19 January 1959
My dear old creature,
This Sunday morning I am listening to the sound of my own voice again, for my record has arrived and will be going out to subscribers in the next few days. It is not too bad, but as the tape editor warned us there are a number of distracting noises in the background which to my mind rather spoil it. The sleeve is quite handsome. I don’t think I read at all well, but I manage to get it all out somehow. Last night I went to Hartley’s & signed them all. You will probably see it reviewed by J. W. Lambert in the Sunday Times one of these Sundays.
Today is misty and chilly, but the hard frost has gone & the packed snow and ice everywhere is melting. There are large dreary-looking pools on the Park. I have nothing to do today till this evening, when I’m going to a jazz concert at the huge Town Hall – well, nothing to do, I say: plenty of cleaning-up & letter-writing & bed-changing, plenty of that! Last Sunday I went out a walk after lunch, walking out westwards till I got clear of the suburbs and could trudge along in the half-country along frozen streams and snowy lanes. The sun was low and shone fierily on the snow. As dusk fell & I was approaching Cottingham it began to snow quite thickly & I was glad to get [to] the square & catch the ’bus home!
[…]
My very best love, dear old creature,
Philip
1 March 1959
My dear old Creature,
[…] I hear in a roundabout way that Kingsley finds the United States very expensive & is looking forward to coming home. He doesn’t write to me of course! Hilly writes to a wife of a friend who tells a friend who tells me. He could never manage even a little money, so a lot is no doubt worse. […]
Yes, I hope you will live to a ripe old age! I hope we all shall! Nothing like being alive!
Now I shall give my sofa a good brush. It is looking rather sad.
Very best love,
Philip
29 May 1959
Lettercard
Hull
My dear old creature,
[…] I am scribbling this in the G.P.O., so it won’t have the calm of my usual notes.
Great surprise – yesterday Who’s Who sent for my details! This pleased me mightily. Pop never got in Who’s Who.1 I am glad you liked the poem.
Weather dry here but not unduly warm. Monica is coming for the weekend. I go to London on Monday for 2 nights.
All love
1 In the next letter, 31 May, Larkin mentions that most of his friends ‘are in already, but it’s nice to be included’ and tells Eva that he had given ‘as my recreations “resting”!’
28 June 1959
My dear old creature,
Things have seemed somewhat out of joint during the last few days, & indeed to be writing to you at 1.30 on Sunday instead of earlier (and I haven’t had lunch) indicates a departure from routine. Principally, yesterday was degree day, when we spend the morning in the City Hall watching the students get their degrees; then after lunch there was a mangy garden party. I had lunch with Coveney in the town, & supper at a Chinese restaurant in the evening; after that we went to see Room at the top, but it was so bad we came out halfway through.1 He came home with me & remained till about 12.30 a.m. Now that his marriage is less than a month off, he is somewhat uneasy and doesn’t like being left alone, like a man under sentence of execution.
On Thursday I had the Duffins & the Johnsons in for drinks & coffee:2 I gave them cucumber & lettuce sandwiches, fancy cakes, and strawberries and cream to finish with. I think they liked it all right, but it left me with indigestion that kept me awake all night, long after dawn had broken. I managed to be sick about 4, but it didn’t seem to put things right. I expect I’d gobbled rather & been nervous. Next day I didn’t feel so bad as I’d expected.
The weather is still warm, but more overcast, windy & inclined to showers. I can’t recollect any storms apart from a rumble now and again – certainly no lightning. I haven’t bought the refrigerator, but on the whole food keeps well enough – the bacon goes musty but nothing else to speak of.3
When I was in London I noticed several hats modelled on the mob cap – they are fashionable just now and are certainly not unlike what I draw. I do wish you could get one.4
Perhaps you have thrown away last week’s Sunday Times by now – or perhaps Kitty wd point out to you the article under “Atticus” asking whom should we send to America to represent British culture. D. Powell5 suggested me. I doubt if should represent it very well. Anyway, there’s not much likelihood of my going.
I’m glad you have got the sweep over. I shall be glad to come next weekend, on Friday. How is your mangle, I wonder. I have started boiling handkerchiefs, for the laundry leaves them the colour of old ivory. Unfortunately when I put them to dry on the clothes rack they absorbed a yellowish stain from the wood & I had to do them again! There is a second lot cooking now. I hope I can iron the first lot satisfactorily.
Sun is shining now. I must have lunch – found a big slug in my lettuce recently!
All love Philip
1 A 1959 film based on the novel by John Braine, directed by Jack Clayton and starring Laurence Harvey, Simone Signoret, Heather Sears, Donald Wolfit, Donald Houston and Hermione Baddeley. It was nominated for six Academy Awards.
2 His neighbours in the flats below.
3 On 26 April he had written: ‘I feel I am very near buying a refrigerator, & wonder if you wouldn’t do well to have one.’
4 On 30 June Eva added a postscript to her letter: ‘You amused me over the mob cap hats. I could easily get one from John, but if it is only to wear in the house for a joke, it would be a bit extravagant!’
5 Dilys Powell (1901–95) wrote film and literary reviews for the Sunday Times for over fifty years.
12 July 1959
My dear old creature,
Last night I “entertained” again, on a minor scale – the Hoggarts (he is shortly to go to Leicester, to become a colleague of Monica’s),1 who had to go early to another party, and of course the Hartleys, who didn’t go till at least 2 a.m., & then only when ordered out. In consequence I am rather late this morning, and a trifle sandy about the eyes, and there is a sink of washing up waiting to be done, and a lot of ash on the carpet, and all that. George gave me about £19 in notes, to enable me to escape paying income tax.
[…]
All love from
Philip
1 Richard Hoggart was a staff tutor at the University of Hull from 1946 to 1959, publishing The Uses of Literacy in 1957. He was appointed a senior lecturer in English at the University of Leicester in 1959.
30 August 1959
My dear old creature,
I expect you are feeling a somewhat flat old creature this morning with A. Nellie gone. It was nice to have such a long letter from you on Thursday and to have some idea what Hunstanton was like.1 I’m sure you relished having the weather forecast every morning with your tea – that must have been worse than being at home.
I’m afraid that this week I just FORGOT your card on Friday; I’m very sorry about this, but I am so busy at present from morning till night that I must have had a lapse of memory – I remembered it in the evening when it was too late, of course.2 The building is nearly finished – the men are working all day today & night, so that we can start moving tomorrow morning at 8.30 a.m. This week the cleaners have been trying to work in the building for 3 hours a day, but I’m afraid that much of their work is undone by the men almost immediately.
The part that is causing most trouble is the stack – two decks of 8' steel shelving, with innumerable lights and so on to be fixed. It does really look lovely at present, with “candy pink” end panels on the ground floor & “forgetmenot” blue ups
tairs, the shelves being light grey in each case. Miss Wrench said she couldn’t sleep on Friday night for thinking about it (I had taken them round on Friday for their final instructions). For the next 3 weeks we shall be getting in at 8.30 every morning to start with the workmen, so think of me with my alarm clock going at 7!
Forgive this jabber about work: it just fills my mind at present. I went round this morning & found them all hard at it. […]
Very best love, P.
1 On 1 September Eva replied: ‘You were quite right in thinking that I should feel a “flat old Creature” after A. Nellie’s departure. Breakfast on Monday seemed very wanting and the house is lonely without her cheerful presence. However, I feel I acquitted myself very well in the way I “locked up” each night and particularly when we left for Hunstanton. (pronounced Hunstan’) If A. Nellie had stayed a few more weeks I feel I should have been “cured”. Not that she helped me do it, but it just seemed to sink into secondary importance, and I omitted doing all the unnecessary things I do when on my own.’
2 In her letter of 1 September Eva wrote ‘Well, Creature, after reading about the hectic time you had in the new library, I am not surprised that you forgot my card. Of course I missed it, and many were the conjectures concerning it.’
3 September 1959
My very dear old creature,
It was so nice to get your letter: I didn’t in fact find it till this evening, as I am leaving the flat at about 8.15 these mornings! “The Move” has started. The entire library staff is engaged in packing all our books in 3-foot boxes (100 of them) wch are then loaded by removers onto a van and taken to the new library, where they are loaded on trolleys and wheeled to the new shelves. We are doing about 10,000 books a day, & it will last about 2–3 weeks. My new photographer is taking pictures of it (with my camera) so you will get an idea of it when you see them. […]
Happy weekend old creature & all love Philip
5 September 1959
My dear old creature,
[…] I am rather proud of the way the move has gone. It has been an awful job – of course, it is only half finished at present – and involves moving what I guess to be 250 tons of books! And since each has to be lifted 5 times before it reaches its new home, that means we are employed in shifting 1250 tons! The Hull Daily Mail is coming on Monday & I shall tell him this. Next week the furniture comes, wch will be an added stimulus. We are due to open to readers on Sept. 21.
Well, my head is full of all this, as you can imagine, pretty well to the exclusion of everything else, but I’ll rake round in my brain to see what else is there. I don’t think much has happened since I wrote on Thursday night. I have begun to buy local farm eggs from a shop near at hand – they are 6 for 2/7½d – is that cheap or dear? I eat them with the horn egg spoon Monica bought me in Orkney. […]
Very best love Philip
13 September 1959
My dear old creature,
[…] By the way, the Library has a cat at the moment! The workmen took in a poor stray cat, & it actually had kittens in the basement, but now the workmen are gone & the cat & two kittens are left. I really don’t feel we can keep it, but there is [a] strong cat lobby in the Library (led by Miss Wrench) who claim that there are mice already built in (the cleaners support this) and that a cat is necessary. I don’t know what to do. The kittens are too young to be moved yet. Quite a problem!1
Hope you are mastering the locking up and feeling in the best of creaturely spirits.
All love,
Philip
1 Eva replied on 15 September: ‘Of course, I had to read the bit out about the stray cat to Kitty & Rosemary. I do hope you will keep it, although it may be a bit of trouble, especially if it has many lots of kittens. Do see that it is fed. It will want extra sustenance whilst it is feeding it’s [sic] kittens. Are you getting extra milk for it? If there are / mice in the library it will soon frighten them away not to mention any it may catch.’
26 September 1959
My very dear old creature,
[…] I am sure the element of promising in your planned Christian giving1 is because of the recovery of tax. Remember the widow’s mite!
It’s an awkward situation when one is asked for money in respect of some belief. Samuel Butler said we should not be so ready to pick a fly out of the milkjug if we thought it was likely to ask us for £5! Still, I think you’re right to make sure you don’t become a charge! It’s nice to think of you with a full coal cellar, ready for the dripping days of autumn – but I wish you had a good hot gas fire & no work or mess!2
I hope I can come home some weekend – 10th, 17th? Love as always,
P
1 Eva had written on 22 September: ‘The chief excitement here is this “planned giving scheme” for the churches. I have received a letter saying that £21,000 given over the next three years is the minimum target. A Parish Dinner is to be given next month free, at which the aims of the programme will be explained in detail. We are asked to attend and to keep an open mind until we have heard all about it. / Did you ever know anything so fantastic! I don’t think I shall go to the dinner and I’m not going to promise to devote a regular fixed sum to the income of the church. […] I want to give when I feel like it, and what I like to give.’
2 In her letter of 22 September Eva had written: ‘I am glad to say I have got my coal shed filled ready for winter and coke ordered also.’
28 September 1959
My dear old creature,
I went to work today, and apart from feeling rather gutless in the legs was all right. But I am glad I haven’t gone to London and Exeter.
As a matter of fact I had a very good day yesterday! I was taken on the Humber by a chap called Binns1 in his yacht, and as the day was fine and warm it was really delightful cruising up and down. Binns let the net down but caught nothing but a tiny crab. A friend of his showed us four boxes of fish he had caught, & gave us a few. I took one home for tea & fried it in butter, and it was very good.
It was very nice to have your letter this morning. The cutting about the library sounds like a mad undertaking, but I expect it will look well after Completion. You really must come and see mine before long!
I’m sure I’m quite well now, so don’t ponder.
With all love:
Philip
1 Alan Binns was a specialist in Old Norse in the Hull English Department. He lived on the estuary at the village of Paull, where he had mooring rights for his ocean-going boat. He was an adviser on the 1958 film The Vikings starring Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis, and took a small role as a priest intoning medieval Latin.
4 October 1959
My dear old creature,
[…] I am pretty well restored to health now, and face the week rather grimly – term starts, & there is my party on Monday, & my “short talk” on Wednesday.1 Think of me between 6 and 8 tomorrow evening, bowing & scraping in the Library & drinking sherry. After 8 we shut the doors & hold our own party! I have ordered a lot of drink & the girls are doing the food. I hope we shall not be too tired to enjoy it. I doubt if these departmental parties are ever wholly enjoyable: I shall have to be careful not to be too well – or too badly-behaved. I shan’t enjoy the sight of Wood drinking drink I have paid for! Stupid little gaping ape.
Then there is my “short talk” gibber gibber gibber. Think of me at 2.30 or so on Wednesday. […]
You will be sorry to hear “our” cat was run over on Friday night. It was very much a roaming kind of cat & must have tried to cross the busy road once too often. Of course this solves the problem of whether or not to allow it to stay: it would have been a liability and a nuisance & yet I shrank from the thought of sending it to be killed.
I doubt if it was a very loving cat, but Mary is rather upset.2 […]
My love to all, especially you!!
Philip
1 The Librarian’s introductory address to all new students.
2 Eva wrote on 6 October: ‘Oh dear! I was so very sorry to know that the pussy had met with such a sad fate. I thought about her quite a lot and hoped someone would always remember to feed her, particularly at week ends. What has become of the kittens? However I hope the pussy is happier now, at least it won’t be a stray any more. Do cats have souls, do you think?’
1 November 1959
My dear old creature,
[…] Monica is very unhappy at present, really awfully low. I think I may go and see her the weekend after this one – is that your London weekend? Nov 14–15? I think she is afflicted by the loss of her mother, the “difficultness” of her father, & her work all together.1 I think she should get time off, but of course then she wd have to go home, wch wd be still as harrowing.2
Oh dear, I haven’t drawn a single creature. Never mind: here’s a small one.
Love Philip
1 In late 1959 both Monica Jones’s parents fell ill, and her mother died on 11 October. Her father was seriously ill and died in the second week of December.
2 On 3 November Eva wrote: ‘I am very sorry to know that she is so depressed and un-happy. I can quite understand how she feels. She must feel the loss of her mother terribly. It is so sad to know that she will not be at home to welcome her any more. Couldn’t she go for a little time to any of her relatives, perhaps an Aunt? Perhaps that would not make her feel any better, though. Really I think / that Time is the only healer. Your mention of her Father and his “difficulties” reminds me of the trouble I had with Grandad after Grandma died. You may remember that I found it most difficult to leave him at Leigh, he was really pathetic.’
Philip Larkin Page 38
