artistic achievements today must be in painting rather than literature, contrasting Rouault with Mauriac and Picasso with Hemingway, and discusses his view of literature as ‘the most human of the arts’, with reference to Timon of Athens and Koestler’s Darkness at Noon. Reflects that this unplanned digression on literature was perhaps prompted by the memory of their conversations together, which nothing has replaced, except perhaps his friendship with Farrelly, whose qualities he reiterates. He himself will probably have to go into a conscientious objectors’ project soon, a prospect he does not look forward to. Dennis, who is no longer living with Wilfrid and Vera [Mellers], is engaged to a girl ‘with the incredible name of Daisy Chainy [sic]’. Gordon is in Egypt, Edward Morley and Remi Preston are teaching, and Birch Moody is in Africa. Urges him to write.
415 West 115th Street, Apartment 21, New York City.—Is anxious at not hearing from him. Having failed the physical examination for the conscientious objectors’ camp he has come to New York, mainly for the galleries. There he has made the acquaintance of an actor named Kostya Hubbard, and Father Gardiner, now literary editor of America, lives nearby. Gives an account of John Farrelly’s visit to the Leavises at Cambridge. Wilfrid and Dennis have quarrelled slightly, and Birch Moody is still in Africa. Is thinking of getting a job with a fashionable magazine. Is just about to meet the wife of the poet George Barker [Jessica Barker] and is meeting Djuna Barnes next week.
Excelsior Springs, Missouri.—Is sorry that Smith’s ‘old distress’ has returned, and criticises Father Reeves’s response. Has felt lethargic since returning to America, but Mac [McLuhan] is ‘even worse off’ and Corinne [McLuhan] has suffered a nervous collapse after a series of parties. Deplores the current patriotic mood in America and the attitude of the Church, as exemplified by Jim Farley and Father Coughlin. Is anxious for the arrival of his books. Would appreciate some guidance from Leavis about his career. Sends greetings to the Singletons, Father Gilbey, and the Leavises. Has received «Scrutiny» and is reading «Gil Blas». Dennis [Enright] is ‘going to Evesham to pick plums with students from Birmingham’ and Remi Preston is thinking of moving to Leamington. Asks how Godfrey [Lienhardt] and ‘the young man who was psychoanalyzed’ fared in their exams; Birch Moody did well, but Illingworth is in a panicky state. Looks forward to the publication of Smith’s book on Shakespeare. Will return to England when he can. ‘Christopher Dawson’s last piece in Scrutiny was really quite true, & Leavis’s constant talk about standards & intelligent living seems more important to me the more hopeless it becomes.’