I hope Mrs Slater2 is better, for your sake, and take care you don’t go down yourself. When I come, I will try to do the jobs you speak of.
I shall try to get the sequence of trains that brings me to L’boro by 10.15, if all goes well.
My best love till then. Philip
1 The first of Larkin’s monthly jazz reviews for the Daily Telegraph appeared on Saturday 11 February 1961.
2 Eva’s cleaner at the time.
2 March 1961
Postcard
[32 Pearson Park, Hull]
Thanks for your letter & card – I was sorry to hear Kitty had been ill, though my sorrow lessened somewhat on learning she hadn’t been too ill to attend Rosemary’s nonsense.1 Fine day here. I am going to see why my new spectacles hurt my eyes. I don’t think Mr Wood will be interviewed even!
Kingsley has been made a Fellow at Cambridge!!
—— Grrrrrrrrrrrr!!
Love P
1 A rehearsal of Hansel and Gretel.
7 March 1961
Ward 6 Kingston General Hospital
My dear old creature,
This is just a page to show I’m all right.1 The doctors can’t find anything wrong with me but they are going to do a lot of tests to see if they can find anything. I feel much better though still a bit dizzy, & my eyes hurt if I read much. I expect I shall be here all the week, and don’t look forward to the prospect. My fellow patients sound much worse than me.
Coveney (Cottingham 47181 – Needler Hall) is anxious to help if he can.2 He rang Monica (Leics 76060 – 8 Woodland Avenue) to tell her the news. I’ve been told by someone that my family plan to come here this weekend – this is very kind of you but it’s a long way, for a short time. Anyway, goodbye for a short time now. Sorry for all this.
Love as ever Philip
1 On 6 March 1961, Larkin collapsed during a library committee meeting and was rushed to Kingston General Hospital, where he remained until 17 March.
2 Peter Coveney was warden of Needler Hall, one of the university’s student residences.
10 March 1961
My dear creature,
Just thought I would send a line for the weekend, though I haven’t much to say. I still have a rather dizzy feeling, though the headache has gone. Nobody has paid any interest in me for a day or two now. I suppose as long as the nurses report I am all right the doctors concentrate on the poor people who are not all right.
I do most profoundly hope I get well & am allowed to depart, though I believe they have plans for a thorough examination of me before this happens.
My best wishes & love for the weekend,
Philip
12 March 1961
Ward 6 KGH, Hull
My dear old creature,
This is the first time my Sunday letter has been written/ in such surroundings, isn’t it. I don’t suppose it will be the last, either. Thank you for writing yesterday. It isn’t easy to know what to say at present. I am still undiagnosed, & most of my symptoms persist, though my temperature has gone down. I’m quite well looked after, & if I knew what was wrong with me & that it was nothing serious I shouldn’t be at all uncomfortable. As it is I can’t help worrying a little.
Visiting hours are 7.15–7.45 in the evenings, but (I think) 2.30 to 3.30 on Wednesdays & Sundays. I have had lots of visitors so far, everyone is most kind: my side table is crowded out with fruit & books. So please don’t send anything like that.
It looks a chilly day outside, windy too. It’s not too warm in here! I am in a small 4-bed ward, one empty, where there is a TV set.
In the event of your wanting news of me, someone at the Library (Hull 18960) will probably have seen me in the last 24 hours. Betty Mackereth is my secretary & wd report for you (between 9.30–5.30).
All love as ever
Philip
17 March 1961
Notecard1
Needler Hall, Cottingham, East Yorks.
My dear old creature,
This is just to say I have been discharged from hospital without much ceremony or interest.
I felt terribly shaky & panicky at first, & still have that sense of strain behind the eyes, but I am happier already & hope I have nothing to do now but get my specs altered & recuperate. Of course the hospital will want to see me.
My doctor says I mustn’t think of doing any work for three weeks.
I’m afraid this has been a worrying time for you: I’m so sorry. Everyone here has been very kind, & the Coveneys are being quite marvellous about letting me live here in their flat. Much love x x
Philip
1 Bunch of wild flowers (watercolour).
18 March 1961
Needler Hall, Cottingham, E. Yorks.
My dear old creature,
The Coveneys have gone out for the evening & I am left in with the cat, a beautiful and affectionate animal, marmalade colour. I thought I would just – oh dear, the cat has jumped up & is making it (he’s gone now) impossible for me to write – write a page to you. Today I’ve had another eye test, and my spare pair of spectacles have been sent to be altered, though there’s not necessarily anything wrong with them.1 I have, I think, moved a bit more confidently, though I still don’t feel completely well: still a bit swimmy in the head and strained in the eye. And a long way from coping with anything, like a ’bus ride or shopping!
My doctor suggested today whether in the interests of getting this period of waiting for a complete check up over I had considered going to London as a private patient, & having it done at a clinic or hospital there. He said he might be able to get me into such an establishment quite quickly, & it wd then be over. Please don’t interpret this as sending me to London as a serious case! It is just to shorten this trying period of waiting. I don’t know what to think. I should feel a bit lonely & scared in London, though Monica might come with me. Of course London wd be a good place for such a business, & better than Hull if by any chance any treatment were needed. But it is such a relief to get out of hospital I don’t feel like going into another one really, yet I mustn’t be silly, I suppose.
I didn’t really mean to start a second sheet, for I haven’t anything to say.2 […]
Very best love
Philip
1 It seems that Larkin’s collapse may have been precipitated by a misjudged optician’s prescription. See Colin Vize, ‘Larkin’s Refraction’, About Larkin 36 (April 2013), 23.
2 Despite his comment he went on to fill the recto of the second two-side sheet, and two-thirds of the fourth side.
25 March 1961
Needler Hall
My dear old creature,
I hope you all managed to get home safely yesterday, & that you didn’t feel too tired as a result of such a long journey. It was awfully good of you to come so far to see me. I welcomed your familiar faces!1 […]
I hope I didn’t leave you with an unduly depressed view of my condition. I tried to let you know all the various things that had been said & done, but the main thing to hang on to is that the doctors are still checking, not following a suspected symptom. […]
Thank you for coming to Hull and love to you & all the family. Philip
1 On 24 March Eva, Kitty and Walter had made the journey from Loughborough to Cottingham to visit him, returning the same day.
5 April 1961
Picture postcard1
[32 Pearson Park, Hull]
Just to remind you of your visit.2 Thank you for your letter: I’m glad you got back safely. It’s lovely & warm here today! No news from the hospital. Give my regards to Kitty. M. says don’t forget the curtains and the egg & sherry /!
All love,
Philip
1 St Mary’s Church, Cottingham.
2 Eva visited Philip over Easter (30 March–3 April), staying at the Fuchsias, a university-owned house in Cottingham.
11 April 1961
Fielden House
My dear old Creature,
Kitty will have told you most of my news, I expect, so I can’t add much at present. My tests will be repeated here, & then Sir R. B.1 will look at the results either at the end of this week or the beginning of next, & then pronounce his opinion. I was x rayed yesterday & shall have the E.E.G.2 again & an audiogram (for hearing) either today or tomorrow.
I have quite a comfortable room at the end of a corridor looking out onto St Philip’s Church and commanding a not very inspiring view of roofs & something called Empire House. My meals come in on a tray & I eat them on a table out of bed. They are nothing very special. Monica comes in every day and we do, or try to do, the Times crossword. Yesterday she brought some beautiful yellow roses but they have wilted during the night, isn’t it a shame.
I still feel peculiar, but no more peculiar than before. There isn’t much to do here but read, & this tends to strain my eyes, still the main symptom of trouble. Bob Conquest came in yesterday & brought me a book called “The Miseries of Human Life”, dated 1807. Actually it is very funny!3
With love as ever & always
Philip
1 Sir Walter Russell Brain, brain surgeon.
2 Electroencephalogram: recording the electrical activity in the brain.
3 Robert Conquest (1917–2015), historian and poet: best known for his works on Soviet history, including The Great Terror: Stalin’s Purges of the 1930s (1968). He had edited the anthology New Lines (1956) which featured Larkin. See note on the letter of 29 July 1956. Eva wrote on 13 April 1961: ‘I am trying to think who Bob Conquest is, for I have heard you mention him before.’
16 April 1961
Fielden House, Stepney Way, London E.1
My dear old Creature,
Thank you for your letter-card and for your encouragement – much needed yesterday, for a diversion was provided in the shape of infected and inflamed ears, wch called for codeine every 4 hours & sent my temperature up to 3 figures. I can’t but blame the Ear Dept. for this, since my ears were all right when I came in, & I feel very irritated. It’s a bit thick to be made ill. I was in a poor mood yesterday. Still, I suppose it stopped me brooding on the advent of Sir R. B. tomorrow & his dreaded verdict.
Monica came in yesterday, as she has done three times every day since I’ve been here, & brought a Cineraria in a pot. Or was it some flame coloured tulips? She has brought both. And Judy Egerton1 was also in and brought a mixture of yellow tulips & freesias. Stephen Spender called in on Friday & talked about his father & Lloyd George for the best part of an hour.
A nurse has just come in, & dressed both ears, so I hear but dimly, even dimmer than usual. The nurses are quite nice & kind. I fear there are some bad cases along the passage. Awful noises during the night – now stopped.
Do continue to spend time AND MONEY making yourself comfortable. If you don’t like sherry & eggs, just have the sherry. Oghoghogh.2
Well, think of me tomorrow morning. If there’s anything to say I’ll ring up Kitty at 7.30 in the evening. Will you be there?
All love Philip
c.11 p.m. Monday night 3rd programme – poem by me, new one.
12 noon – RB just been in – says wait for ears to clear up then another x ray. He seemed quite affable.
1 Larkin had first met Judy Egerton (1928–2012) in Belfast. She was now working as an art historian in London; see also n. 5, letter of 17 October 1954, above.
2 See Philip’s postcard of 27 May 1960.
1 June 1961
Dearest old creature,
Ghastly weather! Rain all day, & cold.
I have got over my tired feeling, but yesterday & today was much distressed by a sort of “anxiety condition” that made me unable to work or even go out with any confidence. I went to the doctor this afternoon, & he said he didn’t think it was anything to do with my faint (i.e. it wouldn’t lead to another) but was due to the strain of resuming work & being ill & all the rest of it. He gave me a new formidable green & yellow pill wch seems to have calmed me.
He did say, however, that he didn’t like my being on my own, as the effort of providing for myself was an additional burden.
Monica shd come tomorrow, & I’ll see how I get on over the weekend. In the meantime, don’t worry: I’m just having a Guinness. […]
Best best love Philip
25 June 1961
My dear old creature,
I was glad to hear you had returned safely from London, & had enjoyed being there. We tried to think how on earth you could have seen all the places you mentioned, & concluded in the end you must have been on a circular tour.
Our visit is not really proving as successful. The match for wch we have tickets on Monday1 rather collapsed yesterday, & what play there is on Monday seems certain to lead to a win for Australia. Thursday was quite an interesting day, but not a heartening one from the English point of view, Friday & Saturday were splendidly fine days, but we tended to waste them: today is equally fine, & I expect we shall waste it too. Our rooms are fearfully hot at night, & in general I am not really enjoying myself. Fine weather makes me unhappy.
However, I mustn’t sound too gloomy […]
Very best of love, Philip
1 England vs Australia Test Match at Lord’s.
27 June 1961
My dear old creature,
This is just to say that I have returned safely, and am back in my flat again. The visit to London got me down rather, partly by tiring me and partly by upsetting me inside by some germ or other. When Monica had gone on Monday I just went back to the hotel & dived into bed, where I spent the evening, reflecting on the awfulness of London. It’s so big & so hot & so expensive, everything is so complicated and confusing. I never leave it without a lifting of the spirits as we get among the fields and trees.
As I write this, I am hearing the tail-end of the installation of Archbp. Ramsey – how Daddy wd have disliked his voice!
I’m glad you approve of the photograph – a huge enlargement was awaiting me when I came in, too big to go in my album. I have one for you as well. Creature surrounded by flowers!1
Do hope you are well, and not worried by the weather.
My dearest love,
Philip
1 See Plate 15A. On 29 June 1961 Eva wrote: ‘I shall be thrilled with the enlargement of “me amongst the flowers”. Whilst on the subject of photographs I wonder if you could order me a copy of the photograph I saw on the mantelshelf (was it?) in your room at the library. The one of the Queen Mother signing the visitors book. Hope it isn’t too late.’
19 July 1961
Picture postcard1
Thanks for your letter. Blazing hot day today. Hope to swim later. Glad to hear you are coming to Hull in August. I shd think Aug 10th wd be quite all right! M. sends regards. Here you see our hotel – we are in the tin shed on the left. Love Philip
1 Dixcart Hotel, Sark.
24 September 1961
Haydon Bridge, Northumberland
My dear old creature,
I am sitting in Monica’s living-room on Sunday morning, having come over by bus from Hexham, wch is only about 20 minutes’ ride. It’s very sunny and warm, and has been ever since I came up on Friday evening, a journey wch took about 4 hours, through Newcastle.
I expect you’ll be wondering what “1a Ratcliffe Road”1 is like – well, it’s a tiny house, attached to others on both sides, with a fairly busy road outside the front door, and the river Tyne outside the back. It has living-room, kitchen downstairs, & two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. On the whole it’s in very good repair – the walls are so thi
ck you couldn’t hear the people next door if you wanted to. Monica is only half in, since the cooker & refrigerator have still to be attached, and the 100 gns carpet is coming on Tuesday, but she has borrowed a boiling ring & has an electric kettle. This Haydon Bridge place isn’t a picturesque village, exactly, nor is her cottage a picturesque cottage, but in general it has a good deal of character. It’s very well appointed – good bathroom & so on – and quite big enough for her. As usual I haven’t helped her at all.2 […]
Yesterday – Saturday – we took a bus to Allendale, wch is near at hand and very pretty. We strolled about & had a small tea – 1/- each! – and Monica had a mild fit of remorse that she hadn’t come to a really pretty village to buy her house, but after all it’s more inaccessible there, and might be more expensive. As a matter of fact, ’buses to Carlisle & Newcastle pass the door in either direction where she is, & there’s also a good train service.
I was glad to hear you had had an enjoyable trip to Dovedale & Matlock. […]
There are plenty of gulls on the Tyne outside, & I can hear them calling as I write. They aren’t our sort, though.3 […]
Love Philip
1 The holiday home which Monica had just bought in Haydon Bridge.
2 On 25 September Eva replied: ‘I was really anticipating your letter from Hexham with my “tongue hanging out” so to speak, and was most interested in all you described there. As you may know I have only had two ambitions in life, first to be a great author and the other, to have a little cottage in the country. Neither will ever now be realised.’
Philip Larkin Page 41
