Letters to a Sister (5 page)

Are you following ‘Where are the Dead?' in the
Daily News?
They've none of them yet answered the question.
³⁴
I am thinking of writing to them to say I know where the dead are, and will tell for a high enough fee.

Very much love.
   
E.R.M.

10, St Andrew's Mansions, Dorset St, W.1
28 June, [1928]

Dearest Jeanie,

Our letters crossed the other day; I suppose telepathy worked. Many thanks for yours. This is a supplement to mine, to answer your questions as to (a) how I am (b) where the dead are.

(a) My health is excellent. I've no bad symptoms of anything, and haven't fainted for ages.

(b) I can't imagine where the dead can be. As it seemed that the
Daily News
writers could not imagine either, and never said (except the R.C.,
³⁵
as you say, and I knew already what he would think) I gave up the
D.N.
I can imagine what Robert Lynd would have said (if he's said it yet).
³⁶
He would say they are in heaven. He is a kindly man, and is also almost the only layman I know well (except R.C.s) who believes in
survival after death. At least, he gives it the benefit of the doubt. I couldn't even guess, myself. I should like very much to believe in it, but am not able to, so am divided between wish and actual belief. I couldn't possibly have written about it. I feel I really agree with Sir Arthur Keith and Julian Huxley and the other scientists,
³⁷
but would so much rather think we somehow go on that I don't like to write about it.

Very much love.
   
E.R.M.

10, St Andrew's Mansions, Dorset St, W.1
10 November, 1928

Dearest Jeanie,

... The
Well of Loneliness
case yesterday was quite amusing.
³⁸
Half literary London had turned up, by request, as well as social workers, clergy, teachers, etc. to say what they thought of the book, but the magistrate
³⁹
ruled out their evidence as inadmissible, as he said it was his business alone to decide whether or not the book was immoral. So only a Police Inspector gave evidence, and Desmond MacCarthy, the first literary witness called, wasn't allowed to speak, and all the talking was done by the lawyers and the magistrate. I enclose what I had written,
⁴⁰
when asked my view of the book by letter. They sent me this copy of it, so that I should remember to say the same in court, but I was glad I didn't have to. For one thing, with the author sitting in the court, it would have seemed rude to say this, but I should have wanted to say it,
so as not to seem to be supporting the book at all on literary grounds. No-one but the lawyers for the defence (and the author) admire it as literature, I imagine. My only reason for consenting to give my opinion was that it is definitely not ‘obscene' in any sense, and that it is rather important that the police should not be able to destroy books on their own ill-considered judgment. I mean, there
is
pornographic literature, and pictures etc., I believe, which are watched for and destroyed continually in England (though unfortunately they do a free trade in France); and it is absurd to confuse with these an ordinary quite respectable book, merely because it deals (quite without impropriety) with the subject of unnatural relations. So little is it indelicate that one lawyer
⁴¹
took the line (though he abandoned it later) that the friendship between the women was merely intellectual. However, obviously he had been better instructed by the author over lunch, for after lunch he retracted this.

The book doesn't mention any physical harm coming from the relationship. Does it actually? I wonder why. I know nothing about these people really, or what kind of terms they are on with each other—extremely silly is the only thing it seems to me, but no doubt they lead some kind of queer life outsiders don't know anything about, among themselves. Anyhow, I do feel this book is a warning, as I said in my Opinion.

Julian Huxley, as a scientist, is to be allowed to witness. He quite approves of the book, I believe.
⁴²
So does the Rev. Mr Fry, the rather nice little clergyman who married Sheila Kaye-Smith.
⁴³
But it
is
a silly and tiresome book. I wish they didn't go on in court as if it was a great piece of literature.

People
are
silly about books.
⁴⁴
I am reading a paper to-morrow at Cambridge
⁴⁵
about Literary Tastes and Standards, from the earliest times up to now.

I have obviously roused a hornets' nest by my
Daily Mail
article on ‘What I Dislike'.
⁴⁶
I enclose two angry anonymous letters. How wonderful people are, aren't they. They must think I have a lot of influence. I like the pink one best, the opening is so good. She obviously thinks not liking cats is an Unnatural Vice. Also I enclose an explanation by someone of why I don't like cats, which may be correct…

Very much love.
   
E.R.M.

10, St Andrew's Mansions, Dorset St, W.1
23 November, 1928

Dearest Jeanie,

... I was quite hurt about your thinking I don't attend in church. Of course I know there is religious teaching in church services, but what I mean is, it's not definite or detailed enough. I mean, talking about new hearts and clean hands and love and charity etc. is not enough. What my ideal church would have is explicit teaching about what we are to do to express these things, and would suggest lots of ways, such as visiting so-and-so in the parish who is ill, giving money to this or that cause, being honest in business, kind to relations, avoiding unkind gossip, parents not nagging children, children being considerate to parents, telling the truth, working hard, not being vulgar or nasty, etc. etc. I mean, all detailed and concrete, instead of leaving general admonitions
to people to interpret for themselves which may be all right for educated and intelligent people, but is too difficult for the simple and unimaginative. If you have prayers about these things in your new church, I shall approve, and I hope the lantern slides will point the morals,
⁴⁷
and
not
be just Bible pictures, which I feel sure are quite out of date as moral instruction. Here is a little book I got about the Church by Dr Major,
⁴⁸
but it seems rather commonplace. Don't send it back…

Very much love.
   
E.R.M.

24 March, [1929]

Dearest Jeanie,

I am just back from Petersfield, and keeping Margaret's birthday. We read the poem about ‘Seven times',
⁴⁹
as she was 7 times 7 to-day, but the lady in the poem had been very unfortunate, and had lost her husband and
all
her children and was bewailing an empty nest and looking towards her end. M. is luckier. But I always thought that woman had a discontented nature. She was happy at 7 x 1, but at 7 x 2 was pinning all her hopes on the future instead of enjoying her birthday; she was tolerably cheerful (being excited by love) at 7 × 3, but more or less worried by 7 × 4, and a miserable widow at 7 × 5, and at 7 × 6, when she was getting a daughter married, she could only think how she had given up all and was now losing her child and getting no thanks...

I've just written, to oblige Mr Duncan-Jones, an article on
‘A Church I should like if it existed', for his new magazine.
⁵⁰
It has wheels, and roves about the countryside from one beautiful scene to another, according to weather and seasons, so that it always commands a nice view and attractive sounds and scents from outside (besides the incense inside). Don't you think this is a good idea? And really stimulating preachers, lay and clerical, not allowed to refer to early Jewish history, but always dealing with ethics and problems of the present moment and the individual person. And lovely music, and very good windows and Early English (i.e. lancet) architecture, about 1250 in date.

‘The Leaders of Thought' (including me) have been writing in an Evening Paper
⁵¹
on Hell. Shall I send you the Series? They are not very enlightening, I fear.

26 March, [1929]

Dearest Jeanie,

… Here is… my article in the Hell series.
⁵²
The Ideal Church one isn't out yet. You are wrong about your preachers being so absorbing that you wouldn't notice what the church was like; they wouldn't be preaching (I hope) all the time, and you would have a lot of the prayers-and-reading-aloud-time to look about in. It would be no good finding a car outside, as this would take you away from the church, whereas my moving church would provide changing scenes of beauty while you worshipped. I believe in sensation as a stimulus to religious feeling: hence incense and music. You provide the food for thought, and then the emotional stimulus to make

people more inclined to act on the thoughts they have had. I have laid great stress on first-rate preaching in my church. I am inclined to think that bad and stupid and useless preaching is one of the worst faults in all churches as it is. My preachers (clerical & lay) would be a carefully trained body of thoughtful and intelligent and eloquent people, all morally keen, and all trained to use the voice skilfully…

Very much love.
   
E.R.M.

Heathlands,
⁵³
Petersfield
5
May, 1929

Dearest Jeanie,

I came here on Friday, and am staying till Tuesday… I am quite recovered. Dr R——
⁵⁴
took me on Friday morning to a heart specialist, to be examined and electrocardiographed—i.e. you have your heart's motions photographed by an electric machine. The specialist examined my heart and said it was a poor kind—‘a low-grade, C3, tubular heart with a rough patch', probably damaged by past bronchitis. All I can say is that if mine is like that, what must a high-grade,
A1,
globular heart be like? I should probably, if I had that, be like Grandpa in the Kruschen advertisements, leaping over pianos. No doubt it is as well to know what kind of heart one has, but I don't feel it makes much practical difference to me. Dr R. said that when I come back they would give me a Rule of Life, but I expect it will be a very foolish one and not to be taken much notice of. Really I can do all I want with my heart as it is, so I shan't bother about it. The specialist said don't get tired except when necessary. I shall take this as a pretext for not doing things that tire me, except when I want to. Doctors have their uses…

10, St Andrew's Mansions, Dorset St, W.1
24 July, 1929

Dearest Jeanie,

Very many happy returns of the day. The day we turn 47 is a very significant day in our lives. So is the day we turn 48, I believe, but shall know more as to this next week. I am making a lot of new resolutions, such as to organise my life better, thus getting more done that I really think is worth doing, and not to mind being rude by leaving letters unwritten. It has taken me nearly 48 years to learn that both to answer letters and to do anything else in life without too much strain is impossible, so the letters (outside 3 or 4 people including the family) must go, and postcards take their place in future. Heaven grant me strength of mind to pursue this course! Or else I must keep a secretary, who will deal with correspondence. I hope you have made some equally useful plans…

Very much love,
   Your loving twin
⁵⁵
,
E.R.M.

During the winter of 1929 Rose and Margaret visited America.
They joined their brother Will on the West Coast, and then
shared in a motoring holiday to the South-West and Mexico,
returning by way of Florida and the South.

Nearly at Portland [Oregon]
8 December, [1929] 6.0 p.m.

Dearest Jeanie,

We are in the last lap of our train journey, and shall meet Will and the car at Portland, Oregon, at 7.35. Wonderful
thought, to have all converged on Portland from so far and actually to be meeting there. The train journey has been splendid—such marvellous scenery ever since we got up into the Rockies, and across the Divide and down the western slopes, where the snow & frost has changed to mild English rain, which I hope won't go on after today, though they all say the North-West is perishing of drought, and needs it. I expect Margaret has told you about our crossing (rather trying, on the whole, tho' not too bad) and New York, where we spent one night; what I liked best there was the beautiful Jamaican hotel-boy, who told us he was a British subject, and about the ‘tropic splendour' of Jamaica. We didn't have time to see anything of N.Y., as we got there very late, and were kept hours by the Immigration Officers questioning us all as to why we had come, how much money we had (he didn't think much of what M. and I had, but said he supposed we should help each other out) etc. etc. Luckily we passed the judgment; some were turned back and told to go to Ellis Island. Fortunately all his searching enquiries failed to reveal any reason why we shouldn't land (we said we did no work, which disarmed him and prevented his suspecting us of competing with American workers in any field). I didn't feel safe till we were off the boat. The train journey has been very agreeable; the people are very charming, and the black Pullman porters delightful. Our Pullman was rather Fundamentalist on the whole; it had a loquacious minister, who once, it seemed, had ‘lived in sin', but now quite the contrary, ever since the Lord had spoken to him while he was getting theatre tickets at a box office and said ‘Touch not the unclean thing'. Since then he hasn't. He and his wife were having a dispute about dancing with some other passengers, who thought it comparatively innocent. The minister condemned it utterly, and said that 90% of the criminals in the U.S. gaols attributed their downfall to dancing, according to a recent questionnaire. It must obviously be prison etiquette to put that, when asked such a foolish and impertinent question.