Best love – Philip
1 Eva responded on 16 June: ‘I was very interested in all you wrote about Betty. When I first saw her I thought how serious, almost grim she was, but during the evening she relaxed and became quite gay and entertaining. She will enjoy seeing herself on T.V.’ She continued: ‘How is Maeve these days? and Monica, you have’nt [sic] mentioned her for some time.’
2 The cutting is lost.
26 August 1964
Picture postcard1
We are here today, having eaten our lunch in Sawrey, where Beatrix Potter’s house is. Nicer day, very warm (even close) – I hope you are enjoying yourselves & getting plenty of rest after lunch.
You wd enjoy some of the views here, though mist & cloud tend to obscure the bigger hills. I’m feeling tired as usual on holidays!
Love P
1 The Square, Hawkshead. Addressed to Sunnyville Hotel, Alexandra Road, Southport, Lancs., where Eva was on holiday with Nellie.
6 September 1964
Haydon Bridge
My very dear old creature,
This is just a quick note to say that I’ve got so far safely and expect to return to Hull tonight. The weather broke as we left and rained all the way home, very disagreeable, & my car developed a leak!!! It’s also cluttered up with numerous crumbs & a smell of apples, remnants of packed lunches.
We feel rather sad at the end of the holiday, wch has been successful and shown us a part of the country we didn’t know before.1 […]
I’ll send you a note to say I’m back, assuming I do complete the journey safely.
Very much love, in wch M joins,
Philip
1 Dentdale and Swaledale in Cumbria.
13 September 1964
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
Once again I am sitting in my bedroom in a patch of sunlight, embarking on my weekly task of “writing home”. I suppose I have been doing this now for 24 years! on and off, you know: well, I am happy to be able to do so, and I only hope my effusions are of some interest to you on all the different Monday mornings when they have arrived. I feel a bit out of practice at present, and my handwriting isn’t in consequence as steady as it might be.
From your saying that Kitty has invited you both to tea I conclude that “the Chelsea pensioner” is still with you.1 Is this a little longer than she meant to stay? I hope if so that it means you are enjoying yourselves. I made a feeble effort to get Kitty’s “handbag torch” for her birthday yesterday, but without any success: there seem to be pocket torches, some of them rechargeable, but they strike me as being rather large for a handbag. I don’t want to weigh her down with something she doesn’t want.
You’ll be amused to hear that I left my tweed hat at Cally, but it was sent on. What a disreputable old thing it is! I always leave something behind. It has been a strange week of re-acclimatisation, not really very pleasant: I find I don’t settle back to work at all happily. Betty seems cheerful & able to support my depression – she appears to be carrying on with a married lecturer in the Department of Sociology, wch no doubt raises her spirits & enables her to carry me. Every cloud has a silver lining! Not, I suppose, that she sees it as a cloud. People are trickling back, one by one – it really is awful, this prospect of another year’s work!2 And yet I’d sooner have it than not. I suppose my next “loathly bird”3 is a conference of librarians here4 the week after next – 22nd–26th, I believe. I hope the weather is reasonably fine for them. I don’t have to address them, apart from a few words of welcome when they come to see the Library, but I dread not having anything to show them. To make it worse, there are 11 Americans among them, and Americans have such wonderful libraries.
On Friday I spent a lot of time sorting out unneeded old clothes and made up a bundle wch Betty had offered to dispose of. Really, I don’t know how I got some of the things. It was a little sad unpicking the name tapes – mine & Daddy’s – wch you had sewn on years ago in your devoted way. What a good, dear old creature you are!5
Thank you for all your care. A lot of the things are too awful to go to a jumble sale, and I am hoping to sneak up to the university dustbins this afternoon & cram them in. I hope they don’t come home to roost in any way.
I don’t know whether to come home next weekend (Friday 18th) or not – I should like to come some weekend soon, but it’s not easy, with this conference in the wind. Perhaps I could let you know later in the week – I don’t mind a bit of dust about!
There won’t be anything in the London Mag. this month. T.W.W. is just being published in America – the U.S. ed. has a huge picture of me on the back, sitting by the sign “England”.
Best love to the C.P.6 & dearest love to you. xx P.
1 Nellie Day.
2 Eva replied on 15 September: ‘Fancy you leaving your tweed hat at Cally. What a good thing it was returned to you. I found a vest of yours here, and washed it this week. It looks quite a new one. / Am sorry that you feel depressed at the thought of settling down for another year’s work. Betty is very good, isn’t she! How I wish I had been born with an optimistic temperament – like A. Nellie! She is busy knitting, a little coat for her great/ grand daughter Denise. I hope she doesn’t find it too dull here, for I seem to always have something to do.’
3 The phrase describes the shantak, a ‘noisome and hippocephalic bird’ in The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath (1943) by H. P. Lovecraft.
4 Triply underlined.
5 In her letter of 15 September Eva wrote: ‘I was also much moved at the thought of you unpicking those name tapes and I felt somewhat sad, and overwhelmed by your kind words. / Sewing on name tapes, boning the meat and cutting off the bacon rinds were things which I was brought up to do.’
6 ‘Chelsea Pensioner’: Nellie.
22 October 1964
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My dear old creature,
Well, I am about recovered by now, Thursday evening – I still feel a bit aching in the back, but I no longer feel like drowning myself when I awake in the morning! Unfortunately, I still have a great deal to do.
I had much enjoyment from your letter this morning – you are funny about your face & hat! On the contrary, you have rather a nice rosy old face when it isn’t screwed up in anticipation of a storm. And you being suspicious of your hat!1
As if it was going to bite you, or get at your handbag.
I trailed in rather late in the mornings this week, which hasn’t been too bad, but now has broken up and cooled considerably. I put the car away at about nine this evening in the rain, & floundered into a puddle in the dark, very deep, very wet […]
On Saturday I go down to Swansea to stay two nights with Vernon Watkins – I am to try to get him to sell some manuscripts to the British Museum. I shall spend Monday getting back! So again, no letter – I may manage a card.
Love to all, especially you. Philip
1 In a letter of 20 October Eva had mentioned how her appearance in a photograph taken by Nellie’s son Kenneth had displeased her: ‘I don’t like my face at all! I look so plain and I realize that my hat does not suit me at all. I have been suspicious about it all the summer. You must pass your opinion about them when you next visit me.’
29 October 1964
Picture postcard1
8.30 a.m.
Just setting off by train I’m glad to say, but have had yr letter. Hope Kitty’s whine & jeers party goes well! It is dank & autumnal here. The Jerusalem Post (!) gave me a good review entitled “Toads At The Wedding”, wch amuses me highly – wd have called the book this had I thought! Now I must get train – back on Sunday.
Much love Philip
1 Kitten wearing a blue satin bow.
29 November 1964
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
Well, here I am back again, and as you will expect it has turned pretty chilly
in my absence, meaning another blanket on the bed & some warmer underclothes. What a beautiful autumn it’s been! How fond I am of mild days! I don’t look forward to the cold weather at all – but then I never do.
I have duly seen my film, going down to Ealing for the purpose: I found it interesting, but I doubt if anyone who didn’t know me or Hull would. It rather makes me the “poet of Hull” wch is silly, as I don’t really care about the place: in fact in retrospect most of my personal comments in the film sounded boring or silly. There’s some nice camera work while the poems are being read, though, & a wonderfully dramatic appearance by Betty. It still has to be cut, alas – it was for 28½ minutes, now I think it’ll have to be shortened to something like 20 – so some of what I saw you won’t. They seem to think it may be put on on Dec 151 – is that Tuesday? – but don’t believe anything until you see in the R. Times.
Afterwards I went with the producer & John Betjeman to the Ritz (!) for lunch. The room was pretty, but otherwise the experience was not remarkable.
I was glad to have your letter to take to London with me. Do you hold shares in Lloyds? I didn’t know. I don’t.
Every year I hate Christmas more & more – I just want to go into my burrow until it’s over – and this year looks like being worse than most. […]
Much love Philip
1 It was.
1 December 1964
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
Thank you very much for your “extra” letter wch I received yesterday – I thought I wd delay answering it until I had heard from Hexham. I now learn they can take me, so I shall go.1 I think we had better regard this year as a switch-round of the normal pattern – Christmas with you, Monica in January – and look forward to when you come here in January.2 It will be nice to have you here for your birthday – perhaps we can have “a few people in” (don’t groan!)
I think I shall very likely see you before then – at least I could spend the night of Friday Dec. 11th at home if you were kind enough to receive me.
I have a Conference in Nottingham Univy. on Saturday & Sunday (12 & 13) so shall be down this way. I have to rush home on the 13th as I have a publication committee on 14th here.
I think it would be a good idea if you & I came back here on January 1st (Friday) in order to be able to shop, & then I have this dinner on 2nd. I still haven’t made up my mind about the Coveneys’ Christening on 31 Dec. (in Nottingham). If I went to it I should have to come home on 30th Dec., I suppose. More of this later. I did appreciate the kind things you said in your letter, and of course this is not the Christmas I would have planned myself; nor do I feel happy about your being on your own then. I will try to make it up to you in January!
Please do not worry about it, though: I think it falls to me to look after you while Kitty & Walter are away, & I don’t want not to see Monica. That’s all. […]
Next Friday the Hartleys are coming round to settle up for The Less Deceived for the preceding year. I gather it is still selling at a copy a day! wch isn’t bad after nine years. […]
To keep warm just put on your big radiator full! I’ll send you a cheque when you are hard up.
With very best love, dear old creature. Philip
2 December 1964
This Bit First!
Like you, I doubt if I have expressed myself very well: reading what I wrote it seems a bit chilly! You know I’m not cross with you, & not really with K. & W., but I do feel bound to change my arrangements in consequence of the situation created by their holiday, & I don’t see why A. Nellie shd be bothered. Whatever I do will hurt someone. It’s all very difficult.
Monitor will be on on Dec. 15th.3
Love, d.o.c.
Philip
1 Philip had inquired about booking a hotel in Hexham for his visit to Monica in the New Year. Walter and Kitty, however, had decided to take a skiing holiday in Switzerland after Christmas, which would leave Eva on her own at that time. Philip felt under pressure to change his arrangements so as to be with her then. On 15 November he wrote to Eva: ‘I think this holiday of Kitty’s presents a problem – it puts me in a position of having to neglect either you or Monica.’ His proposal was that he should holiday with Monica at Christmas and visit Eva afterwards while Kitty and Walter were away. On 18 November he wrote: ‘I should dearly love not to come home for Christmas, just as a reprisal (& to get out of that frightful tea).’
2 In her ‘extra’ letter (29 November) Eva reproached Philip for not intending to visit her over Christmas: ‘My real object in writing is to say how very sorry indeed we shall all be if you cannot see your way to come for Christmas. When Kitty mentioned it to Walter & Rosemary that you might not come, they were very sad. Kitty said last night that when Walter first mentioned the holiday, he thought vaguely that A. Nellie would perhaps come here, or I should go there. He did not dream of hurting your feelings in any way … Do you think I should ask her? / The other alternative would be for me to stay here on my own while K. & W. were away, if you changed your mind and came.’
3 Doubly underlined.
3 December 1964
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
How kind of A. Nellie to offer, but this all complicates things even more, doesn’t it?1 It makes my arrangements seem rather silly. I don’t know what to say. I acted quickly because of the hotel. I still feel W. should have given some thought for you & those who might be expected to keep you company.
I find it exceedingly hard to know what to do for the best! Certainly it wd be easier to cancel Hexham, but I feel a little committed there now. And what do you feel? Wch destination would seem more fun in January?
Friday Very late & tired – yesterday killed me. Many thanks for your letter – let us brood on it a little longer. Like you, I am scared of the weather!
How strange about the butterfly. What a wonderful experience. I must always remember it.2 Don’t you remember what one caterpillar said to the other as a b’fly flew overhead? “They’ll never get me up in one of those things.”
Love as ever
Philip
1 In a lettercard dated 1 December Eva wrote: ‘This is a hurried note, really a S.O.S.!! I have had a surprise letter from A. Nellie this morning in which she asks if I am fixed up for the time when K. & W. go away. They offer to have me if I would like to go, although she says she cannot promise me a calm placid visit for over there it always seems hectic.’
2 In a follow-up letter to the S.O.S. lettercard, also dated 1 December, Eva wrote: ‘I must tell you a strange thing which happened to me in church last Sunday morning. I was sitting in the pew (the only occupant) when I felt something hit the top of my hat and before I had time to investigate this unusual assault something bounced off my hat onto my lap. I was amazed to see that it was a beautiful butterfly! I gently picked it up and placed it on the ledge of the pew. It stayed there for some little time, I really think it was stupefied, and I was wondering whether to put it in my handbag and take it home after the service and find it a sheltered nook somewhere in the garden, when it flew away across the church. What puzzled me was that there should be a butterfly about at this season. I thought they all turned into caterpillars at the end of the summer or something like that. (Have looked up butterflies in the encyclopaedia & find it is the caterpillar which turns into butterfly.)’
6 December 1964
32 Pearson Park, Hull
My very dear old creature,
[…] Regarding your butterfly, there was by coincidence a paragraph about butterflies in winter in the Telegraph on Saturday. Apparently they like cold – isn’t that odd, when they are summer creatures? I’ll send the cutting if I can find it.1
It seems they eat sugar or honey. I didn’t know they lived through the winter.
I expect you are still worrying about Christmas, as I am. The only drawbacks about you coming here 1–11 January are that y
ou would be alone for Christmas, & that bad weather might upset me in Hexham where I should be. If you came here I would fetch you on, say, 1 Jan., & take you back at some time suitable to myself. I don’t want you to be unhappy at Christmas, dear old creature – wd you be? No doubt K. & W. wd do something to cheer you up. You sound as if you aren’t too keen on going to Hyde.
Anyway, I shall be coming home on Friday, I hope, & we can talk about it then. Having made the Christmas suggestion to Monica it might disappoint her if I withdrew it now. We’ll see. I haven’t had any comments from her, but I’m sure she won’t want to influence me either way. She never does!
I hope things are going well. I dreamed about you & Daddy the other night – You were dead & Daddy was alive. Tomorrow night is the University S.C.R. Christmas dinner – I tried to get a new dress suit for it, but there wasn’t time – the trousers of the old one are too tight! Funny how one’s clothes shrink over the years. It is quite a jolly occasion, but I shall have to keep sober this year as for the first time I shall have my car.
Fancy, you going to Church. I sometimes think I should like to – there was a fascinating programme on the wireless on Saturday about how people imagined God. I wish you had heard it. Now I must write a card to Monica. The Hartleys came on Friday (they departed in the small hours) & left me £135. Good old Less Deceived.
Love Philip
1 Larkin encloses a press cutting: ‘NATURE NOTES: Butterflies prefer the cold.’
22 December 1964
Philip Larkin Page 46
