HENRY MILLER

THE BOOKS
IN

MY

LIFE

NEW DIRECTIONS BOOK

Pts)

1123460
All rights reserved

New

Directions

Books
at

NEW YORK
'

OFFICE

are published

Norfolk,

333

by James Laughliti

Connecticut

SIXTH AVENUE,

NEW YORK

Printed in the Republic of Ireland

TO

LAWRENCE CLARK POWELL

(Librarian of the University of California at Los Angeles)

This

is

the

first

of a several-volume work. Included in the

second volume will be a

recall

list

of

all

the books

Henry Miller can

having read. There will also be an index of

references in

Henry

Miller's works.

all literary

CONTENTS
pages

Preface

II

I.

They were Alive and They Spoke TO

3.

Early Reading

Me

22

40

3.

Blaise Cendrars

58

4.

Rider Haggard

81

5.

Jean Giono

100

6.

Influences

121

7.

Living

8.

The Days of

9.

Books

127

My

140

Life

Krishnamurti

147

10.

The Plains of Abraham

160

II.

The Story of

12.

Letter to Pierre Lesdain

196

13.

Reading in the Toilet

264

14.

The Theatre

287

My

Heart

172

Appendix

The Hundred Books

Books
Friends

Still Intend

Who

317

to Read

Supplied

Me

with Books

320
321

LIST OF

Henry Miller

in

ms

ILLUSTRATIONS
Frontispiea

Studio
facing

Blaise Cendrars

page

6i

The Xerxes Socibty

126

The Miller Family

288

QUOTATIONS FROM WRITERS

**

All

have written

now

appears to

me

much

as so

(Thomas Aquinas on

"When
no longer

when

All

is

he has always the resource

marvellous for the poet,

;

the faney

thoughts are no longer apprehended, and

all is

to live.**

Waldo

(Ralph

great for the hero

straw."

deathbed.)

when

the artist has exhausted his materials,

paints,

books are a weariness

**

his

Emerson.)

divine for the saint,

all is

all is

wretched, miserable, ugly and bad for the

base and sordid souL"

(Amiel.)

" Probably, even in our time, an

knew

that anything short

with or without

trial

artist

work

considerably stimulated and his

might find

powerfiilly

his

imagination

improved

if

he

of his best would bring him to the gallows,

by jury ..."
(Henry Adams.)

"

me

Apr^

avoir pris

un an de vacances

un peu voyager en

marier,

Angleterre, Belgique, soigner

mes yeux,

d^m^nager,

me

h^las

Petit k petit je vais

r^installer

^ Parisje

comme

15

(15 sept. '49

Suisse,

faire trois

me

suis

mois de radio,

remis au travail,

m*enfoncer dans cet univers qui

une goutte d'eau des myriades dc

contient tous

les autres

microbes,

goutte d'encre qui coule de la plume

la

extraordinaire
croire

et je

sept. '50),

Luxembourg, HoUande,

arrive pas k

m*y

habituer ni

C*est
.

"
!

(Blaise

Cendrars

in a letter dated Sept. 16, 1950.)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To

the World Review^ London, for permission to reprint the

chapter

on

Blaise Cendrars

New York,

to Survival,

for the chapter

on Rider Haggard.
Grateful acknowledgment is herewith made to the following publishers
and

individuals for their kind permission to quote

from the following

works:
Blackie

&

Son

Ltd., for Life

of G. A. Henty by G. Melville Fenn.

Borden Publishing Co., for The

History of Magic

Coward-McCann,

of Destiny by Jean Giono.

C.

Inc., for Hill

W. Daniel Co., Ltd., for

The Absolute

Doubleday
Druid

&

and

The Obstinate Cytnric by

Levi.

by Erich Gudcind.

Watts.

Co., Inc., for The Story of My Life

Press for

E. P. Dutton

Collective

W.

James Ladd Delkin for Zen by Alan

by EHphas

J.

by Helen

Keller.

C. Powys.

& Co., Inc., for Cosmic Conscioustiess by R. M. Bunche

Magicians, Seers and Mystics

by Maurice Magre.

Editions Bernard Grasset for Moravagine

by

Blaise Cendrars.

Falcon Press for Babu of Montpamasse by C. L. PhiHppe.

Harcourt, Brace

& Co.,

Inc., for

In Search of the Miraadous

by

P.

D.

Ouspensky.

Hermann Hesse for his article which appeared in Horizon,

Houghton

Mifflin Co.,

Michel and Chartres

Henry Holt

&

&

Constable

Sept., 1946.

Co., Ltd., for Mont Saint

by Henry Adams.

& Co., Inc., for Nature and Man by Paul Weiss.

Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., for Men of Good Will by Jules Romain.

John Lane The Bodley Head for Autobiography by J. C. Powys.
Frieda Lawrence

for

Studies

in

Classic

American

Literature,

and

Apocalypsehotk by D. H. Lawrence.

Le Cercle

Du

Livre for Krishnamurti

by Carlo Suar^.

Les J^tions Denoel for Le Lotissement du Ciel and Bourlinguer--

both by Blaise Cendrars.

Litde,

Brown

&

Longmans, Green

Co., for Schliemann

by Emil Ludwig.

& Co., Ltd., and A.

P.

of My Life by H. Rider Haggard.

Watt

& Son for

The Days

The Macmillan

Co., for Dostoievsky

W. W.

&

J.

Norton

by Edith Hamilton.
C. Powys for his book

Random House
and for Anna

by Janko

Lavrin.

Co., Inc., for The Great Age of Greek Literature

for

Visions and Revisions.

Deems

Christie

Taylor's introduction to Peter Ibbetson

by Eugene

Routledge and Kegan Paul

O'Neill.

Ltd., for Politics of the

Unpolitical

by

Herbert Read.

Sylvan Press Ltd., for From Puskin toMayakovsky by Janko Lavrin.

W.

T. Symonds for an

The Viking

article

by Erich Gutkind

Press Inc., for Joy of Mans Desiring

by Jean Giono, and

in Purpose, 1947.

and Blue

Boyboth

the Portable Sherwood Anderson.

CREDIT FOR PHOTOS

1.

Henry Miller

2. Blaise

Big Sur (1950) by Flair, New York.

(1950) by Robert Doisneau, Montrouge,

in Studio,

Cendrars

France.
3.

Xerxes Society.

4.

Miller Family

1902-03).

Portrait

by Pach

Bros.,

New York

(circa

PREFACE
The purpose of

this

book, which will run to several volumes in

the course of the next

It deals

life.

study nor does

One of the

Appendix
the

of

this

less

my own

not a

It is

and

less,

to

my

critical

for that

not more and more.

good.

But even

the

a glance at the

the scholar,

yet

the " well-educated

Only one out of

As

much as
" man

hundred times more than

of " books."

what

is

the confirmed belief that one

is

small

Scarcely any one lives wisely or

fiilly.

have

should have read

five in America,

this

are readers

of

to round out the story

will reveal, I have not read nearly as

bookworm, or even

much.

is

self-examination

book amounts

undoubtedly read
for

years,

as vital experience.

contain a program for self-education.

it

results

writing of this

should read

few

with books

it is said,

number read

far too

There have been and always will be books which are truly revolutionary
fiir

that

is

to say, inspired and inspiring.

One

between, of course.

a Ufetime.

is

They

few and

are

lucky to run across a handfiil in

Moreover, these are not the books which invade the

general pubHc.

men of lesser

They, are

talent

thei

hidden reservoirs which feed the

who know how

to appeal to the

man

in the

The vast body of Hterature, in every domain, is composed

of hand-me-down ideas. The question ^never resolved, alas
is to what extent it would be efficacious to curtail the overwhelming

street.

supply of cheap fodder.

One

thing

If it

be knowledge or wisdom one

the

certain today

is

among

are definitely not the least inteUigctit

i

illiterate

us.

seeking, then

one had

better

not the scholar or philo-

sopher, not the master, saint, or teacher, but Ufe itselfdirect

go

direct to the source.

experience of

life.

dispense with

**

be

sure, another

mind

the sort

And

The same

the masters.**

is

the source

is

is

true for

When

kind of hfe than that

art.

say

Here, too,

life I

we know

today.

which D. H. Lawrence speaks of in

* Published by Martin Seeker, London, 1932.

we

can

have in mind, to
I

have in

Etruscan Places.*

See page? 88-93.

II

PREFACE
Or

Henry Adams speaks of when the Virgin reigned supreme

that

at Chartres.

In

tliis

which beHeves

age,

that there

the greatest lesson to be learned

All that

in the long run, the easiest.

seems so terribly

which

it

vital

and

most

way

difficult

forth in books,

is,

that

all

but an iota of that from

is

within everyone's power to tap.

is

it

a short cut to everything,

is set

significant,

stems and which

is

that the

is

Our whole theory of education is based on the absurd notion that

we must learn to swim on land before tackling the water. It applies
of the

to the pursuit

Men

are

arts as

well as to the pursuit of knowledge.

being taught to create by studying other men's works

still

or by making plans and sketches never intended to materialize.

The ait of writing is taught in the classroom instead of in the thick

of

hfe.

to

fit all

Students are

being handed models which are supposed

still

temperaments,

No

kinds of intelligence.

all

wonder we

produce better engineers than writers, better industrial experts

than painters.

My encounters with books I regard very much as my encounters

with other phenomena of Hfe or thought.
not

figurate,

are as

for

much

being.

If

beheve

status

se.

They

category.

a part of Ufe as trees, stars or dung.

them per

Nor do
are

Uke other men, no

defend them

that, in

now

our society

have no reverence

put authors in any special, privileged

powers given them, just

exploit the

All encounters are con-

In this sense, and in this sense only, books

isolate.

as

better,

and then

at least,

as a class

^it

To

see

myself

fighting his

of the jungle

was never to

live in the

is

To be

it is

itself is

especially,

Hke watching a

^it

was to get

not necessary to

enough of a jungle

instructive one, to say the least.

But,

you

man

sure, living in the heart

learned a few things about the jungle.

firm conviction that

of books. Life

once was

a jungle.

jungle

because

as scapegoats.

as the reader I

way through

is

they have never achieved the

and the consideration they merit. The great ones,

have almost always been treated

They

no worse.

any other order of human

clear

first

my

aim

It is

my

inhabit this jungle

a very
ask,

But

of it

may

real

and a very

not books be a

our way through the wilderness ? " N'ira

pas loin," said Napoleon, " celui qui sait d'avance ou il veut aller.**

help, a guide, in fighting

The
12

principal

aim underlying

this

work

is

to render

homage

PREFACE
where homage

which

due, a task

is

Were

of accompHshment.

to

do

know beforehand

I
it

properly,

is

impossible

would have

to get

down on my knees and thank each blade of grass for rearing its
head. What chiefly motivates me in this vain task is the fact that
in general we know all too little about the influences which shape
The

a writer's Hfe and work.

critic,

author,

however

The

disguises the picture.

of things, only deepens the

an exception to the

and disguising the

rule.

facts

"

perhaps

am on

truth,

work

too,

am

facts

" there be.

to a fault

throwing out fresh

altering, distorting

My conscious

opposite direction.

on

the side of beauty,

data, to

the books, or even

all

have read in the course of my

be judged and analyzed,

(for

me) of

To

this

can

know of no

recall

Perhaps
is

do intend

not

that.

to

go on writing

domain of reaUty.

ever reading gives

my

cannot

have exhausted the importance

have undertaken the thankless task of

Naturally

the significant ones, which

all

But

life.

about books and authors until

In this

perfection.

or accepted and enjoyed for enjoyment's sake.

write about

eflbrt,

in the

the side of revelation, if not always

am

view

do not think myself

of

guilty

wisdom, harmony and ever-evolving

I

The

think himself to be, inevitably

As author,

blur.
I,

if

conceit and

recognition.

all

psychologist, with his single-track

however, has been

I

may

he

truthful

pompous

in his

beyond

arrogance, distorts the true picture

author

who

me

has been

Those

mad enough

who know how

to read a

satisfaction.

to attempt this.^

but

more confusion

Hst will give rise to

books

listing all the

extreme pleasure and

its

purpose

man know how

to read

For these the Hst will speak for itself

In writing of the " amoraUsme " of Goethe, Jules de Gaultier,

his

books.

quoting Goethe,

beUeve, says

etre productrice et cr^er

At

the core of this

book

nostalgia for the past

case,

nor

is it

"La

vraie nostalgic doit toujours

une nouvelle chose qui

there

itself,

as

is

may sometimes

a nostalgia for the irretrievable

moments Uved

to the fullest.

soit meilleure."

a genuine nostalgia.

not a

a nostalgia for

it is

It is

appear to be the

These moments occurred sometimes

through contact with books, sometimes through contact with

men and women I have dubbed

nostalgia for the

with

whom

**

Uving books." Sometimes

companionship of those boys

one of the strongest bonds

it is

grew up with and

had was

books.

(Yet
13

PREFACE
here

must confess

memories, they are

that,

however bright and revivifying

my former
those boys
who went by the immortal names of Johnny Paul,

company of

in the

me

boys to

idols-in-the-flesh,

Eddie Carney, Lester Reardon, Johnny and

of

whom

these

nothing to the remembrance of days spent

as

did

book or

ever sec with a

Whether

the remotest way.)

it

^still

Jimmy Dunne, none

with a book in

associate

was Goethe who

said

it

or de Gaul-

too most firmly beUeve that true nostalgia must always be

tier, I

productive and conducive to the creation of new and better things.

If it

were merely to rehash the

my

persons or events,

and dead

as

task

may now

it

past,

whether in the form of books,

would be

a vain and

seem, the

of

list

Appendix may prove for some kindred

with which to unlock

their living

given in the

be

to

souls

Cold

one.

fiitile

titles

key

the

moments of joy and

plenitude

in the past.
^

One of the

reasons

bother to write a preface, which

something of a bore to the reader, one of the reasons

it

for the fifth and,

may be

frustrated

finished, I
last

hope, the

have immediately to

book of The Rosy

of the things

while

therefore,

time,

is

by some unforeseen

myself and one which

like,

last

set to

Crucifixion,

the fear that

work

have rewritten
completion

its

This

event.

volume

first

to write the third and

the hardest task

have avoided for

always

is

many

ever set

a year.

would

time permits, to give a hint of some

planned or hoped to write about in succeeding

volumes.
Naturally,
this

had some

work. Unlike the

sort

his blueprint in the process

book

is

of flexible plan in mind when

architect,

whatever

complicated

is

as

to a close that I

of erecting

To

his edifice.

left

of

my

original plan has

a spider's web.

have come to

It is

realize

the writer

At any

grown tenuous and

only in bringing

how much

have to say, about certain authors, certain

I

began

something to be hved through, an experience, not a plan

to be executed in accordance with laws and specifications.

rate,

however, an author often discards

this

wish to

subjects,

volume
say,

and

some of which

have already touched upon.* For example, no matter

how

often

* An American whose influence I may have minimized is Jack London.

Glancing through his Essays of Revolt, edited by Leonard D. Abbott, I recalled
the great thrill it gave me, a boy of fourteen, to merely hear the name Jofk
14


PREP ACB
I

him I have never said, and probably never will say, all
mean to say about Elie Faure. Nor have I by any means

refer to

that I

And

exhausted the subject of Blaise Cendrars.

a giant

among our
As

to approach.

for

whom

Rider Haggard,

then there

is

Celine,

have not even begun

I shall

have more

certainly

about him, in particular, his Ayesha, the sequel to She^.

to say
it

contemporaries,

comes

to

G. A. Henty. I

know

The Grand

subject like

Husband my

demand

When

Emerson, Dostoievsky, Maeterlinck, Knut Hamsim,

I shall

of

favorite

my

never say

Inquisitor, for

all

word about

last

example, or The

Dostoievsky's works

\/

them.

Eterttal

would seem to

"p
j

separate books in themselves.

Perhaps

when

come

to

Berdyaev and that great flock of exalted Russian writers of the

Nineteenth century, the

men with

the eschatological

flair,

shall

get

roimd to saying some of the things

have been wanting to say

for

twenty years or more. Then there

is

the Marquis de Sade, one

deliberately

of the most maligned, defamed, misunderstood

figures

grips

with him

figures in all
said I

in all Htcrature.

of Gilles de Rais, one of the most glorious,

figure

European

history.

a fiiend has sent

me

sinister,

enigmatic

In the letter to Pierre Lesdain

had not yet received a good book on

meantime

and

Time I came to
Back of him and overshadowing him stands the

wilfully misunderstood

one firom

I
'

Gilles

Paris,

de Rais.

and

In the

have read

it.

To us who hungered for life he was a shining light, adored as

for his revolutionary fervor as for his wild, adventurous life.
strange now to read, ia Leonard Abbott's Introduction, that in the year
Loitdori.

How

much

1905 (0 J^ck London was proclaiming

"

The

revolution is here now^.

Stop it who can "
strange now to read the opening words of his
famous speech on " Revolution," which he delivered to university students
throughout America how did it ever happen f ^telling of the seven million
men and women then enrolled throughout the world in the army of revolt.
Listen to Jack London's words :
**
There has never been anything like this revolution in the history of the
world. There is nothing analogous between it and the American Revolution
or the French Revolution. It is unique, colossal. Other revolutions compare
with it as asteroids compare with the sun. It is alone of its kind, the first
world revolution in a world whose history is replete with revolutions. And
not only this, for it is the first organized movement of men to become a
world movement, limited only by the limits of the planet. This revolution
is unlike all other revolutions in many respects.
It is not sporadic. It is not
a flame of popular discontent, arising in a
and dying down in a day . . ."
One of the first Americans, I presume, to make a fortune with the pen.
Jack London resigned firom the Socialist Party in 1916, accusing it of lacking
fire and fight. One wonders what he would say today, were he alive, about
" the devolution."
!

How

^y

15

PREFACE
It is

book

just the

was looking

for

called Gilles de Rais et

it is

by George Meunier*
Here are a few more books and authors

son temps

the future

my mind

to

the

most extraordinary novel on psychoanalysis, one

which dwarfs the subject

The Path

an early favorite and a steadfast love

pages,

**

of This Book,"

Praise

Rome, by Hilaire Belloc,

to

each time

read the opening

dance with joy

Marie CoreUi,

contemporary of Rider Haggard, Yeats, Tennyson, Oscar Wilde,

who

said

of herself in a letter to the vicar of the parish church at

" With regard to the Scriptures, I do not

Stratford-on-Avon
think any
I

intend to dwell on in

Algernon Blackwood, author of The Bright Messenger^

have, or,

woman has ever

let

me

Rene

write about

and get out ahve

Caill^, the first

;

modem

times.

them so deeply and devoutly

and devoutly."
white

his story, as related

Unueiling of Timbuctoo,
in

studied

say, more deeply

is

And

to

my

mind

man

to enter

as

certainly

I shall

Timbuctoo

by Galbraith Welch

in

The

the greatest adventure story

Nostradamus, Janko Lavrin, Paul Brunton,

Peguy, Ouspensky's In Search of

Miraculous, Letters from the

tlie

Mahatmas, Fechner's Life After Death, Claude Houghton's metaphysical novels, Cyril Connolly's Enemies of Promise (another

about books), the language of night,

as

Eugene Jolas

calls it,

book

Donald

Keyhoe's book on the flying saucers, cybernetics and dianetics,

the importance

and,

among

who

of nonsense, the subject of resurrection and ascension,

other things, a recent

book by Carlo Suares

(the

same

wrote on Krishnamurti), entitled Le Mythc Judeo-Chritien.

I shall also
" why not ? " as Picasso says expatiate on the subject
**
of
pornography and obscenity " in Uterature. In fact, I have

already written quite a

few pages on

held over for the second volume.

need of authentic data.

are the great

theme, which

this

Meanwhile

am

very

have

much

in

should like to know, for example, what

pornographic books of

all

time.

(I

know

but a very

* In Paris, about 1931 or 1932, Richard Thoma gave me a copy of his book
on Gilles de Rais, called Tragedy in Blue. A few weeks ago I received a
reprint of this book, published as an anonymous work and entitled The
Authorized Version Book Three The Book of Sapphire.
Rereading it, I
was overcome with mortification that I could have forgotten the power
and the splendor of this work. It is a poetic justification, I might almost,

or paean or dithyramb, only fifty-one pages long, unique in its genre,

as only highly imaginative works can be.
It is a breviary for the
initiated.
Apologies and congratulations, Dicko
say,

and true

16

PREFACE

who

few.)

How

who

are the writers

arc

still

regarded as

*'

obscene "

widely are their books circulated and where chiefly

In

what languages

works

are

banned in England and America, and then only

certain

of their works, not

still

can think of only three great writers whose

most sensational work

What of

Lawrence.

all.

mean

the Marquis de Sade (whose

banned in France), Aretino and D. H.

is still

Restif de la Bretonne, concerning

an American, J. Rives Childs, has compiled

tome of ** t^moignages et jugements " ?

(in

whom

French) a formidable

And what

about that

pornographic novel in the English language. The Memoirs

"
Hill ? Why, if it is so " dull," has it not become a ** classic
Fanny
of
first

by now,
and

It is

stores,

two hundred

just

railway stations and other

years since

it first

appeared,

has never gone out of print, as every American tourist in

it

Paris

drug

free to circulate in

innocent places

well knows.

Curious, but of

The Thirteen

O. V. Milosz,

by

Sir Godfi-ey Higgins,

and Les

Atiacalypsis,

author

VApocalypse, by

Clifs de

who

died not long ago at Fontaine-

yet received a

good book on the Children's

the Polish poet

Nor have

was searching for while writing

wanted most have not turned up

Crucified Saviours,

of the celebrated

bleau.

the books

all

volume, the two

this first

Crusades.

There are three magazines

good magazines
bright

spirit,

And now

Wyndham Lewis),
word about

the

Lawrence Clark Powell.

It

speaking of

to

whom

this

was on one of

book

is

dedicated

his visits to

him

books.

no one

if for

Some months

dormant, took hold.

could never

rest

Powell knew

it

enough to keep
r

else) a short

too,

of a

hbrarians as

write

experience with

which had always been

I knew that
summary account of the subject.

no doubt, but he was cunning or

to himself.

one thing, and

rrection

my

After writing about fifty pages

content with a

it

book about

the germ,

later

Big Sur

about books than any one

have ever had the good fortune to meet, suggested that

(for

when

and The Masque of Gordon Craig.

man

who knows more

that this individual,

I

forgot to mention

The Enemy (edited by that amazing,

Jugend,

it is

owe Larry Powell

a big thing to

me

because

discreet

a great deal.
it

means the

owe him my present ability to view

very Hve human beings, sometimes,

false attitude, I

human

beings,

PR EPA C
and capable of proving dynamic

no

vital part

of our

question have

scrupulously.

No

down.

which they

life,

me

have given

librarian

Should

forces in our midst.

Certainly

be more zealous than he in making books a

librarian could

put to

are not at present.

greater direct aid than he.

him which he

Nor could any

Not a single

has not answered fully and

request of any sort, in fact, has he ever turned

book prove

this

to be a failure

it

will not be his

feult.

Here

who

must add a few words about other individuals

way

extended their aid in one

or another.

and foremost,

First

New York. You, Dante,

whom I have never met, how can I express to you my deep gratitude
Dante T. Zaccagnini of Port Chester,

the arduous labors

for

all

my

behalf i

were.

you performed

and

voluntarily

you

In addition

insisted

^because you thought

your most precious books

of them than you

It

several

on

had more need

you made, vi^t

tact,

humility and

me.

when

hundred books which

began

were,

this task there

needed to borrow or to own.

money to buy them, was to

it among my friends and
among my readers. The men and women

only recourse, not having the

make up

list

acquaintances

whose names
with

fail

helpfid suggestions

All done with discretion,

Words

should be undentood that

I felt,

My

And what

subtle corrections

devotion.

humdrum tasks some of them

on making me gifts of some of

blush to think what

of

titles

and,
I

and disseminate

have given

at the close

of this volume suppHed

me

my wants. Many of these were simply readers whom I got to

The "

"

who could most

me the books I so sorely needed, and whom I counted
upon, failed to come through. An experience of this sort is always
illuminating.
The friends who fail you are always replaced by
new ones who appear at the critical moment and from the most
know through

correspondence.

friends

afford to send

unexpected quarten.

One of the few

rewards an author obtains for his labors

conversion of a reader into a

rare deHghts

he experiences

waiting for from an

I

take

among
i8

it,

warm,

is

unknown

personal friend.

There

may

the

to receive exactly the gift he was

reader.

Every

sincere writer has,

hundreds, perhaps thousands, of such

his readers.

is

One of the

be,

and doubtless

unknown
arc,

friends

authors

who

PREFACE
have

My

need of

little

case

their readers except as purchasers

somewhat

is

different.

borrower and a lender.

their aid.

Department

which

there, a letter in

(A grand

case in point

Sacramento.

their books.

all

who

am

volunteer

to accept these gracious overat Yale,

Donald A. Schon.

mine to Professor Henri Peyre of the French

young man read

services.

use of any and

one was from a student

latest

In filing a letter of

help, this

make

would be ashamed not

The

tures.

of

have need of every one.

my

gesture

is

had made an appeal for

letter

Sehr Schon

clerical

and spontaneously offered

his

!)

the fortuitous emergence

of John Kidis of

request for a signed photograph led to a brief

interchange of letters followed

by

John Kidis (originally Mestakidis)

But it doesn't explain everything.

a visit and a
a Greek,

is

shower of

whidi

dont know which

gifts.

mudi.

explains

appreciate

the more, the armfiils of books (some of them very difficult to find)

which he dumped on
viz.,

my

desk or the never-ceasing flow of

sweaters and socks of pure

wool and nylon,

mother, trousers, caps, and other

articles

his

grandmother or

his aunt, tins

of Halva, jugs of

for the children, writing materials (paper, envelopes

my name

post cards with

his

of clothing picked up

here and there, Greek pastries (such deHcious deHcacies

by

gifts,

by

knitted

prepared

!)

rezina, toys

of

kinds,

all

and address printed on them, carbon

paper, pencils, blotters), circulars and announcements, baptismal

towels (his father

is

a priest), dates

oranges, apples, even pomegranates

to say nothing

and nuts of all kinds,

(all

from

the mythical

firesh figs,

" farm

of the typing he did for me, or the printing

"),

{Tfie

Waters RegUtterized, for example), the water colors he bought,

me with, the errands he volunteered

me (throwing out all his other stock-

the paper and paints he supplied

to run, the books he sold for

in-trade

and

setting himself

the tires he bought for

up

**

The House of Henry

me, the music he offered to get

sheet music, albums), and so

is

as

on and

so

one to account for such generosity

It

goes without saying,

readers

of

tliis

on ad
?

infinitum.

How

trust, that I shall

book any and

all

indications

Miller "),

me
.

(records,
.

ever repay

How

it ?

welcome from
of

the

error, omission,

or misjudgment. I am well aware that this book, because

" about books," will go to many who have never read me

falsification
it is

before,

hope

that they will spread the

good word, not abotn

19

PREFACE
this

it

Our world

book, but about the books they love.

drawing to a

close

have to

will

become

rest

new one

on deeds

as

about to open. If it

is

well as

The word

faith.

rapidly

will have to

flesh.

who are able to view the immediate

There are few among us today

and apprehension.

future with anything but fear

among

all

taining

words of comfort, peace,

those

have recendy read which

quote a passage

**

page 194*

is

is

one book

it

is

Particularly the

of the Virgin Mary.

exalted and

which

is

signal as con-

and sublimity,

Chartrfs.

chapters dealing with Chartres and the cult

Every reference to the " Queen

If there

might

inspiration

Henry Adams' Mont-Saint-Michel and

me

is

to flourish

is

commanding. Let

in order

There she acttially is ^not in symbol or in fancy, but in

penon, descending on her errands of mercy and listening
to each one of us, as her miracles prove, or satisfying our
prayers merely by her presence which calms our excitement as that of a mother calms her child. She is there as
Queen, not merely as intercessor, and her power is such
that to her the difierence between us earthly beings is
nothing. Pierre Mauclerc and PhiHppe Hurepel and their
men-at-arms are afraid of her, and the Bishop himself is
never quite at his ease in her presence
but to peasants,
and beggars, and people in trouble, this sense of her power
and caJm is better than active sympathy. People who
^who are crushed
sufi*er beyond the formulas of expression
into silence, and beyond pain ^want no display of emotion
^no bleeding heart
^no weeping at the foot of the Cross
^no phrases
They want to see God, and to
^no hysterics
know that He is watching over His own.
;

There are

who

us.

However

important thing going on.

impoverish,
scribblers,

man,

writers, such as this

impoverish

we who

write,

it

who

be, there

enrich us

is all

All the while, whether

we

are being supported,

authors,

and others

the while a

we

we men of

protected,

women who watch

truth

No

which

one

is

artist

in us.

we

the men
we reveal the
no man knows.

and pray, so to speak, that

How

vast this multitude

has ever reached the

*^From the Houghton,

20

letters,

maintained, enriched

and endowed by a vast horde of unknown individuals

and

more

enrich or

Mifflin

Co.

is

whole great throbbing mass

edition,

Boston and

New York,

1933.

PREFACE
of humanity.

We

swim

in the

write,

of the

same stream,

how often or how

common need If to

same source, yet

deeply are

we
we

write books

is

drink from the

aware,

we who

to restore

what

we have taken from the granary of Hfe, from sisters and brothers
"
unknown, then I say " Let us have more books
:

In the second
things,

volume of

this

work

I shall

of Pornography and Obscenity,

Gilles

Grand

write,

among

C^Hne,

Ayesha, Marie CorelH,

Dostoievsky's

Maeterlinck, Berdyaev,

Claude Houghton and Malaparte.

index of

all

references to

all

other

de Rais, Haggard's
Inquisitor,

books and authors cited in

all

The
of my

books will be included in the second volume.

HENRY

MILLER.

ai

THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO ME

I

room, one wall of which

SIT in a little

with books.

It is

the

time

first

with anything

like a collection

more than

hundred in

five

my own choice.
that

am

the

It is

now

completely lined

There are probably no

of books.

but for the most part they represent

all,

first

is

have had the pleasure of working

time, since

my writing career,

began

surrounded with a goodly number of the books

The

always longed to possess.

did most of

my work

have

however, that in the past

fact,

look upon

as

with the reading of books

is

without the aid of a Hbrary

an advantage rather than a disadvantage.

One of

the

first

things

associate

Not to own them, mind you,

but to lay hands on them. From the moment the passion took
hold of me I encountered nothing but obstacles. The books I
the struggle

waged

to obtain them.

wanted, at the pubUc Hbrary, were always out.

never had the

my

Hbrary in
years of

money

to

buy them.

neighborhood

ageto borrow

Confession of a Fool,

such a

To

And of

get permission

course

from the

was then eighteen or nineteen

**
demoralizing " work as The

by Strindberg, was just impossible. In those

young people were prohibited from reading

days the books which

were decorated with

one,

two or

stars

degree of immoraHty attributed to them.

still

obtains.

whet

one's

hope

appetite

so, for I

than

according

three
I

know of nothing

this

stupid

sort

to the

suspect this procedure

better calculated to

of

classification

and

prohibition.

What makes
answer, in
sionate

my

How

a book live ?

opinion,

is

simple.

often this question arises

book Hves through

recommendation of one reader to another.

throttle this basic impulse in the

of cynics and misanthropes,

it is

human

my

being.

beHef that

The

the pas-

Nothing can

Despite the views

men

will always

strive to share their deepest experiences.

Books
32

are

one of the few things incn cherish deeply.

And

the

WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO MH

TttBY

man

better the

more

the

possessions.

book

he part with

easily will

on a

lying idle

shelf

is

his

most cherished

wasted ammunirion.

Lend

Like money, books must be kept in constant circulation.

maximum

and borrow to the

of both books and money

But

more than money.

A book is not only a fiiend, it makes friends for you. When you
have possessed a book with mind and spirit, you are enriched.
especially books, for

But when you

Here an

pass

all

Oh, do not doubt

those books

what

a tenth of

too,

I,

seizes

me

that

have read.

is

much

The most

who drowned

Hke to wade through

secretly

that I did

of

a piece

offer

have envied those

would

know now

do only what

to

read as Uttle as possible, not as

have so long toyed with in

not important.

learn to

infinitely

are enriched threefold.

impulse

It is this

themselves in books.

it is

on you

it

irrepressible

gratuitous advice.
as possible

books represent

my mind.

But

know

not need to read even

thing in Ufe

difficult

is

to

advantageous to one's welfare,

strictly

strictly vital.

There

an excellent

is

like to read,

way

to test this precious bit of advice

When you

not given rashly.

have

stumble upon a book you would

or think you ought to read, leave

it

alone for a few

you can. Let the title and

the author's name revolve in your mind. Think what you yourself
might have written had the opportunity been yours. Ask yourself
earnestly if it be absolutely necessary to add this work to your
But think about

days.

as intensely as

it

store

of knowledge or your fund of enjoyment.

what

it

Then,

would mean
if

you

find

you must read

extraordinary

acumen you

stimulating

may

If

you

it

are honest

has increased

Try

to imagine

to forego this extra pleasure or erdightenment.

tackle

be, very Httle

it.

the book, observe with

what

Observe, too, that however

of the book

is

really

new

to you.

with yourself you will discover that your stature

from

the

mere

effort

of

resisting

your impulses.

Indubitably the vast majority of books overlap one another.

Few

indeed are those which give the impression of originality,

either in style or content.

fifiy,

perhaps, out of the

Rare

are the unique

books

^less

than

whole storehouse of Hterature. In one of

Cendrars points out

his

recent

autobiographical novels,

that

R^my

de Gourmont, because of his knowledge and awareness

of

this repetitive

Blaise

quaUty in books, was able to

select

and read

all

23

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

that

in the entire reahn

worth while

is

himselfwho would suspect

most authors in

?is

it

as

well as his

and

letters

last

book

that,

He

man

the

reads

when

but

has written,

the books that have been written about

all

In our day his case

him.

Cendrars

literature,

Not only

their original tongue.

he Ukes an author he reads every

of

a prodigious reader.

is

almost unparalleled,

imagine.

For,

not only has he read widely and deeply, but he has himself written
a great

many

books.

thing, Cendrars,

man who

on

the side, as

it

were.

For, if he

is

any-

has

is

in a sense, the JuHus Caesar

is,

All

man of action, an adventurer and explorer,

known how to "waste** his time royally. He

he

of

Hterature.

The other day, at the request of the French publisher, Gallimard,

made up a Hst of the hundred books* which I thought had

influenced

me

A strange

most.

gruous

titles as

Island.

The

Bad Boy,

list,

indeed, containing such incon-

Mahatmas and Pitcaim

named, a decidedly " bad " book, I read as a boy.

Peck*s

first

Letters from the

it worth including in my list because no other book

made me laugh so heartily. Later, in my teens, I made periodical
trips to the local hbrary to paw the books on the shelf labelled

thought

ever

" Humor.**
This

is

Dead

Souls,

and the Paycock,

found which were

of Uterature which

two or

am hard

in this category of

Hamsun,

in

few

it is

three

put to

Max
It

really

humorous

woefully meagre and

of Chesterton's works, and Juno

it

humor. There

which

true,

still

are legion, bore

me

to mention anything outstanding

are passages in Dostoievsky

professional humorists,

to death.

would be an achievement,
I

humor which

die.
is

The

very

I feel, if I

and

their

Books on humor, such

Eastman*s, Arthur Koestler*s, or Bergson's,

book before

and

my eyes,

bring tean of laughter to

The

but they are only passages.

names

is

After citing Huckleberry Finn, The Crock of Gold, Lysis-

deficient.
trata.

How

the one realm

I also

as

find deadly.

could write just one humorous

Chinese, incidentally, possess a sense of

close,

very dear, to me.

Particularly their

poets and philosophers.

In books for children, which influence us the

fiiiry tales,

absent.

legends, myths, allegorieshumor

Horror and tragedy,

ingredients.

But

it is

lust

and

cruelty,

mostI mean

of course, woefully

seem to be the cardinal

through the reading of these

* See Appendix.
24

is,

boob

that the

THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO MB

imaginative faculty

is

As we grow

nourisheci.

on

a treadmill

is

carried along

The mind

which grows increasingly monotonous.

becomes so dulled

that

one out of a

of indifference or apathy.

state

With childhood

takes a truly extraordinary

it

reading there

arc prone to forget

is

a factor

book

of significance which

one remembers the

feel

one can locaHze the time and place of a

with

illness,

How easily

events the inner and outer worlds

There

The books one

the child

who

later reading,

has wise parents

What

avoid them.

such like

that

later in life

Baba and

I ask,

experience

his early favorites

I

my

parents

regard

this as

would give me

my

phenomenal,

his

He

does not seem to be

favorite author.

eight or ten of his

I

be on intimate terms with him.

got

reader.

of

my

is

day they were

perspective

vitally important, because

of world

history.

fourteen.

boy.

as

He

seems,

Everyone knows,

presume, that Henty*s books arc historical romances.

first

was

can pick up any book

and get the same fascinating pleasure

**
talking down " to his

of

which comes

recently, after

reread Henty's Lion of the North.

As a boy, Henty was

Only

must have read every blessed one before

Today, and

rather, to

the

the Forty Thieves, the Fairy Tales

has not enjoyed the uncanny thrill

on rereading

Every Christmas
I

is

even the ignorant parent can hardly

Andersen, Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver's Travels and

the lapse of almost fifty years,

books.

Lucky

one.

So powerful, however,

Who also,

What an

the absence of

is

upon

child has not read Sinhad the Sailor, Jason and

the Golden Fleece, All

Grimm and

distinctly

differentiates the reading

and that

reads as a child arc thrust

dominion of certain books

of

These readings are

life.

done in childhood firom

choice.

In the remembrance of these

fiise.

one thing, moreover, which

is

Some books

reading.

some with bad weather, some with

punishment, some with reward.

" events " in one's

first

we

How

of a favorite book,

the typography, the binding, the illustrations, and so on.

are associated

to rout

the physical ambiance of the occasion.

distinctly, in after years,

and

older, fantasy

One

imagination become increasingly rare to find.

To

the lads

they gave us our

The Lion of the North, for

instance,

about Gustavus Adolphus and the Thirty Years* War.

appears that strange, enigmatic figureWallenstein.

When,

In

it

just

25

my

The books in
the other day,

was

it

came upon

though

as

remarked in a

lif
the pages dealing with Wallenstein,

As

had read them only a few months ago.

the book,

letter to a friend, after closing

words

these pages about Wallenstein that I first encountered the

" destiny

*'

and " astrology."

was in

it

Pregnant words, for a boy.

at

any

rate.

was an age of

massacres.

of

had the

all

how

fortunate

room, right

It

was always

If,

at

my

young
mark

habit to

would

be, thought

know what were my

to see those markings again, to

and reactions in that long ago.

it

my

life,

could

envied him.

this Uttle

How wonderful

liked.

man who

cherished as a child, a boy, a

would be

books

excessively the

moment

For a

could have in

which

the books

Like

of Montaigne's withdrawal

sure,

There, of course, was a

be said to possess a Hbrary

thought to myself,

I,

devotion to books, of his quiet, sober

his

so rich in inward ways.

man,

lately

persecution, and wholesale

intolerance,

had often heard, to be

active Hfe,

elbow,

Only

of reading about the Hfe and times of Montaigne.

ours, his

from

" hbrary."

my

began by speaking of

pleasure

opinions

thought of Arnold Bennett, of

the excellent habit he had formed of inserting at the back of every

book he read

few blank pages whereon he might record

and impressions

what one was

and events,
tions

as

how

like,

one behaved,

earth

able, as

is

my

bound

In the marginal annota-

to ask

Have I not Hved before

or perhaps on some other planet

is

in the universe

lesson liere

Montaigne,

bad memory.

still

on earth ?

"

all else

selves.

" Does

life

cease vwth

Will

Am

not truly imperish-

not appear again

more important question

may be
" Did I

"

noticed with pleasure, speaks frequently of his

He

says that

he was unable to

read not once but several times.

I feel

must have had a good memory in other

has a faulty, spotty
/

former

Perhaps, too, one

or even his impressions, of certain books,

26

know

one reacted to thoughts

easily discover one's

impelled to ask himself a

learn

how

the tremendous evolution of one's being which

occurs in a lifetime one

bodily death

his notes

always curious to

is

at various periods in the past.

of books one can

When one realizes

on

One

he went along.

memory.

recall the contents,

many of which he had

certain,

however, that he

Most everyone
The men who can quote copiously
respects.

THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO Ml

and accurately from the thousands of books they have read,
can

of a novel in

relate the plot

of

dates

historical events,

who

detail,

and so on,

who

can give names and

possess a

monstrous sort of

memory which has always seemed repellent to me. I am one of

those who have a weak memory in certain respects and a strong
one in others. In short, just the kind of memory which is useful
for

When

me.

may

I really

wish to

something

recall

take considerable time and effort.

But

is lost.

know

The

tery."

also that

of memory

How

often

wish to preserve

this
it

exact

total,

happens

that, in

ago, one stimibles

on

memory

to turn to

my

of the West.
I

might

say,

of which

instances,

some of

that

me.

book read long

a burning,

Crucifixion, I

years ago,

on

was obHged

Spengler's Declitt^^

passages, a considerable

The

sense

the importance

but not the words themselves.

for I

To know

number,

had only to read the opening words and

Hke music.

the rest followed

some

made many

notes,

well

Recently, in completing

book of The Rosy

There were certain

as

sufficient for

whose every word has

inexhaustible, unforgettable resonance

the script of the second

is

glancing through a

passages

it

The only kind

never forget.

the Proustian sort.

is

infaUible,

though

can,

aroma, the ambiance,

or non-value of a thing,

is

quietly that nothing

important to cultivate a " forget-

it is

flavor, the savor, the

as the value

there

know

of the words had

Every time

had read them again and

lost, in

once attached to them,

struck these passages,

became more
more pregnant, more charged with that mysterious
which every great author embeds in his language and which
again, the language

redolent,

quality
is

the

mark of his

the vitality
that

decided to quote a

an experiment which

between myself and

become

Were

my

my

own

very

so impressed was

by

readers.
I felt

as

in their entirety.

It

was

obHged to conduct, an experiment

felt

and

they not every bit

The

lines I

that they

important in

which

chose to quote had

had to be transmitted.

my Hfe

as the

had described

as

haphazard

my own

not pass Oswald Spengler on intact also since he was an

event in
I

rate,

number of them

encounters, crises and events

Why

At any

uniqueness.

and hypnotic character of these Spenglerian passages

am

my

life

one of those readers who, from time to time, copy out

long passages from the b^<^ks

read.

find these citations every-

17

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

where whenever
are never at

my

my

begin going through

spend whole days trying to recollect where

Thus, the other day, opening one of

for something else, I stimibled

me for years.

hved with

Mai loved what

and which

is.

Sometimes

on one of those

notebooks to look

which have

passages

Intro-

It is

Fleurs

improperly called the

is

nothing

have secreted them.

Paris

by Gautier from Havelock Ellis*

" The poet of the
Grain. It begins

duction to Against the

du

my

They

belongings.

elbow, fortunately or unfortunately.

but art arrived

else

style

of decadence,

point of extreme

at that

maturity yielded by the slanting suns of aged civilizations

of shades and of

ingenious, compHcated style, full

the technical vocabularies, taking color

notes

from

all

keyboards ..."

Then

always pops up Hke a flashing semaphore

the ultimate utterance

is

and driven to

my

" The

style

Some

be sure to read them.

thing of vital importance.

almost always

sit

my

that, in leaving,

of decadence

friends

letters

would

people have the opposite compulsion

shout from the rooftop whenever

On

My

secret.

beHeve

weakness

finishing a wonderfril

down and

is

experience becomes a part of

write letters to

**

not.

my daily conversation,

consume.

is

E.

Graham Howe, author of War

like

even

reading
sense

better.

may not

it is.

I called this

and multiply

Increase

it

"

book, for

my friends,
The

enters into the

a weakness.

commanded

Dance, put

to

have discovered some-

sometimes to the author, and occasionally to the publisher.

very food and drink

and

final expression

have often copied out in large

door so

they keep these precious revelations

I

palettes

all

hiding-place."

its last

and placed above

from

follows a sentence which

of the Word, summoned to

Utterances such as these

example,

con-

back the boundaries of speech, borrowing from

stantly pushing
all

an

research,

it

Perhaps

the

Lord.

another way, which

" Create and share!" he counseled. And, though

at first

Without

blush seem like an act of creation, in a deep

the enthusiastic reader,

who is

really the author's

book would die.

The man who spreads the good word augments not only the life of
the book in question but the act of creation itself. He breathes spirit

coimterpart and very often his most secret rival, a

into

other readers.

Whether he

is

He

sustains

handiwork. For, the good reader,

28

the creative spirit everywhere.

aware of it or not, what he

like the

is

doing

good

is

praising God's

author,

knows

that

THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO ME

He knows

everything stems from the same source.

that

he could not

participate in the author's private experience

were he not composed

of the same substance through and through.

And when

mean Author. The writer is, of course,

**

writing, or

creating," as

it is

called,

he

say author

the best of all readers, for in

but reading and transcrib-

is

ing the great message of creation which the Creator in his goodness

made

has

manifest to him.

In the Appendix the reader will find a

arranged in a firank and curious way.*

it

important to

stress at

reading of books which

subject.

It is this

mind

Sometimes these take on amazing

this order.

The

comprises those books which one has every intention of reading

some day but

at least,

in

all

probability never will

which one

those books

feels

the second comprises

he ought to have read, and which, some

he undoubtedly will read before he

dies

the third comprises

the books one hears about, talks about, reads about, but
is

titles

think

Uves with in one's

importance. There are at least three categories of

first

because

it

most works on the

rather neglected in

many of the books one

of authors and

list

mention

the outset a psychological fact about the

is

books one has never read.

are

which one

almost certain never to read because nothing, seemingly, can ever

break

down

In the

the wall of prejudice erected against them.

first

category are those monumental works,

which one

is

one nibbles

at occasionally,

usually

convinced that they are

individual.

tomes

only to push them away, more than ever

still

The

unreadable.

list

varies

with the

For myself, to give a few outstanding names, they

comprise the works of such celebrated authors

Rousseau (excepting

Francis Bacon, Hegel,

In the second category

ing, Santayana.

Decline and Fall of the

of Sodom,

mostly,

classics

ashamed to admit he has never read

Roman

as

Homer,

Entile),

Aristotle,

Robert Brown-

include Arabia Deserta, the

Empire, The Hundred and Twenty Days

Casanova's Memoirs,

History of the French Revolution.

Napoleon's Memoirs,

Michelet's

In the third Pepys' Diary, Tristram

Shandy, Wilhelm Meister, The Anatomy of Melancholy, The Red

and the Black, Marius the Epicurean, The Education of Henry Adams.
Sometimes a chance reference to an author one has neglected to

read or abandoned
the

work of an

* That

is,

all

thought of ever reading

a passage, say,

author one admires, or the words of a friend

those

have read and those

I still

hope to

in

who

is

read.

29

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE,

ako a book loveris
with

sufficient to

make one run

for a book, read

it

In the main, however,

new eyes and claim it as one's very own.

the books one neglects, or deUberately spurns, seldom get read. Certain subjects, certain styles, or unfortunate associations

the very names of

Nothing on

insuperable.
tackle

anew

earth, for

again will

look

at a line

though the last-named

I left

Comeille

me

to

began in college and

that institution in a hurry.

Never

of Edmund Burke, or Addison, or Chaucer,

think altogether worthy of reading. Racine

and Comeille are two others

though

example, could induce

which

Spenser's Faery Queen,

fortunately dropped because

connected v^dth

books, create a repugnance almost

certain

doubt

me

intrigues

if I shall ever

look

at again,

because of a brilliant essay

on Phldre in The Cloums Grail* On the

other hand there are books which He at the very foundations
of literature but which are so remote from one's thinking
and experience as to render them " untouchable." Certain
read not long ago

'

bulwark of our

authors, supposed to be the

more

culture, are

the

foreign in spirit to

directly to

No

the

most exciting

which have not contributed

cultures

our development.

Western

fairy tales, for

example, have

more potent influence over me than those of the Japanese,

became acquainted with through the work of Lafcadio

/--v

exercised a

r^

which

from

particular

than are the Chinese,

Some of

Arabs, or primitive peoples.

Hterary works spring

me

Heam, one of the exotic figures in American Hterature. No stories

were more seductive to me as a child than those drawn from the
American Indian folklore

Arabian Nights* Entertainment.

cold, whereas the folklore
as I

of Afiica

near and dear to

is

have said repeatedly, whatever

(barring Confiidus) seems as if written

I

said that

sometimes

it is

the track of a buried book.

my immediate

What! He

becomes not only open and receptive but

happens that

interest in a

it is

not a friend of similar

fall

ancestors.

puts one

away and

tastes

who

the

mind
Often

revives one's

dead book but a chance acquaintance. Sometimes

t See Cendrars* African Anthology.

ht

its

on

book?" you

positively aflame.

* By Wallace Fowlie. Sub-title A Study of Love

Dennis Dobson, Ltd., London, 1947.

30

who

liked that

say to yourself, and immediately the barriers

it

me

read of Chinese Uterature

by

an esteemed author
**

leaves

me.f And,

this

Literary Expression


THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO ME
of being a

individual gives the impression

why

memory of

nitwit,

and one wonders

book which this person

casually recommended, or perhaps did not recommend at all but
"
merely mentioned in the course of conversation as being an ** odd
he should retain the

book.

book

mood,

In a vacant

recollection

Heights

praised so

Then comes

me

for

much and

friend,

whose

so often,

woman

^by a

Though

it.

From having heard

this sort.

had concluded
!

that

it

be shallow,

let

promptly proceeded to forget

tured a secret resolve to have a look at this famous

read

it

in

few

years ago, Jean

one gulp, astoimded

as is

Varda put

everyone,

power and beauty. Yes, one of the very

And

language.

reading

I,

in

nurday.

my

suspect,

hands.*

by its amazing

great novels in the

EngHsh

it.

had, like everyone

is

else,

that

of The City of God.

read the Confessions of

had made a deep impression. Then, in

it

it

it, I

book one

through pride and prejudice, had almost missed

Quite another story

I

Then one
drop a few

remarks, the poison sank into me. Without realizing

Finally, just a

it

was impossible

to be that good.

taste I suspected to

pregnant words about

his

hock, the shock of discovery. Wuthering

an example of

for an English novel

day a

we say, suddenly the

we are ready to give the

at loose ends, as

of this conversation occurs, and

trial.
is

upon me The City of God^

in

St.

Paris,

two volumes.

Many

years ago

Augustine.

some one

found

boring and deadly, but in parts monstrously ridiculous.

it

And
thrust

not only

An English

a mutual friend to his surprise, no doubt

work informed me that he could get a good
price for it if I would only annotate it. I sat down to read it once
again, taking elaborate pains to make copious remarks, usually
derogatory, in the margins
after spending a month or so at this
vain task I dispatched the book to England. Twenty years later I
bookseller, hearing
that

had read

from

this

received a post card

to

sell

And

the

that

was the

Throughout
should also
* He
painter,

this

stating that

he hoped

had found a buyer for

it at last.

same bookseller

^he

heard from him. Droie d'histoire !

Hfe the word ** confessions " in a title has

last I

my

alwa)^

mentioned Strindberg's Confession of a Fool,

have mentioned Marie BashkirtsefF's famous work

acted like a magnet.

I

from

copy in a few days

also put into

my

hands another amazing book, Hebdomeros, by the

Giorgio di Chirico.

31

"

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

and the Confessions of Two Brothers by Powys. There are some very
which I have never been able to

celebrated confessions, however,

wade through. One

recently

Rousseau's, another

is

took another stab

at

few pages was forced to abandon

readwhen

fully intend to

The
I

of knowledge or

know

on such

own

has to dig his

which

select

aflfected the

form of our

which elements of

The

destiny.

may be

culture, each

A man

and

participating.

too

Uttle.

It is

He

devices,

surest
lists

way

man
by

it is

vitally

his

by

own

private

the professorial

of such

in the nature

He

we would

in time share

to defeat such an end

of books

should begin with his

first

is

to

the so-called founda-

own

times.

He

of all with the world in which he

should not be afraid of reading too

should

is

Uving

much

or

should take his reading as he docs his food or his

The good reader

will gravitate to the

discover firom his contemporaries

what is

merely enjoyable, in past Hterature.

of making these discoveries on

his

He

own,

things can lose

all

the scalp.

value, all

good books. He

will

inspiring or fecundating, or

should have the pleasure

in his

worth, charm, beauty, wisdom, cannot be

them by

at all

decide for himself

and shape

are singled out

own

our

of view. But the

become acquainted

exercise.

their

opinion that each

man must

choice exclusively.

best

which base

an individual

is

**

of

Whatever the material which

promulgate the reading of select

tion stones.

list

beheve that they are our appointed guides and mentors.

that, if left to

their point

my

It is

lists.

works which

their

founda-

assert that the

found in every

are to enter into

it

great

minds represent
intellects to

arc

foundations. If one

reason of his uniqueness.

It

who

that there are several universities

entire curricula

any foundations whatsoever, are

culture, or

necessarily those classics

I

the other hand,

of it had an extraordinary appeal.

Httle I did read

books.

on

His Emile,

it.

can find a copy with readable type.

beheve they are woefully mistaken

tions

de Quincey's. Only

is

Rousseau's Confessions, but after a

charm and

own way. What has

lost

But

or forgotten.

appeal, if

one

is

dragged to

Have you not noticed, after many heart-aches and

recommending a book to a friend the less
The moment you praise a book too highly you

disillusionments, that in
said the better

awaken

resistance in

the dose and

your

listener.

how muchand

gurus of India and Tibet,

32

it

if

is

One
it is

has to

know when

to give

to be repeated or not.

The

often pointed out, have for ages

THBY WERE ALIVE AND THBY SPOKE TO MB

practiced the high art

The same
of books

sort

is

o( discouraging

their ardent

would-be

disciples.

of strategy might well be applied where the reading

man

concerned. Discourage a

way,

in the right

that

is,

with the right end in view, and you will put him on the path that

much more

The important

quickly.

experiences, a

man is

to have, but

thing

what he

is

not which books, which

puts into

One of the most mysterious of all the intangibles

Undoubtedly

call influences.

But

attraction.

direction, perhaps
at the

it

mercy of any and every

zant of the forces and factors

Some men

another.

behavior.

is

also because

without knowing

Most men,

which

we

pushed in that

obvious that

Nor

are

influence us

we

we

are not

always cogni-

from one period

others the sense

of destiny

hardly seems to be any choice

needed to

create the influences

what we

to

themselves or what motivates their

With

in fact.

clear, so strong, that there

It is

influence.

know

never

it.

is

come under the law of

mind that when we are

influences

should be borne in

it

pulled in a certain direction

them of his own.

in Hfe

ends.

fulfill their

use the

is

so

they

word

" create " deHberately, because in certain startling instances the

j

individual has literally been

We

on

are

is

that,

friends, lovers, adventures

desire to read a

incident.

To

book

are concerned, just as with

discoveries,

all is

often provoked

by

Decisive Battles of the

Fifteen

World because a doting aimt thrust them under

not have read them

if

he detested

this aunt.

which come under one's ken, even

one individual

If a

steers straight

his nose.

Of

He may

the thousands of

early in hfe,

how

is it

that

towards certain authors and another

man reads are determined by what a

man be left alone in a room with a book, a single book, it

towards others

man is.

man is of a
He may

chooses to read are no exception.

have read Plutarch's Liues or The

titles

inextricably mixed.

the most unexpected

begin with, everything that happens to a

The books he

piece.

is

reason for introducing such

where books

and

The books

does not follow that he will read

it

because he has nothing better to

book bores him he will drop it, though he may go wellnigh mad for want of anything better to do. Some men, in reading,
do. If the

take the pains to look

create the necessary influences.

My

strange grounds here.

an abstruse element

The

obUged to

up every

reference given in the foomotes

others again never even glance at footnotes.

take arduous journeys to read a

book whose

Some men
title

will under-

alone has intrigued

33

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

them. The adventures and discoveries of Nicholas Flamel in connection with the

Book of Abraham

the Jew constitute one of the golden

pages in literature.

As

was saying, the chance remark of a

encounter, a footnote,

of memory,

and one things can set one off in pursuit of a book. There

a thousand

when one is susceptible

And there are times

are times

an unexpected

friend,

strange quirks

illness, solitude,

intimations.

put one afoot and

to any and

again

suggestions, hints,

all

when

dynamite to

takes

it

astir.

One of the great temptations, for a writer, is to read when engaged

of a book. With me it seems that the moment I
begin a new book I develop a passion for reading too. In fact, due
to some perverse instinct, the moment I am launched on a new book

in the writing

do

itch to

of a

a thousand different things

desire to escape the task

When

write and do other things.

least,

such

is

my

experience

not,

out

as is often the case,

What

of writing.

fmd

that I can

is

the creative urge seizes one

one becomes

creative in

at

directions

all

at once.
It

was

in the days before

undertook to write,

must

confess, that

reading was at once the most voluptuous and the most pernicious

of pastimes. Looking backward,

it

me

seems to

as if the

books was nothing more than a narcotic, stimulating

From

depressing and paralyzing afterwards.

A fecundating element, I might say.

it.

on putting

thought,
better

book down,

myself The more

read the

and authors too.

the ones

more

authors, to be sure,

began to reread these

bloodedly, with

bcHeve

enough

it

all

**

me

to assert

apart.

spellbinders "

foolish

period stands out, nevertheless,

34

baffled

with

the powers of analysis

Vain and

as

often

much

became. Hardly

had most adored were

and eluded me. As

new
I

read cold-

possessed.

In order,

was then naive

what makes

though

of expression

eyes.

or not, to rob them of their secret. Yes,

it

began to despise

my own powers

to beUcve that I could discover

by taking

but

began

There was always a fringe of

whose magic powers

the time approached for

have done

critical I

young man

Gradually

Often the writers

castigated mercilessly.

As

that I could

anything was good enough for me.

books

the time

A new element crept

in earnest to write, the reading habit altered.

into

reading of

at first

my

the clock tick

behavior was,

this

one of the most rewarding of

all

THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO ME

my

bouts with books.

art

of narration, about

all, I

learned something about style, about the

learned that there really

of good books.

To

way he

they are produced. Best of

a mystery involved in the creation

Even when we have

The way

nothing.

is

example, that the style

say, for

say almost nothing.

walks, the

how

and

effects

man

is

the man,

man we have

way he

writes, the

does everything,

the

speaks, the

to let his

words move you,

what you

truly are.

The most important

practice
it

of it. There

is

despair of

wonder and intoxication of the

youth in discovering

his

there

own "

**

authors

reading

when

but greater

more permanent

and quickening elements, are the perceptions and

who

art is the

child

the ecstasy and

is

than these, because combined with them are other

mature being

not to

has to say,

of any

factor in the appreciation

the

it, is

man

make you more and more

you,

encounters the world of books

first

what

to listen to

alter

way he

unique and inscrutable. The

is

important thing, so obvious that one usually overlooks

wonder about such matters but

of a

reflections

has dedicated his Hfe to the task of creation. In

Van Gogh's

letters to his brother,

amount of meditation,

analysis,

one

is

struck

by

the vast

comparison, adoration and criticism

he indulged in during the course of his brief and frenzied career

painter.

case

it

to

is

next to

as a

uncommon, among painters, but in Van Gogh's

heroic proportions. Van Gogh was not only looking

not

It is

reaches

at nature, people, objects,

methods, techniques,

but

styles

at other

men's canvases, studying

and approaches.

He

reflected

their

long and

on what he observed, and

these thoughts and observations

anything but a primitive, or a " fauve."
Like Rimbaud, he was nearer to being " a mystic in the wild state."

earnestly

penetrated his work.

It is

He was

not altogether by accident that

than a writer to

illustrate

without having any

His

life, as

point.

have chosen a painter rather

we

happens that

It

and without knowing

get

moving, more a work of

it

in the letters,

art, I

Van Gogh,

whatever, wrote one of the

literary pretensions

great books of our time,

a book.

my

would

is

that

more

he was writing

revelatory,

say, than are

famous autobiographies or autobiographical novels.

more

most of the

He

us

tells

unreservedly of his struggles and sorrows, withholding nothing.

He

displays his rare

acclaimed

more

knowledge of the

for his passion

and

painter's craft,

his vision

though he

is

than for his knowledge

35

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

of the medium. His

LIFE
in that

life,

meaning of dedication,

is

it

makes

a lesson for

all

Van Gogh

and of how few men can we say

and the same time

humble
critic,

disciple, the student, the lover, the

the analyst, and the doer of

obsessed, or possessed rather, but

He

dark.

criticize

his

to criticize, judge

The more
tell

me

own

writers, for

He

work.

fellow writers.

with them

are sincere,

one

the

men, the

fanatic

working

in the

proved, indeed, to be a
it

much

unfortunately

more I understand what others are tryii^ to

The more I write the more tolerant I grow

in their books.

my

all

and condemn.

write the

with regard to

who

he was not a

this

He may have been

and judge than those whose business

better critic
is

brother of

deeds.

at

is

one thing, that rare faculty of being able to

possessed, for

and judge

good

and the

clear the value

time.

refuse to

with those

who

"
not including " bad

am

(I

have any

traffic.)

But with those

are honestly struggling to express

I am much more lenient and understanding than in the

when I had not yet written a book. I can learn from the poorest

themselves,

days

done his utmost. Indeed, I have learned a

very great deal from certain " poor " writers. In reading their works
writer, provided he has

have been struck time and again by that freedom and boldness
it is almost impossible to recapture once one is " in harness,"

which

once one
it is

is

aware of the laws and limitations of his medium. But

in reading one's favorite authors that one becomes supremely

aware of the value of practicing the

with the right and the
sheer enjoyment

art

of writing.

Without

left eye.

One

reads then

the least diminution of the

of reading, one becomes aware of

heightening of conscioumess. In reading these

a marvellous

men the element of the

mysterious never recedes, but the vessel in which their thoughts are
contained
ecstasy,

becomes more and more

one returns to

verted into reverence.

before.

One no

transparent.

Drunk with

own work revivified. Criticism

One begins to pray as one never

his

is

con-

prayed

longer prays for oneself but for Brother Giono,

for the whole galaxy of fellow

Brother Cendrars, Brother Celine

authors, in fact.

One

accepts the uniqueness of his fellow artist

imreservedly, realizing that

one

asserts his

different

only through one's uniqueness that

One no

longer asks for something

of his beloved author but for more of the same. Even the

ordinary reader

36

it is

commonness.

testifies

to this longing.

Does he not say, on

finishing

THBY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO ME

the

last

volume of

few more books

his favorite

When,

"

forgotten manuscript

known diary, what

even the

is

author

after

"If only he had written

an author

dug up, or

a bundle

up

a cry of exultation goes

posthumous fragment

tiniest

is

of
!

or an un-

letters,

What

Even

dead some time, a

gratitude for

the perusal of an

The moment a writer

dies his Hfe suddenly becomes of momentous interest to us. His
death often enables us to see what we could not sec when he was
aUve that his Hfe and work were one. Is it not obvious that the art

author's expense account gives us a

thrill.

of

masks a profound hope and longing

resuscitation (biography)

We

are not content to let Balzac, Dickens, Dostoievsky remain

immortal in

Each age

works

their

we

want

to restore

them

in the flesh.

men of letters with

strives to join the great

its

incorporate the pattern and significance of their Hves in

Sometimes

seems

it

as

own,
its

to

own.

though the influence of the dead were more

potent than the influence of the living. If the Saviour had not been

man would

resurrected,

sity

" of resurre<jting the dead spoke

They were
eloquent

alive

way

and they spoke

which

in

me over
that we are

remained with
considering
Just as

so

no

the years.

the simplest and

most

who

have

not a strange thing to say,

dealing, in books,

The

fable

is

with signs and symbols

Fiction

on

canvas,

alive

and enjoy what

on deep

analysis,

Man continues

and they spoke

is

always closer to

to

me!

incommunicable

Is it

Man

wisdom but

aU the ranks and divisions

history, exposing the

devaluating aesthetics. Nothing,

seems or purports to be.

is

not the essence of worldly

One might go on, through

of Hterature, unmasking

They were

Is this

the purest romance.

is

fact.

the bitter sheU.

it

is

can refer to those authors

has ever truly been able to give us his Hfe and thoughts.

Autobiography
reaHty than

truly.

has ever succeeded in rendering nature

artist

no author

who

me! That

to

Him through
spoke of the " neces-

have resurrected

certainly

That Russian author

grief and longing.

myths of

science,

proves to be what

to hunger.

not strange to understand

is

not communicating with

man through words, he is communing with his feUow man and with
his Maker. Over and over again one puts down a book and one is
speechless.

Sometimes

it is

am

everything.'*

But

thinking that

this business

because the author seems " to have said

not thinking of

this sort

of reaction.

am

of becoming mute corresponds to some37

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

much

thing

deeper.

It is

from

words

the silence that

and

are drawn,

to the silence that they return, if properly used. In the interval

it is

something inexpHcable takes place

you thoroughly

Was

this

He

altered.

did

man who

this

it

we do

not,

dead,

let

us say,

by means of signs and symbols.

not magic which he possessed

Though we know

is

of you, and in departing leaves

resuscitates himself, takes possession

perhaps

possess the

still

key to

possesses

Wc

paradise.

talk a great deal

about understanding and communicating, not only

with our fellow

man but with the dead, with the imbom, with those

who
are

We believe that there

We hope that science will poillt

inhabit other realms, other universes.

mighty

secrets to

be unlocked.

We dream of a Hfe in the distant future

the way, or if not, religion.

which

from the one we

will be utterly different

now know

we

with powers unnameable. Yet the writers of books

invest ourselves

have ever given evidence not only of magical powers but of the
existence

them

own Httle
we had visited

of universes which infringe and invade our

which

universe and

are as famiUar to us as

men had no "

These

in the flesh.

though

occult " masters to initiate

diem. They sprang from parents similar to our own, they were the
products of environments similar to our own.
stand apart then

Not

What makes them

men in other

the use of imagination, for

walks of Hfe have displayed equally great powers of imagination.

Not

the mastery of a technique, for other

difficult techniques.

No,

to

me

artists

practice equally

the cardinal fact about a writer

abihty to " exploit " the vast silence which enwraps us

he

artists

Word

is

which informs

all

creation and he has rendered

Pretending to communicate with his

fellow creatures, he has unwittingly taught us to

is

Using language

not language

since nothing

Lord

" Let

me

"

Is this

So

at all

is

it

as his

but prayer.

demanded of
runs,

exhaust myself,

are doing in the beyond.

O Lord,
work

Know

the
it

A very special kind of prayer, too,

the Creator.

wonder what

commune with

instrument, he demonstrates that

no matter what

not " the heavenly

Let us cease to

38

his

who best knows that " in the beginning was the

Word was with God and the Word was God." He

in signs and symbols.

Creator.

is

Of all

the one

and the

has caught the spirit

it

all.

**

Blessings

the subject,

what

on

thee,

the idiom.

"
in singing thy praises
" of which it has been spoken
!

they, the great, the illustrious ones,

that they are

still

singing

hymns of

THEY WERE ALIVE AND THEY SPOKE TO ME

praise.

Here on

eartli

they

may have been

practicing.

There they are

perfecting their song.

i

Once

again

must mention the Russians, those obscure ones of

the Nineteenth Century,

supreme joy

to

who knew

that there

establish the perfect Hfe here

is

only one

on

earth.*

task,

one

y
,

X
* In 1880 Dostoievsky made a speech on " The Mission of Russia " in
" To become a true Russian is to become the brother of
which he said
all men, a universal man.
Our future Ues in Universality, not won by
violence, but by the strength derived from our great ideal the reuniting
of all mankind."
:

39

II

EARLY READING
It

only in the

is

books.

can

reread

The

last

recall

few years

that

Birth of Tragedy,

often said,

is

first

books

one of the authors

None of his books intrigued me

I spoke of earher, when I began

Mysteries.

who

me

as Mysteries.

as I

on were Hamsun

In that period

my favorite authors apart in

to take

first

have

as writer.

men

order to discover their secret power of enchantment, the

concentrated

certain

Wonder-

in

Hamsun,

vitally affected

much

as

singlec^out to

The Eternal Husband, Alice

The Imperial Orgy, Hamsun's

land,

have begun to reread

with accuracy the

of all, then Arthur Machen, then

Thomas Mann. When I came to reread The Birth of Tragedy I

remember being positively stunned by Nietzsche's magical use of
language. Only a few years ago, thanks to Eva SikeHanou, I became
intoxicated once again with this extraordinary book.
I

mentioned Thomas Mann. For a whole year

Castorp of The Magic Mountain

blood brother,

might even

as

say.

Uved with Hans

with a living person,

But

it

was Mann's

as

skill as

with a
a writer

of short stories, or novelettes, which most intrigued and baffled mc

during the " analytical " period I speak of At that time Death in

me

Venice

was for

years,

however,

Death

in Venice, altered radically.

worth recounting.
Paris

made

individual

name.

It

was

It is

like this

In the space of a

Mann, and

especially

a curious tale

During

my

few

of his

and perhaps
early days in

the acquaintance of a most engaging and provocative

whom

He was

beHeved to be a genius. John Nichols was

a painter. Like so

the gift of gab.

were discussing

He had

the supreme short story.

my opinion of Thomas

It

was a

many

his

Irishmen, he also possessed

privilege to listen to him,

whether he

painting, Hterature, music, or talking sheer nonsense.

when he waxed strong, his tongue

One day I happened to speak of my admiration for
Thomas Mann and, before long, I found myself raving about Death
was

in Venice.

40

flair

for invective, and,

vitrioHc.

Nichols responded with jeers and contempt. In exaspera-

EARLY READING
tion

told

him I would

get the

book and read the story aloud

to him.

He admitted he had never read it and thought my proposal an excellent one.

I shall

never forget

Before

this experience.

Thomas Mann began

had read three pages

mind you, had not

to crumble. Nichols,

a word. But reading the story aloud, and to a

whole creaking machinery which underlay

the

exposed

itself.

who

I,

thought

pure gold, found myself looking

way through

flung the

a piece of

of papier-mach^. Half-

at a piece

book on

fabrication

this

my hands

was holding in

said

suddenly

critical ear,

on

Later

the floor.

through The Magic Mountain and Buddenhrooks, works

glanced

had regarded

monumental, only to find them equally meretricious.

as

This sort of experience,

must quickly add, has happened but

seldom to me. There was one outstanding one

it

^and that

was

in connection with Three

had ever managed to find

earth I

comprehension. Yet
until the tears

came

thirty years, I picked

much

my

it

eyes.

up and

milder, lay in store for

It

blush to mention

book " funny "

had, once. Indeed,

to

The

remember

How on
my

in a Boat.
is

beyond

that

laughed

other day, after a lapse of

started to read

it

Never have

again.

a shoddier piece of tripe. Another disappointment, though

I tasted

Egg.

that

Men

came near

me on

rereading The Triumph of the

to being a rotten egg.*

But once

it

had made

me

laugh and weep.

Oh, who was I, what was I,

What I started to say is that,
that the

books

others

like

Sue, James
Flags),

in rereading,

mentioned Henty,

Rider Haggard, Marie

As

{Hnckleberry Finn and

for Poe, Jack

matters Uttle if
I

bless his

Corelli,

Imagine not having read any of these

it

find

more and more

read in childhood

name

There arc

Bulwer-Lytton, Eugene

Fenimore Cooper, Sienkiewicz, Ouida {Under Two

Mark Twain

incredible.

long to read again are the ones

and early youth.

^o

in those dreary days of long

Tom Sawyer
since

particularly).

boyhood

It

seems

London, Hugo, Conan Doyle, Kipling,

never look

should also like very

men

at their

much

works

again, f

to reread those

books which

used

It should not be inferred from this that I have turned against Sherwood
Anderson, who has meant so much to me. I have still a great admiration for
WineshuTg, Ohio and Many Marriages.
f For some mysterious reason I do, howe er, intend to read Toilers of
the Sea, which I missed when I was devouring Hugo.

his

41

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

to read aloud to

old

home

my grandfather

as

he

Ward

in the Fourteenth

sat

was about our great " hero "

recall,

if there

book

now

I recall

But

it

Without

exploits.

this

book

who was

Hve hero,

first

sworn enemy, Aguinaldo, the Fihpino

Dewey's

was

of

a doubt,
I

portrait, floating

aware of

actively

had read

was through the book on Admiral Dewey

my

battle

My Dream of

writing the chapter called "

that, in

of Farragut's heroic

acquainted with

these, I

Admiral Dewey.

probably about the

conception of Mobile was colored by

ago.

bench in our

One of

ever was such an engagement. Regarding this

Mobile " in The Air-conditioned Nightmare,

this tale

his tailor's

(for a day)

Another was about Admiral Farragut

Mobile Bay,

on

in Brooklyn.

my

that

Dewey

not

became
but our

My mother had hung

rebel.

my bed.

above the battleship Maine, over

Aguinaldo, whose likeness is

whole

fifty years

now dim in my mind, links up physically

with that strange photograph of

Rimbaud

taken in Abyssinia, the

one wherein he stands in prison-Hke garb on the banks of a stream.

did

Little

my

parents reaHze, in handing

Admiral Dewey, that they were nurturing

Beside

me our precious hero.

me the seeds of a rebel.

in

Dewey and Teddy Roosevelt, Aguinaldo stands out Hke a

He was the fu-st Enemy Number One to cross my horizon.

colossus.
I still

revere his name, just as

I still

revere the

names of Robert E.

Lee and Toussaint L'Ouverture, the great Negro hberator

fought Napoleon's picked
In this vein

Hero Worship

make room

how
?

can

Or

man's

forbear mentioning Carlyle's Heroes and

learned

life is

what

John Paul

is

Following the

And why

?
?

not

In Paris, thanks

not given in history books or

Jones.

The

spectacular story of

one of those projected books which Cendrars has

not yet written and probably never

trail

will.

The

reason

is

simple.

of this adventurous American, Cendrars amassed

such a wealth of material that he was

of

Men

for another early idol, John Paul Jones

to Blaise Cendrars,

who

worsted them.

Emerson's Representative

biographies concerning
this

men and

his travels, searching for rare

swamped by

it.

In the course

documents and buying up rare

books relating to John Paul Jones' myriad adventures, Cendrars

confessed that he had spent

by

traces,

Cendrars had

fessed finally that

42

more than

tenfold the

the publishers in advance royalties.

made

amount given him

Following John Paul Jones'

a veritable Odyssean voyage.

He

con-

he would one day either write a huge tome on

EARLY READING
very thin book, something which

the subject or a

understand

perfectly.

whom I ventured to read aloud was my grandit

I can still hear him saying to my
mother that she would regret putting all those books in my hands.
He was right. My mother did regret it bitterly, later. It was my
own mother, incidentally, whom I can scarcely recall ever seeing with
The

first

person to

Not

father.

book

that

he encouraged

who

in her hand,

me

told

one day when

years ago herselfin the toilet.

had admitted to reading in the

was

toilet,

flabbergasted.

but that

book, of all books, which she had read

that

Reading aloud
Tony,

my

my

to

boyhood

Not

that she

should have been

it

there.

friends, particularly to

was an eye-opener for me.

earhest friends,

what some discover only much

early in hfe

was reading The

World that she had read that book

Fifteen Decisive Battles of the

later,

Joey and

discovered

to their disgust

and chagrin, namely, that reading aloud to people can put them to
sleep.

Either

the books

my

voice was monotonous, either

chose were the

sort.

Inevitably

on me. Which did not discourage me,

to sleep

Nor

continuing the practice.

I

wrong

had of my

came

I still

on

make everyone

would counsel

my way, I would

first

is

see to

to
it

hold to that view. The

that a

all

means, then the luxuries.

And books

last

would

The

all

by

play games
itself

practical things

are luxuries.

is

a chapter

And

of life in a category

mean, primarily, out-of-door games

temptation to expand on

kind of book

first,

Of course I

wait.

Ah, there

which poor children play

different,

had

abet these tendencies with might and main.

But the reading of books can

To

thing

to be a carpenter, a

expect the normal youngster to dance and sing from infancy.

to play games.

from

learn to read. If I

boy learned

builder, a gardener, a hunter, a fisherman.

by

incidentally,

quietly to the conclusion that

books were not for everyone.

earth

read poorly, or

did these experiences alter the opinion

No,

friends.

little

my audience went

in the streets of a big city.

this

subject lest

the

games

I pass

up the

write another, very

However, boyhood is a subject I never tire of Neither the

remembrance of the wild and glorious games we played by day and
night in the

whom I

streets,

sometimes

nor the characters with

deified, as

whom

hobnobbed and

boys are prone to do. All

my

cxper-

43

THE BOOKS
iences

MY

IN

my

shared with

LIFE

Time and again,

amazing acumen we

comrades, including the experience of

my

writings,

have made mention of

reading.

in

the

displayed in discussing the fundamental

Hfe.

government,

ethics

on other

and morality, the nature of the

planets

these were

education was begun in the

on

days, or

street

good

Subjects such as sin, evil, reincarnation,

problems of

life

comers

food and drink to

empty

street, in

at night,

Naturally, one of the things

deity, Utopia,

My

us.

real

on cold November

lots

frequently with out skates on.

we were

was books,

forever discussing

we were then reading and which we were not even supposed to know about. It sounds extravagont to say so, I know, but it
docs seem to me that only the great interpreters of Uterature can rival

the books

the

boy

essence

in the street

of a book. In

when

my

it

comes to extracting the

humble opinion,

much

to understanding Jesus than the priest,

views on government, than the

During

my

into

this

world of books

my

one of the

first

merchant
these

of

this

world.

glossy, the type

in a beautiful

the collection of an Englishman, Isaac

tailors

who

as

had the

distinction

of New York.

books were

embossed usually in gold,

and

nearer

doors and movable shelves, of boys'

father's predecessor,

now in my mind,
thick

and

flavor

much

is

closer to Plato, in his

political figures

whole Hbrary, housed

glass

They were from

Walker,

boy

golden period of boyhood there was suddenly injected

walnut bookcase with

books.

the

of being

review them

handsomely bound, the

all

were the cover

bold and

As

clear.

designs.

titles

The paper was

In short, these books were

de luxe in every respect. Indeed, so elegantly forbidding was their

appearance, that

it

took some time before

What I am about

to relate

is

dared tackle them.

a curious thing. It has to

deep and mysterious aversion for everything English.

telling the truth

when

do with

my

beUeve

am

say that the cause of this antipathy

is

deeply

How
my disgust, on becoming acquainted with the contents

connected with the reading of Isaac Walker's Httle Hbrary.

profound was

of these books,
forgotten the

one

blank.

am

may be judged by

titles.

Just

not positive

The

is

one

correct

nature of my reaction

have completely

my

memory, and even

Country Squire. The rest

this
is

can put in a few words. For the

my life I sensed the meaning of melancholy and morbid-

first

time in

ity.

All these elegant books

44

the fact that

lingers in

seemed wrapped

in a veil

of thick fog.

EARLY READING
me

England became for

evil,

musty tomes.
and

irrational

was the primordial

It

though

on

slime,

to be honest,

life, until,

visited

had the opportunity of meeting EngHshmen on

(My

heath.*

impression of London,

first

corresponded closely to
sion

my boyhood

which has never been wholly

When I came

to Dickens, these

corroborated and strengthened.

my

picture

native

of it

an impres-

it is

first

impressions were, of course,

have very (ev/ pleasant recollections

His books were sombre,

Of them all, David Copperfield

and usually boring.

book which had been given

by

Ellis.

if I

good aunt,f which served

as a

had readjust a

A Boys History of

remember righdy, was

remember

me. There were, to be

different notion

me by

morose view of England and the English people.

of this book,

title

England,

ing, or

own

must however admit,

conception (then) of the word. Fortunately, there was one

corrective to this

The

England and

their

most enjoyable, the most nearly human, according

stands out as the

to

these

Senseless

dissipated.)

connected with the reading of Dickens.

terrifying in parts,

from

issued

all levels.

of England and the EngHsh

be, this picture

it

middle

lasted well into

shrouded in murky obscurity, in

a land

boredom. Not one ray of light

cruelty and

distinctly the pleasure this

sure, the

Henty books, which

Httle earHer,

and from which

book gave

was

also read-

gained a wholly

of the English world. But the Henty books were

concerned v^dth historical exploits, whereas the books from Isaac

Walker's collection dealt with the immediate
I

came upon Thomas Hardy's works,

the bad ones,

I mean.

Sombre,

past.

Years

tragic, full

obhged

my

"

human "

to pass judgment

picture

of the world.

on Hardy.

when

of mishaps and accidental

or coincidental misfortunes, Hardy's books caused

to adjust

later,

reUved these boyish reactions

For

all

me

once again

In the end

the air of realism

was

which

permeated his books, I had to admit to myself that they were not
" true to life." I wanted my pessimism " straight."

On returning

to

America from France

met two

were passionately fond of an EngHsh author

individuals

who

whom I had never heard

* On reading that delightful and singularly imaginative book, Land Under

England by Joseph O'Neilljust a few years back the old feeling about
England cropped up again. But this is a book by an Irishman, and an unusual

one

it is.

t This good aunt, my father's sister, also gave me The Autocrat at the Breakfast Table, a brace of books by Samuel Smiles, and Knickerbocker's History of

New

York.

45

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

ofClaude Houghton. "
At any

called.

metaphysical novelist," he

W.

Englishman, with the exception of

**

gentleman "

England.

have by

the performance

Many

me.

met

ever

is

now

my

favorites,

more's the

known

letter to the

of

Whether

his others.

His

and All Change,

pity.

here

letter will

one day be

book, was that

this

Hudson Rejoins

It is called

author

touch upon

it

appeared to give a picture of my most

The

outer circumstances

were " disguised," but the inner ones were hallucinatingly

and events in

in

some mysterious way gained

access to these facts

In the course of our correspondence, however,

soon discovered that

all his

works

reader will be surprised to learn that

Do not

Those

who

Perhaps the

are imaginative.

should think such a coincidence

the Uves and characters in fiction frequently

Of course. But still I am

know me intimately should have

correspond to actual counterparts

impressed.

thought that Claude

my life.

" mysterious."

real.

could not have done better myself For a time

Houghton had

In a

the Herd.

why this seemed to be so.

made public* What so startled me, in
explained

intimate Hfe during a certain crucial period.

first

hope to enlarge on laterwhich seems to have been

written especially /)r me.

reading

would some of

as

Way, one of

one of Claude Houghton's books

is

a subject I

This

the

picture

good or bad, Claude Houghton's books captivate

know I Am Jonathan Scrivener, which would

are less well

there

lengthy

my

read the majority of his works.

have made a wonderfiil movie,

But

Symons

Travers

profoundly

alter

^to

Americans

Julian Grant Loses His

Humanity

often

is

Claude Houghton has done more than any

rate,

think they

a look at this book.

And now,

for

no

reason, unless

reminiscences, there leaps to

it

be the afterglow of boyhood

name of Rider Haggard.

I made up
who had me in his thrall The

mind

the

one of the authors on the Hst of A Hundred Books

He

is

for

GaUimard.

There was a writer

contents of his books are vague and fuzzy.

a

few

titles

Yet when

At

best

can

recall

only

She, Ayesha, King Solomons Mines, Allan Quatermain.

think of

them

get the same shivers as

do when

rehve the meeting between Stanley and Livingstone in darkest Africa.

I

am

certain that

when

reread him, as

* Not to be confused with the " Letter "

New York, 1950.

Lake,

46

expect to do shortly,

Argus Books,

Inc.,

shall

Mohegan

EARLY READING
my memory

did with Henty, that

fmd,

as I

alive

and fecund.

This adolescent period over,

strike

close to

interesting.

High

Street,

Deems Taylor

Oddly enough,
put into

my

man who

put

**

father,

is

work of Flaubert.

Du

of

later.

my

Fortunately, I

Du Maurier
which

did

this

volume and

the

payment of

a small debt

he

He had

father in

course,

past fifty.
It is

Moll Flanders, which

to return to

Nadja,

Maurier offered

et Pecuchet,

was

given

disgusted.

With

the Sentimental

Somewhere Bernard Shaw

says

One of those he cited was this famous

Tom Jones and

another of those books, Hke

intend one day to read, particularly since

have " come of age."

But

the

books cannot be appreciated, and should therefore not

be read, until one

as

by

walking one night

the track of

me on

hands Flaubert's Botiuard

Education goes a queer association.

that certain

more than

subject.

the

Sentimental Education to

My

how,

relates

" declined the offer."

says,

not open until thirty years

owed.

is

can imagine with dread what Henry James would

have made of such a

also

unique

and proceeded to unfold the plot of

a novel,

"James," he

Trilby.'*

Ibbetson are a

Bayswater, with Henry James,

an idea for

should say.

that

inscrutable,

In the introduction to Peter Ibbetson, pubHshed

Library,

his friend

and Peter

for his drawings in " Punch,"

renowned

illustrator,

Trilby

so.

now

reasons

That they should have come from a middle-aged

brace of books.

Modem

doing

difficult to

anywhere near

effect

by Rider Haggard's works. For

came

Trilby

become amazingly

becomes increasingly

an author capable of producing an

created

in

it

will

Rider Haggard

by Andr6 Breton, should

Strange that a

way be

in any

book such

linked with the

emotional experiences engendered in reading Rider Haggard's

works.
length

think

it is

or was

it

Nadja will always

in

The Rosy Crucifixion that

in Remember
cast

one,

is

?
I

for example,

upon

have dwelt

upon the

read

rather terrifyingly

disoriented in the pitch blackness

of which he

Remember

over me. Each time

same inner turmoil, the same

that seizes

to

it I

at

spell

some

which

go through the

deHdous sensation

finding himself completely

of a room with every square inch

thoroughly famiUar.

I recall

singling out a section

of
47

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB

the
*

\)

book which reminded mc

this

statement

was an

my

in

not quite

is

on

essay

my fint piece of prose, or at

vividly of

was to submit to an

least the first I

editor.* (As

my

true, because

Nietzsche's Anti-Christ,

father's shop.

Also, the

piece

first

write,

very

which

being a

critical article

which, to

my

which

ever submitted

by

few

years,

sent to the Black Cat magazine

and

amazement, was accepted and paid for to the tune of

$1.75, or something like that,

sufficient at the

new

that

of prose

wrote for myself

of writing

to an editor antedates the aforementioned piece

I realize

piece

first

time to

set

this

me on

hat into the gutter, where

it

remuneration being

trifling

to

fire,

make me throw

a brand

was immediately crushed by

passing truck.)

Why an author of the magnitude of Andr^ Breton should be Unked

my mind with Rider Haggard,

in

would

require pages to explain.

of all authors,

is

something which

Perhaps the association

far-fetched after aU, considering the peculiar sources

is still,

to

my way

which accompany the

is

text

one of the few books

of the original
it

not so

gathered inspiration, nourishment and corroboration.

Surrealists

Nadja

is

from which the

spell.

of thinking, a unique book. (The photos

have a value

all their

own.) At any

rate, it

have reread several times with no rupture

This in

do

itself, I

believe,

is

sufficient to

mark

out.

The word I have dcHbcrately withheld, speaking of Rider Haggard

and of Nadja,
the plural,

" mystery." This word, both in the singular and

is

have reserved in order to

treat

of

my

delightful, all-

Many

engrossing associations with dictionary and encyclopaedia.

is

the time

or subjects.

whole days

spent

Here

at the

again, to be truthfiil, I

wonderfiil days were passed at

Joe O'Regan.

pubHc Hbrary looking up words

must say

home, with

Bleak, wintry days,

my

that tht

most

boon companion

when food was

scarce

and

all

hope or thought of obtaining employment had vanished. Mingled

with the dictionary and encyclopaedia bouts are recollections of other
days or nights spent entirely in playing chess or ping pong, or
painting water colors

One morning,

which we turned out

scarcely out

of bed,

Wagnall's unabridged dictionary to look up a

like

monomaniacs.

Funk &
word which had come

turned to

my huge

* The man to whom I sent it was Frands K. Hackctt, and never shall
forget his discreet but encouraging reply, God bless him I

48

BARLY RBADING
to

my mind

what

on awakening. As

masquerading in the guise of a book

eternal sceptic, a discussion ensued

was because of Joe O'Regan,

question

at

my side, Joe the

lasted the entire

who had

me

stimulated

my

had taken the dictionary for granted, much

had beheved,

and

of,

or shall

of a word

was not

**

say the

truth," about a

word. But

to derivation, thereby stumbling

of earUer meanings, the whole framework of lexico"

In reaching the earUest " origin

slide.

observed that one was up against a stone wall.

possible that the

language

Icelandic

!)

Surely

words we were looking up had entered

at the points indicated

Hebrew or

as Sanskrit,

from the

moment

one does the Bible.

as

most amazing changes in meaning, upon contradictions

the

reversals

human

from derivation

graphy began to sHther and

it

suspicions

this

everyone does, that in obtaining a definition one

as

that day, shifting

upon

so often to

first

about the value of the dictionary were aroused. Prior to

got the meaning

day and

definitions never slackening.

had blindly accepted, that

that I

all

With Joe

which

more and more

night, the search for

It

one word led to another, for

"
fonn of " circuit game

usual,

the dictionary if not the subtlest

is

Icelandic (and

was nothing,

in

To

get back only as far

what wonderful words stem

my opinion.

History had been

pushed back more than ten thousand years, and here were we,
stranded at the vestibule, so to speak, of

many words of

modem

employed by the Greeks, had

To

thing to give us pause.

was

lost all significance

be

brief, it

That so
freely

in itself some-

soon became apparent that

meaning of a word changed or disappeared

the

times.

metaphysical and spiritual connotation,

entirely,

or became

the very opposite, according to the time, place, culture of the

people using the term.

it,

how we

see

it

factually, historically,

one

who

me

get

It

seems

on

was only

or

least to

from

The

simple truth that

understand

ftiller,

paedia.

deeper treatment

The
the

jumping from meaning

we were

we must

To know what

tracking

given

The

But

let

to meaning, in

down,

that for

have recourse to the encyclo-

defining process, after

cross-reference.

know

this is the philologist.

dictionary to encyclopaedia

natural, in

is

appHes to language too.

statistically,

observing the uses of the words

a

what we make

life is

with our whole being, and not what

all,

is

one of reference and

word means one has to

hedge it in. The meaning

a specific

words which, so to speak,

49

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

is

never directly given

And

this

is

But the encyclopaedia

firm ground
discover

is

never known.

we would

Ah, there perhaps

be on

We would look up subjects, not words. We would

whence

had fought and

is

inferred, implied, or distilled out.

is

it

probably because the original source

which men

arose these mystifying symbols over

and

bled, tortured

killed

Now

one another.

there

a wonderful article in the Encyclopaedia Britannica (the celebrated

on " Mysteries "* and,

edition)

amusing and instructive day

if

one wishes to

at the Ubrary,

by

all

pass a pleasant,

means

start

with

word such as ** mysteries." It will lead you far and wide, it will
send you home reeling, indifferent to food, sleep and other claims
of the autonomic system. But you will never penetrate the mystery
And if, as the good scholar usually does, you should be impelled
*'
authorities " selected by the encyclopaedic knowto go from the
**
authorities " on the same subject, you will soon find
alls to other
your awe and reverence for the accumulated wisdom housed in
a

encyclopaedias withering and crumbling.

become m^fiant
all,

entombed

are these pundits

the final authorities

always be oneself.
field,"

of

in the face

this

well that one should

in the encyclopaedias

Decidedly not

It is

Who,

buried learning.

The

after

Are they

final authority

must

These wizened pundits have "labored in the

and they have garnered much wisdom.

But

it is

neither

sum of human wisdom (on any

They have worked Hke ants and
subject) which they offer us.
beavers, and usually with as Uttle humor and imagination as these
humble creatures. One encyclopaedia selects its authorities, another
divine

wisdom nor even

the

other authorities. Authorities are

always a drug on the market.

When

you have done with them you know a Uttle about the subject of
your quest and a great deal more about things of no account.

More

often than not

If you gain at
that faculty

you end up

in despair, doubt and confusion.

in the sharper use of the questioning faculty,

all, it is

which Spengler

extols

The more
contribution

think

and which he

made him by
of it the more

the chief contribution

made me by

distinguishes as

Nietzsche.
I

beUeve that the unwitting

the makers of encyclopaedias

foster the lazy, pleasurable pursuit

of learning

the

most

was to
foolish

* Even Annie Besant, I noticed just the other day, makes mention of
her book Esoteric Christianity.

article, in

50

this

EARLY READING
To

of all pastimes.

one
is

read the encyclopaedia was like taking a drug

of those drugs of which they say that

non habit-forming.

of old,

think the use of

from

to enjoy surcease

opium

then

would

no

evil effects,

preferable.

one wishes to

If

to stimulate the imagination

care,

what could be more conducive

health

has

it

Like the sound, stable, sensible Chinese

moral and

to mental,

say the judicious use of

opium

is

relax,

and

spiritual
far better

than the spurious drug of the encyclopaedia.

Looking back upon

not

recall

spent

my

*'

my

my

first visit to

days in the Hbrary

a Hbrary

curious

Hken them

that I

do

to the days

by an opium addict in his Httle cell. I went regularly for

dose " and I got it. Often I read at random, whatever book

Sometimes I buried myself in technical works,

to hand.
or in handbooks, or the " curiosa " of Hterature. There was one

came

room of

shelf in the reading

I

the

New

York 42nd

many

peoples) and

times,

impeUed

and indeed

which

as if

devoured Hke a starved

by an ardent

mission,

it

was imperative, so deep was

me

might

set

word Hke

me

would
depths

stellar

Somenomen-

trance

to study

and one

varieties

encountered for the

ecliptic,"

off on a chase that

stranded eventuaUy in the

Here

**

in

seemed imperative

it

my

the habits of moles or whales, or the thousand

of ophidians.

countries,

rat.

burrowed

There were other times when

clatures alone.

time,

Street Hbrary,

which was packed with mythologies (of many

recaU,

last

first

for weeks, leaving

this side

of Scorpio.

must diverge to make mention of those

which one stumbles on accidentaHy and which, so

books

Httle

great

is

their

impact, one esteems above whole rows of encyclopaedias and other

compendiums of human knowledge.

These books, microcosmic

may

be Hkened to precious stones

in size but

monumental

in effect,

hidden in the bowels of the earth.

crystalline or

**

immutable and

number and

Like gems, these books have a

primordial " character which gives them a simple,

eternal quaHty.

They

are almost as

variety as crystals in nature.

random which

came upon much

later

will

Hmited in

mention two

than the period

at

speak

my thought. The one is Symbols of Revelation,

whom I met in London under pecuHar circum-

of but which iUustrate

by Frederick
stances
I

doubt

Carter,

the other

is

The Roundy by Eduardo Santiago, a pseudonym.

if there are a

hundred people

in this

world

who would
51

THEBOOKSINMYLIFE
be interested in the

though the

of,

of

this

spelling

type,

reads

cold shivers,

have spoken

and

work

the error in

is

the top of every page, in bold

London) which

is

their failure to define,

and

me

usage,

of defini-

since the average reader

give the three definitions offered

unabridged dictionary
" I. Return to or toward

mask (from

given on page 40.

word as
by Funk

not apt to recognize the import of such a

let

freakish,

apt to give the lovers of Blake the

is

some length of dictionary

at

know

the freakish things connected

the reproduction of WiUiam Blake's Hfe

is

one of the perennial themes

Something even more

apocastasis.

the National Portrait Gallery,

Since

At

the printer.

however, something which

tions

is

unique and limited edition of the

made by

it

one of the strangest

It is

One of

and philosophy.

religion

with

book.

latter

subject, apocatastasis,

is

apocatastasis,

&

"Wagnall's

re-establishment

"2. Theology.
of

God of

"

3.

The

who

those

In a footnote

final restoration to holiness

condition

and the favor

periodic return of a revolving

on page 4 Santiago
(Paris,

" Apocatastasis

is

1930)

body

to the

gives the following

from

Virgile

word which

the

the Chaldeans had already

used to describe the return of the planets, on the

to the points symmetrical to their departure.

the

or

place

orbit."

its

by J. Carcopino

previous

died impenitent.

The

Astronomy.

same point in

complete restoration.

celestial sphere,

It is also

the

word

Greek doctors employed to describe the return of the patient

to health."

for Frederick Carter's Uttle hook Symbols of Revelation

may be of interest to know that it was the author of this book
who suppUed D. H. Lawrence with invaluable material for the

As

it

writing of Apocalypse.

me, through

his

Without knowing, Carter has

also given

book, the material and inspiration with which

hope one day to write Draco and the Ecliptic. This, the seal or capstone to my " autobiographical novels," as they are called, I trust
be a condensed, transparent, alchemical work, thin

will prove to
as a

wafer and absolutely

The
I

greatest

suppose

52

it is

of

air-tight.

all Httle

books of course

is

the Tao Teh ChUng.

not only an example of supreme

wisdom but unique


EARLY READING
in

its

condensation of thought.

holds

own

its

by other

As

philosophy of Hfe

not only

it

with the bulkier systems of thought propounded

my

great figures of the past but, in

in every respect.

from other philosophies of hfe

follower of Lao-tse

a few centuries

we do not
we come to

later,

these lofty regions again until

Rabelais, being a physician as well as a philosopher

Rabelais.

humor

imaginative writer, makes

appear what in truth

But beside the suave,

great emancipator.

it is

Sermon on

Mount

the

is

but

may

It

doubt that

it

and
the

The

perhaps the only short piece of writing

which can be compared with

health.

sage, spiritual iconoclast

of old China, Rabelais seems Hke an uncouth Crusader.

and

apart

sets it

Aside from the celebrated

humor.

who comes

meet with humor in

mind, surpasses them

which wholly

has one element

It

Lao-tse's miniature gospel

be a more

spiritual

contains greater

wisdom.

of wisdom

message than Lao-tse's,

It is,

of course, utterly

devoid of humor.

Two

books of pure hterature, which belong in a category

Httle

to my way of thinking, are Balzac's Seraphita and

Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha. Seraphita I first read in French, at a
period when my French was none too good. The man who put
the book in my hands employed that artful strategy I spoke of
he said almost nothing about the book except that it was
earHer
Coming from him, this was incentive enough.
a book for me.
It was indeed a book " for me." It came exactly at the right moment
all

own,

their

in

my

and

life

it

had

precisely the desired effect.

have

since, if

may put it thus, " experimented " with it by handing it to people

who were not ready to read it. I learned a great deal from these
I

experiments.

a
to

man

or

make

never
few.

it

its

all

who,

to kiss the

begin

way

unaided.

read.
it

be

real

it

converts

Indeed,

its

virtue Hes in this, that

of its career

it

by

a chosen

had a wide vogue.

famiHar with the exclamation of that young Viennese

accosting Balzac in the street, begged permission

hand

it is

Either

Propaganda can do nothing

effectively read except

true that in the beginning

Are we not

and

one of those books, and they are rare

"
**

bores and disgusts him.

any time will

It is

is

their

more widely

it

at

student

out,

Seraphita

which make

indeed,

that

wrote Seraphita

Vogues, however, soon die

fortimate they do, because only then does a

book

journey on the road to immortaHty.

53

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

Siddhartha I first read in

German
any

cost because, so

India.

for

It

me,

Germanafter

for at least thirty years.

was

had never been

it,

in

had to read

of Hesse's

fruit

EngHsh* and

it

was

visit

at

to

difficult

hands on the 1925 French version which

had been published by Grasset in

with two copies of

was the

told, it

translated into

at the time, to lay

not having read any

was a book

It

Suddenly

Paris.

German, one

found myself

me by my

sent

translator,

Kurt Wagenseil, the other sent by the wife of George Dibbem,

author of Quest.

when

had hardly finished reading the

my friend Pierre Laleure,

copies of the Grasset edition.

that language, discovering to

original version

a bookseller in Paris, sent

I

my

me several

immediately reread the book in

delight that

had missed nothing

of the flavor or substance of the book because of my very rusty knowledge of German.
truth in

is

Often

since I

have remarked to

only in Turkish, Finnish or Hungarian,

understood

friends,

and there

the exaggeration, that had Siddhartha been obtainable

it

just the same,

though

would have read and

know

not a

word of any of

these outlandish tongues.

It is

not quite accurate to say that

was the word Siddhartha, an

It

epithet

my

with the Buddha, that whetted

accepted Jesus Christ,

Buddha.
tion never

The

my conception

mean words such

I still

twelve

disciples.

me

for

it

seemed to

of sorrow

bum

had

that appella-

that was more

out those other words

redemption, and so on.

guru to a Christian

saint

at

length of Siddhartha but,

I shall

the benefit of those

a

To

this

or the best of the

the guru there is, and always will

me, of " enlightenment."
as

be, this

with Seraphita^

therefore content myself

who know how

to read

few words Ufted from an autobiographical sketch

by Hermann Hesse in the September,

54

before

About

with quoting

An

Long

Somehow,

A man

that the less said the better.

between the lines

appetite.

wrongly, with the founder of Christianity.

should like to speak

know

Jesus.

as sin, guilt,

prefer the

aura, so precious to

to India.

had always associated

had embraced Lao-tse and Gautama the

fit

of the gentle Jesus. The word enHghtenment struck

chord in

associated, rightly or

day

which

Prince of Enlightenment

seemed to

a responsive

conceived an overwhelming

book because Hermann Hesse had been

desire to read this

English version

is

1946, issue of Horizon, London.

nov/ promised by

New

Directions.

EARLY READING
Another reproach they [his friends] levelled at me I also
found to be quite just
they accused me of lacking in a
sense of reahty.
Neither my writings nor my paintings
do in actual fact conform to reaHty, and when I compose
I often forget all the things that an educated reader demands
of a good book and above all I am lacking in a true
:

respect for reality.

inadvertently

I see that

have touched on one of the vices or

Lao-tse says that "

weaknesses of the too passionate reader.

a

man with

hand,

with

easily seen that there will

it is

true, alas
all

anguish,

Each time

writing mania.

book, and inform

men

But

in fact, that

by

my

or for which

As

editors,

critics,

recommendation
lose interest in a

vmte

pubHshers

this

it,

act

on

More and more,

these rash impulses. It

to be

course

always put

it

unwritten law runs thus

too,

whom

They

if that other

to myself this

him

What

sustenance

books which others find on

It

was because of

my

"

their

"

am

way

them

!)

have

Of

"

book

(Some

situation,
I

me

identify

trying to aid.

me, not

Do

be nothing

understand what makes

are aiding

so-and-so or so-and-so has not read this

give

doomed.*

law underlying the

of these authors, to reveal a ridiculous aspect of the

been dead a long time.

the ones

sadly enough, the fact that

is,

myself with the poor author

are

Any book which I sponsor,

not tamper with the destiny of another, even

but a book."

The very

alone sufficient to cause editors

is

book.

a profound and just

best I can put

good

have come to beheve,

a preface or review, seems

is

letter-

Admirable, you think

it.

enthusiastic howls.

think perhaps there

situation.

my

after closing a

and waste of time.

also sheer folly

my

new book

have spoken of

down,

I sit

Only too

it."

more work, more

create

^I

and sundry about

all

it is

and publishers to

me

how

have told

seek to interest

least affected

be no end to

frustration for myself.

when

takes the business in

impelled to advocate a

I feel

the powers that are in

more

Perhaps.

world

a taste for reforming the

What a pity that

What joy it would

never stop to think that the

own may

serve equally well.

overheated enthusiasm for such books

* An exception is Really the Blues, which, in the French version, carries

form of a preface, under my signature. This book, I am told,
selling Uke hot cakes. However, I take no credit for this
it would have

a letter, in the
is

sold

as

well without

my

preface.

55

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFB

The Absolute

as

and

script),

others,

and mercurial

particularly, I

able.

many
of

who

and publishers

editors

dictate to the

Concerning two writers

or shall not read.

shall

only in manu-

exists

still

began to plague the perverse

others, that I

have penned the most ardent, urgent

letters

imagin-

schoolboy could not have been more enthusiastic and

naive than
tears.

of Anais Nin (which

tribe

we

world what

Quest, Blue Boy, Interlinear to Caheza

Collective^

de Vaca, the Diary

In writing one of these

I.

letters, I recall, I actually

Do you

edition.

suppose

unrestrained emotion

It

individual

this

took him just about

was moved by
six

months

to the conclusion, with deep regret (the

my man

was unsuitable

the excellent sales enjoyed

whom

Faulkner,

was

^find

how

for their

by Homer

it

same old song),

Gratuitously they cited

list.

(long dead) and William

The impHcation

they had chosen to publish.

us writers like these

Fantastic as

which

employ, that " they " (always the dark hones) had

editors often

that

my

to answer,

in that matter of fact, cold-blooded, hypocritical fashion

come

shed

was addressed to the editor of a well-known pocket book

It

may

sound,

it is

we

and

will

jump

to the bait

nevertheless the truth.

It is

exaaly

editors think.

However,

this vice

of mine,

with those of poHtical

and other detestable

am

my

Blaise

it, is

a harmless one compared

miUtary humbugs, vice crusaders

In broadcasting to the world

types.

admiration and affection,

Uving French writers

as I see

fanatics,

gratitude

my

and reverence, for two

Cendrars and Jean Giono

I fail

to

may be guilty of indiscretion, I may be regarded as a naive dolt, I may be criticized justly
or unjustly for my taste, or lack of it
I may be guilty, in the
highest sense, of " tampering " with the destiny of others
I may
be writing myself down as one more ** propagandist," but^how
am I injuring anyone I am no longer a young man^ I am, to
be exact, fifty-eight years of age. (" Je me nomme Louis Salavin.")
see that I

doing any serious harm.

Instead

contrary

of growing more dispassionate about books,

is

taking place.

my

Perhaps

find the

extravagant statements do

But then I was never what is

Mine is a rough touch honest

contain an element of insensitivity.

called

and

" discreet " or " deUcate."

sincere, in

any

case.

And

so,

i(l

am

guilty, I

advance of my friends Giono and Cendrars.

56

beg pardon in

beg them to disown

EARLY READING
me

should

back

my

my

bring ridicule upon their heads.

words.

whole

The

But

will not hold

course of the previous pages, the course of

hfe, indeed, leads

me

to this declaration

of love and

adoration.

57

Ill

CENDRARS

BLAISE

Cendrars was

the

first

and the

stay in Paris,*

man

saw on leaving

few minutes before catching the

was having a
d'Orleans

me

when Cendrars hove

had just

my

my

him of

told

Nothing could have given

intention to visit Greece.

back and drank in the music of

me

come from

always seemed to

his

hotel near the Porte

In

greater joy than this unexpected last-minute encounter.

a few words
sat

in sight.

my

up, during

Paris.

Rocamadour and

train for

drink on the terrasse of

last

me

French writer to look

last

Then

sonorous voice which to

a sea organ.

In those

last

few

minutes Cendrars managed to convey a world of information,

and with the same warmth and tenderness which he exudes in

books.

Like the very ground under our

honeycombed with
him sitting there in

all

perhaps taking
I

my

manner of subterranean

shirt-sleeves,

elapse before hearing

from him

last

look

in his

own

That

by

my

again, never

translated

at a

who knows

was

My first taste of him

when my French was none

time

from one

comer of

Boulevard Edgar Quinet, that

that

it

was in

read

it

slowly, with

cafe to another.

It

was

the rue de la Gaiete and the

began

Should Cendrars ever read these

know

dreaming that

of Cendrars before arriving

Httle French.

side, shifting

in the Caf^ de la Liberte,

perhaps, to

left

began with Moravagine, a book by no means

easy to read for one

a dictionary

passages.

never dreaming that years would

to say, almost nothing.

is

language came

too proficient.

his

thoughts were

at Paris.

had read whatever was

in France,

feet, his

lines

it.

he

remember well

may be

that dingy hole

the day.

pleased, touched
I first

opened

his

book.
Moravagine was probably the second or third book which

attempted to read in French.

about eighteen years,

*

58

lived in Paris

reread

Only
it.

had

the other day, after a lapse

of

What was my amazement

to

from March, 1930, to June, 1939.

BLAISE CENDRARS
discover

remember

French was null

as clearly as the

of page 77 (Editions

There was

also

this

Immediately
engraved in

my

it.

one of the passages

It

begins at the top

brought some reUef at the

that

start.

boundless despair possessed me.

my

convey anything to you,

two

think of

them not

I cite

later.

dear Cendrars

la

i)

more deeply

other passages, even

mind, from Une Nuit dans

about three years

memory

read

I first

is

the water, gurgling at intervals, in the

water-closet pipes.

(Does

day

Here

Grasset, 1926).

you of things

I tell

my memory

whole passages were engraved in

that

And I had thought my

Foret* which

to brag of

my

read

powers of

but to reveal an aspect of Cendrars which his English

and American readers probably do not suspect the existence of

1.

the freest

I,

man

that exists, recognise that there

is

always something that binds one

that Hberty, independence do not exist, and I am full of contempt for, and at
the same time take pleasure in, my helplessness.
:

More and more

2.

contemplative

life.

reaHse that

am

have always led the

Brahmin

a sort of

in reverse,

meditating on himself amid the hurly-burly, who, with

all

Or

his strength,

disciplines himself

punching

what
rates

at emptiness,

science,

what

watches

his

how

existence.

furiously, calmly,

What

form.

balance, the ease with

Later, one must learn

and scorns

who,

the boxer with his shadow,

virtuosity^

which he

accele-

take punishment with

to

I, I know how to take punishment

and with serenity I fructify and with serenity destroy
myself in short, work in the world not so much to enjoy

equal imperturbability,

as

me

to

make

pleasure,

others enjoy

not

my

(it's

own).

others*

Only

reflexes

that give

a soul full of despair

can ever attain serenity and, to be in despair, you must

have loved a good deal and 5//// love the ti'orld.'f

These

last

two

passages have

akeady and will no doubt be

go by.

They

are

many

times

more

memorable ones and thoroughly

own. Those who know only

Trans-siberian,

probably been cited

cited

which

are

Sutter s Gold,

about

* Editions du Verseau, Lausanne,

t Italics mine.

^all

the

many

times

as the years

the author's

Panama and

American reader

On

the

gets to

1929.

59

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

passages why
man has not been translated more fully. Long before I attempted
to make Cendrars better known to the American pubHc (and to the
world at large, I may well add), John Dos Passos had translated and
illustrated with water colors Panama, or the adventures of my seven

know, may indeed wonder on reading the foregoing

this

uncles.'^

However, the primary thing to know about

that

he

man of many

is

He

parts.

also a

is

Blaise Cendrars

man of many

is

books,

**
and
kinds of books, and by that I do not mean " good
" bad " but books so different one from another that he gives the

many

impression of evolving in

all

An evolved man,

directions at once.

Certainly an evolved writer.

truly.

His

life itself

individual

who

The most
solitudes

of life.

logic

has led a super-dimensional Ufe

of

gregarious
")

And this

reads like the Arabian Nights* Entertainment.

A man

men and

yet

is

also a

soUtary.

bookworm.
(" O mcs

of deep intuition and invincible

Life fu^t

The

logic.

and foremost. Life always with a

capital L.

That's Cendrars.

To
home

follow his career from the time he sHps out of his parents*
in Neufchatel, a

Occupation when he

boy of fifteen or
secretes

sixteen, to the days

of the

himself in Aix-en-Provence and

silence, is something to make

The itinerary of his wanderings is more difficult
to follow than Marco Polo's, whose trajectory, incidentally, he
seems to have crossed and recrossed a number of times. One of

imposes on himself a long period of

one's head spin.

the reasons for the great fascination he exerts over

me

is

the resem-

blance between his voyages and adventures and those which

associate in

memory with

Wonderful Lamp. The amazing experiences which he

the characters in his books, and

have

all

which often

as

attributes to

not he has shared,

the qualities of legend as well as the authenticity of legend.

Worshipping Ufe and the truth of

author of our time to revealing the
deed.

Sinbad the Sailor or Aladdin of the

He

restores to

contemporary

the imaginative and the fabulous.

life,

he comes

common
life

closer than

source of

any

word and

the elements of the heroic,

His adventures have led

him

to

nearly every region of the globe, particularly those regarded as

* See chapter 12, " Homer of the Trans-siberian,"

Cape & Harrison Smith, New York, 1923,

69

Orient Express

Jonathan

Blaise Ccndrars

BLAISE CBNDRARS
(One must read

dangerous or inaccessible.

including

types,

murderers,

bandits,

has consorted with

all

and other

revolutionaries

He has tried out no less than thirty-six metiers,

own words, but, like Balzac, gives the impression of
metier. He was once a juggler, for example on

of fanatic.

varieties

according to his

knowing every

the English music-hall stage

making

his early life especially

He

of this statement.)

to appreciate the truth

d^but there

his

same time

at the

that Chaplin

was

he was a pearl merchant and a smuggler

he was a plantation owner in South America, where he made a

fortune three times in succession and lost

he had made

it.

But read

his Hfe

There

it
is

even more rapidly than

more

in

it

than meets the

eye.

Yes, he

is

an explorer and investigator of the ways and doings of

men. And he has made himself such by planting himself in the

midst of

life,

by taking up

his lot

a superb, painstaking reporter he

What
man who would scorn the
of Hfe." He has the faculty of

with

is,

his fellow creatures.

this

thought of being called " a student

getting " his story " by a process of osmosis

Which

nothing deliberately.

is

always interwoven with the other man's.

the art of distillation, but

he seems to seek

why, no doubt,

what he

To

his

be

own

sure,

he

story

vitally interested in

is

is

possesses
is

the

alchemical nature of all relationships. This eternal quest of the trans-

mutative enables
it

causes

him

him

to reveal

men to

themselves and to the world

to extol men's virtues, to reconcile us to their faults

and weaknesses, to increase our knowledge and respect for what

essentially

He is

world.
faculties

the

human,

first

the " reporter

of poet,

seer

**

par excellence because he combines the

and prophet.

An innovator

to give testimony, he has

pioneers,

the

dear to us "

adventurers,

real

contemporaries.

More

le bel

and

made known
I

initiator,

among our
made

can think of he has

aujourd'hui."
all levels

he always found time to read.

long voyages, in the depths of the Amazon, in the deserts

he knows them

on

ever

to us the real

the real discoverers

than any writer

Whilst performing on

jungle,

is

to deepen our love and imderstanding of the

all,

(I

On

imagine

those of the earth, those of the spirit), in the

on trains, trams, tramps and ocean

museums and libraries of Europe, Asia and

the broad pampas,

liners,

in the great

Africa,

he has buried himself in books, has ransacked whole archives,

6t


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
has photographed rare documents, and, for
stolen invaluable books, scripts,

know, may have

all I

documents of

kinds

all

^why not,

considering the enormity of his appetite for the rare, the curious, the

forbidden

He

how

has told us in one of his recent books

Boches

destroyed or carried

!)

man like

Ubrary, precious to a

off,

Germans

the

(les

forget which, his precious

Cendrars

who

most

loves to give the

when referring to a passage from one of his favorite

Thank God, his memory is aHve and functions Hke a faithful

precise data

books.

An incredible memory,

machine.

more

his

recent books

Le

linguer,

as will testify those

La Main Couple, VHomnte

La

Lotissement du Ciel,

who have

read

Foudroye, Bottr-

Banlieue de Paris.

On the sidewith

Cendrars it seems as though almost everything

of account has been done " on the side " ^he has translated the works

of other writers, notably the Portuguese author, Ferreira de Castro

{Foret Vierge)

friend of
loi

which

It is

a sort

and our

own

Al Jennings, the great outlaw and bosom

O. Henry.* What
in English

is

wonderful translation

of secret collaboration between Cendrars and the innermost

being of Al Jennings. At the time of writing

it,

Cendrars had not yet

met Jennings nor even corresponded with him.

book,

Hors-la-

is

Shadows with O. Henry.

called Through the

must say

in passing,

overlooked. There

is

(This

which our pocket book

a fortune in

it,

unless

am all wet,

another

is

and

would

it

be comforting to think that part of this fortune should fmd

into

have

editors

its

way

Al Jennings' pocket.)

One of the most

his abihty

fascinating aspects

of Cendrars' temperament

and readiness to collaborate with a fellow

him, shortly

after the first

La Sirene

What

of Le5 Chants

World War,

an opportunity

artist.

is

Picture

editing the pubHcations of

To him we owe

an edition

de Maldoror, the first to appear since the original private

pubhcation by the author in 1868.

In everything an innovator,

always meticulous, scrupulous and exacting in his demands, whatever

issued

from the hands of Cendrars

collector's item.

Hand in hand with

goes another quaHty

tures.

Whether it be

promise, Cendrars
* Cendrars has

62

is

at

La Sirene

is

now

this capability for

the abiUty, or grace, to make the

a criminal, a saint, a

the

first

to look

also translated

him

man of genius,
up, the

first

a valuable

collaboration
first

over-

a tyro with

to herald him,

Al Caponc's autobiography.

BLAISE CENDRARS
the

to aid

first

him

warmth

justifiable

honor than dear

in the

way

here.

No

of Tropic of Cancer, knocked

I

who,

(Or perhaps

it

was

desires.

me

speak with

more

signal

shortly after the pubHcation

my door one day to extend the hand

at

forget that

book which appeared under

after.

most

writer ever paid

Blaise Cendrars

of firiendship. Nor can

the

the person

before

first

of

tender, eloquent review

his signature in

he appeared

Orbes shortly there-

at the studio in the Villa

Seurat.)

There were times when reading Cendrars

which happens
wring

my hands

implacably

rarely

in order to

my

tracks again

and again, just

as

gunman pressing a rod against one's spine. Oh, yes,

carried away by exaltation in reading a man's work. But

am often
am alluding now
am

in

something

this is

down

with anguish or with despera-

despair,

me

and

put the book

as a

to something other than exaltation.

of a sensation in which
I

that

with joy or

Cendrars has stopped

tion.

me

to

talking

all

am

talking

and confused.

one's emotions are blended

me

of knockout blows. Cendrars has knocked

cold.

Not once, but a number of times. And I am not exactly a ham, when
it comes to taking it on the chin
Yes, mon cher Cendrars, you not
!

only stopped me, you stopped the clock.

It

has taken

me

days,

weeks, sometimes months, to recover from these bouts with you.

Even

years later,

blow and
left

me

better

feel the

can put

scarred, dazed,

become.

my

old smart.

hand

You

to the spot

where

you had put the Indian sign on me.

with chin outstretched

caught the

punch-drunk. The curious thing

know youthrough your booksthe more

It is as if

battered and bruised

" to take

it."

me
is

you

that the

susceptible

come forward

/ am your meat,

as I

have so

And it is because I beHeve I am not unique in this, because

wish others to enjoy this uncommon experience, that I continue to

often said.
I

put in
I
I

my Httle word for you whenever,

incautiously said

will never

No

matter

to the

"the

wherever,

can.

My dear Cendrars,

know you."

know you not as I do other men, of that I am certain.

how thoroughly you reveal yourself I shall never get

bottom of you.

vanity which prompts

a Buddha.

better

You

doubt that anyone ever

will,

and

it is

not

me to put it this way. You are as inscrutable as

inspire,

you

reveal,

but you never give yourself

wholly away. Not that you withhold yourself

No, encountering

you, whether in person or through the written word, you leave the

63

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

impression of having given

of the few
that

is

forbids scrutiny.

It is

It is

not your

as

less

You

us.

No

heightened our awareness, so deepened our love for

awaken

whom

these

sensitivity,

so

men and women,

and one things of life which

you inside out. When I read you or

am always aware of your inexhaustible awareness you

in us the desire to turn

you

are not just sitting in a chair in a

us

all

own unending paragraphs could catalogue, that you

only one of your

talk to

give

doubt there are

clutching, for

remarks are meaningless. But you have so refined our

for books, for nature, for a thousand

one

very core of you

fault that the

grasping,

are

well as in person, give

law of your being.

the

less inquisitive, less

you

to give. Indeed,

" extra measure " which means everything to

that can be given.

men

there

all

men I know who, in their books

what

is

on your mind or

in

room

in a city in a country, telling

your mind, you make the chair

talk

and the room vibrate with the tumult of the dty whose Hfe is sustained

by

whole nation whose

the invisible outer throng of a

become your
you

talk

whose

history,

or write

life is

your

life

the whole of creation

have

lost identity

web which

and which spreads in

ceaselessly spins

is

history has

theirs,

and

as

elements, images, facts, creations enter

all these

into your thoughts and feelings, forming a

you

and yours

us,

your

involved, and we, you, them,

and found new meaning, new

life

the spider in

listeners, until
it,

everything,
.

Before proceeding further, there are two books on Cendrars which

would like to recommend to all who are interested in knowing

more about the man. Both are entitled Blaise Cendrars. One is by
Jacques-Henry Lev&que (Editions de la Nouvelle Critique, Paris,
I

1947), the other

by Louis

on

1948), finished

graphies, excerpts

Parrot (Editions Pierre Seghers, Paris,

the author's deathbed.

Both contain

from Cendrars* works, and

biblio-

number of photo-

life. Those who do not read

may glean a surprising knowledge of this enigmatic individual

graphs taken at various periods of his

French

from the photographs

alone.

(It is

amazing what

spice

and vitaHty

French publishers lend their publications through the insertion of old

photographs.

Seghers has been particularly enterprising in this

respect. In^his series

of Httle square books,

called Poetes d*Aujourd*hui*

he has given us a veritable gallery of contemporary and near contemporary figures.)

* Distributed in the United

64

States

by

New

Directions.

BLAISE CENDRARS
Ycs one can glean a lot about Cendrars just

He

physiognomy.

from studying

has probably been photographed

contemporary writer. In addition, sketches and

been made by any number of celebrated
Apollinaire, L6ger. Flip the pages

^Lev^que's and Parrot's

take a

artists,

his

more than any

portraits

of him have

including ModigUani,

of the two books I just mentioned

at this " gueule " which

good look

Cendrars has presented to the world in a thousand different moods.

Some
is

make you weep

will

some

Legion when he was a corporal. His

is

There

are almost hallucinating.

one photo of him taken in uniform during the days of the Foreign

burning

hand so

his fingers, protrudes

left

hand, holding a butt which

from beneath

expressive, so very eloquent, that if

story of his missing arm, this will convey

this

powerful and

name

books, signed his

himself,

sensitive left

hand

unerringly.

it

that he has written

to innumerable letters

washed himself^ guided

the most dangerous terrains

it

and post

It is

is

the

with

most of his

cards,

shaved

speedy Alfa-Romeo through

his

it is

the cape

you do not know

with

this left

hand

that

he has

way through jungles, punched his way through brawls,

defended himself, shot at men and beasts, clapped his copains on the
back, greeted with a warm clasp a long lost dend and caressed the

hacked

his

women

and animals he has loved. There

called

La Roue^ the eternal cigarette glued to his lips,

the film

a tooth missing,

huge checkered cap with an enormous peak hanging over one

The

expression

opposite page

on

is

apart, his left

m^ot

his

ux

is

something out of Dostoievsky.

a photo taken

working on VOr

another photo of him

is

when he was working with Abel Gance on

taken in 192 1

by Raymonc

{StUter*s Gold).

his eye, a sort

.

taken with

legs spread

hand sHding into the pocket of his baggy pantaloons,

to his

always. In this photo he looks like a healthy

lips, as

of ftank, good-natured

is

a taunting gleam in

defiance.

and you?" That's what it conveys,

Lev^que

at

*'

Fuck you. Jack,

his look.

Another,

Tremblay-sur-Maulne, 1926, captures him

square in the prime of life. Here he seems to be at his peak physically

he emanates health, joy,

has been reprinted

by

vitality.

In 1928

the thousands.

American period, looking

fit,

we

It is

its

soft

have the photo which

Cendrars of the South

sleek almost, well garbed, his

crowned by a handsome fedora with

when he was

Here he stands with

cocky young peasant of Slavic origin. There

I'm fine

in 1924,

ear.

On die

brim upturned.

conk

He

has

65

-.

'Vx


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
a

burning, faraway look in the cy, as if he had just

the Antarctic.

(I

beUeve

it

Dan

or had just finished,

was

come back from

was writing,

in this period that he

Yackt the

half of which [Le Plan de

first

r Aiguille] has only recendy been issued in translation by an English

But

publisher.*)

Legionnaire

in 1944 that

it is

we

catch a

photo by Chardon, Cavaillon.

gUmpse of

vieux

le

Here he reminds one

of Victor MacLaglan in the tide role of The

Informer.

This

the

is

me one of his major books. Here

man composed of many rich layers

period of V Homme Foudroye, for

he

the

is

fiilly

developed earth

bum, panhandler, mixer,

roustabout, tramp,
sailor,

soldier,

tough guy, the

who

bitter experiences

Un homme,

ripened.

man of

bruiser,

adventurer,

a thousand-and-one hard,

never went under but ripened, ripened,

quoi

There are two photos taken in 1946,

Aix-en-Provence, which yield us tender, moving images of him.

at

One,

which he

in

leans against a fence,

the urchins of the neighbourhood

of hand

tricks.

The

other catches

shows him surrounded by

them a few sleight

him walking through a shadowed
:

he

is

teaching

old street which curves endearingly. His look

triste.

It is

the Midi.

a beautifiil photograph, redolent

One

walks with him in

rein. I

could go on forever about the

of the man. His

Human

what.

is

mug

one can never

Hke Chinese

**

meditative, if not

mood, hushed by

which envelop him ...

unseizable thoughts

draw

his pensive

is

of the atmosphere of

physiognomic

forget.

the

force myself to

It's

**

aspects

human,

that's

Egyptian, Cretan, Etruscan

faces, like

ones.

Many

are the things

which have been

books are cinematic in

that his

said against this writer

style, that

he exaggerates and deforms \ outrance, that he

that

he lacks

all

sense

of form,

that

he

that his narratives are too incredible,

altogether there
let

us

critic,

is,

is

too

is

a grain

moment, we accepted them

the realist or else

and so on ad infinitum. Taken

They

reflect the

at face value.

views of the paid

But supposing,

of the dnema

Antarctic

Fugue

we

not Uving

h not this period of history more fantastic,

simulacrum of it which we see unrolled

incredible," than the

Title

for a

Will they hold water

Take his cinematic technique, for example. Well, are

66

prolix and verbose,

much

the academician, the frustrated novelist.

more "

to be sure, a grain of truth in these accusations, but

remember(w?y

in the age

they are sensational, that

Pushkin

Press,

London, 1948.

"

BLAISE CENDRARS
on

the silver screen

Gilles

As

have we forgotten

for his sensationalism

dc Rais, the Marquis de Sade, the Memoirs of Casanova

what of Pindar

for hyperbole,

As

for prolixity

about Jules Romains or Marcel Proust

As

and verbosity, what

As for exaggeration and

deformation, what of Rabelais, Swift, Celine, to mention an anomalous trinity

As

of form,

for lack

always kicking up

its

that perennial jackass

heels in the pages

heard cultured Europeans rant about the " vegetal

which

temples, the fa9ades of

Tibetan
control

scrolls
i

arc studded

*'

with a

aspect
riot

is

not

of Hindu

of human,

Have I not seen them twisting their Hps

when examining the amazing efflorescences embodied in

animal and other forms

in distaste

which

of Hterary reviews, have

No

taste,

De

C'est ca.

la

eh

No

sense

of proportion

mesure avant tout

No

These cultured

nobodies forget that their beloved exemplars, the Greeks, worked

with Cyclopean blocks, created monstrosities

harmony,

grace,

form and

spirit

as

well as apotheoses of

they forget perhaps that the

Cycladic sculpture of Greece surpassed in abstraction and simplification anything

which Brancusi or

his followers ever attempted.

The

very mythology of these worshippers of beauty, whose motto was

" Nothing to the extreme," is a revelation of the ** monstrous
aspect

of their being.

Oui, Cendrars
swell

is

full

of excrescences. There are passages which

up out of the body of his

parentheses,

detours,

asides,

Hke rank tumors.

text

which

substance of books yet to come. There

exfoHation, and there

also a

is

There are

the embryonic pith and

are
is

a grand efflorescence and

grand wastage of material in

his

books. Cendrars neither cribs and cabins, nor does he drain himself
completely.
it is

When

the

moment comes

expedient or efficacious to be

like a dagger.

To me

his

brief,

books

which some

We who
are

we

which

We who

elemental outbursts, are

When

brief and to the point

of fixed

habits, or

(A sign of real emancipation

are

!)

hke une mer houleusc and

readers, apparently, are unable to

reveals his oceanic spirit.

ness, his

is

reflect his lack

better yet, his ability to break a habit.

In those swollen paragraphs,

to let go, he lets go.

he

cope with, Cendrars

vaunt dear Shakespeare's mad-

we

to fear these cosmic gusts

swallowed the Pantagruel and Gargantua, via Urquhart,

to be daunted

by

catalogues of names, places, dates, events

We who produced the oddest writer in any tongueLewis Carroll

67

THE BOOKS
are

we

MY

IN

LIFE

away from

to ahy

from the ridiculous, the

the play of words,

grotesque, the unspeakable or the " utterly impossible

man

when he

to hold his breath as Cendrars does

one of his triple-page paragraphs without

sea diver.

What
of the

whale.

remarkable

is

whale of a man,

is

stop.

man

rhythmlet

Here, in staccato

before he was a writer he was a musician

might

also

style.

(It

fast as

Chinese, with

be

deep-

^he

poems and

us not forget that

deploys a telegraphic

One

telesthetic/')

whose written

my way

curious affinity, to

"

called

takes a

given us some

also

shortest sentences ever written, particularly in his

prose poems.

It

about to unleash

is

precisely.

same man has

that this

*'

can read

it

as

characters his vocables have a

of thinking.

This particular tech-

nique of Cendrars* creates a kind of exorcisma deliverance from

the

heavy weight of prose, from the impedimenta of grammar and

from

syntax,

the illusory intelligibility of the merely communicative

we

In VEubage, for example,

in speech.

of thought and utterance.

It

is

discover a sibylline quality

one of

extreme. Also a departure and an end.

why we

to classify, though

know. Sometimes
is

definitely

much

not

But what

that.

always being urged to take

Edmund Burke

to say

school, I

it

don't

dare say, that any of us brats

clear that the

is

don't

that a writer has

we were

remember,

men like Macaulay,

know.

Coleridge,

Why they didn't

No

professor ever

would turn out

one day. They were failures themselves, hence

made

difficult

him

classify

even de Maupassant.
I

indeed

is

a writer's writer," though he

mean

models

as

say Shakespeare, Dante, Milton,

believed,

**

from Cendrars. In

to learn

Ruskin, or

should want to

think of him as

An

his curious books.

Cendrars

to be writers

Cendrars has

teachers.

only teacher, the only model,

is

Hfe itself

What a writer learns from Cendrars is to follow his nose, to obey Ufe's
commands, to worship no other god but life. Some interpreters will
have

it

that Cendrars

Cendrars would limit

its

aspects, all

what
life.

it

thus.

He means

ramifications,

its

not. If he

What

means " the dangerous

is

all its

an adventurer, he

interests

him

is

is

life

life."

don't believe

pure and simple, in

all

bypaths, temptations, hazards,

an adventurer in

every phase

of life. The

all

realms of

subjects

he has

touched on, the themes he has pursued, are encyclopaedic. Another

sign

of" emancipation,"

manifestations.

68

It is

this all-inclusive

often

absorption in Hfr's myriad

when he seems most

"

realistic,"

for

BLAISE CENDRARS
example, that he tends to pull

meagre

is

He

soul.

Cendrars* vision

blinders.

is

had an extra eye buried in

cosmic

it is

may

be

step ahead
is

of him. Besides,

one with

no

secretary, that

years.

now

is

he writes with

An

hfe.

Lettres, Paris,

1949, informs us that Cendrars has projected a dozen or

few

the

all

never complete his

sure, will

knows no completion, and Cendrars

article by Pierre de Latil in La Gazette des

gram, considering that Cendrars

realist

almost as if he

crown, a skylight open to

life

to be written within the next

The

his organ.

perpetually open

work, because Hfe will always be a

life's

on

of him, Hke a horse with

in front

is

his

Such a man, you

rays.

the stops

all

what

sees

August

6,

more books

an astounding pro-

It is

in his sixties, that he has

his left

hand, that he

is

restless

more of the world,

writing and looks upon his work as forced

underneath, always itching to sally forth and sec

that he actually detests

He works on four or five books at a time. He will finish them

am certain. I only pray that I Uve to read the trilogy of les

labor.

**

all, I

souvenirs humains
consist

of

**

de

lettres,

Homtnes

Particularly the last-named

obscurs.

ma

called Archives de

Hommes

which

tour d'ivoire,

d'affaires

and Vie

will

des homnies

He

have long pondered over Cendrars* confessed insomnia.

attributes it to his life in the trenches, if I

enough, no doubt, but

any
tion

rate,

what

between

his fecundity
is

are able to

leaders,

For the ordinary

his sleeplessness.

Exceptional individualsholy

men of affairs,

do with very

Httle sleep.

other means of replenishing their

At

it.

that there seems to be a connec-

the restorative.

men, gurus, inventors,

and

is

True

rightly.

surmise there are deeper reasons for

wish to point out

individual sleep

insane

remember

dynamic

or certain types of the

v^

They

apparently have

potential.

Some men,

merely by varying their pursuits, can go on working with almost

no

sleep.

Others, Hke the yogi and the guru, in becoming

more aware and

selves

from the

therefore

thrall

of sleep.

enjoy creation to the

that in switching

replenishes himself
at a loss to

more

fullest ?)

from

alive, virtually

(Why

sleep if the purpose

With

Cendrars,

active Hfe to writing,

man

of Ufe

and vice

burning the candle

of long-Uved antecedents.

He

to

at

he

versa,

Otherwise

am

both ends and

not consuming himself. Cendrars mentions somewhere that he

a line

is

have the feeling

A pure supposition on my part.

account for a

more and

emancipate them-

is

of

has certainly squandered his

69

^s^\

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

hereditary patrimony regally. But

Indeed, he seems to have entered

he shows no signs of cracking up.

upon

He

a period of second youth.

when he reaches the ripe age of seventy he will be

ready to embark on new adventures. It will not surprise me in the
least if he does
I can see him at ninety scaling the Himalayas or
is

confident that

first rocket to voyage to the moon.

come back to the relation between his writing and his
sleeplessness ... If one examines the dates given at the end of his
books, indicating the time he spent on them, one is struck by the
rapidity with which he executed them as well as by the speed with

embarking in the

But

to

which

good-sized books) they succeed one another.

(all

my

impHes one thing, to

mind, and that

one has to be possessed and obsessed.

obsesses Cendrars

He is

Life.

is

**

What

obsession."
is it

All this

To

write

and

that possesses

man in love with life

et c*est tout.

No matter if he denies this at times, no matter if he vilifies the times or

no matter if he compares

his

recent past with the present and finds the latter lacking,

no

excoriates his contemporaries in the arts,

own

matter if he deplores the trends, the tendencies, the philosophies and

men of our epoch, he is the one man of our time who

behavior of the

has proclaimed and trumpeted the fact that today

And

beautifiil.

it is

of contemporary
all

where,

life,

Hfe, past, present

and

Ufe of the ocean depths,

that

seized

upon him

right attitude towards

of the

as

greater zest

life

but

no one can

alHes himself

backward

lookers, idolaters, or else

who

are in the tradition,

With Cendrars you

It is

casually

as a

and

material.

In

this

He knows how
70

soothsayer

discreetly

No,

And
it

his prophetic

it is

and

is

others are

hopefiilness,

because he

one with

Not

that

he

it,

sets

remarks are made

they are buried often in a maze of unrelated

he often reminds
to

The

mere wraiths of

strike ore.

with

which he

such men, and only

able to predict the fiiture so unerringly.

himself up

as the

grandiose,

hail the fiiture

carry on.

understands the present so profoundly, accepts

is

life

the present, the eternal present,

who

that he

well

stars as

No one can steep himself in the splendors

such men,

bonimenteurs.

of the

a shining example of the right principle, the

life.

it is

conning tower, he surveys

in miniscule as well as the

and with which he

glorifies

as if firom a

future, the Ufe

more than Cendrars

past

profound and

is

just because he has anchored himself in the midst

take the pulse.-

me of
In

the

fact,

good

physician.

he knows

all

the


BLAISE CENDRARS

men

that they are sick, or

of certain

artists

he says of certain

that they are corrupt or

or of poUtidans in general that they arc crazy, or of miUtary

fekes,

men

When

Chinese physicians of old.

pulses, like the

he knows whereof he speaks.

that they are criminals,

magister in

him which

is

It is

the

speaking.

He has, however, another way of speaking which is more endearing

me. He can speak with tenderness. Lawrence, it will be remembered, originally thought of calling the book known as Lady
to

by

Chatterleys Lover

name

because

the

remember

mention Lawrence's

vividly Cendrars' allusion to

memorable

occasion of his

" Tenderness."

title

think a lot of Lawrence," he said questioningly. "

him on

"

the Villa Seurat.

visit to

do,"

the

You must
I

repHed.

We exchanged a few words and then I recall him asking me fair and
square if

did not believe Lawrence to be overrated.

metaphysical side of Lawrence,

that
I

was "

To

gathered, that

suspect," I should say.

was engrossed in

any

rate, that

my

(And

this particular aspect

it

was just

at this

of Lawrence

defense of Lawrence was

!)

weak and

was the

It

to his liking,

period that

am sure,

at

unsustained.

I was much more interested in hearing Cendrars*

man than in justifying my own. Often, later, in reading

be truthful,

view of the
Cendrars

this

word

" tenderness " crossed

my lips.

involuntarily, rouse

me from my

would then indulge

in endless speculation,

They

tenderness with Cendrars*.

Lawrence's weakness

kinds.

longed to
them.

know men better

It is

is

reverie.

now

are, I

Futile

in Apocalypse that he has

on the withering of the "

"
anguish in usfor Lawrence. They make us

he suffered in trying to be " a

detect

no

his narratives

he

deed, one with

fully

is

as

be, I

distinct

Lawrence

common with

the

most moving

They

instinct.

create

realize the tortures

man among men." With

hint of such deprivation or mutilation.

humanity Cendrars swims

of two

think,

some of

societal

it

comparing Lawrence's

he wanted to work in

would escape

It

though

man, Cendrars' men.

passages
real

was not

Cendrars

In the ocean of

bUthely as a porpoise or a dolphin. In

always together with men, one with them in

them

in thought. If he

and completely a man.

Never does he set himself up

He

is

a solitary, he

is

also the brother

is

as superior to his fellow

diought himself superior, often, often

think that

nevertheless

of

all

men.

man. Lawrence
is

undeniable

and very often he was anything but. Very often it is a lesser

man who
71

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

" instructs " him. Or shames him. Lawrence had too great a love
**
for
humanity " to understand or get along with his fellow man.
It is

when we come

sense the

like, all

figures.

With

we

the exception of the

Rod and

given in Sons and Lovers, Kangaroo, Aaron's

self portraits,

such

to their respective fictional characters that

between these two

rift

Lawrence's characters are mouthpieces for his philosophy

or the philosophy he wishes to depose. They arc ideational creatures,

moved about

like chess pieces.

They have blood

but it is the blood which Lawrence has

characters issue

They

vortex.

from

life

and

their activity stems

of course, acquaint us with

too,

in

them

pumped into them.

his

from

all right,

Cendrars*

moving

life's

philosophy of life,

but obhquely, in the eUiptic manner of art.

The

tenderness

of Cendran exudes from

neither does

spare his characters

harshest words, let

me

the poets and artists

these diatribes,

faults

you

of

find

he

is

^which crowd

He

does not

them. His

his

him

judgment upon

passing

that in laying bare the weaknesses or

unmasking, or endeavoring to unmask,

is

their essential heroic nature.

human

pores.

considers spurious. Aside firom

will rarely find

his subjects

all

revile or castigate

say parenthetically, are usually reserved for

whose work he

What you do

others.

he

All the diverse figures

books are

^human,

all

too

glorified in their basic, intrinsic

They may or may not have been heroic in the face of death
may or may not have been heroic before the tribunal ofjustice
but they are heroic in the common struggle to assert and uphold
their own primal being. I mentioned a while ago the book by Al
being.

they

Jennings which Cendrars so ably translated.

book

is

indicative

of

my

point.

The very

with an exaggerated sense ofjustice and honor

(but eventually pardoned

West who welk over

choice of this

This mite of a man,

who is

by Theodore Roosevelt),

'*

this

up

outlaw
'*

for life

this terror

of

man
Cendrars would choose to tell the world about, just the sort of man he
would uphold as being filled vdth the dignity of life. Ah, how I
should like to have been there when Cendrars eventually caught up
the

vvdth tenderness,

is

just the sort

of

with him, in Hollywood of all places

Cendrars has written of this
**
brief encounter " and I heard of it myself from Al Jennings* own
!

Hps

when

there in

met him by chance

few

years ago

in a

bookshop

Hollywood.

In the books written since the Occupation, Cendrars has

72

much

to

BLAISB CENDRARS

War the First War, naturally, not only because

inhuman but because the future course of his life,

say about the

was

it

less

might

exodus

incredible

of

was decided by

say,

He

it.

has also written about

Second War, particularly about the

the

fall

Haunting

it.

of

Le

(See the section of his book,

and the

Paris

reminiscent

pages,

Equalled in war literature only by

Revelation.

Flight to Arras.

which

preceding

St.

Exup6ry*s

Lotissement du Ciel,

appeared in the revue, Le Cheval de Troie, entitled:

first

Un Nouveau

Patron pour V Aviation.)*

In

these recent

all

books

Cendrars reveals himself more and more intimately. So penetrative,

so naked,

gUmpses he permits us

are these

So

recoils.

sure, swift

watching a safecracker

at

that

one

instinctively

and deft are these revelations that

work. In these

whole swarm of intimates whose hves dovetail with

Exposed through the

lurid searchHght

**

of a

Nothing

Uke

own.

his

of his Cyclopean eye they arc

caught in the flux and surveyed fi:om every angle.

" completion

it is

flashes stand revealed the

Here there

is

omitted or altered for the sake

of the narrative. With these books the " narrative " is stepped up,
sort.

is

broadened out, the supports and buttresses battered away, in order

that the

book may become

and remain forever

the

identical

part

of

with

Hfe.

life,

swim with

life's

Here one comes to

currents,

grips

with

men Cendrars truly loves, the men he fought beside in the trenches

and whom he saw wiped out hke rats, the Gypsies of the Zone

whom

he consorted with in the good old days, the ranchers and other

South American scene, the porters, concierges,

tradesmen, truck drivers, and " people of no account " (as we say),
figures firom the

and

it

with the utmost sympathy and understanding that he

is

What a gallery Infinitely more cxdting, in

every sense of the word, than Balzac's gallery of " types." This
treats these latter.

is

the real

satirical

Jules

Human Comedy. No

puppet show, i

Romains. Here

la

sociological studies, k

Thackeray.

in these latter books,

No

Zola.

No

pan-humanity, ^

la

though minus the aim and

purpose of the great Russian, but perhaps with another aim which

we

will understand better later, at

violence,

any rate, with equal amplitude,

humor, tenderness and rehgious ^yes, reHgious fervor,

Cendrars gives us the French equivalent of Dostoievsky's outpourings in such

works

as

* Editions DenoSl,

The Idiot, The Possessed, The

Paris,

Brothers Karamaxov. \

1949.

73

\^

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

production which could only be realized, consummated, in die

middle years of life.

ripe

now

Everything

forthcoming has been digested a thousand

Again and again Cendrars has pushed back

times.

what deep well

the

multiform story of

molten mass of experience raw and

digested and predigested,
a torpid

wings,

cargo destined for eventual delivery

and the exact

From

June,

awesomely

writing again

is

rudimentary
time

at the exact

to be set off.

the 21st of August, 1943, Cendrars remained

194.0, to
silent.

his entrails like

its

demanded a touch of dynamite

place,

into

This heavy,

subde and crude,

refined,

which had been lodging in

and amorphous dinosaur idly flapping

this

^where

his life.

II

s'est

tu.

Chut

a visit fi^om his friend

Motus

Edouard

oVHomme Foudroyi. En
memory of a certain night in 1915, at the front
in the opening pages

What

him

starts

Peisson, as he relates

passant he evokes the

**

la plus terrible

que

v&ue." There were other occasions, one suspects, before the

critical visit of his friend Peisson, which might have served to

j'ai

detonate the charge.

But perhaps on these occasions

out too quickly or was

world

events.

But

damp

drop these

let us

the fuse

burned

or smothered under by the weight of

Let us

useless speculations.

dive into Section 17 of Uiw Nouveau Patron Pour V Aviation

This brief section begins with the recollection of a sentence of

R^my
where
a

few

de Gourmont's

women
lines

"

And

it

shows great progress

now chew the

from Cendrars* own mouth

prayed before, cows

comes

this

that,

..."

cud

In

Beginning on May loth, Surrealism descended upon

not the works of absurd poets who pretend to be
such and who, at most, arc but sou-realistes since they
preach the subconscious, but the work of Christ, the oiily
poet of the sur-real
If ever I had faith, it was on that day that grace should
have touched me
earth

Follow two paragraphs dealing in turbulent, compressed fury

with the ever execrable condition of war. Like Goya, he repeats
**fai vu**

The second paragraph ends

thus

The sun had stopped. The weather forecast announced

an ami-cyclone lasting forty days. It couldn't be
For
!

74

BLAISE CBNDRARS
which

everything

reason

would not

wrong

went

gear-wheels

down

machinery everywhere broke

lock,

the dead-point of everything.

The next

five lines vdll ever

No, on May

remain in

my mempry

humanity was far from adequate

Above, the sky was like a backside
with gleaming buttocks and the sun an inflamed anus.
What else but shit could ever have issued from it ?
And modem man screamed with fear .
loth,

Lord

to the event.

man of August

This

directions at once,

the 21st, 1943,

who

is

exploding in

all

had of course already delivered himself of a wad

of books, not

least

day, being the

tea.

among them, we

probably discover one

shall

volumes of Notre Pain Quotidien which he com-

posed intermittently over a period of ten years in a chateau outside

Paris, to

which manuscripts he never signed

his

name, confiding the

chests containing this material to various safety vaults in different

parts

of South America and then throwing the keys^away.

VAnonymey* he

voudrais rester

In the books

begun

at

Aix-en-Provence are voluminous notes,

placed at the ends of the various sections.

Bourlinguer (the section

("Je

says.)

on Genoa), which

tribute to the poet so dear to

French

will quote just one,

constitutes

fiom

an everlasting

men of letters

Dear Gerard de Nerval, man of the

crowd, night-

walker, slang-ist, impenitent dreamer, neurasthenic lover

of the

and the vast necropoli of

of Solomon's Temple, translator of
Faust, personal secretary to the Queen of Sheba, Druid of
the ist and 2nd class, sentimental vagabond of the fle-deFrance, last of the Valois, child of Paris, lips of gold, you
hung younelf in the mouth of a sewer after shooting your
poems up to the sky and now your shade swings ever
before them, ever larger and larger, between NotreDame and Saint-Merry, and your fiery Chimearas range
this square of the heavens like six dishevelled and terrifying
comets. By your appeal to the New Spirit you for ever
disturbed our feeling today
and nowadays men could
not go on living wimout this anxiety
Capital's small theatres

the East

architect

The Eagle has

me ... (Horus,
*

'

already passed
str.

Ill,

v.

the

New

Spirit calls

9)

75

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

On

page 244, in the same body of notes, Cendrars states the

" The other day I was sixty and it is only today, as I reach

following
the

end of the present

writer
thirty

are

begin to believe in

still

who

it,

my vocation of

you lads of twenty-five,

are constandy belly-aching because

Be

yet succeeded in establishing a reputation.

your

alive, still living

enjoying the bitter

I

that

and forty years of age

you have not

you

tale,

Put that in your pipe and smoke

/*

still

of isolation and neglect

fiiiits

would have Hked

glad that

garnering experience,

life, still

on many

to dwell

singular passages in these

recent books replete with the most astounding facts, incidents,

of

Hterary and historic events, scientific and occult allusions, curiosa

of

hterature, bizarre types

humorous

men and women,

feasts,

drunken bouts,

escapades, tender idylls, anecdotes concerning remote

places, times, legends, extraordinary colloquies

individuals,

reminiscences

with extraordinary

of golden days, burlesques,

fantasies,

myths, inventions, introspections and eviscerations ...

have liked to speak

at

would

length of that singular author and even

more

man, Gustave Le Rouge, the author of 312 books which

singular

the reader has most likely never heard of, the variety, nature, style

and contents of which Cendrars dwells on con amore ;

have given the reader some

Httle flavor

from VHomnte Foudroyi, which

Gypsy

would

is

book

in peace

which he had sHpped

the page
line or

finish a

would like

direct firom the hps

to

Vendetta,

of Sawo the

have taken the reader to La Comue, chez

like to

Paquita, or to that wonderful hideout in the South

hoping to

of the closing section.

two and never looks

at

it

of France where,

and tranquiHty, Cendrars abandons

into the typewriter after writing a

again but gives himself up to pleasure,

and drink ; I would like to have given the reader at

an inkling of that hair-raising story of the " homuncuU " which

idleness, reverie
least

Cendrars recounts at length in Bourlinguer (the section called

" G^es "), but if I were to dip into these extravaganzas I should

never be able to extricate myself

I shall

one

jump

called

Lausanne.
sincere,

ment

La

instead to the last

received

It is illustrated

from Cendrars,

by La Guilde du

the

Livre,

with 130 photographs by Robert Doisneau,

moving, unvarnished documents which eloquently supple-

the text.

Dc nouveau unc

collaborateurs, les vrais

76

book

Banlieue de Paris, published

The

text

belle collaboration.
is

fairly short

(Vive

les

fifty large pages.

BLAISE CBNDR
But haunting pages, written sur

were nothing more noteworthy

of a night

in these pages than Cendrars' description

on

the eve of an aborted revolution this short text

But

preserving.

(From the 15th of July to

le vif.

the 31st of August, 1949.) If there

A R

there are other passages equally

at Saint-Denis

would be worth

sombre and arresting,

or nostalgic, poignant, saturated with atmosphere, saturated with the

pullulating effervescence

of the sordid suburbs. Mention has often

been made of Cendrars* rich vocabulary, of the poetic quaUty of his

of

prose,

his abiHty to incorporate in his rhapsodic passages the

trous jargon

document, which

example of

from

a sort of retrospective eltgy,

is

memory he moves

North, and West, and,

resuscitates the

frustration,

In

his virtuosity.

East, South,

wand,

mon-

and terminology of science, industry, invention. This

is

an excellent

on the suburbs

armed with

as if

drama of hope, longing,

in

magic

failure, ennui, despair,

misery and resentment which devours the denizens of this

one compact paragraph, the second in the section called

" Nord," Cendrars gives a graphic, physical summary of all that
vast belt. In

makes up the hideous suburban

ravages

which follow

terrain.

It is

a bird's-eye

wake of industry.

in the

view of the

A Httle later he gives

of the interior of one of England's war plants,

" a shadow factory," which is in utter contrast to the foregoing. It is a
us a detailed description

masterful piece of reportage in which the cannon plays the role of ved-

But

ette.

where he
**

in paying his tribute to the factory, Cendrars

stands.

Mieux vaut

It is

etre

the one kind of work he has

un vagabond,"

is

makes

it

clear

no stomach

for.

dictum. In a few swift lines

his

he volplanes over the eternal bloody war business and, with a cry of

shame

for the

figures

of the

Hiroshima " experiment," he launches the staggering

last

war's havoc tabulated

and the benefit of those

death.

They belong,

who

And

throughout, Cendrars asks

us

a Swiss review for the use

coming

carnival

of

these figures, just as the beautifiil arsenals belong

and the hideous banHeue.

they

by

are preparing the

Whence do they come

finally, for

"
?

he has had them in mind

What of the children

Where are they going "
?

Who

are

Referring

back to the photos of Robert Doisneau, he evokes the figures of

David and GoUath

have in store for

No

to

let us

know what

indeed the Httle ones

may

us.

mere document,

this

book.

It is

something

should Hke to

77

THE BOOKS
own

LIFE
carry with

in a breast-pocket edition, to

wander
It

MY

IN

forth again.

has been

me

should

Something to take one's bearings by

ever

my lot to prowl the streets, by night as well as day, of

of woe and misery, not only here in my

these God-forsaken precincts

own country but in Europe too.

worst.

In their

of desolation they are

spirit

Those which ring the proudest

all alike.

of the earth are the

cities

my past I can

They stink like chancres. When I look back on

scarcely see anything else, smell anything else but these festering

empty

lots,

these filthy, shrouded streets, these rubbish heaps

jerries indiscriminately

lom,
and

mixed with the garbage and

broken gadgets, vases

utterly senseless household objects, toys,

pisspots

creatures

of high

abandoned by the poverty-stricken, hopeless,

who make up the population of these districts.

fettle I

my way

have threaded

by cursing and gnashing

by

my

Ofin
teeth,

recovered

by
I

making music of it. (And

What

poem

fiitile

who would

rages,

eventually

have been obsessed for weeks

and months on end by such experiences. But

in

helpless

moments

my sober senses only

flying into wild,

picturing myself a benevolent dictator

" restore order, peace and justice."

In

amidst the bric-a-brac and

shambles of these quarters and thought to myself

What a documentary film

of

refuse, the for-

have never succeeded

to think that Erik Satie,

whose domicile

Robert Doisneau gives us in one of the photos, to think that this man
**
also
made music " in that crazy building is something which makes

my scalp itch.) No,

insensate material.

have

still

have never succeeded in making music of this

tried a

assimilate, to

pound the mortar

has succeeded,

and that

Blaise Cendrars

You

is

why

with' a chemist's

take

is

lack that abiHty to recede, to

skill.

But Cendrars

my hat off to him.

are a musician. Salute

have need of the poets of night and desolation

We

my spirit

number of times, but

too young, too filled with repulsion.

as

Salut, cher

And glory be

well as the other

We
sort.

have need of comforting words and you give them as well

When I say " we " I mean all of us. Ours is a

as vitrioHc diatribes.
thirst

unquenchable for an eye such

as yours,

an eye which condemns

without passing judgment, an eye which wounds by

and

heals at the

its naked glance

same time. Especially in America do " we ** need

your historic touch, your velvety backward sweep of the plume. Yes,

we need it perhaps more than anything you have to offer us.

has passed over our scarred, terrains vagues at a gallop.

78

It

History

has

left

us

BLAISE CENDRARS
a

a few absurd monuments

and a veritable chaos of
The one race which inhabited these shores and which
not mar the work of God was the redskins. Today they occupy

few names,

bric-a-brac.

did

sort

**

For their

the wastelands.

of concentration camp.

But

camiot end on

of those

has

this

dolorous note, which

window is

the kind

the earth, as

only the backfire

is

The view from

tenaciously.

mean. Wherever

of shabby buildings, there dwell the

cluster

organized a pious

always a rear view to be had from these crazy edifices

is

which our minds inhabit so

back

we have

no barbed wires, no instruments of

rumblings which begin anew whenever the past crops

secret

up. There

It

We simply leave them there to die out

no armed guards.

torture,

protection "

wc

say, for

without them

without them that crust which

is

**

in the

of

Uttle people, the salt

we would

thrown

Satie's

zone " there is a

be

left

to starve,

and which

to the dogs

we

pounce on Uke wolves would have only the savor of death and re-

Through

venge.

hangs

can see

windows from which

those oblong

my pallet in the comer where I

the bedding

have flopped for the

night, to be rescued again in miraculous fashion the next

always by a " nobody," which means,

when we

sundown,

get to understand

human speech, by an angel in disguise. What matter if with the coflfee

one swallows a mislaid emmenagogue What matter if a stray roach
?

clings to one's tattered garments

window one

can look

down

Looking

from the

at Hfe

at one's past as into a

still

rear

mirror in

which the days of desperation merge with the days of joy, the days
of peace, and the days of deepest friendship.
this

way, think

There

all

this

" Sweet

is

me

clear as

H. Rider Haggard

my hfe fall into

**

for

Cendrars,
all

that

when

you must

at times

as

young man,

in the

of

beautiful,

" The naked

digested,

and vomited

As

a child

you

you tramped across Europe,

some forgotten hotel in Pekiu ;

a mere lad

Russia, Asia, to stoke the furnace in

as a

the strains
it is

sec

have sensed a kind of envy

you have Hved through,

tomb

to a chess

of evil."

forth transformed, transmogrified, transubstantiated.

played by Virgil's

I feel

a pattern.

The Cracow Poem "

it tells

do

French backyard.

says in his autobiography

always beautiful, even

My dear
in

It is all as

Especially

my

The music it gives oflf is as simple as were

AUce Ben Bolt " to my childish ears. More,

for as Sir

truth

look into

the meaningless pieces of

no waste motion.
fiend.

way, when

bloody days of the Legion, you elected to

79

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB

remain a corporal, no more

your

in

New

own

York, Boston,

you have

far,

war victim you begged

as a

dear Paris, and a litde later

New

you were on

for alms

bum

in

You

have roamed

you have burned

the candle at

Orleans, Frisco

idled the days away,

the

both ends, you have made &iends and enemies, you have dared to
write the truth,

you have known how

every path to the end, and you are

castles in the

Hue

both in the

flesh

absurd of

putting in

to think that

my Htde word

for

am

bow in reverence.

not your peer.

disciple,

your

stiU

building

and will continue to

spiritual

How fooHsh,

might be of help to you, that by

You

life as

there, as I said before, I

have no need of my help or

you do you

automatically aid

life is lived.

prefer to remain

your devotee, your loving

brother in der Ewigkeit.

You always close your greetings with " ma main amie." I

warm left hand you proffer and I wring it with joy,

that

gratitude,

80

to

live

Once again I doff my hat

I have not the right to salute you because

of us, everywhere where

to you.

are living

you here and

cause.

of anyone's. Just Uving your

you have pursued

your prime,

and in the roster of the illustrious ones.

me

would be advancing your

us, all

in

breaking plans, habits, resolutions, because

stiU

your primary aim, and you

is

how

air,

to be silent,

still

and with an everlasting benediction on

my

Hps.

grasp

with

IV
RIDER HAGGARD
Since mentioning Rider Haggard's name, his book, She, has fallen

my

into

hands.

glance at the
I feel

book

impeUed

now

have

this

To

second reading.

to Chapter 11. "

recollection

of reading

am now

begin with,

my

it,

first

remember.

as I can, the extra-

experiencing as a result of

must confess

that

not until

The Plain of K6r," did I have the faintest

a word of this startling book before. I was

certain, nevertheless, that the

creature called

and restrained

to relate, as quietly

ordinary reactions which

came

read about two-thirds of

since the year 1905 or 1906, as best I

moment I encountered that mysterious

my memory would come ahve. It

Ayesha (She)

has fallen out just as

I anticipated.

As with The Lion of the North,

which first

referred to earUer, so in She I rediscover the emotions

overcame
{The

me upon coming

femme fatale

this lost soul

who

again,

occupies

to the

Sim

!)

position

Helen was never

at

least,

real to

author has spun a

la htt^rature.

and

incarnate.

race

we

Ayesha
is

say

me. Ayesha is more than

of them cursed

it

with

real.

proportions that

is

Helen

is

it

She

is

superthe

almost deserves

legendary, mythical

of the dark mothers, of which mysterious

get hints and echoes in

Germanic

But before

Hterature.

this narrative,

which

dates firom

the next to the last decade of the Nineteenth Century, let

certain revelations concerning

which

is

of the eternal elements, both discamate

babble on about the wonders of

of

Troy

certitude,

maHgned word. About her personage

web of such

She

comparable

mind

In this starry firmament Helen of

the appellation " cosmogonic."

de

my

lovers, all

Indeed, and only today can

in every sense of that

fatale."

ageless beauty,*

beloved returns to earth

in

of immortal

in the galaxy

with a deathless beauty.

real,

name of this

refuses to die until her

but a pale moon.

with a " femme

face to face

Ayesha, the true

are connected with

my own

character

me

speak

and identity

it.

* Also the name of Mahomet's second and favorite wife.

81

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB

As

write this

have read,

as

book

down

keep jotting

memory.

they return to

complete possession of me. The reasons for

perceive.
identity

of certain books.

through certain authors

(without knowing

mere

the

who

it) lost

over and over again.

:

of books

titles

it I

has taken

have already begun to

The primary one is that I am rediscovering my own

which, unknown to me, had been smothered or stifled

in the pages

this

the

game which

It is

That

acted as

to say, in finding myself,

And

myself

For,

is

my

intermediaries,

what happens

me

to

of a forgotten

recollection

had

also

must have happened

this

every day

now

is

tide brings to life not

only the aura of the book's untouchable personaHty but the

knowledge and the

reality

of

to take

hold of me.

am coming

new and unexpected way.

that

my

former

selves.

need not add

something approaching awe, dread, consternation

that

journey to Tibet

have

less

and

less

need to make

for naught,

beginning

almost as if

were embarked on

have so frequently alluded to and which

crab-wise, as seems to be

Not

It is

is

to grips with myself in a wholly

my

as times goes

on and

myself go on,

destiny.

more and more profoundly, have

perceive

clung to childhood memories

not for naught have

attached

such importance to "the boys in the street," our Hfe together, our
gropings for truth, our struggle to understand the perverse order of
society in

we

which we found ourselves enmeshed and firom whose grip

vainly sought to free ourselves.

of human knowledge, two kinds of

Just as there are tv/o orders

wisdom, two

two everything, so
were two sources of

traditions,

to realize that there

boyhood we came

in

instruction

which we discovered ourselves and secredy strove

the other which

we

the one

to guard, and

learned about in school and which impressed

us as not only dull and

but diaboUcally

fiitile,

false

and perverted.

The one kind of instruction nourished us, the other undermined us.
And I mean this " literally and in every sense," to use Rimbaud's
expression.

Every genuine boy

is

a rebel and an anarch.

to develop according to his

society

own

would undergo such a

the adult revolutionary

instincts,

his

If

he were allowed

own

inclinations,

radical transformation as to

cower and

cringe.

make

His would probably

not be a comfortable or benevolent pattern of organization, but

82

RIDER HAGGARD
it

would

more
"

splendor and integrity.

reflect justice,

of

the vital pulse

augment

abet and

life,

terrifying to adults than such a prospect

bas I'histoire

"

night

which we devoured

could be

begin to see

one another on the

to

empty

or on a street comer under an arc

lot,

or at the edge of a cemetery, or in an icehouse of our

light,

q.t.,

hours of the day and

stealthily at all

and in the weirdest places sometimes these books which

discussed in the

dug

construction or a cave
gathering, for
bers

accelerate

The books which we recommended

the books

would

Do you

(Rimbaud's words.)

of them

the pregnancy

we

It

And what

life.

we

own

into a hillside, or in any secret place

always met

as a clan, as

blood brothers,

as

of

mem-

^The Order of Youth Defending the Traditions

of a secret order

of Youth

these

of our Spartan

books were part of our daily

and our

discipline

instruction, part

They were

spiritual training.

the heritage of anterior orders, inconspicuous groups like ourselves,

who from
our

elders,

We

golden age of youth.

some of them

were not aware then

looked back on

at least,

period of their Hves with envy and longing

that

and to prolong,

earUest times fought to keep aHve

possible, the

this

hallowed

we had no

suspicion

our glorious dynasty would be referred to

We

conflict."

did not

know

that

we were

as

" the period of

htde primitives, or

We

archaic heroes, saints, martyrs, gods or demigods.

and that was

we were

ment of our
adults.

affairs

authority as best

Our

respected,

revealed

we

For most of

of veneration, much

saying.

sufiicient.

we

it

idolatry.

and

entered into them.

it

was the only voice of authority

That

Hfe.

we

understood

dubious

their

goes without

this

we

truly

law was

we played, that is, by the way we played

we drew from the way the various players
We estabHshed genuine hierarchies we passed
;

to our various levels

various levels of being.

We

of understanding, our

were conscious of the peak

of the base of the pyramid.

We

opposed

at great odds,

inferences

judgment according

cipline.

nor mother were objects

We

the games

them and the

as

of

was the law of

by

that

did not want to be treated as embryonic

could

law, and

knew

We wanted a voice in the govern-

us, neither father

less

if

that

We

had

faith,

We created our own ordeals and tests

as

well

reverence and dis-

of power and

fitness.

abided by the decisions of our superiors, or our chief.

He
83

"

The books in my life

who

was a king

and he never
I

manifested the dignity and the power of his rank

beyond

ruled a day

time

his

speak of these &cts with some emotion because

that adults should ever forget them, as

experience a

find ourselves

primitive

among

merit

who

exist side

past behind us,

me

amazes

We

all

we suddenly

**
I mean now the true
primitives."
The study of anthropology has one great
Uve again as youths. The true student of

the

man.

early

when, having put the

thrill

it

sec they do.

it permits us to
"
primitive peoples has respect, deep respect, for these " ancestors

grow up.** He
man in the early stages of his development is in no wise
to man in the later stages
some have even found early
by

side

who do

with us but

**

not

finds that

inferior

man
**

man. ** Early ** and

" are here used according to the vulgar acceptation of the

to be superior, in

late

We

terms.

know

most

respects, to late

young or

about the origin of "

httle

much.

There

is

homo

decadent.

sapiens,**

a gap between the farthest reaches of history

the rehcs and evidences of prehistoric

such

as

the

hgence and

man
And we know
though we pretend

nothing, in truth, about the origin of early

or whether, indeed, he was

Cro-Magnon,

and

man, branches of which,

by the evidences of their intelThe wonders which we constantly

baffle us

aesthetic sensibiHty.

expect the archaeologist to imearth, the links in our very slender

own species,

thread of knowledge about our

descendingly as " imaginative

moment

latter for the

or "

esoteric

**

childhood"

writers.

refer to

con-

limit myself to these

**
sometimes termed " occult
"
accredited. They are for
second

since the others,

writers, are

is

undoubtedly fed from

still less

one

of those imaginative

many

streams.

writer of boys* books, content to

Perhaps only

upon

(sic).

Haggard

Rider

**

are supplied incessantly

whom we

and in the most amazing ways by those

when our

We

let his

think of

name

scientific explorers

writers

him now

who
as a

fade into obHvion.

and investigators stumble

the truths revealed through imagination will

we

recognize

the true stature of such a writer.

" What

is

his narrative.

imagination ?

And he

intangible truth, perhaps

It

84

was

**

asks

answers
it is

Rider Haggard in the midst of

" Perhaps it is a shadow of the

the soul*s thought

in the imagination that Blake

Hved

entirely.

It

was imagin-

RIDER HAGGARD
ation

which led a humble grocery boy (Schliemann),

Homer,

reading of

go

to

by

fired

his

in search of Troy, Tiryns and Mycenae.

And what of Jacob Boehme

the first white man
alive ? What an epic

What of

to enter

Caill^,

that intrepid

Frenchman,

Timbuctoo and come out

Curious, but just about the time that

I first

became acquainted

with the mysteries of Egypt, the dazzling history of Crete, the

bloody annals of the House of Atreus, just when

my

by

sonality, the

via such

Holy

Grail, resurrection

romancers "

**

am overwhelmed

contact with such themes as reincarnation, spUt per-

first

as

and immortality, and so on,

Herodotus, Tennyson, Scott, Sicnkiewicz,

Hcnty, Bulwer-Lytton, Marie Corelli, Robert Louis Stevenson

and

many

others,

others, all these so-called legends,

superstitious

beUefs

SchHemann,

Sir

Madame

myths and

were beginning to take substance in

fact.

Arthur Evans, Frazer, Frobenius, Annie Besant,

Blavatsky, Paul Radin,

a whole flock of courageous

pioneers had been busy unveiling the truth in one realm after
another,
defeat

all

and

interlocked,
paralysis

Century held
splendor

in

all

contributory in breaking the spell of

which the

doctrines

the past comes aHve again, but tangibly, substantially,

and with almost greater reahty than the

present.

When I stood amid the ruins of Knossos

my thoughts turn to school books, to my
the enchanting tales they told us
I

had read

as a child

saw the

thought buried in obHvion

street

of the Nineteenth

The new century opens with promise and

us.

thought of the

illustrations

stories

of those books

had

thought of our discussions in the

and the amazing speculations

my own

No.

and of Mycenae did

penal instructors and

private speculation about

we had

indulged

in.

recalled

these exciting, mysterious

all

themes connected with past and future. Looking out over the plain

of Argos from Mycenae,

the

of Tiryns

to

Uved over again

^it

and

how

vividly

Gazing upon the Cyclopean walls

recalled the tiny illustration

wonder books
ing me.

of the Argonauts.

tale

of the wall in one of

my

corresponded exactly with the reaHty confiront-

Never, in school, had a history professor even attempted

make Hving

for us these glorious epochs

child enters into naturally as soon as he

is

of the past which every

able to read.

With what

childhke faith does the hardy explorer pursue his grim task

We
85

THI BOOKS IN MY LIPI

The

true educators arc the

men who

plunge into the living

Icam nothing from the pedagogues.

adventurers and wanderers, the

plasm of history, legend, myth.

A moment ago I spoke of the world youth might create,

a chance.
is

how

have noticed repeatedly

own

the thought of educating a child according to their

As

notions.

write

I recall

momentous

and myself.

was

It

in the kitchen

my

of our home, and

upon some heated words of mine about

was pacing back and forth

the table and

Suddenly

heard her ask, almost frantically

you begin ? How ? " So deep in thought was
I

me

of her words came to

head down,

my

my eyes came to rest

How would I begin
And

bellowed.

bien en retard.

And

consciousness.

on a

"

Why

monologue

must have carried on for a

what

was saying but swept along by

What

disgust

it

it

fiill

began with

that the full import

that Httle

wood

and experience.

smell or hear,

to

**

Everything

knowing

of

my

experiences

how it came

is

about,

own

traction

And so

The

Whatever we touch,

and momentum.

docs the adult,

the lesson

are
It

There

on

see,

velvet.

works by
is

itself is a

no need
kind of

know he Hterally hungers and

if wc could but dissipate the hypnotic

child longs to

which subjugates him.

wisdom,

instinct,

so divinely connected,

from whatever point we begin, we

its

enchantment.

86

launched into

was the exasperation and

pushing buttons that open magical doors.

creates

thirsts.

could one possibly be at a loss

prepare " the child for his lesson

thrall

!*'

meant, and thence found myself treading, or rushing,

how

like

moment

swept her off her

half hour, hardly

recollection

to undertake the education of a child

It is

just as her

very

Anywhere

there !

knot of wood,

so beautifully interrelated

itself,

door

hall

through a veritable labyrinth of knowledge,

intuition

room.

But where would

a torrent of ideas long pent

paprika, so to speak,

which welled up with the

in school.

what

gave

'*
:

that Hterally

feet.

up.

had gotten

in the Httle

at that

pointing to the knot in the

a brilliant, devastating

followed

small knot in the panel of the door

Where

child

first

it

Pacing back and forth,

found myself up against the

words penetrated

private

the futility and absurdity

of sending the child to school. Thoroughly engrossed,

up from

given

scene connected with

which passed between the mother of

this subject

if

frightening to parents

ftlDJiR
(

To what
rise,

lengths the teacher

may

go, to

what heights he may

what powers he may draw on, we have but

story of Helen Keller's awakening to learn.

teacher, this Miss SulUvan.

a task to confront

of love and
all,

The

to turn to the

There was a great

dumb and blindwhat

pupil deaf,

miracles she accomplished

bom

were

But above

Patience, love, understanding.

patience.

Whoever

patience.

ttAGGARD

has not read the amazing Hfe of Helen Keller

has missed one of the great chapters in the history of education.

When
when
Dante
.

came

of Socrates and of the Peripatetic schools,

to read

later in Paris I

roamed through

there

is

by

the precincts haunted

were then conducted out of doors

(the university curricula

a street in this district, near

Notre Dame, named

after

the very straw they slept on, these ardent students of the Middle

when

Ages),

when

read of the origins of our postal system and the

part played in

it

by

in such places as

(who were

university students

thought of that

education

lifelike

Union Square and Madison

soapbox orators held

forth,

when

the runners),

had unwittingly received

Square, where the

recalled the heroic roles,

in truth were educational roles, played

by such

figures

which

of the pubHc

square as Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, Carlo Tresca, Giovanitti, Big

Haywood, Jim Larkin, Hubert Harrison and such like, I was

more than ever convinced that as boys, on our own, we were on
Bill

the right track

one acquired
I

we had

sensed that education was a

closer then to Plato, Pythagoras, Epictetus,

felt

vital process,

of Hfe by Hving and wrestling with

in the midst

Hfe.

Dante and

all

When my

the ancient illustrious ones than ever before or since.

Hindu messenger boys in the telegraph company told me of Tagore's

famous " Shantiniketan," when I read of Ramakrishna's bright
abode,

when

the world
is

disastrous.

in foul

thought of Saint Francis and the

was wrong and

that education as

birds, I

stunted, martyrized.

eyes, hostile eyes,

bas

^oles

les

again, I say, I plan to read Emile.

fiasco

I shall

Montessori, Pestalozzi and

in our present system

read
all

which

What

him

we

Vive

that

have been betrayed,

le plein air

take to the jungle

Once

matter if Rousseau's theories

as I

the others.

read the works of Ferrer,

Anything to put a spike

turns out dolts, jackasses,

weathervanes, bigots and blind leaders of the blind.

let us

knew

conducted today

We who have sat behind closed doors on hard benches

rooms under stem

proved a

it is

tame ducks,
If needs be,


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
Certainly it shall overtake us,
Behold the lot of man
and we shall sleep. Certainly, too, we shall awake and
Hve again, and again shall sleep, and so on and so on,
through periods, spaces, and times, from aeon unto aeon,
till the world is dead, and the worlds beyond the world
are dead, and naught Hveth save the Spirit that is life
!

Thus speaks Ayesha

tombs of Kor.

boy wonders mightily over such

naught Hveth save the

as

in the

Spirit that

well as to school, he heard

But from the

pulpit such talk

becomes awake

twenty,

a phrase as the
If he

is Life.**

much
falls

It is

thirty, forty years later

There

Nor

receives.

is

when
no

it

such

as the

become
.

Hfe,

is

Jesus

every boy instinctively divines.

manifests itself at birth.

He

words

wholly

rest is

jumble and
" savage "

common

The world
apart.

do not conform to

sense

travail,

until

one has

and abandoned.

something beyond, above, and anterior to earthly

he himself Hved wholly in the

identity.

is

and utterly

desperate, lost, utterly forsaken

That there

when one
the

All that remains of

distinct

one has passed through sorrow and

until

only

that

can there be any spiritual blossoming.

of the chapel and the world outside are

The language and behavior of

He

repeats the rituals

It is

He

Spirit.

only a few years since

has an identity which

struggles to preserve this prcdous

of his primitive

forbears,

he rcHves

the struggles and ordeals of mythical heroes, he organizes his

secret

orderto

teachers

a
in

Looking back upon myself

member of

Neither

preserve a sacred tradition.

nor preachers play any part in

of youth.

and

awesome, majestic sound of

was in flower. The

initiation,

**

last

sent to church

The Church

unrelated to the other activities of a boy's Hfe.

this discipline, this instruction, is the

confusion.

was

about the Spirit from the pulpit.

on deaf ears.

of the Gospel acquire depth and meaning.

the English language

the lost tribe of Israel.

this all-important

as a

boy,

domain

exactly like

like

Alain-Foumier

this secret

order of youth.

Some,

The Wanderer^ are never able to desert

I feel

own

parents,

Bruised by every contact with the world of adults, they immolate

themselves in dream and reverie.
are they

made

to suffer.

Especially in the realm of love

OccasionaUy they leave us a

a testament of the true and ancient faith,

88

Httle

book,

which wc read with dim


RIDBR HAGGARD
over

eyes, marvelling

More

than ever do

we

are

own

weeping over our

beUeve that

age

at a certain

to the grave not

knowing who we

Else

why we

are or

are

fate.

becomes

it

imperative to reread the books of childhood and youth.

may go

we

sorcery, aware, but too late, that

its

looking at ourselves, that

we

Hved,

A stonyhearted mother is our earth, and stones are the~>

bread she gives her children for their daily food. Stones
to eat and bitter water for their thirst, and stripes for/
tender nurture.

boy wonders

if it

of good Cometh

be truly thus.

He wonders

anguish and dismay.

Such thoughts

and out of evil good." Familiar though

evil

coming from the mouth of Ayesha the .thought

Of such
But

it

be,

troubles him.

mere echo.

matters he has heard Httle that was not

surmises that he

him with

fill

reads that " out

when he

again

He

indeed in some mysterious fane.

is

when Ayesha explains that it is not by force but by

when she exclaims "My empire is of the

it is

terror that she reigns,

imagination

He

"

then a

it is

boy

world."

Well he has

is

There

not.

is

it.

There

is

the hint

at least for a

all

them

to the

that

if

that age, death, evil, sin, ugliness, crime

and

man

he would

oflfers

There creeps over him a suspicion, even

full.

some-

question of dominion

boy

dared to imagine the dazzling possibiHties Hfe

of the

legislators

a mightier thought here,

thing which hfts us above the world and

over

The imagination

startled to the core.

"the undenominated

has not heard yet of

only

realize

if fleeting,

firustration are

but

by man and imposed by man upon himself

and his feUow man ... In this fleeting moment one is shaken
to the roots. One begins to question everything. The result, need-

limitations conceived

less

to say,

is

that

my

art foolish,

he

son

is
!

covered with mockery and

"

That

is

ridicule.

"

Thou

the refrain.

There will come similar confrontations with the written word,

more and more of them,

shattering,

more

the brink of madness.

hand.

No,

as

time goes on.

impenetrable.

And

Some

will be even

him

more

reeling to

ever and always none to ofler a helping

the farther one advances the

One becomes Hke

Some

will send

more one

stands alone.

naked infant abandoned in the wilderness.

89

THE BOOKS IK MY LIPB

Finally one runs amok or one conforms. At this juncture the drama
surrounding one's " identity " is played out for good and all. At

point the die

this

judgeit

wage

to

takes

earner, husband, father, then

One

seems to take place in the twinkle of an eye.

all

does one*s best

Our

or one

One joins up

cast irrevocably.

is

From boy

to the jungle.

that age-old excuse.

Meanwhile

backs ever bent to receive the lash,

us by.

life passes

we have

murmur

only to

few words of gratitude and our pcrsecuton accept our reverence.

Only one hope remains to become oneself tyrant and executioner.
a

From " The

one

man
**

Place of Life,"

over into the

passes

where one took

Tomb

has a right to avoid and evade

There

boy,

liuing death.

one being, one law and one

is

his stance as a

of Death, the only death which

one race of man," says EHphas Levi

as there is

feith,

in his celebrated

only

work, The

History of Magic.

would not be

a statement but

rash

than the so-called

it

Rimbaud

that

enough

"wise"

sphinx of

beheve was obsessed by

much

is

The boy prodigy, Arthur

adult.

modem

nearer to understanding

literature

this

domain.

I felt

that

him*

he had pre-

as

mere boy he turned

his

back

poetry, broke with his confreres, and, in accepting a Hfe of brute

toil,
*'

have reason to

Because of his refusal to surrender the vision

of truth which he had glimpsed

on

we

In a study devoted to

this idea.

dubbed him " The Columbus of Youth."

empted

boy understands such

to say that a

will say that he

committed

Hterally

What

ani

In the hell of

suicide.

I doing here ? "

In

Aden he

the famous Lettre d*un

asks

Voyant

we have intimations of a thought which Levi has expressed thus

may be understood in a day to come that seeing is actually

"It

speaking and that the consciousness of light

hfe in being."
days.

Is it

It is

by boys

Speaking of the Devil, Levi says

whatsoever has a name

Serialized

Directions XI.

90

exists

adult finds

in

the

it

"

speech

cannot be vain, and

itself it

The ordinary
*

a twilight

of eternal

many boys Hve

their

any wonder then that certain books, originally intended

for adults, should be appropriated

but in

is

in this singular twilight that

it

We

would point out

may

that

be uttered in vain,

has a meaning invariably."

difficult to

accept such a statement.

annual anthologies, Neti/ DireetioHs

and

New

RIDER HAGGARD
Even

"cultured"

the writer, particularly the

presumably the " word "

is

whom

writer, for

thought unpalatable.

sacred, finds this

boy, on the other hand, if such a statement were explained to

him, would find truth and meaning in

vain "

him

neither

is

Our

to swallow.

children are at

to terrify and stupefy us.

which has come

trend

unknown

it.

For him nothing

home

to

world which seems

in a

ment on our own quaking world of feeble

our supposedly superior

a

are ready, at

and beyond.

They beg

Vega

a moment's notice, to take off for

to furnish

intellects

new cosmology.

scientists,

our children

They

beyond the moon.

far

now become

boys, the

moon

imminent conquest of the

have already voyaged

whose impinge-

reality has

Our grown-up

oppressive and menacing.

cosmogony and

" in

am not thinking altogether of the sadistic

the fore
I am thinking rather of the

worlds, microcosmic and macrocosmic,

prate about the

is

anything too incredible, too monstrous, for

them with a new

They have grown

intolerant

of our naive, limited, antiquated theories of the universe.

If

Rimbaud may be

said to

because of his failure to

and

truly

modem

estabHsh a

^view

win

have broken

of man,

new heaven and a new

ripe. Nor is it yet,

time was not

beware more and more of

his heart

he surrendered

if

earth,

all

new

desire to

we now know why. The

(Though we should

apparently.

" seeming "

all

with chagrin

contemporaries over to a

his

obstacles, hindrances

The rhythm of time has been accelerated almost

beyond comprehension. We are moving towards the day, and
with frightening speed, when past, present and future wiU appear
as one. The millennium ahead will not resemble, in duration, any
like period in the past. It may be like the wink of an eye.
But to return to She
The chapter in which Ayesha is consumed in the flame of life an extraordinary piece of writing
and

barriers.)

is

burned into

my

being.

It

was

and remembered.

came awake

at this

point in the narrative that

was because of this gruesome,

It

harrowing event that the book remained with

That
I

had

difficulty in

attribute to the

which Haggard

summoning

it

naked horror which

it

inspired.

takes to describe her death

whole gamut of devolution.

describes but reduction,

One

me

all

these years.

from the depths of memory

In the brief space

one Hves through the

not death indeed which he

It

is

is

privileged, as

it

were, to

assist

91

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

of Nature reclaiming from her victim the

at the spectacle

from her. By observing

which had been

stolen

the sense of awe

which Ues

at the

very roots of our being

we

Prepared to witness a miracle,

fiasco

beyond human comprehension.

me remind

let

are

tells

us,

at the Place

of

Life,

is

Life

What he

are very close together.

probably meant us to understand

that they are twins,

and that

given us to experience the miracle of life, only once

is it

the miracle

enhanced.

is

to participate in a

the reader, that this unique death takes place.

and death. Haggard

only once

made
It is

secret

the process in reverse

of death

what happens

between

in

is

like the turning

of a wheel, a perpetual rotation about an inner void, a dream that

never ends, the activity of the wheel having nothing to do with

movement engendering it.

The deathless beauty of Ayesha, her seeming immortaHty, her
wisdom which is ageless, her powers of sorcery and enchantment,
the

her dominion over

life

and death,

as

Rider Haggard slowly but

might well serve

deftly reveals this mysterious being to us,

description of the soul

and

same time constmies

at the

That which

of Nature.

her,

is

Spirit

No

as a

Ayesha,

the faith that she will

eventually be reunited with her beloved.

Beloved be but the holy

sustains

less

And what

could the

a gift than this could

endowed with her matchless hunger, patience and

The love which alone can transform the soul of Nature
is divine love.
Time counts for naught when spirit and soul are
The splendor of neither can be made manifest except
divorced.
through union. Man, the only creature possessed of a dual nature,
remains a riddle unto himself, keeps revolving on the wheel of
The drama
life and death, until he pierces the enigma of identity.
suffice a soul

fortitude.

of

love,

which

is

the highest he

may

enact, carries within

it

the

key to the mystery. One law, one being, one faith, one race of
" To die means to be cut oflf, not to cease being."
man. Aye
!

In his inabiUty to surrender to

man

life,

cuts himself off.

Ayesha,

seemingly deathless, had thus cut herself off by renouncing the

spirit

which was

in her.

The beloved

the

first

this

incestuous

time,

is

killed

murder

by Ayesha's
is

arrestation.

power, wisdom and youth,

92

is

Kallikrates, her

twin

soul,

when he gazes upon it

own will. The punishment

unable to bear the splendor of her soul

for

for

Ayesha, invested with beauty,

doomed

to wait until her Beloved

HAGGARD

RIDER
assumes

The

once again.

flesh

which

generations of time

Ayesha's Devachan

another.

remote from Hfe

the Caves of K6r.

is

There she

is

as

In this same dread place

limbo.

as the soul in

pass

from

in the interval are like the period separating one incarnation

KalHkrates too, or rather the preserved shell of her immortal love,

His image

passes the interval.

in

life,

Ayesha

with her constantly.

is

her with the brightoess of a funeral pyre.

ingly, in

which

An

the lesson of love.

not of love, not of understanding.

in cmelest fashion.

no mortal man

The

veil

It is

tom from

being.

whom

to

Isis,

lesson

more

of despair,

will be tested
veil

which

Then

moment.

Then, open to love, she will

Then

in spirit as well as soul.

this final

bom

which

her, at the crucial

the miracle of death, that death

coming of

a faith

is

yet

divine virginity, in short

^her

she will stand revealed to herself

move forward

faith

is

which wraps her round, the

has penetrated

be removed,

deeds, her thoughts,

Godlike, she

Her

vulnerable than the merest mortal.

in

time, seem-

all

of preparation for the one

endless time

she has yet to learn

She has

weigh her

to review her past, to

her emotions.

the

bums

a tyrannical will, in an insatiable love of power,

itself in

will

Possessive

equally possessive in death. Jealousy, manifesting

is

she will be ready for

With

which comes but once.

death she will enter the deathless realm of

she had

sworn

be no

eternal devotion, will

more. Devotion, transformed by love, merges with undentanding,

That which always was, always

then death, then divine being.

will be,

now

is

nature of one*s

tme

identity

of the dragon swallowing

To summarize

Nameless, timeless, indefinable, the

eternally.

thus swallowed

is

thus briefly the saHent features

romance, especially perhaps to

is

to

do an

ofler interpretation

injustice to the author.

Haggard which

up in the manner

its tail.

intrigues

me

But there

enormously.

orthodox in

dual, conventional in his ways,

An

is

of

of

this

his

a duality in

this

one might

man who

is

reticent

through

say, reveals

a hidden being, a hidden lore

writing these romances

so to speak

at

his beHefs,

though

enabled him to tap

fiill

practical

and reserved, English to the core,

**
romances " a hidden nature,

his

which

fiill

Rider

earth-bound indivi-

of curiosity and tolerance, endowed with great vitaHty and

wisdom,

great

theme,

is

amazing.

His method of

speed, hardly stopping to think,

his

unconscious with freedom and

93

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB

depth.

by

It is as if,

virtue of this technique, he found the

project the living plasm

of previous

way

to

In spinning

incarnations.

he permits the narrator to philosophize in a loose way,

his tales

thus permitting the reader to obtain glimpses and flashes of his

His

true thoughts.

story-teller's gift,

however,

is

too great for

to allow his deepest reflections to assume the cloying

dimensions which would break the

With
not

these brief sidelights

know

some of

on

spell

of the

recital.

the author for the reader

She or the sequel called Ayesha,

the mysterious filaments

let

by which

him

form and

me

who may

proceed to expose

a boy, this particular

boy, myself, was bound and doubtless formed in ways beyond

his

knowing.

have said that Helen of Troy was never

Certainly I read of her before

happened upon She.

real to

me.

Everything

my

golden legends of Troy and Crete was part of

relating to the

Through the talcs interwoven with the legend

and romance of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table

childhood legacy.

had become acquainted with other legendary and

hoary wizards were

myself in

dealing with the

tales

me.

also familiar to

Egypt and elsewhere.

deathless

The awesome deeds of MerUn and

beauties, notably Isolt.

mention

rites

of the dead,

all this

other

had presumably steeped

as practiced in

to indicate that the collision

with Rider Haggard's subject matter was not in the nature of a

fint shock.

had been prepared, if

perhaps because of his

skill as

may

put

it

way.

that

But

a narrator, perhaps because he had

struck just the right tone, the right level of understanding for a

boy, the force of these combined factors permitted the arrow to

reach

its

destined target for the

first

time.

was pierced through

and throughin the Place of Love, in the Place of Beauty, in the

Place of Life.

wound.

It

Just as

was

of Life that

at the Place

Ayesha had

received the mortal

dealt death toiler beloved instead

of

thereby condemning herself to a prolonged purgatorial existence,

so had I been dealt a " Htde " death, I suspect, on closing this book
life,

some

forty-five years ago.

visions

Gone, seemingly forever, were

of Love, of Eternal Beauty, of Renunciation and

of Life Eternal. Like Rimbaud, however, in

of the

poet-seer,

may

exclaim

consumed by the devouring

of
94

life,

my

Sacrifice,

referring to the visions

" But I saw them

"

Ayesha,

flame, at the very source and fount

took with her into limbo

all

that

was sacred and precious

HAGGAltD

HlDEft
to me. Only once

of

is it given to

dawns slowly,

this

experience the miracle of

vciry slowly,

raw

revolt against books, against

as

well as Nature and

life.

The import

upon me. Again and again

experience, against

wisdom

itself,

God knows what all. But I am always brought

back, sometimes at the very edge of the fateful precipice.

"

Whoever

has not

become

so through death."*

love, participation,

the very source of

Youth
is

He

Httle.

It is

spirit.

From

everything
all,

from

not the only kind, but

To

it

worship youth instead

worship power.

itself is as disastrous as to

eternally renewable.

He

aliveness.

world of

vitally linked to the

of hfe

from what

off

wisdom, experience, but above

life.

one kind of

is

not become

be the hidden note in all

Gutkind says, " means to be

this to

die," as

Cut

not to cease."

cut off,

from

To

**

reUgious teachings.

fully alive in this Ufe will

beUeve

Only wisdom

is

But of Ufe-wisdom contemporary man knows

has not only lost his youth, he has lost his innocence.

clings to illusions, ideals, beHefs.

now

Saw," which

affects

me

as

did long ago, the narrator, after watching Ayesha

as it

consumed by the flame of

reflects thus

life,

**
:

Ayesha locked up

tomb, waiting from age to age for the coming of her

in her living

worked but

lover,

We

"What

In the chapter called

deeply

of the world. But

a small change in the order

Ayesha, strong and happy in her love, clothed with immortal

youth, godlike beauty and power, and the

wisdom of the

centuries,

would have revolutionized society, and even perchance have changed

the destinies of

which

eternal law, and, strong

nothingness

One

though she was, by

it

was swept back into

."

who

attempted to revolutionize society and thereby

of man

alter the destiny

Lucifer, Prometheus,

Mahomet, Napoleon

the Prince of Darkness, the

Each one paid for

I

then he adds this sentence, upon

" Thus she opposed herself to the

immediately thinks of the great figures in myth, legend

and history

Jesus,

And

Mankind."

have pondered long

firmly believe,

is

his

closer to

Collective,

Akhnaton, Ashoka,

thinks especially of Lucifer,

most shining revolutionary of

" crime."

dominion over the dark

* The Absolute

One

Yet

God

forces

by Erich

all

than the

all.

The rebel,
To him is given

arc revered.
saint.

which we must obey before we

Gutkiiid.

95

THE BOOKS IN MY LIfE

The

can receive the light of illumination.

which has meaning

the only revolution

of man.
is

the true significance of the plunge into

This

come

is

word which, on

the

me.

to haunt

such books

This

stream, of becoming

life's

Louis Lambert^ Seraphita, Interlinear

as

dominion over me.

Siddhartha^ to exercise

a fatuous task
life

What

"

"

said Goethe,

we

We

of

can possibly be more

had

received

my

writing

about myself

"What

than the story

fictive

Similarly

^we

might say

but

telling the truth,

who had

which caused

Caheza de Vaca,

by reading [Winckelman],"

learn nothing

become something."

times discover ourselves.

to

began

telling the truth

of ourselves by

reveal nothing

found that

rereading Rider Haggard,

the riddle of identity

It is

career with the intention

of one's

whole goal

awakening, recovering one's complete identity.

Rilly alive,

has

the

is

a revolution which can occur only in his being.

It is

Identity

return to the source,

man,

for

we do some-

thought to give something

something.

Why the emphasis, in my works, on crude, repetitious experience

of life

Is it

not dust in the eye

myself ?

In the world of sex

myself.

It

all

is

{Spirit

The

seeming.

certainly smothered,

is

Am I revealing myself or finding

seem

alternately to lose

conflict,

which

if

and to find

not hidden

is

the conflict between Spirit and Reality.

and Reality y incidentally,

is

the

title

whom I have discovered only recendy.)

of a book by a blood brother

For a long time

for

reality

me

was Woman. Which is equivalent to sayingNature, Myth, Country,

Mother, Chaos.

I expatiate

to the

reader's

amazement, no doubton

romance called She, forgetting that I dedicated the cornerstone of my

autobiography to " Her." How very much there was of " She " in
a

" Her "

black

pit.

beauty,

In place of die great Caves of K6r

described the bottomless

Like " She," " Her " also strove desperately to give

power and dominion over

others,

even

if

me

hfc,

only through the

magic of words. " Her's " too was an endless immolation, a waiting (in

how

" Her " dealt

awfiil a sense

me

!)

of

fear

and jealousy

terrible beauty.

Her

fearfiil

passion, out

Her

slavish minions, if

aime

when
96

?
I

And

for the Beloved to return.

death in the Place of Life, was

?

What was

power over

others.

it

the secret of

Her contempt

not the desire to expiate Her crime

That she had robbed

me

was about to recover

it.

of my identity
In

Her

if

not also in blind

at the

very

Her
for

The

moment

lived as truly as the

image

RIDER HAGGARD
of the
In

slaiii

some

of immortalizing Her,

way, having dedicated myself to the task

convinced myself that

Life in return for Death.

thought
I

make

could

mind, heart and soul of Ayesha.

Kallikrates lived in the

strange, twisted

thought

live again

it

The wound

upon me.

wound

not

this,

the

The "

that.

was.

me

held

in their thrall.

made

And

the flesh and the unnameable one.

At Mycenae, standing before

Greek

comes

it

was not
I

which

both the one in

found

at last that

the grave of Clytemnestra,

CUmbing down

described in the

into the bowels

many

of Kor.

But what

is

more

still,

my

life

now am,

of being

why

reUved

experienced the

boy when descending

that I

have stood before

many

awe-inspiring,

is

chamel house.

the

remembrance

have gazed too long upon Beauty,

and

have always experienced

touch of horror too.

What

The dim remembrance of being

fit

the gift of love, the truth

ask ourselves,

more

Fear,

the origin of this horror

I

me

of the female,

particularly the beauty

the sensation of fear.

did as a

seems to

It

vivid

whenever in

that,

than did

the sUppery stairs to the

have looked into

a bottomless pit,

me more

book on Greece,

same sensation of horror which

of God.

Why, do we

not sometimes

the fatidical beauty in the great heroines of love

throughout the ages

There
at the

is

Why do

a sentence in She

moment when

that physical

they seem so logically and naturally

which

is

strikingly penetrative.

brighmess of my being would

when

(I
I

would give anything

read

them

as a

It

evil

comes

Ayesha, having found her Beloved, realizes

union must be postponed" yet a while.

not mate with thee, for thou and

thee."

is

other

(once) to receive the blessings of beaury%

surrounded by death, bolstered by crime, nourished by

may

see

the Circes

all

discovered that father

which nourished

tragedies

the great Shakespeare.

than

All

inflicted

one.

the ancient

pit,

father,
I

past,
!

isness."

recognize

More, immeasurably more

and son are one.

all is

my

found

"

clearer than the

is

meaning of the long Odyssey

who

see very clearly that

**

notness

had been

that

and with the pain of

lives,

still

remembrance of what

the

Vanity, vanity

in truth.

accomplished was to reopen the

was giving Her

could resurrect the

boy

bum
to

are different,

**

As yet

and the very

thee up, and perchance destroy

know what I made of these words

!)

97

THE BOOKS
No

matter

MT

IN

LIFB

how much

dwell on the works of others

come

back inevitably to the one and only book, the book of myself
**
Can I be/' says Miguel de Unamuno, " as I believe myself or

me

as others believe

to be

Here

unknown and unknowable

legend wherein

These

lines

came nearer

>y

**

the

monument

create the

And

Tropic of Capricorn

begun

then, having

monumental work.

The

book

to Her, the

any~^ook

which

in

have

had promised mysdf

was to

deliver

not have the courage to begin until about eight

years ago.

this

where

believer~feii

book which

Ilie

five years.

of

is

appear in the fly-leaf to Black Spring, a book which

to being myself,

secret," I did

chamber.

Here

myself

for

become a

these lines

and unknowable mc

must bury myself."

written before or since.

to create as a

where

is

my unknown

confession in the presence of

truth

when jotting down

is

It is

that

more

wrote

it,

put

was intended

(in the space

this

aside for another

it

to be the cornerstone

like a vestibule

or ante-

dread book* in

my

head

of about eighteen continuous hours)

the complete outline or notes covering the subject matter of this

work.

made

this cryptic skeleton

a period of brief separation

sessed

and

utterly desolate.

to the dot that

laid

now

It is

was to be the Book of My

Life

my

life

reached

it

to say

is

We

and become one with

myth and

oneself in chaos.

go, nor even

know

who we

on sometimes Hke

To

legend.

We
**

are.

this

with Her.

composed

it.

To employ

had no thought
It

Of what stupen!

All
until

the

is

voyage,

we

word

have

reality

speak of creation means to bury

not whence

We set sail

we come

nor whither

we

for the golden shores, sped

arrows of longing," and

destination in the full glory

one grand book.

aware of the goal

are not even

opus during

was completely pos-

almost twenty-three years

dous, unimaginable detours are our Uves

quest.

out the plan of the book.

whatever then of writing anything but

all is

magnum

of the

fi-om " Her."

of realization

or

we

else as

arrive at

our

unrecognizable

pulp from which the essence of life has been squashed. But let us
word ** failure " which attaches itself to

not be deceived by that

certain illustrious
seal

to brother

98

names and which

and symbol of martyrdom.

Tlie

Theo

Rosy

is

nothing more than the written

When the

that the expression " love

Crucifixion.

good Dr. Gachet wrote

of

art

" did not apply

^

"

RIOBR HAGGARD
in Vincent's case, that

we

to his art,

most glorious

the

Professor

Dandieu

we

dead,"

**

his

was rather

case

with

full hearts that

failures

" in the history

realize

states that

**

Proust was

understand immediately that

of " martyrdom

Van Gogh was one of

of art. Similarly, when
the

most

living

of the

" living corpse " had

this

walled himself in to expose the absurdity and the emptiness of

our feverish

me
of

Montaigne from

activity.

beam of light down

the centuries.

enormously and helped to

If Life

failure.

and
It

The

erase

his

**

Failure,

from

my

retreat

" throws a

by Papini, incited
mind all thought

and Death are very near together, so are success

failure.

our great fortune sometimes to misinterpret our destiny

is

when

it is

ourselves.
tically to

revealed to us.

We

We

try to avoid the

often

accompHsh our ends

despite

swamps and jungles, we seek

fran-

escape the wilderness or the desert (one and the same),

we attach ourselves to leaders, we worship the gods instead of the

One and Only, we lose ourselves in the labyrinth, we fly to distant
shores

and speak with other tongues, adopt other customs, manners,

conventions, but ever and always are

end, concealed

from

us

till

the last

we

driven towards our true

moment.

99

"

V
JEAN GIONO
was

It

one of those humble stationery

in the rue d'Al^ia, in

which

sell

books, that

first

came

was the daughter of the proprietor

thrust

upon

Mans

Desiring).

nic the

book

called

who

Que majoie demeure

making

In 1939, after

her soul

^blcss

me Jean

for

le

Both

Greece.

Bleu {Blue Boy), which

these French editions

returning to America, however,

Pascal Covici,

him

one of the

Manosque.

How

bought

the boat going to

my

On

wanderings.

soon made the acquaintance of

of the Viking

that has

Press,

and through

been translated of Giono

have maintained a random correspondence

who

with Giono,

all

lost in

Manosquc

latter

sadly confess.

Between times

on

editors

got acquainted with

not very much,

on

read

It

literally

(The Joy of

a pilgrimage to

with Giono's boyhood friend, Henri Fluch^re, the

stores

worb.

across Jean Giono's

continues to live in the place of his birth,

often

the occasion of

my

have regretted that

visit to his

home

he

him

did not meet

was off then on

walking expedition through the countryside he describes with such

deep poetic imagination in

his

books. But if

can certainly say that

the flesh

so have

many

know him

never meet him in

have met him in the

wide world.

others throughout this

only through the screen versions of his books

and The Baker's Wife.

formance of these

No

films,

one ever leaves the

No

with a dry eye.

find,

Harvest

one ever looks upon

same way

as

he

nor, after seeing The Baker's Wife, does one think of the

cuckold with the same raucous

But

theatre, after a per-

a loaf of bread, after seeing Harvest, in quite the

used to

And

spirit.

Some,

levity.

these are trifling observations

few moments ago, tenderly flipping the pages of his books, I

was saying to myself " Tenderize your finger tips Make yourself
!

ready for the great task

For several years

100

now

have been preaching the gospel

of


JBAN GIONO
Jean Giono.
ears,

do not say

do not doubt

that

New

Press in

my words
my audience

have

that

merely complain that

have made myself a nuisance

York, for

Giono

immodest,

own

in his

in his

own

books are

until his

tongue and,

Fortunately

at the risk

But, as ever,

idiom.

the countless thousands in

that

I feel

am

American publishers despair of reaching.

sway the

hearts

who must

is

who

spoken. But

hold, in a

think

whom

shall

manner of speaking,

^in

England,

his destiny in their hands.

statistics

go forward with the

publishers to

nor examples,

in this,

my native

probably succeed in getting Giono translated into

Turkish and Chinese before

Arabic,

could even

seem incapable of moving those few pivotal beings

budge the position of editors and pubHshers

land.

Mans

convince his American

Desiring

was looking

Queen Anne's lace**

chief figure in the book

Orion "looking

noticed these words of Bobi, the

task they so sincerely began.

Flipping the pages of The Joy of

for the reference to
I

have never heard of him

Neither with logic nor passion, neither with

can

wait

could convert to the

New Zealand and other places where the English language

Austraha,

who

of those

able

continue to think of

England and America

translated.

of sounding

ranks of his ever-growing admirers innumerable readers

his

Viking

at the

keep pestering them intermittently to

speed up the translations of Giono's works.

to read

upon deaf

fallen

has been restricted.

like

have never been able to show people things.

It's
I have always been reproached for It.
They say
No one sees what you mean.'
I

curious.
*

Nothing could
I

add

better express the

way

I feel at

Giono, too, must often experience

Otherwise

am

times. Hesitatingly

this sense

of

frustration.

unable to account for the fact that, despite the

incontrovertible logic

of dollars and cents with which

his publishers

always silence me, his works have not spread Uke wildfire on

this

continent.

am

to. I may be
am not convinced. On the other hand, I must confess
that I do not know the formula for " success," as publishers use
the term. I doubt if they do either. Nor do I think a man like
Giono would thank me for making him a commercial success.
I

never convinced by the sort of logic referred

silenced,

but

lOI

TM

BOOKS

He would

MY

IN

LIFB

be retd more,

like to

What

certainly.

author does not

Like every author, he would especially like to be read by those

who

what he means.

see

Herbert Read paid him a high tribute in a paper written during

the War. He referred to him as the " peasant-anarchist." (I am
sure his publishers are not keen to advertise such a label

not think of Giono, myself, either

Giono

to be sure.)

If

Thoreau.

Giono

If

is

an

Giono

Herman

Melville, in the

of anarchism in

enlarges the concept

When

philosophic adumbrations.

book

he touches a

we come very
more important, close
His poetry

is

power
rank,

It

is

to captivate

This

by

is

vintages, lend

in

which he

to manifest

is

body and tang

terrestrial

own

Faulkner,

it

Pan

**

still

happen

**

to

men

walks the earth.

Events " transpire."

as

womb

him by

his

he has written

As

seems to me, could

It is

for the soil

created his

far closer

a region over

pulsations.

It is

never

fails

relate cause

own

private

to reaUty than

which the
a land in

stars

which

aeons ago they happened to the gods.

The

soil is saturated

Miracles occur.

betray the figures, the characters,

the

even

a poet.

reveals his

his true patriotism

Giono has

and planets course with throbbing

things

is

In his Corsican blood there

domain, a mythical domain

books of history or geography.

is

of Greece when added to French

which

only a wizard,

to effect. Like our

whom

of

to the GalUc tongue.

rooted, and for

itself,

Giono

the legacy left

his father,

a strain which, like the wines

(which

translated for

everywhere, regardless of

so tenderly, so movingly, in Blue Boy.

is

his

own

reveals itself just as forcibly

this ftinction that

or pursuit.

class, status

our

and, what

men and women

parents, particularly, I feel,

was

it

This Giono

to the real Melville.

through

like

Giono

close to the real

of the imagination and

in his prose.

man

called Pour Saluer Melville

the Viking Press refuses to bring out, though

them),

regarding

figiures in

Giono ennobles the peasant

these aspects, these angles.

in his narratives

But we do

was Tolstoy.

not begin to touch the essence of these great

them from

were Emerson and

anarchist, then so

a peasant, then so

is

do

(Neither does Herbert Read,

regard neither term as pejorative.

!)

or anarchist, though

as peasant

And

whom

with cosmic

juices.

never does the author

he has conjured out of

of his rich imagination. His men and

women have

their

prototypes in the legends of provincial France, in the songs of the

;o2

JBAN lONO
troubadors, in the daily doings of humble,

an endless

unknown

peasants,

of them, firom Charlemagne's day to the very

line

present.

works we have the sombreness of Hardy's moors, the

In Giono's

eloquence of Lawrence's flowers and lowly creatures, the enchant-

ment and sorcery of Arthur Machen's Welsh

settings, the

freedom

and violence of Faulkner's world, the buffoonery and Hcence of the

medieval mystery plays.

And with

this a

all

pagan charm and

which stems from the ancient Greek world.

sensuality

If we look back on the ten years preceding the outbreak

of the war, the years of steep incline into disaster, then
the significant figures in the French scene are not the

Gides and the Val^rys, or any competitor for the laurels

of the Acad^mie, but Giono, the peasant-anarchist,

Bemanos, the integral Christian, and Br6ton, the
These are the significant figures, and they
super-realist.
are positive figures, creative because destructive, moral
Apparendy
in their revolt against contemporary values.
they are disparate figures, working in different spheres,

along different levels of

human

consciousness

but in

the total sphere of that consciousness their orbits meet,

and include within their points of contact nothing that

compromising, reactionary or decadent ; but contain
everything that is positive, revolutionary, and creative
is

of a

new and

enduring world.*

Giono's revolt against contemporary values runs through

his

in

books.

In Refusal

James Cooney's

to

Uttle

magazine. The Phoenix, so far as

Giono spoke out manfully

bearing arms.

Such

marked

interest

most

do not help

When

falsified.

at heart are the

of his
*

revolt.

Politics

It

begins

Boy.

know,

It

is

make an author more

war comes such a man

reported in the papers,

The men who have

very ones to be

" traitors," " renegades " or worse. Here

made by Giono in Blue

to

the next

whatever he says or docs

exaggerated, distorted,

against war, against conscription, against

diatribes

popular in his native land.

is

all

Obey, which appeared in translation only

is

their country's

vilified,

to be called

an impassioned utterance

may throw a little light on the nature

of the Unpolitical, by Herbert Read, Routledge, London, 19^6.

103

THE BOOKS
I

IN

MY

LIFE

remember how my friendship for Louis David

this moment, as I speak of him, I can no longer

don't

began. At

my pure youth, the enchantment of the magicians

and of the days. I am steeped in blood. Beyond this book
there is a deep wound from which all men of my age are
suffering.
This side of the page is soiled with pus and
recall

darkness

you

If

had only died for honorable things ; if

your litde
But, no.
First they deceived you and then they
(Louis)

you had fought

ones.

you

killed

for love or in getting food for

in the war.

What do you want me

you have

helped,

do with

to

seems, to preserve, as

it

France that

this
I

too have done

What shall we do with it, we who have lost all our friends
Ah If it were a question of defending rivers, hills, moun?

winds, rains, I would say, * Willingly.

our job. Let us fight. All our happiness in life is
No, we have defended the sham name of all that.

That

tains, skies,

there.*

is

see a river, I say

never say

Ah

river

when

see a tree,

That does not

France.'

How willingly

would

say

When
tree

'

exist.

away

give

that false

name

one single one of those dead, the simplest, the most

Nothing can be put into
humble, might Hve again
the scales with the human heart. They are all the time
talking about God
It is God who gave the tiny shove
with His finger to the pendulum of the clock of blood at
the instant me child dropped from its mother's womb.
They are always talking about God, when the only product
of His good workmanship, the only thing that is godhke,
the hfe that He alone can create, in spite of all your science
of bespectacled idiots, that life you destroy at will in an
infamous mortar of slime and spit, with the blessing of
What logic
all your churches.
There is no glory in being French. There is only one
that

glory

in being alive.

When I read
\

a passage

Somewhere

statements.

hke
I

between France and Giono

feeling about

I said

make

to

that if

more America than America

thus

extravagant

had to choose

would choose Giono.

Democrat himself who wrote

democracy
104

am inclined

Whitman. For me Walt Whitman

thousand, times
great

this I

beHeve

have the same

is

itself

a hundred, a
It

was the

about our vaunted

JEAN GIONO

We

have frequently printed the word Democracy. Yet

cannot too often repeat that it is a word the real gist of
which still sleeps, quite unawakened, notwithstanding
the resonance and the many angry tempests out of which
its syllables have come, from pen and tongue.
It is a great
word, whose history, I suppose, remains unwritten, because
I

be enacted.*

that history has yet to

No, a man Hke Giono could never be

a traitor, not even if he

enemy to overrun his country. In

devoted some pages to his Refusal to

folded his hands and allowed the

Maurizius Forever^ wherein

Obey,

"I

put

and

repeat

thus,

is

something wrong with a society which, because

say there

it

quarrels with a man's views, can

Giono
its

is

not a

will

first

its

empty

it

Goethe

Society

principles.

said to

Eckermann

clever and

or

and stronger in action

when God

at least

acute

only

up everything

will break

certain that everything

hour in the

more

is

a traitor to

is

constantly looking
spirit."

Interesting indeed that

is

planned to

Men
time

at epochs. I foresee the

renewed

creation.

am

end, and that the time and

this

distant fiiture for occurrence

aheady fixed

"

but not better, happier,

for a

it

liim as an arch-enemy.

the traitor. Society

European " should have expressed himself thus

become more

The

condemn

is

and finds them among the glorious in

What was
the "

Society

traitor.

fine principles,

for victims

with even greater vehemence

it

of this renovating epoch

are

..."

other day someone mentioned in

my

how

presence

and repetitive was the role of the father in authors* hves.

curious

We

had

been speaking of Joyce, of Utrillo, of Thomas Wolfe, of Lawrence,

of C^Hne, of Van Gogh, of Cendrars, and then of Egyptian myths

and of the legends of Crete.
found

their father,

of those

spoke of Joseph and

We

spoke of those

who were

his brethren,

for instances

was

Vinci.

Then

as

the Hellespont and

frantically searching

where the mother played

only of two, but they were truly

had never

a great role.

illustrious

began to speak o Blue Boy.

names
I

his father

meant

* From Democratic

Fort

my memory
could think

Goethe and da

looked for that extra-

ordinary passage, so meaningful to a writer, wherein Giono

what

We

of Jonathan and David, of the

magic connected with names such

Ticonderoga. As they spoke

who

forever seeking a father.

tells

to him.

Vistas.

105

TBS BOOKS

MY

IN

LIPI

have such love for the memory of my father, it

I can never separate myself from his inuge,
if time cannot cut the thread, it is because in the experience
of every single day I realize all that he has done for me. He
was the first to recognize my sensuousncss. He was the
first to see, with his gray eyes, that sensuousness that made
me touch a wall and imagine the roughness like porous
skin. That sensuousness that prevented me firom learning
music, putting a higher price on the intoxication of listening
than on the joy of being skillfiil, that sensuousness that
made me like a drop of water pierced by the sun, pierced
by the shapes and colors in the world, bearing in truth,
like a drop of water, the form, the color, the sound, the
If

begins, if

my

sensation, physically in

flesh

He

broke nothing, tore nothing in me, stifled nothing,

With the
effaced nothing with his moistened finger.
prescience of an insect he gave the remedies to the Htde larva
diat I was
one day this, the next day that he weighted
me with plants, trees, earth, men hills, women, grief,
;

goodness, pride,

all

these as remedies,

all

these as provision,

of what might be a running sore, but which,

thanks to him, became an immense sun within me.

in prevision

Towards the

of the book, the

close

have a quiet talk under a linden

says his father,

make

will

**

was when

nearing his end, they

fiither

"

Where

made

wanted to be good and

a mistake,"

helpfiil.

You

a mistake, like me."

Heart-rending words.
I

tree.

weep again

Too true, too true.

in recalling his Other's words.

wept when I read

I

weep

this.

for Giono, for

who have striven to be " good and helpfiil." For those

even though they know in their hearts that
it is a
mistake." What we know is nothing compared to what we
feel impelled to do out of the goodness of our hearts. Wisdom can
never be transmitted from one to another. And in the ultimate do
we not abandon wisdom for love
myself, for

who

are

all

still

striving,

*'

There

is

another passage in which father and son converse with

Franchesc Odripano.
*

When

They had been

talking about die art of healing.

a person has a pure breath,*

my

father said,

he

can put out wounds all about him like so many lamps.'
But I was not so sure. I said, * If you put out all the
lamps. Papa, you won t be able to sec anv more.'
At that moment the velvet eyes were still and diey were
looking beyond
io6

my

glorious youth.

JIAN lONO
*
the wounds illumine. That
Odripono a good deal. He has had
experience. If he can stay young amongst us it is because
he is a poet. Do you know what poetry is ? Do you
know that what he says is poetry ? Do you know mat,
son ? It is essential to real^ that. Now listen. I, too,
have had my experiences, and I teU you that you must put
out the wounds. If, when you get to be a man, you know
these two things, poetry and the science of extinguishing
wounds, then you will be a man.*

That

beg the

is

reader's indulgence for quoting at sudi length

familiar

books

rate,

"

these citations.

that practically
his

thought for one

with Giono*s writings

made

to have

replied,

listen to

Giono*s worb. If

was

he

true,*

You

true.

is

**

At

least

that

from

most everyone

would indeed be embarrassed

friend

everyone he had met

asked.

moment

of mine

said the other

knew Jean Giono.

some of them,** he

day

You mean

**

" At any

said.

know what he stands for.** "That*s another

" You're lucky to move in such circles. I have quite

they certainly

story,"

repUed.

another story to
editors

about Giono.

tell

have read him.

How

doubt sometimes that even

to ready that*s

his

the question."

That evening, glancing through a book by Holbrook Jackson,*

I

stumbled on Coleridge*s four

the

who

Sponges,

1.

same

2.

absorb

only a

state,

of readers. Let

me

they read, and return

cite
it

them

nearly in

Httle dirtied.

who

Sand-glasses,

classes
all

retain nothing,

and are content to get

through a book for the sake of getting through the time.

who

3.

Strain-bags,

4.

Mogul diamonds,

what they

read,

merely the dregs of what they read.

equally rare and valuable,

and enable others to profit by

Most of us belong
first

retain

who

in the third category, if not also in

two. Rare indeed are the mogul diamonds

by

profit

it also.

one of the

And now

wish

make an observation connected with the lending of Giono*s books.

The few I possess among them The Song of the World and Lovers are
to

never Losers,

which

I sec I

over and over again to

all

ted with Jean Giono. This

to a considerable

have not mentioned

who expressed
means

number of

that I

visitors

have been loaned

a desire to

become acquain-

have not only handed them

but that

have wrapped and

mailed the books to numerous others, to some in foreign lands

*The Reading of Books,

Scrihnpr's,

New

as

yorlc,^i947.

107

"

THE BOOKS
To no

well.

such

MY

IN

author

as hailed the

LIFB

have recommended has there been

unanimous. " Magnificent

Only one person disapproved,

usual return.

a response

The reactions have been virtually

Thank you, thank you " that is the

reading of Giono.

said flatly that

he could

make nothing of Giono, and that was a man dying of cancer. I had
lent him The Joy of Mans Desiring. He was one of those "success" business

ful

men who had achieved everything and found nothing

I think we may regard his verdict as exceptional.
and they include men and women of all ages, all walks

to sustain him.

The
of

others,

Ufe,

flicting

men and women of the most

aims and tendencies,

diverse views, the

most con-

proclaimed their love, admiration

all

and gratitude for Jean Giono. They do not represent

**

select

The one qualification which

good books

audience, they were chosen at random.

they had in

common was

These are

my

the pubhsher's.

private
It is

a thirst for

the

which

statistics,

hungry and

maintain are

who wiU

thirsty

as

vaHd

as

eventually

decide the future of Giono's works.

There

another man, a tragic figure, whose book

is

upon

friends

and acquaintances

some

strange

way

about writing.
It is

We

connected with Blue Boy.

It is

the writing of a

communication so naked, so

are face to face

with

learn.

Had he

is

It tells

man who is
it is

me

it

is

in

something

mad.

breaks the mold.

almost unbearable. The

one from which every writer can

not gone to the asylum, had

baptismal work,

often thrust

part lucid, part

desperate, that

and

reality,

technique, so utterly personal,

Vaslav Nijinsky. His Diary

we would have had

this

been merely

his

in Nijinsky a writer equal to

the dancer.
I
it

mention

this

book because

may sound presumptuous

not limit Giono in

this

have scanned

to say so,

way, but

it is

it

book

must say

closely.

of a writer,

practiced writer.

One

can-

Boy he gives

with the consummate art of a

that he is a " bom writer." One feels

telling

feels

that he, too, feeds the

writer, instructs the writer, inspires the writer. In Blue

us the genesis

Though

for writers.

it

he might also be a painter, a musician (despite what he says). It

the " Storyteller's Story," I'histoire de I'histoire. It peels away the

that
is

wrappings in which
being.

It

we mummify writers and reveals

biology of that curious animal, the writer.

io8

the

embryonic

gives us the physiology, the chemistry, the physics, the

It is

textbook dipped

JEAN GIONO
magic

in the

source of

all

creative activity.

blood stream.

he has

at least

It is

alas.

one story to

room.

Usually

it

It

connects us with the

renews the

palpitates, it

book which every man who thinks

could write but which he never does,

tell

Seldom does

are telling over

come

it

straight

washed and dressed

it is

name which is

expouncts.

breathes,

which authors

the story

disguises.

it

It

the kind of

It is

myriad

of the medium

fluid

and over again in

from

the deHvery

Usually

first.

given

it is

name.

not the true

His sensuousness, the development of which Giono attributes to his

father's dehcate nurturing,

features

of his

narrative.

the

world

art.

..."

Giono has done

same ripening process

musician because,

he

listener,

is

We

we

says,

he thought

Giono or

it

is

If

that

we

he did not become a

more important

who

follow his melodies

no longer know,

are Hstening to

result

Giono the music and the

In

his special gift.

he has become a writer

such an art that

The

just this.

as the player.

That

as

whole

our points of contact with

tips,

of an instrument which has undergone the

instrument are one.

ourselves.

without question one of the cardinal

" Let us refine our finger

detect in his music the use

good

is

invests his characters, his landscapes, his

It

as if

we had

written

them

whether

in reading his books,

to ourselves.

to be a

has raised Hstening to

we

We are not even aware that

we are Hstening. We Hve through his words and in them, as naturally

as if we were respiring at a comfortable altitude or floating on the
bosom of the deep or swooping like a hawk with the down-draught of
a canyon.
trial

The

effluvium

laved

actions of his narratives are cushioned in this terres-

the machinery never grinds because

by cosmic

lubricants.

Giono

in their molecular constituency.*

to the atomic arena.

troupes, herds,

magma

and

He

gives us

He

men,

has seen

deals in galaxies

flocks, in biological

it is

beasts

perpetually

and gods

no need

and

plasm

and plasma. The names of his characters,

to descend

constellations, in
as

weU

as

well as the

as

primal
hills

and streams which surround them, have the tang, the aroma, the
vigor and the spice of string herbs.
redolent of the Midi.

memory of

other times

African shore.

When we
;

We suspect

They

are autochthonous names,

pronounce them

unknowingly we
that Atlantis

we

revive the

inhale a whifl"

was not so

of the

distant either in

time or space.
* Et bien

niietix qtC

Osseudowski

109


THE BOOKS
a

It is

little

IN

MY

over twenty years

known

at

LIFE

in translation as Hill of Destiny,

author

now since Giono's

by

Colline, published

New York, made die

Brcntano's,

once throughout the reading world. In

duction to the American edition, Jacques

le

explains the purpose of the Prix BrentanOj

which was

his intro-

Clercq, the translator,

first

awarded

to Jean Giono.

For the French public, the Prix Brentano owes its imporTo begin with, it is the
first American Foundation to crown a French work and
to insure the pubHcation of that work in America. The
mere fact that it comes firom abroad Vitranger, cette
" arouses
contemporaine
a
lively
interest
postiriti
tance to various novel features.

was composed of foreigners

gave ample assurance that there could, be no propaganie
ae chapetle here, no manoeuvres of cliques such as must
necessarily attend French prize-awards. Finally the material
value of the prize itself proved of good augur.
again, the fact that the jury

Twenty

years since

new books
first

firom

two of

And just a few months ago I received two

Un Roi Sans Divertissement and No^the

a series of twenty.

He was

them.

Giono

thirty years old

series

when

of " Chroniques" he

Colline

In the interval he has written a respectable

now,

in his

fifties,

he has projected a

won

calls

the Prix Brentano.

number of books. And

of twenty, of which

series

several

have already been written. Just before the war started he had

begun

his celebrated translation

years, in

of Moby Dicky a labor of several

which he was aided by two capable

are given along

with

his as translators

undertaking, since Giono

is

women whose names

An immense

of the book.

not fluent in English. But,

as

he explains

book which followed Pour Saluer Melville Mohy Dick was

his constant companion for years during his walks over the hiUs. He
had lived with the book and it had become a part of him. It was

in the

he should be the one to make

inevitable that
public.

have read parts of

inspired one.

Melville

is

this translation

not one of

my

it

known

and

it

to the Frcndi

seems to

favorites.

me

Mohy Dick

an
has

always been a sort of bete noir for me. But in reading the French
version,
that

Melville,

ue

which

prefer to the original,

have come to the conclusion

some day read the book. After reading Pour

which is a poet's interpretation of a poet " a pure

will

Saluer
in ven-

JBAN GIONO
Giono himself says

tion," as

How

often

own

authors

Frenchman who

by-word throughout

standing of language.

Even

was

literally beside myself.

teaches us to appreciate our

virtually dedicated his Hfe to

of what Baudelaire did to make Poe's name

think, too,

that the understanding

tion.

who

**

think immediately of that wonderful study of

(I

Walt Whitman by
the subject.

in a letter

the " foreigner

it is

It is

in translation

Over and over ^ain we

Europe.)

all

of

language
always

is

communion

some of

versus

communica-

us understand Dostoievsky, for

example, better than his Russian contemporaries

better than

see

not the same, as the imder-

or, shall I say,

our present Russian contemporaries.

noticed, in reading the Introduction to Hill of Destiny, that the

apprehension that

expressed

translator

" squeamish " American

certain

readers.

the

book might offend

It is

curious

how

askance

French authors are regarded by Anglo-Saxons. Even some of the

good CathoHc writers of France are looked upon as " immoral."
It

always reminds

me of my father's anger when he caught me reading

The Wild Ass' Skin. All he needed was to see the name Balzac.
That was enough to convince him that the book was " immoral."
(Fortunately he never caught

of course, had never read a

me

line

reading Droll Stories

of Balzac.

The one

of any English or American author, indeed.

confessed to reading

Ruskin

not

nearly

know how

covered that

him

to Christ

was

his

it

fell

c'est inoui,

mais

off the chair

My father,

I)

He had hardly read

c'est vrai

when he

was John Ruskin.

blurted this out.

was the minister

who had (temporarily) converted

What astounded me even more

admission that he had enjoyed reading Ruskin. That

In Giono*s books, as in Cendrars* and so

there are always wonderful accounts
it is

it

be,

it

still
.

many, many French books,

of eating and drinking. Some-

a feast, as in The Joy of Mans Desiring, sometimes

simple repast. Whatever

still

did

I dis-

responsible.

remains inexplicable to me. But of Ruskin another time

times

to account for such an absurdity, but later

who was

a line

writer he

it is

makes one's mouth water. (There

remains to be written, by an American for Americans, a cook-

book based on
literature.)

French

the recipes gleaned

from

the pages of French

Every dn^aste has observed the prominence given by

fdm

directors

to

eating

and drinking.

conspicuously absent in American movies.

It

When we

is

a feature

have such a
111

JJ)^

THE BOOKS
scene

it is

IN

MY

LIFE

seldom real, neither the food nor the

participants. In France,

whenever two or more come together there

Often

these scenes.

moved,

sensual as well as

is

communion. With what longing American youths look

spiritual

for truly

it is

we know

Httle

The Frenchman

outdoors.

nourishment or because

Then

a repast al fresco.

**

we

are

at

we even more

of the joy of eating and drinking

We

loves " his food.

take food for

are unable to dispense with the liabit.

The Frenchman, even

if he is a man of the cities, is closer to the soil

He does not tamper with or refine away the
products of the soil. He relishes the homely meals as much as the
creations of the gourmet. He Hkes things fresh, not canned or
refrigerated. And almost every Frenchman knows how to cook. I
have never met a Frenchman who did not know how to make such
a simple thing as an omelette, for example. But I know plenty of
Americans who cannot even boil an egg.

than the American.

with good food goes good conversation, another

Naturally,

To have good conversa-

element completely lacking in our country.

tion

almost imperative to have good wine with the meal.

it is

not whisky, not cold beer or

cocktails,

-Ki

variety

of them, the

And

me

let

good

only

How we

what

repels

to be derived

is

sensuous and sensual

from the enjoyment of the

by Malaparte to discover what

uniforms.

And when

We

men

in

neither are

There
There

is

men

How we

beUeve most earnestly

five senses.

is

the pleasure

We

are not a

to read

La Peau

hidden beneath our chival-

say " uniforms "

mean

the garb

which

We
We are not individuals,
collectivity. We are neither
anarchists. We are an unruly

which

disguises the soldier.

uniform through and through.

we members of

democrats, communists,

mob. And

do not need

beasts are

disguises the civihan as well as that

are

banquets for

Americans more than immoraHty

" moral " people by any means.

ric

women
know how to

love to castrate, to mutilate ourselves

really loathe all that

that

How horrible are our

conversation.

Not
The

beautifiil

in addition to stimulating one's appetite,

inspire

indescribable effects they produce

subtle,

not forget that with good food goes

women who,
!

Ah, the wines

ale.

the sign

a great

socialists

by which we

nor
are

known

is

vulgarity.

never vulgarity in even the coarsest pages of Giono.

may be lust, camaUty, sensuality but not vulgarity. His

may indulge in sexual intercourse occasionally, they may

characters

JBAN GIONO
even be said to " fornicate/* but in these indulgences there
anything horripilating

as in Malaparte's descriptions

Never

soldiers abroad.

is

obhged to

a French writer

mannerisms of Lawrence in

book such

as

to the

resort to the

whom

much

he has

village lying in death

few,

in

should have travelled up from Vencc

of Haute-Provence where describing the

plateau

o(ColUne, Giono says

how pitifiiUy

He

way.

the

never

Lady Chatterleys Lover.

Lawrence should have known Giono, with

common, by

is

of American

setting

" an endless waste of blue earth, village after

on

the lavender tableland,

handful of men,

how ineffectual And, crouching amid the grasses,

!

wallowing in the reeds the

hill,

But Lawrence was

like a bull."

then already in the grip of death, able nevertheless to give us The

Man Who Died or The

it

enough breath

in him, as

were, to reject the sickly Christian image of a suffering

Redeemer

Escaped Cock.

and restore the image of

man

just to Hve, just to breathe.

Still

man

in flesh and blood, a

pity he could not have

content

met Giono

of his life. Even the boy Giono would have been

him from some of his errors. Lawrence was forever

in the early days

able to divert
railing
it

gainst the French, though he enjoyed Hving in France,

would seem. He saw only what was

too keen. Giono so rooted in his native

Hfe,

Lawrence in hymns of

himself in his

of art.

that first

**

region,*' so has

hate.

decadent,**

^his

Lawrence so

Both proclaiming the Hfe abundant

wanderlust.

of

soil,

**

what was

sick,

Wherever he went he saw

in the French.

nose was

filled

with

Giono in hymns

Giono has anchored

Just as

he anchored himself in the tradition

He has not suffered because of these restrictions, self-imposed.

On the contrary,

he has flowered. Lawrence jutted out of his world

He wandered over the earth Uke a lost

He exploited the novel to preach the
himself perished miserably. I owe a great

and out of the realm of art.

soul, finding peace

nowhere.

of man, but

resurrection

debt to D. H. Lawrence.

not intended
indications

Saxon,

as

of

These observations and comparisons are

a rejection of the

his limitations.

feel free to stress his faults.

of France.

have said

it

man, they

are offered merely as

Just because I

We have

over and over again.

all

am

also

an Anglo-

us a terrible need

I shall

probably do so

luidl I die.

Vive

la

France

Vive Jean Giono

"3

THE BOOKS IN MY
was jmt

It

from

hbrary

put aside these pages on Jean

came. Yesterday

whom I knew

a literary agent

of individual

that

had more to say but determined

moment

off until the right

the sort

f B

months ago

five

Giono, knowing that

visit

who on

And when he

you.

is

exploitable in you.

does look

at

you he

sees

one aim was to be of help to writers,

is

not you but only what

After remarking, rather asininely,

mentioned Giono's name.

" There's a man you could do something
true,"

He

years ago in Paris.

entering a house goes through your

fingering your books and manuscripts, before looking

first,

at

that his

to hold

had an unexpected

said flady.

showed him Pour

thought,

took the cue and

for, if

what you say

Saluer Melville.

is

explained

Viking seemed to have no desire to publish any more of Giono's

that

books.
" And do

you know why

" he demanded.

told him what they had written me.

" That's not the real reason," he replied, and proceeded to give
me what he " knew " to be the real reason.
I

"

And even

beheve

it,

if

what you say

there remains this

a beautifiil book.

It is

" In
that

it

fact," I

love

**

my

doesn't matter a

to have done.

He

added,

looked

at

is

true," said

book which

" though

I,

want

don't

to see published.

it."

love and admiration for Giono

damn

to

me

know my Giono."
me quizzically and,

what he does or what he

as if to

provoke me,

is
is

such
said

asserted

" There are several Gionos, you know."

knew what he was implying

them

That seemed
that

he was not

he wanted to
period was

to stop

small talk

When
out.

tell

much

this

114

answered simply

in his tracks.

with Giono

as

me, undoubtedly, was

better than the

course,

"I love

Colline appeared

it

his

circles in

was

was

that the

be.

What

Giono of a

certain

Giono. This

is

better

"

the sort of

a perpetual ferment.

as if the

This happened again when

whole world recognized

Que majoie demeure came

probably happened a nimibcr of times. At any

happens, whenever a

moreover,

certain,

he pretended to

Giono of another. The "

have been

which keeps Hterary

man Giono.
It

him

as familiar

Giono would, of

this

but

all."

book wins immediate

rate,

whenever

universal acclaim,

JBAN GIONO
somehow

it is

taken for granted that the

the author.

It is as

Or

it is

perhaps

not.

though

admitted that the

Yet the writer

man would

In their

He

Hves the

his Hfe before

"

first

it

which he

will record in words.

he dreams

work some

"

successfiil

that

life

he Hves

it in

same thing happens sometimes in our

first

Sometimes

retain this original full

upon

the one

That Giono
That, like

not deny

all

is

of

image

we

he has

his

produces he reveals himself

sentence.

He

good
it

one of the

and

side

is

is

is

the

able to

rank injustice

his

think of denying.

bad

side, I

would

happens that with every book he

The

fully.

revelation

always himself and he

is

it

man of many facets I would not

us,

one

love.

In Giono's case

either.

other times

The

register

image

first

a blessing that

it is

image

how much

such moments that ever afterwards, no matter

one which endures.

it.

full

encounter vdth another

the person alters, or reveals his other aspects, this

is

later this

succeeding ones.

all

So strongly does the personality of the other

individual.

This

order to live

authors give such a

no matter what they say

endures, dominates, and often obHterates

inflicted

of

even before the man, paradoxically. The

exists

image of themselves

itself in

a true reflection

is

never have become what he did unless there was in him

the creative germ.

He dreams

book

moment the man did not exist.

man existed but the writer did

until that

is

is

given in every

always giving of himself

rare qualities he possesses,

one which distinguishes

him from a host of lesser writers. Moreover, Hke Picasso, I can well
" Is it necessary that everything I do prove a
imagine him saying
:

masterpiece

"

Of him,

piece " was the creative

as

of Picasso,

act itself

would say

and not a

that the " master-

particular

work which

happened to please a large audience and be accepted

as

the very

body of Christ.
Supposing you have an image of a

by

accident,

you come upon him

man and

then one day, quite

in a strange

mood, fmd him

way you have never beHeved him capable

of Do you reject this unacceptable aspect of the man or do you
incorporate it in a larger picture of him
Once he revealed himself
behaving or speaking in a

you completely, you thought.

Are you at fault or is he ?
to

so

can well imagine a

many

aspects

Now

you

find

man for whom writing is

of himself,

as

him

quite other.

a Hfe's task revealing

he goes along, that he

baffles

and

"5

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

bewilders his readers.

And

the

more

baffled

and bewildered they are

the protean character of his being, the less qualified are they, in

by

opinion, to talk of " masterpieces " or of " revelation."

my

mind open and

been written. That

kill

man

which

is

author

set

would

receptive

But

at least.

wait until the

at least
it is

the nature of

word had

last
little

minds to

off before his time, to arrest his development at that point

most comfortable for one's peace of mind.

himself a problem which

is

Should an

not to the Hking or the under-

what happens ? Why, the classic avowal

" He*s not the writer he used to be " Meaning, always, " he*s not

standing of your little man,

the writer /il?ou/."

As

He

holed,

resurrected and

who

enjoy

interpretation, vdll

in themselves.

The

a comparatively

young man.

and re-dated, pigeonholed and re-pigeon-

will be dated

those

end.

is still

be more ups and downs, from the standpoint of carping

will

critics.

And

Giono

creative writers go,

There

The

re-resurrected

game,

this

who

until

the fmal dead line.

identify

with the

it

of

art

of course undergo many changes themselves

diehards will

make

him

sport of

until the

very

tender idealists will be disillusioned time and again, and

will also find their beloved again

always be on the fence,

if

and

The

again.

skeptics will

not the old one another one, but on the

fence.

Whatever

is

written about a

man Hke Giono

the critic or interpreter than about Giono.

world, Giono goes on and on and on. The

around

his rooted, granulated self

tells

you more about

For, hke the song

of the

perpetually pivots

critic

Like the girouette, he

tells

which

way the wind is blowing but he is not of the v^nnd nor of the airs.
He is like an automobile without spark plugs.
A simple man who does not boast of his opinions but who is
capable of being moved, a simple man who is devoted, loving and
loyal

is

far better able to tell

you about

a writer like

Giono than the

man whose heart is moved, the man whose

withers can still be wrung. Such men are with the writer when he
orders his creation. They do not desert the writer when he moves in
learned

critics.

ways beyond
instructive.

Trust the

their understanding.

Like the very wise, they

Becoming

is

know how

their silence

and

to hold themselves

in abeyance.

" Each day," says Miguel de

ii6

Unamuno, "

beUeve

less

and

less

in

JEAN GIONO
moral

the social question, and in the poHtical question, and in the

question,

and in

all

the other questions that people have invented in

order that they shall not have to face resolutely the only real question
that exists

question,

we

the human question.

all

we

that

not hear

shall

Giono

that

him
that

who

Those

the periphery regard

he

is

but no sense of reaHty.

gift for narrative

writing a legend of his region and not the

to beheve that he

He

and more.

these things

is

is

when he

sister,

He

son and daughter.

only a dreamer.

is

man who

is

never detaches

dreaming.

world of human beings. In his books he speaks

brother,

of nature. If there

suffering

is

Particularly

mother,

as father,

human

does not depict the

family against the background of nature, he makes the

a part

which he

not playing the game. Some

seriously because he is " only a poet." Some admit

himself from the world, even

the

human

faces this

disrepute in

on

are active

Some wish us

story of our time.

is all

who

much of the

In their view he

he has a marvellous

Some beHcve

He

accounts for

It

a renegade.

refuse to take

this

it."

has found himself.

as

not facing

as v^e are

simply making a noise so that

one of the writers of our time

is

question squarely.

him

So long

now doing is

are

human

and punishment,

family

because

it is

of the operation of divine law through nature. The cosmos which

Giono's figures inhabit

is

the irrational elements.

It

fictive characters

strictly

ordered. There

is

room

in

for

it

all

does not give, break or weaken because the

who compose

it

move

sometimes

in contradiction

of or defiance to the laws which govern our everyday world.

Giono's world possesses a reality far
durable than the one
the nature

of

this

This then

would say

to

we

more

understandable, far

other deeper reaHty in his

is

everything that

you

more

accept as world reahty. Tolstoy expressed

that

we

last

would

are living in

work

like to say

an age and under

come what may, we are

And in order to follow it, it is
us to invent a new religion nor to discover

conditions that cannot last and that,

obhged

to choose a new path.

not necessary for

new
life

scientific theories in

or art as a guide.

order to explain the meaning of

all it is useless to turn back

Above

again to some special activity ; it is necessary to adopt one

course alone to free ourselves from the superstitions of false
Christianity and

of state

rule.

Let each one realize that he has

no

right,

nor even the

117

THE BOOKS
f)ossibility,

ead his

IN

MT

LIPI

to organize the

own

life

of others

he should

that

hfe accordijig to the supreme religious law

revealed to him, and as soon as he has done

order will disappear

the order that

this,

now

the present

among

reigns

the so-called Christian nations, the order that has caused

whole world to suffer, that conforms so Uttle to the

of conscience and that renders humanity more
ruler, judge,
miserable every day. Whatever you are
landlord, worker, or tramp, reflect and have pity on your
No matter how clouded your brain has become
soul.
through power, authority and riches, no matter how
maltreated and harassed you are by poverty and humiUation, remember that you possess and manifest, as we all
Why do
do, a divine spirit which now asks clearly
you martyrize younelf and cause suffering to everyone
the

voice

whom

with

who you
is

the being

own

you come

really are,

you

call

shape, and to

in contact

how

Understand, rather,

'

and vulnerable

truly insignificant

you, and which you recognize in your

what

extent,

on

the contrary, the real

immeasurably your spiritual self and having understood this, begin to live each moment to accomplish your

you

is

true mission in Hfe revealed to

the teachings of Christ,

you by

and your

own

a universal

wisdom,

conscience. Put the

of yourself into increasing the emancipation of your

from the illusions of the flesh and into love of your
neighbor, which is one and the same thing. As soon as
you begin to Hve this way you will experience the joyous
feehng of Hberty and well-being. You will be surprised to
find that the same exterior objectives which preoccupied
you and which were far from reaHzation, will no longer
stand in the way of your greatest possible happiness. And
ponder
I know you are unhappy
if you are unhappy
upon what I have stated here. It is not merely imagined
by me but is the result of the reflections and beUefs of the
therefore,
most enhghtened human hearts and spirits
realize that this is the one and only way to free yourself
firom your imhappiness and to discover the greatest possible
best

spirit

good
say to

that Hfe can offer.

my

This then

brothers, before

is

what

woula

like to

die.*

"
Notice that Tolstoy speaks of " the greatest possible happiness
"
and
the greatest possible good." I feel certain that these are the

two

goals

Who,
*

Ii8

which Giono wpuld have humanity

since Maeterlinck has dwelt at

The Law of Love and

the

Law

attain.

any length on

of Y\olencc.

Happiness
this state

of


JBAN ION
being

Who

nowadays of " the

talks

scheme of reaHty. Yes, there

nothing of moment
plished until the

of

talk

place in our

of the poHtical question,

endless talk

is

the social question, the moral question.

To

good is now suspect. They have no

happiness and of the

looked upon

good "

greatest

There

much

is

agitation,

but

being accomplished. Nothing will be accom-

is

human being is regarded as a whole, until he is first

human being and not a pohtical, social or moral

as a

animal.

As

pick up Giono's

again the complete

visit I

made

to his

list

book

last

home

high up near the

ceiling,

now,

And how

at the list as it

number

eloquent are the

man of his

for a

given opposite the

is

How many

titles

alone

Richesses, Fragments d*un

Often, at night,

look up

when

of Giono's world,

go

a look at the

stars,

renewed

him

aflinity

an

garden where the

is

in

it

and

Les

Vraies

Paradis, Presentation

here there

my

in

work

editors,

me

is

have

moments of utter
" would be an injustice

walking about in

he

his garden, stealing

in hand, bracing himself

and pubHc.

critics

that

of his mother

bom

at the

the

when

is

far

In such

away, in a country

Manosque, and between Manosque and Big

which he was

Old World and

spirit

Le Poids

will read in

which abolishes time and

spirit

him so much worked

around

crowd them

also

with

conflicts

He

the

**

does not seem to

Sur there

in

last

to read

still

the contents of these books

meditating on the

called France.

manger

look

constellations, all so intimate a part

wonder about

to Giono. I imagine

is

into the garden for a quiet smoke,

promise myself

peace and serenity, for to

it

have

d'Etoiles,

Dduge, Fragments d'un

Orion and the other

at

not read, which

moments

was

A secret understanding links me to these unknown works.

age.

page of his

title

Solitude de la Pitii^

du Ciel, Naissance de VOdyssie, Le Serpent

for

provender. In a bookcase,

spiritual

work, published by Gallimard.

to scan once

reminded of the

were the books he had written. Even then,

eleven years ago, an astounding

am

during his absence. Entering the house

seemed to be overflowing with

dePan

aware of the profusion of books and records. The place

instantly

again,

Les Ames Fortes

of his published works,

is

is

He

is

in that

not far from the

his father

as a cobbler.

none. That

space.

reigns,

and where

bench

New. But

own. That

still

who

taught

His garden has a wall

one of the

diflerences

between

no wall between Giono's

what draws me to him the openness
there

is

119

THE BOOKS
of

One

his spirit.

MY

IN

LIFE

feels it

moment one

the

One

opens his books.

timibles in drugged, intoxicated, rapt.

Giono
and

gives us the

reality. It is

it. It is

world he Hvcs

French, yes but that

of a certain region of France,

kindred

were

you recognize

spirit

a world of dream, passion

yes,

it

suffice to describe

but that does not define

world and none

distinaly Jean Giono's

It is

in,

would hardly

inmiediately,

other.

you

If

no matter where you

bom or raised, what language you speak, what customs you have

adopted, what tradition

you

A man

follow.

does not have to be

Chinese, nor even a poet, to recognize immediately such

and

Lao-tse

Li Po. In

work what every

Giono's

full-blooded individual ought

to be

" the song of the world." For

is

new book

gives

Songs.**

It

ceaseless.

It

the thrush

inaudible

is

intimate,

contains
it

refrains

the

and

personal,

notes

variations,

the

lark,

of the blessed

it

well

as

as

In addition to this
taste,

smell

The most inanimate objects yield their mysterious vibraThe philosophy behind this symphonic production has no

feel.

tions.

name

soul, to

its

function

Be what thou

Is this

is

to Hberate, to keep open

all

the sluices of the

encourage speculation, adventure and passionate worship.

whispers.

I20

the sobs,

the laughter

contains the seraphic music of the

pandemic music Giono gives the whole gamut of color,

**

nightingale,

contains

it

angehc hosts and the howls of the damned.

and

Song

and

contains the whir of the planets and the almost

and wails of wounded mortal souls

ululations

the "

untrammeled

cosmic,

more

far

is

than

poetic,

of the

once

song, of which each

this

more

far

stirring,

spirits as

sensitive,

recognize at

able to

me

wheeling of the constellations

cries, shrieks

and

endless

more

precious, far

of

it.

are a

French ?

art,

only be

it

to the utmost

" That

is

what

it

VI
INFLUENCES
HAVE already mentioned

can

the books

why I am

doing

this.

One

is

one of the oldest of games

that

titles

list

am

listing allf

There are a number of reasons

enjoy playing games, and

the pursuit game.

have never once seen a

favorite authors.

the

that

Appendix

the

that in

recall ever reading.

better reason

of the books read by any of

would give anything,

for example, to

this is
is

my

know

all^

of those books which Dostoievsky devoured, or PJmbaud.

BuTthere

is

more important reason

still,

and

this

it is

people are

always wondering what were an author's influences, upon what

great writer or writers did he
inspiration,

which ones

model

himself,

presendy to give the line of my descent, in

order

as possible.

shall

" living books," raeaing

by

I shall

at all)

to the authors

of great books.

they

of them, countries

are,

all

reading, but they are as alive for

and behavior

But
that

to

as

come back

am listing

much

must confess

which bad.

are dead.

**

the

**

countries

me

and have

affected

my

list

...

**
;

thought

wish to emphasize the

unable to say which were good for

were to
I

offer

my own

would say

fact

criterion

me

and

of good and bad

those which are

alive

and those

Certain books not only give a sense of Ufe, sustain

less

augment

dead than the Hving,

most aHve of the dead."

who wrote them matters

until

all

have penetrated only through

Ufe, but, like certain rare individuals,

long dead are

me)

are attributed

they were books.

to the

am

with respect to books,

which

few

regard

both good and bad books. With respect tp some

that
If

as if

few

(for

which

shall also include a

most

intend

include a

whom

had

that they

the weight, power, prestige, magic and sorcelry

chronological

as strictly

not writen
this

offered the

and so on.

give specific names and

men and women (some of them

as

who

affected his style most,

little.

books are no more.

To

or, to

Some

Ufe.

put

it

authors

another way,

When these books were written,

They will breathe the flame of life
discuss which

books belong in

this

121

THE BOOKS IN MT LIFI

category, to dispute the reasons pro and con, arc

On

opinion.

We

right, for himself.

he

that

Despite what
to

which

authors,

is

man

of his vitaHty

inspired, that he

have just

it is

in his

own

my

scanning

pleasure to

am

said, there will

repeat,

know who

draw

own

their

have read widely, and

thousand, though
I

perceive,

may

look over

by

be endless speculation

entailed.

Like

on

" true "

is

salt.

all

books one has read,

at least

The few men

a great reader.

whom I have sounded out on the

me by

their repHes.

Twenty

to thirty

a fair average for a cultured individual

I

doubt

if I

have read more than five

list,

which never

grow,

ceases to

often said of writers that "

It is

sayings, this

all is grist

one too must be taken with a

writer needs very Uttle to stimulate him.

cultivating the imagination.

Life itself provides

men he

is,

is

The

fact

given to

abundant material.

Superabundant material. The more one writes the

reads to corroborate, that

am

which the reading of most

of being a writer means that more than other

One

as

well be in error.

my

of these books

late.

my

be able to give

shall

the obvious waste of time

for the mill."

grain of

to

me most. I cannot hope

man interprets an author's

as it is to recall all the

of our time. As for myself,

When

know and

conclusions as to

do not regard myself as

thousand books,

appalled

to

limited way, so will the readers of this book,

list,

extent of their reading, startle

enough

thoroughly aHvc.

is

nevertheless reasonably sure that

half

is

source of a man's

which books, influenced

century hence. Impossible

I

He

The subject is fraught with mystery, and I leave it a

know, however, that this list will give extraordinary
some of my readers, perhaps chiefly to the readers of a

influences.

mystery.

my

in

futile,

best judge.

as to the

to arrest these speculations. Just as each

work

own

his

is

need not agree

inspiration or the degree

^recognize

each

this subject

less

to enjoy one's

books stimu-

own

thoughts

expressed in the multifarious ways of others.

In youth one's appetite, both for
is

uncontrolled.

appetite, there

that
it

must be

there

is

raw experience and

excessive

vital reason for

it.

for books,

hunger, and not mere

It is

bfatantly obvious

way of Ufe docs not offer proper nourishment. If

am certain we would read less, work less, strive less. Wc

our present

did

would not need

existence.

122

Where

substitutes,

This appHcs to

wc would not accept vicarious modes

all

realms

of

food, sex, travel, religion,

INFLUENCES

We get off to a bad start. We travel the broad highway

We have no definite goal or purpose, nor
the fireedom of being without goal or purpose. We are, most of us,
adventure.

with one foot in the grave.

sleepwalkers,

and

we

die without ever opening our eyes.

would be

If people enjoyed deeply everything they read there

no excuse

for talking this

way. But they read

haphazardly, feebly and flickeringly.

lessly,

as

they Hve

If they

aim-

are already

asleep,

then whatever they read only plunges them into a deeper

sleep.

If they are merely- lethargic, they

become worse

If they are idlers, they

man who
fi:om

it

is

wide awake

what

is

And

lethargic.

Only

so on.

the

capable of enjoying a book, of extracting

Such a

is vital.

experience, and, unless

become more

idlers.

am

man

enjoys whatever comes into his

horribly mistaken, makes

no

distinction

between the experiences offered through reading and the manifold

experiences of everyday Ufe.

The man who thoroughly

what

enjoys

he reads or does, or even what he says, or simply what he dreams or

imagines, profits to the

full.

The man who

seeks to profit,

one form of discipline or another, deceives himself

so firmly convinced of this that
for those

from

who

this sort

are about to enter

through

because

It is

am

abhor the issuance of lists of books

life.

The advantages

to be derived

of self-education are even more dubious,

to

my way

of thinking, than the supposed advantages to be obtained from ordinary methods of education. Most of the books given on such Hsts
cannot begin to be understood and appreciated until one has hved

and thought for himself Sooner or

later the

whole

kit

and caboodle

has to be regurgitated.

And now here are

I

names for you.

am aware of and which, through

again and again.*

came within

To

begin with,

the field of

my

Names of those whose

my
let

writings,

me

too.

As

for the dead, they

their seal

on me.

have

influence

testified to

say that everything

which

experience influenced me. Those

do not fmd themselves mentioned should know

would put

knew
I

that

include

who
them

in advance, doubtless, that they

mention them only because

it is

in

order.
First

legend,

of

all

myth,

come
tales

the books of childhood, those dealing with

of imagination,

all

of them saturated with

* See Appendix for reference to authors and books touched

a$ yi^eU 3S tp complete essays on certain ones.

ox\

\n

my

\vritings,

J23

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

mystery, heroism, supematuralism, the marvelous and the impossible,

with crime and horror of all

and

justice

injustice,

and

sorts

all

degrees, with cruelty, with

with magic and prophecy, with perversion,

ignorance, despair, doubt and death. These books affected

being

they formed

my

my way

character,

of looking

my whole
my

at Ufe,

attitude towards woman, towards society, laws, morals, government.

They determined the rhythm of my Ufe. From adolescence on, the

books

me

read, particularly those

only

some

partially.

That

the naked soul.

is,

adored or was enslaved by,

some

my

This perhaps because

become fragmented. Perhaps too because

aflfected

man, some the

affected the

writer,

being had already

the substance of adult

reading cannot possibly affect the whole man, his whole being.

There are exceptions, to be

but they are

sure,

At any

rare.

rate, the

whole province of childhood reading belongs under the sign of

anonymity

Appendix.

those

who

are curious will discover the tides in the

read what other children read.

was not a prodigy, nor

make special demands. I took what was given me and I swallowed it. The reader who has followed me thus far has by this time
gleaned the nature of my reading. The books read in boyhood I have
did

also

touched upon already, signalling such names

of them quite
that

familiar.

Nothing unusual about

Where

commence

the specific influences

is,

as the

writer, the

fiom the time

first

is

dreamed

From

names of authors who influenced

at the

that

me

brink of

man-

too might one

may be regarded
man and as a

as a

two becoming more and more inseparable as time went

manhood on my whole activity revolved about, or

early

was motivated by, the

thought of myself,

fact that F

first

then embryonically, and finally manifesdy,

as a writer.

my memory

my

Boccaccio,

MaeterUnck,
'^^'

and

most

this period, unless

day become " a writer." The names which follow

on.

first

others,

read too much.

hood, that

then

Henty

as

Dumas, Bider Haggard, Sienkiewicz and

foremost,

serves

me

right,

here

is

potentially,

And

genealogical

so, if

line

Petronius,

Rabelais,

Whitman, Emerson, Thoreau,

Romain

Rolland,

Plotinus,

HeracHtus,

Nietzsche,

Dostoievsky (and other Russian writers of the Nineteenth Century),

the ancient Greek dramatists, the Elizabethan dramatists (excluding
Shakespeare), Theodore Dreiser,

James Joyce, Thomas Mann,

124

Knut Hamsun, D. H. Lawrence,

Elie Faure,

Oswald

Spengler, Marcel

INFLUBNC ES
Van Gogh,

Proust,

Carroll, Nijinsky,

everything

read about China,

men who made

the

King James

it

for

was the language of the Bible rather than

it

which

got

and which

first

What were

me

which permitted
character,

approach to

life

power of language,

the brotherhood

wisdom and

life's

humor,

my

of man,

of everything,

oddities

aspects, travel, adventure, discovery,

and black),

"

love,

my

style,

life

understanding, mystery,

of man, the meaning of love, the

sex,

version,

message

the love of

the antiquity and the glory

enjoyment of

**

seek the authors

Broadly these

the purpose of existence, the oneness

love, the

me

which formed

to be influenced,

the pursuit of truth,

itself,

the

my

its

will never shake off.

which made

the subjects

men who

and of course the Bible, the

wrote

especially the

Lewis

Balzac,

Surrealists,

Blaise Cendrars, Jean Giono, Celine,

Zen Buddhism, everything

read on

India, Tibet, Arabia, Africa,

and

and

the Dadaists

Rimbaud,

and

eternality,

self-liberation,

relation

of sex to

eccentricities in

all

prophecy, magic (white

games, confessions, revelations, mysticism, more

art,

particularly the mystics themselves, the varieties

the marvelous in

all

realms and under

of faith and worship,

all aspects,

**

for

there

only

is

the marvelous and nothing but the marvelous."

Have
still

I left

am,

out some items

Fill

them

Even

interested in everything.

in yourself

in politics

was, and

^when regarded

from " the perspective of the bird." But the struggle of the human
being to emancipate himself, that
prison of his
is

why

I fail,

is

why,

in

of

is

who

making, that

me

from

the

the supreme subject. That

my works, I have given so much space to sheer experience

have experienced
figures,

critics

so often

fail

to perceive

it,

men of wisdom, the men

and who give life artists,

powerfully drawn to the

life

to the full

pathfmders, innovators and

And perhapswhy

respect for literature, so

little

to Uberate himself

is,

for

perhaps, to be completely " the writer." Perhaps that

why I am

religious
sorts.

is

Perhaps too, though the

Hfe.

that

own

not say

little

it

that

is

iconoclasts

why

of

have so

all

little

regard for the accredited authors, so

appreciation of the transitory revolutionaries. For

true revolutionaries are the inspirers

and

me

the only

activators, figures like Jesus,

Gautama the Buddha, Akhnaton, Ramakrishna, KrishnaThe yardstick I employ is life how men stand in relation to
Not whether they succeeded in overthrowing a government, a

Lao-tse,

murtihfe.

125

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

social order, a religious

LIFE

form, a moral code, a system of cducaticMi,

how

an economic tyranny. Rather,

what

men

distinguishes the

impose

on man

their authority

to destroy authority.

did they affect

have in mind

on

life itself?

For,

that they did not

is

the contrary, they sought

Their aim and purpose was to open up

life,

make man hungry for Hfe, to exalt life and to refer all questions
back to life. They exhorted man to realize that he had all freedom
to

he was not to concern himself with the

in himself, that

the

world (which

problem, which

said that there

refer to

now. They

a question

at a
as

liberation,

"...

stay

in this fashion.

I shall

with me, these individuals,

at will, as I

when

they did

met them

and inspiring to me.

would

else.

Several times

have

have explained

be even more expHcit

as

do the good books.

When I glance
me as eloquently
The books they left me

a book.

in the flesh.

E.

Flynn,

Mills,

these Hves singular

I

doubt

Emma

that I

have

Goldman,

Burghardt Dubois, Hubert Harrison, Elizabeth Gurley

Jim Larkin, John Cowper Powys, Lou

Cendrars.

known

and

are, then,

Benjamin Fay

was the fusion of

It

made each of

Here they

forgotten a single one

curious assemblage indeed.

figures.

There are

others,

played an important r6le in

book of hfe

for

Jacobs,

Blaise

All but one are, or were,

who without knowing

who helped to open the

of course,

my

me. But the names

always revere, the ones

126

nothing

page of their being, so to speak, they talk to

thought, being and act which

it

fate of

own individual

women who came into my experience,

are their Hves, their thoughts, their deeds.

W.

his

whom I regard as " Hving books."

them

can open them up

of

Hving books

were men and

at various times,
I

is

not his problem) but to solve

for " the

And now

why

is

Hfe,
I

have cited are the ones

feel forever

indebted

to.

I shall

VII
LIVING BOOKS
Lou Jacobs,

one unknown figure,

that

by saying Asmodeus,

book

shelf, in his Httle flat.

up, scanned a page or two, then put

years

now I have kept in

Next

to

it,

on

the

the back of

same

shelf,

merely

recall at will

Sticks,

Curious that a

The book

never read should be the magic touchstone.

was always there on the

it

can

The Devil on Two

or

Several times

picked

down. For almost

it

forty

my head this unread Asmodeus.

was Gil

Bias,

which

never read

cither.

Why do I feel compelled to talk of this unknown man

among

other things, he taught

black, black, black.

a prisoner than a

man

Living then with

my

three-storey house in

Because,

to laugh at misfortune.

No egress. No hope of egress.

serving a
first

life

was more

mistress, the imoffidal janitor

which we shared a

boarder, strictly surveilled

flat

by the

ogress

do or could do, convinced

a pencil

were

who was

who owned

fiiends

and

had no

our

who was my

parents, eating

my

for having surrendered the girl I loved

of

sex, the girouette

utterly lost,

who

who

Lou

Jacobs,

my

Bright Green Wind.

wanted
lines

mistress' son, hiding

first

love

!),

remone
the slave

veered with the sHghtest breeze,

discovered one day

forthwith became

No

on

the floor

my

star

twelve
suspiciontrying

heart out with

(my

man

the house,

talent

corroborate the

of the young man,

to save the Ufe

away from

sufficient to

that I

of the

with a young

without fimds, without work, with no knowledge of what

with

was

sentence in the penitentiary.*

dying of tuberculosis and a trolley conductor

to

It

woe that I made his acquaintance. Everything

during a period of dire

was

me

Guide,

below

my

this

lost,

man

Comforter,

matter what the hour, what the

* " And a night comes when all is over, when so many jaws have closed
upon us that we no longer have the strength to stand, and our meat hangs
upon our bodies as though it had been masticated by every mouth. A
mght comes when man weeps and woman is emptied."
(From Btibti of
Montparnasse by Charles-Louis Philippe.)
127

"

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPI

no matter

occasion,

could laugh and

Death were knocking

if

door,

at the

make me laugh with him.

*'

For

Lou Jacobs
your

all

ills

laughter
I

if

my

his intimate, I

am

had then only a furtive acquaintance with Rabelais,

me

memory

serves

certain.

He knew

known

But Lou Jacobs was

right.

who

all

brought joy

Whenever he

sorrow.

not

" he

redte the lamentations of Job and give

What

("

breath.

man,

is

son of man, that thou

He

that

visitest

thou

me

who had

those

He

say.

remedy

could

in the next

mindful of him

art

him

would
the

and the

")

always appeared to be doing nothing, nothing

door was ever open to any and every one.

once

as

passed Shakespeare's statue in the

Why

"

park he doffed his hat.

well

as

at

The

all.

Conversation began a

Usually he was half-crocked, a state beyond which

instanter.

he never appeared to progress, or degenerate, if you prefer.

His

skin was like parchment, the face seamed with fine wrinkles, the

abundant head of hair always

He might

eyes.
a

day over

oily,

and

tousled,

have been a centenarian, though

over

falling

doubt

if

his

he was

sixty.

His "job " was that of certified public accountant, for which he

was well

paid.

of chess,

if

He seemed

you wished

any other

to have

as

most

erratic, eccentric, briUiant

raillery,

sort.

A game

good a way of passing

as

the

(He played the most unorthodox, the

time

pursuit.

was always thoroughly

no ambition of any

was to him

it,

alive

game

He

imaginable.)

and awake,

jovial, full

slept

little,

of banter and

outwardly mocking but inwardly reverencing, inwardly

adoring and worshipping.

Books

Never

And he was
had read

title I

The

honest.

mentioned but he had read the book.

impression he

worth reading.

everything

who

Bible, or rather

this

man my

ing that "

28

in the least

first real

it

it

" was not

was the

all,

that

he

came

me

of

of Shakespeare and the

Jesus.

aware of

schooling.

As with the

education.

of course

also talked incessantly

of Shakespeare and

Without being

me was

In this he reminded

back to Shakespeare and the Bible.

Frank Harris,

with

left

In talking he always

It

it,

was the

was receiving from

indirect

method of

ancients, his technique consisted in indicatthis,

not

that.

he taught

mc

Whatever

**

it

" was, and

never to approach

it

head

LIVING BOOKS
name or

on, never to

and

last things.

outward. Always the

The

define.

But no

oblique

and no

first

motion

spiral

never the straight

Hnt

method of art

Always firom the center

last.

line,

never

sharp angles, never the impasse or cul-de-sac.

Lou Jacobs

Yes,

He had
He had

begitming to acquire.

of looking upon everything

The

essence

of

life

he read for

he read had permeated his

all

had become one with

entire being,

an open book.

as

ceased reading to discover the secrets of

sheer enjoyment.

**

wisdom I am only

possessed a

the faculty

all

own

too,

story to

had once endeavored to

himself better or
that

more

it

was unique.
Certainly

write.

man had

to hold his tongue,

suspected that he,

no one could

Though he knew

it.

no man enjoyed conversation more than

way of never

Moreover, he had a

it

feelers, to

dangle

Whether

than to inform.

clues, to give hints, to suggest rather

He was

closing a subject.

content to skirmish and reconnoiter, to throw out

one wished

express

His wisdom, however, was the sort

clearly.

not concerned with the imparting of

is

how
he.

and that

tell,

Hfe.

Uterature,"

he once said to me. But then he quickly added that each

his

of

total experience

his

There are not more than a dozen basic themes in

or not, he compelled his Hstener to think for himself

can't recall ever once receiving advice or instruction fi:om

from

yet everything which issued

and instruction ...

how

one knew

if

In Maeterlinck's works,

mouth

his

particularly

to take
a

him,

constituted advice
it

book such

Wisdom

as

and Destinyt there are inspiring references to great figures of the

past (in Ufe

who

and in Uterature)

weathered adversity with noble

Such books are no longer in favor,

equanimity.

We

I fear.

do

not turn for comfort, consolation or renewed courage to authors

Nor

Maeterlinck any longer.

like

name
days.

is

Their

often linked.

Dommage

The

turn to these days

if

truth

we

surrendered to the flux.

to

spiritual

is,

we

really

are in search

Our

An

tuals."

to Ufe
fear

excellent sign

But

are they

if

from

his

nowa-

verities.

We have

Men

are turning

writers, fi:om

**

intellec-

only they were turning firom books

Never was the

of Ufe has replaced the

suspect

hopes, feeble and flickering, seem to

to say,

is

is

have no great authors to

of eternal

be completely centered on poUtical solutions.

away from books, which

whom

Emerson, with

pabulum

fear

fear

of life so rampant. The

of death. Life and death have come

129

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

mean

to

same

the

Yet never did Ufe hold more promise

thing.

than now. Never before in the history of man was the issue so clear

the

issue

between creation and

throw away your books

more an open book than

Life itself was never

cm

Butt

means

all

.it

this present

moment.

you read the Book of Life ?

{**
**

What

you doing

are

am

on

there

the floor

teaching the alphabet to the

"
t

ants.**)

but outrageously noticeable latterly, that

among us are the " old dogs.** They

a strange thing,

It's

by

Yes,

annihilation.

Especially if they obscure the issue.

the only gay, youthful spirits

continue blithely with their

dire forebodings poison the

work of

air.

no matter what

creation

think of certain painters prin-

cipally,

men who

them.

Perhaps their vision of things was never

already have an

many

reading of

against a bleak, sterile,

They

writer's or thinker*s.

way of

morbid view of the

and images, and images

deal in forms

remaining fresh and vivid.

more

looks at the world

I

the

Their signs and symbols are of another order from the

universe.

have a

dimmed by

Perhaps their very choice of profession

books.

them

safeguarded

immense body of work behind

At any

directly.

I feel

that the painter

rate, these veterans

whom

have in mind, these gay old dogs, have a youthful gaze. Whereas

our young in years see with a^dim, blurred vision

with fear and

night iswill this world be snuffed out before

chance to enjoy

even

chat

after, it

it

of

this planet,

their

own

become
sec

And

is

or

its

the

tell

them

own

we have had

dares to

tell

them

to enjoy

that the destruction

is

deeds.

The

with

society.

made up of

sum or

individual has

Few

individuals.

What is an individual

on

now

are able to

Who

is

an

And what is society,

aggregate of the individuals which

remember, more than

Heroes and Hero Worship

130

filled

preservation and everlasting glory, hinges

that society'

no longer
it

no one who

does any one

identified, involuntarily,

constitute
I

is

mattersince the Hfe they crave

really

Nor

individual any longer

if it

there

thoughts, their

any longer

they are

world were snuffed out tomorrow, or the day

if the

would not

imperishable.

is

The thought which haunts them day and

fright.

thirty years

on ray way

ago

to

it

was, reading Carlyle's

and firom work each day.

LIVING BOOKS
was

It

in the elevated train that

moved me

enunciated
the page

thing he had said

that
I

^what

or destiny,

fate,

it

was

would be

suddenly saw myself Hfted

imprisoned me.

awakening

had the conviction

from the

which

circle

of pride and

feeling

of vanity too no doubt, accompanied

way

from those about me.

different

outejected

momentary

vanished, soon gave

resolution,

too famiHar figures

all

but completely. Someno longer rememberhad shaken

was in another world

of my being. Then and there

to the roots

my

One day a thought he

when I looked up from

read him.

had. difficulty recognizing the

surrounding me.

me

so profoundly that

this revelation,

exaltation,

but

soon

it

to a state of quiet acceptance and deep

same time

at the

a stronger sense

of com-

munion, a much more human bond between myself and my neighbor.

Carlyle

"

is

Too much

whom

another writer of
fustian,"

longer worship heroes, or, if

to distinguish those

who

are

much

on

Our pantheon

and reverenced.

use of the

for

a day.

may

word,

it is

Lindbergh,

We

have no

be placed, adored

the daily rag,

is

we no

Besides,

a level with ourselves.

permanent pantheon in which our heroes

nowadays.

said

is

fuHginous.

we do make

was a tremendous hero

for example,

not

Too

no doubt.

which

is

erected

and destroyed from day to day.

One of the reasons why so few of us ever act, instead of reacting,

because we are continually stifling our deepest impulses. I can
illustrate this thought by choosing, for example, the way in which
is

most of us
thought,
is

read.

we

leading to

Time and

If

it is

race through
;

we want

book which

We

it.

excites

and stimulates us to

cannot wait to

know what

it

to grasp, to possess, the hidden message.

we

again, in such books,

stumble on a phrase, a passage,

sometimes a whole chapter, so stimulating and provocative that

we

scarcely understand

mind with thoughts and

we

what we

of our own.

How

is

our

seldom do

interrupt the reading in order to surrender ourselves to the

luxury of our

own

thoughts

thoughts, pretending that

fmished the book.

and wiser
if

are reading, so charged

associations

we

it

would

proceeded

instead of a

few

We

we

No, wc

stifle

will return to

and suppress our

them when we have

never do, of course.

How much

better

how much more instructive and enriching,

snail's pace
What matter if it took a year,

be,

at a

days, to fmish the

book

131

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

" But
"

haven't time to read books that

have other things to do.

Precisely.

words

way

**

have duties and

will be objected.

it

responsibilities."

Whoever speaks thus is the very one for whom these

Whoever fears to neglect his duties by reading

are intended.

and thoughtfully, by cultivating

leisurely

own

his

neglect his duties anyway, and for worse reasons.

thoughts, will

Perhaps

intended that you lose your job, your wife, your home.

book can

reading of a

your

had much

meaning

If you

had

make you

so deeply as to

was

If the

forget

then those responsibilities could not have

responsibilities,

sibihties.

you

stir

it

for

Then you had higher respon-

you.

your

trusted

own

you would

inner promptings

have followed through to firmer ground, to vantage ground.

But you were

there

Enter by

and abandoned.

door

this

You

'*

might whisper

afraid a voice
!

"

You were

Turn here

thought of security instead of

This

is

merely an example of what

Extend

in reading a book.

which

it

reads a

constantly offers and

life

book

is

moment

to a

the

new

may

happen, or not happen,

it is

why men

easy to see

way one

reads hfe. Maeterlinck,

even space

For him the world

women.

is

itself,

But

as

let

me

get back to

my

no death

there

me

"...

got

was something in

of both these men.

detected beneath his gaiety and bright insouciance a hint

of the sombre and the

tragic.

He was

never talked about himself

four in the afternoon

his feet

is

" bright green wind

man,

no one knew much about, who appeared

who

There

barriers.

which reminded

Jacobs' character
I

men and

A moment of time is as rich and complete as ten thousand

on Maeterlinck and Carlyle because

Perhaps

whom I referred

he does about

Truly, a luxurious kind of thinking

years.

not

a continuous, interactive, inter-

changing whole. There are no walls or

anywhere.

fail

The way one

ago, writes as profoundly and engagingly about

insects, flowers, stars,

and

life,

to the multitudinous opportunities

only to become heroes but even plain individuals.

Lou

new

of adventure and exploration.

fields

off

Knock

of being deserted

afraid

would

lead

When

no one on God's

him

before he arrived

must

to have

he

say,

no

left his office at

earth could predict

home

whom

intimates,

for dinner

where

Usually

he stopped off at a bar or two, where he might have regaled himself

by conversing with
133

jockey, a prizefighter, or a broken-down

LIVING BOOKS
He was

pimp.

more

certainly

in his element with such people

dian with the more respectable members of society.

down

he would wander

to the fish market

and

Sometimes

lose himself in

contemplation of the creatures of the deep, not forgetting however

to bring

home an

whatever

else pleased his fancy.

assortment of oysters, clams, shrimps, eels or

hand bookshop, not so much

Or he might wander

to find a rare old

some old crony of a bookdealer,

into a second-

book

as to talk to

for he loved the talk

of books

even more than books themselves. But no matter with what

firesh

was charged, when you encountered him

experiences he

after

dinner he was always free, ready to take any stance, and open to

any suggestion.

It

was

in the evening

when

upon

the passing show.

to be of equal

to be

ill,

now,

interest to

him

bad mood.

in a

him.

never

way he played
me more than he. To
player.

have

lost

it.

Never did an opponent

chess.

be

knew him

He might just

but never would anyone have suspected

good

Usually,

window, gazing down

As with Whitman, everything seemed

spoke of the

intimidate

always saw him.

sitting at the

and absorbing

never saw

his last cent,

him

entered, I found

sure, I

Probably not even

was not

then, nor

good

as

as

am

Napoleon.

When, for instance, Marcel Duchamp once invited me to play a

game with him, I forgot everything I knew about the game because
of my imholy respect for his knowledge of it. With Lou Jacobs
it

was wone.

could never arrive

What
Would you

knowledge of the game.

"

utter nonchalance.

two rooks or

a knight

any old

it

was never

fashion, as
that

like

me

me

with him was

He

his
his

you a queen or

to give

**

and two bishops

never uttered these

manner.

He would open

though out of contempt for

my abiHty, though

words but they were implied by

in

any conclusions about

at

defeated

his

No, he did

he had contempt for no one.

it

probably merely to enjoy himself, to see what Hberties he could

take, to see

no

how

diflference to

he could stretch a point.

far

him whether he were winning

It

seemed to make

or losing the

game

he played with the ease and assurance of a wizard, enjoying the

false

moves

possibly

as

well

mean

to a

as the briUiant ones.

man Uke him

games, or a hundred
to be saying.

**

Come

"

I'll

on,

be playing

let's

Besides,

to lose a

Make

it

chess, or ten

in paradise," he

it

have fun

what could

game of

seemed

a bold move, a

133

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

"

Of

grew.

move

rash

cautious

more rashly he played the more

him of being a genius. And was he

course the
suspected

me

not a genius to thus bewilder and confuse

The way he played chess was the way he played the game of
hfe. Only the " old dogs " can do it. Lao-tse was one of these gay
old dogs.
Sometimes, when the image of Lao-tse seated on the
back of a water buffalo crosses

my

when

mind,

think of that

wisdom so
Lou Jacobs sitting before me at
the chessboard. Ready to play the game anyway you liked. Ready
to rejoice over his ignorance or to beam with pleasure at his own
tomfoolery. Never mahdous, never petty, never envious, never
of

steady, patient, kindly, penetrating grin

and benevolent,

fluid

jealous.

he was to you.

Always

star.

the picture, yet the farther he retreated the

from Shakespeare or from

All those sayings

which he sprinkled

his talk,

were they than the weightiest sermon

tive

dog

great comforter, yet remote as the

the Bible with

that

think of

bowing himself out of

closer

his,

how much more

He never Hfted

make

for emphasis, never raised his voice to

a point

instruc-

a finger

everything

of moment was expressed by the laughing wrinkles which cracked

his

when he

parched face

spoke.

The sound of

the " ancient ones " could reproduce.

tuned in to our earthly vibrations.

It

morahty,

me

Let

all

splinters

and

pretense and

him

leave

by

as

cracked with wrinkles, his

his face

me

mustache moist

with whisky,

glass, his

fool,

the

that

artfiil

anonymous one.

He was

together.

134

the

And he was

Hail, bright spirit

And now
figure.

know. He was the

teacher,

This

Let

me

think of

eyes bright as beads,

his breath divinely perfimied

with garhc, om'on, leek and alcohol.

of any time

hell.

out of an evening, a nightcap in his

hand, the ice faintly dnlding in the

his

own unimpeded

artifice.

there,

he stood bowing

its

shatters all learning, all seriousness, all

laughter echoing through the chandeUers of

him

great

not of

this

time nor

perfect misfit, the contented

comforter,

the

mysteriously

not any one of these alone but

What

book of

life

you were

to speak of another " Hving book," this one a

man

is

still

only

high, as if

was the laughter of the gods,

It

the laughter which heals, which, sustained

wisdom of hfe,

his laughter

came from on

alive,

all
!

knoum

thank the Lord, and Uving a

rich,

LIVING BOOKS
peaceful

was only a few years

It

Ufc that

encountered

one of his

after

New

in

done

It

least.

was a

a long-deferred

should have written twenty

letter I

Ufe.

met

him

appreciation, to shake his

between my legs.

whose books

attended frequently,

just once in the flesh.

then possessed to go up to

few words of

word he
I

whereabouts through

would have been a much richer man today

from " Prester John " is something

devoured hungrily,

tail

my

met him

For, to get a letter

so.

This man, whose lectures

his

upon an impulse and wrote him

of an event in one's

courage

lecturer.

Labour Temple, on Second Avenue

lectures at the

of homage.

years ago at
I

" Prester John."

disappeared out of

famous author and

few months ago, having discovered

letter

Lou Jacobs

after

this

mean John Cnwpcr Powys,

his Autobiography,*

York.

a fiiend, I acted

had

comer of Wales.

in a

life

he dubs himself in

or, as

It

took

after the lecture

hand and then

the

all

and say
with

flee

had an unholy veneration for the man. Every

uttered seemed to

go

straight to the

mark. All the authors

was then passionate about were the authors he was writing and

He was

lecturing about.

Now

that I

regularly,

like

an oracle to me.

now

have found him again,

my

had recovered

as if I

it is

that

youth.

hear from

He

is

still

him
*'

the

master " to me. His words, even today, have the power of bewitch-

At

ing me.

this

very

moment

am

deep in

his Autobiography, a

most nourishing, stimulating book of 652 close-packed pages.

It is

the sort of biography

sincere,

illuminating
one's

all

!)

as

" If

life.

dare to put
their

revel in, being utterly frank, truthftil,

all

down

the persons

with humor.

Powys

(most

wrote autobiographies would

it

much

would be

of public

actions," says

greater

them

boon than

the author.

has the faculty of telling of his misfortunes

Like Celine, he can speak of himself in the most

derogatory terms,
a degenerate,

who

the things that in their Hfe have caused

testy justifications

Like Celine,

trivia

well as the major events, or turning points, in

most intense misery,

these

and containing a superabundant wealth of

call

even a

himself a fool, a clown, a weakling, a coward,

**

sub-human"

* Published by Johii Lane,

being, without in the least

The Bodley Head, London,

1934.

135

THE BOOKS IN MT LIFE

HiminkKing
not so
It is

His book

his Stature.

much through

of many, many, that

man

reveal something of the

one

is

"

something in
thing

book

in his sixtieth year that the

passages, out

Here

^no

substance

What

is it

Yes,

life itself

than

of life-wisdom, revealed

we

all lose as

in Ufe,

it is

There arc two

written.

mean

what we think of

as

but

'

deeper

of a more precious

we grow

as

inclined to think that to a quite unusual extent

retained to

my

sixtieth year the attitude

I

of

am tempted to hold

my

the

the wiser

if the

less

human

my

my

in

that the

stand

more

on

this

mature Hfe will

after

the time

was

During the

forty.

my

to evoke and to arrange

my

in

favorite

what

find out

books

first

half I struggled desperately

what

feelings according to

but during the second half

admired

struggled to

my real feelings were and to refine upon them and to

balance thcij^ and to harmonize them, according to

no

one's

method

my ow^."

but

But

to get back to the

man

know^firom

the lecture platform.

was John Cowper Powys, descendant of the poet Cowper, son of

an English clergyman, with Welsh blood in

his veins

and magic which

who

me
his

invests all the Gaelic spirits,

first

and the

fire

enlightened

about the horrors and sublimities connected with the House of

Atreus.

gown,

remember most

vividly the

closed his eyes and covered

launching into one of those inspired

way he wrapped

sensational, the expression perhaps

(He

is,

flights

of eloquence which

he himself points out.

The

workS^ the
often

oftener

I listened

less critical I

felt as if he

of an over-dramatic temperament.

He

is

rather a kind

to him, however, the

became. Leaving the

had put a spell upon me.

this

of Spenglerian

more

read his

hall after his lectures,

A wondrous spell it was,

too. For, aside firom the celebrated experience with

136

left

pose and gestures

of course, an aaor, John Cowper Powys, but not on

stage, as

aaor.)

himself in

them with one hand, before

me diz2y and speechless. At the time I thought his

have

The other runs as follows " My whole life can be divided

two halves the first up to the time I was forty and the second

be."

It

older.
I

boyhood

early

view

obstinately I exploit this childishness and take

childishness

It is

much

it is

it is

Hfe

get older

Now I am

and such being the case

me.

particularly precious to

is

we

is

should like to quote, which

that

that

not exactly deeper

is full

big incidents as Uttle ones.

Emma Goldman

LIVING BOOKS
in San Diego,

was

it

with the Hving

my first intimate experience, my first real contact,

of those few

spirit

raved about.

who

rare beings

visit this earth.

had his own select luminaries whom he

use the word " raved " advisedly. I had never before

Powys, needless to
I

say,

heard any one rave in public, particularly about authors, thinkers,

Emma

philosophers.

Goldman, equally

on

inspired

the platform,

and often Sibylline in utterance, gave nevertheless the impression of

radiating

from an

she was, the

with the
soul.

fire

Warm

intellectual center.

and emotional though

Powys fulminated

she gave off was an electrical one.

fire

and smoke of the

was

Literature

for

him

which

soul, or the depths

manna from

like

cradle the

He

above.

pierced

the veil time and again. For nourishment he gave us wounds, and

the scars have never healed.

remember

rightly,

mention

now

Fatidical, if I

Why I should

it

was one of his

don*t

know,

favorite adjectives.

unless

it

was charged

with mysterious sunken associations which once had tremendous

significance for

me. At any

blood was saturated with

rate, his

myths and legends, with memories of magical

exploits.
Jeffers,

was

racial

and superhuman

feats

own Robinson
me the impression of confronting a being whose ancestry

His hawk-like features, reminiscent of our

gave

more

different than ours, older,

more pagan than our

eminently

at

home

obscure,

historical forbears.

more pagan, much

To me

he seemed pre-

in the Mediterranean world, that

is

the pre-

Mediterranean world of Atlantis. In short, he was " in the tradition."

Lawrence would have said of him that he was an " aristocrat of the
spirit."

That

is

why, probably, he

of the few men of culture

" democratic "

What he had

democratic

in

have

my memory

could also be called

Whitman's

in

conmion with

stands out in

known who

sense

us inferior beings

was

one

of the word.

was

a superlative

regard for the rights and privileges of the individual. All

were of

as

vital

ques-

broad yet passionate

curiosity which enabled him to wrest from '* dead " epochs and
" dead " letters the universal human qualities which the scholar
tions

and pedant

interest to

lose sight

him.

of To

sit

It

at the feet

this

of a Hving man, a contem-

porary,

whose thoughts,

spirit to

those of the glorious figures of the past was a great privilege.

could visualize

this

feelings

and emanations were kindred in

representative

of ours discoursing ably and

familiarly with such spirits as Pythagoras, Socrates, or Abdlard

137

THEBOOKSINMYLIFB
I

could never thus visualize John Dewey, for example, or Bertrand

Russell.

could appreciate and respect the

of this mind,

intricacies

am incapable of when it comes to Whitehead or

Ouspensky. My own limitotions, undoubtedly. But, there are men
who convince me in a few brief moments of their roundedness

something

know no

word

better

to describe that quality

embraces, sums up, and epitomizes

John Cowper Powys was

He was

an

**

it

*'

in us.

He illumined whatwhich nourish

to the central fires

interpreter

beHeve

human

(or poet) in the highest

of the word.

sense

There are other more gifted

perhaps,

more profound,

their aspirations

which Powys

takes his stance

"

which

is

Power

that

more

at,

there

all

of Hfe.

in

there

is.

We

it

up one

refuses to practice cruelty, a

Communist, nor

Democratic, nor Nazi, a Power not of this world

inspiring the individual soul with the

are in

And from among

other levels there rises

terrible because

neither CapitaUst, nor

is

glancing

resist

not

levels

powers that spring from these

the

nor

human world

so revelatory of the inner, essential

The astronomical world

all

brilliant

On the closing page

his being.

could not

I
is

touch with other dimensions, other

Power,

our time, more

thoroughly

this

and has

of the Autobiography, which

Powys

men of

possibly, but neither their proportions

conform with

stands this paragraph

the

which

truly

is

rounded individual.

ever he touched, always relating

the cosmos itself

that

all

at all,

wisdom of the

Fascist,

nor

but capable of

serpent and the

harmlessness of the dove."

not

It is

years
as

weU

It is

me

at all surprising to

to discover that in the declining

of his Hfe Powys has found time to give us a book on Rabelais

book on Dostoievsky, two

as a

an unusual interpreter of the

balance

two such

difficult for

me

diverse beings. In the

to think

Dostoievsky, both of

more mature than

eternal

youth of the

moment, but

of the human

poles

human

spirit

whom

these
spirit.

I still

two

whole realm of Hterature

worship.

none

it is

No

writers could be

more eloquently

the

should think of it at

this

reveal

Curious that

doubt that Rimbaud, the very symbol of youth, ever

and anomalous

features

of the

extended means of communication.

138

spirit.

can weigh and

of two greater extremes than Rabelais and

heard of his contemporary, Dostoievsky. This

terious

who

is

one of the mys-

modem age which boasts of its

It is

in the Nineteenth

Century

LIVING BOOKS
particularly, this century so rich in

individualistic figures, that

great figure did not

confirm

we

know of the

this fact for himself. It is

Rabelais, a

men of

man of the

demonic, prophetic and extremely

are often astounded to learn that

other's existence.

one

Let the reader

undeniable and of vast significance.

Renaissance,

the Middle Ages, despite

knew
all

The

his contemporaries.

imagined inconveniences,

communicated with one another and paid attendance upon one another.

The world of

learning then

which were durable and

formed a huge web, the filaments of

electric.

Our

writers, the

men who

should

be expressing and shaping world trends, give the impression of

being incommunicado. Their significance, their influence, at any
is

The men of intellect,

virtually nil.

are stranded

pound

on

artists

rate,

of today,

a reef which each successive breaker threatens to

into annihilation.

John Cowper Powys belongs

He

extinguished.

cataclysms

to that breed

who

never

is

which rock the world, always find themselves

constitutes the warrant

there are

of man which

belongs to the chosen few, who, despite the

The covenant which he

Ark.

the writers, the

and guaranty of

have discovered

with

established

this secret

his

his survival.
!

The

in the

fellowmen

How

few

secret, shall I say,

of incorporating oneself in the living spirit of the universe. I have

referred to him as " a Uving book." What is that but to say he is all
flame,

all spirit

The book which comes aUve

is

the

book which

has

been penetrated through and through by the devouring heart. Until

it is

kindled

birth a

book

by a
is

spirit as

dead to

flamingly alive as the one which gave

us.

Words

it

divested of their magic are but

dead hieroglyphs. Lives devoid of quest, enthusiasm, of give and

and barren as dead letters. To encounter a

man whom we can call a living book is to arrive at the very fount of
creation. He makes us witoess of the consuming fire which rages
take, are as meaningless

throughout the universe entire and which gives not warmth alone

nor enlightenment, but enduring

vision,

enduring strength, enduring

courage.

139

VIII
THE DAYS OF MY LIFE
I

HAVE

my

from

just received

friend

Lawrence Powell the two

volumes of Rider Haggard's autobiography,* a work

awaiting with the greatest impatience.

have been

no more than unwrapped

the volumes, hurriedly scanned the table of contents,

when

I sat

down with

on

King

feverish expectancy to read Chapter

Ten

Solomons Mines and She.

During the few weeks which have elapsed

my

" romance."
I

since reading She

thoughts have never ceased to revolve about the genesis of this

am

Now

that I

remember

that

have the author's

Here

hterally astounded.

is

what he

when I sat down

own words

says

before

me

to the task

my ideas as

development were of the vaguest. The only clear

notion that I had in my head was that of an immortal
woman inspired by an immortal love. All the rest shaped
to

its

round this figure. And it came it came

poor aching hand could set it down.

itself

my

faster

tnan

This is virtually all he has to say about the conception of this

remarkable work. " The whole romance," he states, ** was completed
in a Httle over six weeks.

Moreover,

it

manuscript carries but few corrections.

at white heat,

was never

rewritten,

The

that

fact

is

it

and the

was written

almost without rest, and that is the best way to compose."

But perhaps

should add the following, which

surprise for the lovers

Well do

of this extraordinary

I recall

of my

tale

may

contain a

taking the completed manuscript to the

Mr. A. P. Watt, and throwing

There is what I shall be
on the table with the remark
remembered by.' Well do I recall also visiting Mr. Watt
at his office, which was then at 2 Paternoster Square, and
finding him out. As the business was urgent, and I did
office

literary agent,

it

* The Days of My Life,

Longmans, Green & Co.,

140

An

Autobiography, by Sir H. Rider Haggard

Ltd.,

London, 1926.


"the days op my lipb
not wish to have to return, I sat down at his table, asked
for some fookcap, and in the hour or two that I had to
wait wrote the scene of the destruction of She in the Fire
of Life. This, however, was of course a little while
it may have been a few days
^before I deUvered the

manuscript.
It

was twenty years

later,

" the time that

Haggard points out

that

had always meant to elapse"

The Return

As

was

of She,

for the

title,

written.

She, so evocative, so utterly unforgettable, here

the origin of it, in his

the sequel called Ayesha, or

own words

**
:

She, if I

remember

taken from a certain rag doll, so named, which a nurse at

aright,

is

was

Bradenham

used to bring out of some dark recess in order to terrify those of my

brothers and

sisters

who were

in her charge.**

Could anything be more disappointing, or more

same time, than

these bald,

are concerned

suppose they are

run

down

the " facts

'*

meagre

facts

classic.

thrilling, at

the

Where imaginative works

If time permits, I intend to

about other great works of the imagination.

Meanwhile, and particularly because

been a revival of

interest in

am

informed that there has

Rider Haggard*s works,

pertinent to quote a letter written to the author

than Walter Besant. Here

it is

by no

less

think

it

a person

12,

Gay ton

Crescent,

Hampstead
January

My

2, 1887.

dear Haggard,

While I am under the spell of * Ayesha,* * which I have

only just finished, I must write to congratulate you upon
a work which most certainly puts you at the head a long
way ahead of all contemporary imaginative writers.
If fiction is best cultivated in the field of pure invention
then you are certainly the furst of modem novelists.

Solomons Mines is left far behind. It is not only the central

conception that is so splendid in its audacity, but it is your
logical

and

pitiless

working out of the whole thing

in

its

me

with astonishment.
I do not know what the critics will say about it. Probablv
they will not read more than they can help and then will
let you off with a few general expressions. If the critic is
a woman she will put down this book with the remark
inevitable details that strikes

* Meaning She.

141

THB BOOKS IN MY LIFE

it is impossible
almost
towards the marvellous.

that

all

women

have

this feeling

Whatever else you do, you will have She always behind
you for purposes of odious comparison. And whatever
critics say the book is bound to be a magnificent success.
Also it will produce a crop of imitators. And all the Httle
conventional storytellers will be jogged out of their grooves
imtil they find new ones

The book was indeed

a great success, as the reports

his publisher testify,

not to speak of the

the author firom

parts

known

all

was

it

pirated

of sales firom

which poured

on

in

of the world, some of them from well-

figures in the literary world.

America

letters

by

Haggard himself says

that

**

in

the hundred thousand."

She was written in his

some time between

thirtieth year,

the

beginning of February, 1886, and the i8th of March, that same year.

He

began

it

about a month

after finishing Je55.

creative period, as the following indicates

It

was

a remarkable

It would seem, therefore, that between January, 1885,

and March 18, 1886, vsrith my own hand, and unassisted
by any secretary, I wrote King Solomons Mines, Allan
Quatemiain, Jess and She. Also I followed my own profession, spending many hours of each day studying in
chamben, or in Court, where I had some devilling practice,
carried on my usual correspondence, and attended to the
affairs of a man with a young family and a certain landed

estate.

As I have often
the thousands

bitterly

of letters

complained about the burden of answering

receive, I think the following observations

by Haggard may not be without

interest

**

to

all

and sundry "

A Uttle later on the work grew even harder, for to it was

toil of an enormous correspondence hurled at
every kind of person from all over the earth. If
judge by those which remain marked with a letter

added the

me by
I

may

for

to

all

seem to have done my best to reply

of them, even down to the
autograph hunter, a task which must have taken up a
good part of every day, and this in addition to all my
other work. No wonder that my health began to give out
at last, goaded as I was at that period of my life by constant
and venomous attacks-

143

answered,*

these scribes, hundreds

"the days of my life"

where

In The Rosy Crucifixion,

my first firiend,

with Stanley,

my

dwell at length on

relations

and usually mocking

there are frequent

of romances. It was nothing less than a

good " romance " which Stanley always hoped to write one day.
references to Stanley's love

At

point in time

this

Pole
I

am

better able to understand

Then

his heart-felt desire.

don't seem able to recall any discussion with

do remember

Between

Corelli.

we

that

the ages of ten and

must have been altogether negUgible.

The Wild Ass* Skin

European

doubt

we

this

is

all

and

Loti,

To me

unreal.

the

word was

soon

other

after

To

earnest.

be honest,

meant by

Stanley

with claptrap, with

associated

*'

never suspected the part that

of books

Anatole France, Joseph

and in

talk books,

discussion "

**

was when Stanley discovered

of

first

Pierre

as

began to

It

him about BJder

now and then of

eighteen we saw almost

then imderstood clearly what

if I

"romances."
that

such

writers,

Conrad, that
I

another

spoke

nothing of each other, and before that the

Balzac

as

of romantic nonsense.

full

Haggard, though

Marie

and appreciate

merely looked upon him

all

reaUty " played in

realm of pure imagination.

There

most

is

Haggard

interesting

describes at

some

dream,

length.

a recurrent one,

ends thus

It

which Rider

myself, younger than I am now, wearing

of white garments and bending over the desk
at work, with papers spread before me.
At the sight a
kind of terror seizes me lest this fair place should be but a

a:^I scci.

some

sort

payment

scented purgatory where, in

doomed

write fiction for ever

to

At what do I work
who, shining steadily, stands
*

You

A world
is,

as

**

here

voices the

at

my side

or the world, what difference does

God

worlds one, and in

role, for

am

ask, alarmed,

WiUiani James

Death, that

'

sins,

of the guide,
and shows me all.
write the history of a world* (or was it othe
I am not sure), is the answer
' e

world

my

for

and a day

hints in

liis

it

make

The

divine.

that in another life the subject

to be not fiction but history ("

point

The imagination makes of

world of ReaHty man plays the

man and God are one and all is

hope

Introduction to Fechner's Life After

has a history."
this

which

all

central

When Haggard

toil may prove

when he adds that

of his

love "),

143

THEBOOKSINMYLIFB
" in

the worlds above us there

all

much good work to

(and

subject for a writer

man
is

is

must be much history

do)," he

is

saying,

feel,

the endless story of creation.

is

bound up with

the history of

to record

that the proper

The

history of

God, and the history of God

the revelation of the eternal mystery of creation.

"I think

am

ever written a really

upon

first-class

the utterly alien

human

Haggard,

right," says

life

**

no one has

in saying that

romance dwelling

solely, for

example,

of another world or planet with which

beings cannot possibly have any touch."

True or

not,

it

is

nevertheless indisputable that certain authors

have made such use of the imagination

our world, seem incredible. Perhaps

worlds in order to grasp the

understand

its

as to

it is

make

the reaUties of this,

not necessary to

essentia] truths

visit distant

of the universe, or to

order and fimctioning. Books which do not belong

books which do not command " the grand style,"

to great hterature,

often bring us closer to the mystery of

fimdamental experience of man,

nature, in quite another

common

speak of this

way from

of

that

his

They treat of the

" unalterable " human

life.

of the

classical writers.

They

ftmd which binds us not only to one another

but to God. They speak of man as an integral part of the universe

and not as a " sport of creation." They speak of man as though to

him

alone

it

were given to discover the Creator. They link man's

of all creation ; they do not make him a

victim of fate or an " object of redemption." In glorifying man they

destiny with the destiny

glorify the
as I

whole universe. They may not speak in the grand manner,

have just

said.

They are

less

interested in language than in subject

more interested in ideas than in the thoughts which clothe

them. As a consequence, they often appear to be poor writers, they
lend themselves to ridicule and caricature. Nothing is easier to make
matter,

sport of than the yearning for the sublime.

yearning

is

masked or concealed

aware of what he seeks or what he

Often, be

noted, this

it

often the author himself

is

not

states in veiled fashion.

What is the subject matter of these oft despised books Briefly,

web of life and death the pursuit of identity through the
i

the

drama of

identification

indescribable visions

the terrors of initiation

the road to acceptance

the creature world and the transformation of Nature

loss

144

the lure of

the redemption of

of memory, in God. Into the texture of such books

is

the final

woven

all

"THB days op my IIPB

thac

is

symbolic and everlastingnot

between them

and planets but the deeps

stars

not other worlds and their possibly fantastic in-

them

habitants but the ladders that reach to

but ever unfolding

not laws and principles

of creation and the

circles

hierarchies

which

constitute them.

As

to the

drama which informs

with the individual versus

of bread," nor has

good and

evil.

it

these works, it has nothing to do

nothing to do with the " conquest

even ultimately to do with the

It has to

freedom or even what

is

have in mind

meant by

In these works the

cal substance.

if

plane,

"

man

No

man had

known

ever

drama begins only when man

one which may be

is

at last able to

look inward

longer looking at Ufe from the world

be the victim of chance or circumstance

ceases to

said

the sound and fury of histori-

all

Outward bound, man

with grace and certitude.

between

Here truth and freedom are

it.

voluntarily opens his eyes. This act, the sole

to have heroic significance, displaces

conflict

For not a line could have

do with freedom.

men

been written by the

synonymous.

society,

he

"to follow his vision, to become one with the imagination.

From this moment on he begins to travel all previous voyages
elects

were but circumnavigation.

The names of these precious books ?
I will answer you in the words of Gurdjieff
pensky

you would

already

This statement

is

know what you

to read.

It

proves

to me,

number of times,

books.

As

are looking for

between books and

at

any

rate

Ufe,

now."*

that that

is

It tells

life.

something

to wit, that the reading

of corroboration, and

have reiterated

of books

the final discovery

It

one how

is

for the joy

we make

about

a procedure which never endsthat

for true reading

can be done with anything

hoof, the eyes of a child

mien of a

the

given by Ous-

one to be pondered over again and again.

reveals the true connection

as

" If you understood everything you have read in your

a blade

when

real warrior, the

composure graven on the

statue

of

grass, a flower, a horse's

smitten v^th

form of

wonder or

ecstasy,

a pyramid, or the serene

of every Buddha. If the questioning

not dead, if the sense of wonder

not atrophied, if there

faculty

is

be

hunger and not mere appetite or craving, one cannot help

real

is

* In Search of the Miraculous, by P. D. Ouspensky ; Harcourt, Brace

New York, 1949. Routledge & Co., Ltd., London.

& Co.,

Inc.,

145

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

but read

as

he runs. The \^^ole universe must then become an open

book.
This joyous reading of life or books does not imply the abatement

of the

On

critical faculty.

the contrary.

To make

full

surrender to

author or Author impHes the exaltation of the critical faculty. In

railing against the use of the word " constructive " in connection

with Hterary critidsm, Powys writes thus

How, in the name of the

that word * constructive
mystery of genius, can criticism be anything else than an
an idolatry, a worship, a metamorphosis, a love affair !*
*

Ever and again the moving finger points to the inmost

warning but in love.

The handwriting on

mysterious nor menacing to the one

fall

away, and with them our

wall to give

way is

the wall

who
and

fears

at

all.

walls, deciphers all scripts, transforms all

from without,

and joy

is

the

it

sheds Ught.

Walls
last

The

inner eye pierces all

" messages." It is not a

does not receive

It

light and joy.

world opened up, revealed

it.

But the

Who reads not

in.

reading or appraising eye, but an informing eye.

light

not in

neither

is

can interpret

reluctances.

which hems the ego

with the eyes of the Self reads not

self,

the wall

for

what

Through Hght
it is

inefifable

beauty, imending creation.

Visions

New
146

and Reuisions, by John

York, 191 5.

Cowpcr Powys

G. Arnold Shaw,

IX
KRISHNAMURTI
the world has never known her greatest
know their Hves and works we might indeed
of God on eardi."

Someone

has said that

men."

we

If

could

have " a biography

**

Beside the inspired writings, of which there

creations

heroes

of the poets seem

(who

pale.

is

come

First

incarnate the myth), then the seers

then the poets. The concern of the poet

and magnificence of the ever reviving

is

an abundance, the

the gods, then the

and prophets, and

to restore the splendor

The poet

past.

senses almost

beyond endurance the enormous deprivation which afflicts mankind.

For him " the magic of words " convey something which is totally
lost to the

which he

ordinary individual. Ever a prisoner of the realm from

springs, his province

explores and
lity

is

one which the ordinary

man

never

from which he seems debarred by birth. The immorta-

which is reserved for the poet is the vindication of his unswerving

allegiance to the Source

from which he

derives his inspiration.

In the midst of the

Listen to Pico della Mirandola
world, the Creator said to Adam, I have placed thee,
so thou couldst look aroimd so much easier, and see all
that is in it. I created thee as a being neither celestial nor
earthly, neither mortal nor immortal alone, so that thou
shouldst be thy own free moulder and overcomer ; thou
canst degenerate to animal, and through thyself be reborn
to godlike existence .
:

Is this

shell

not the essence and purpose of

human

existence in a nut-

In the midst of the world the Creator placed

" anthropocentric " viewpoint, say our

round and about them they

tale told

by an

see

idiot, signifying

sad, learned

nothing but

dreck.

man.

The

men. Looking

To them

Ufe

is

nothing. Indeed, if we follow their

thought to the end, the very substance of our mother, the Earth,
is

nothingness.

Stripping the cosmos of

spirit,

they have finally

succeeded in demolishing the very ground on which they take their

M7

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

Stand

They speak

solid matter.

to us through a void

and conjecture. Never will they understand that

form of the

generalized

spirit, its

speak as if " every rock has a

and reaHty. They reckon in Hght

symbols of their priesdy

flourished as recent as

on

wrinkled and

its

written

is

they impose

All this
those

me

Nothing

being.

much

for

me

man

artists,

man as a whole.

is

him

a greater antiquity, a

it

Httle faith

books

most enjoy reading arc

with the incredible nature of man's

attributed to the

power and glory of man

is

too

Nothing which concerns the story of our

to swallow.

opinion of

individual

that the

holds

grow with what

it

pretentious learning.

in rapport

earth and the marvels

disgusted

by

by way of saying

which put

when

one hundred thousand years ago. Where man

bolstered

is

with the signs and

and understanding, than our men of

greater inteUigence

whose vanity

years,

of men, superior orders of civilisation,

concerned, the ancients have accorded

my

is

but they are alarmed

caste,

asserted that a superior order

written

world

Though they

own feeble stories of creation upon myths and legends embedded

in truth

is

tale

of hypothesis

the

picture."*

they refuse to read what

weathered face,"
their

symboHc

**

is
is

too preposterous for me.

called " history

becomes. If

The more

" the more exalted

am passionate about the Hves of

am still more passionate about

in whatever field, I

In

my brief experience as reader of the written word

assist at marvels which surpass all understanding.

were but the " imaginings " of inspired writers, their

have been given to

Even

if these

reaUty

is

in

no way impugned.

world in which nothing

fruition.

We are this day on the threshold of a

men dare to think or beUeve is impossible of

(Men have thought the same in certain moments

in the past,

but only as in a dream, firom the deeps or the unconscious, as

it

were.)

We are being told every day, for example, that the prosaic, practical
minds which

ment

direct the affairs

are seriously

moonand

working

of certain departments of our governto perfect the

even planets more distant

means of reaching the

within the next

fifty years.

What Hes behind these plans and projects

Are
we " thinking of defending the planet
is another matter.
Or are we
Earth or of attacking the inhabitants of other planets
(A very modest estimate

**

thinking of abandoning
* Novalis.

148

this

abode in which there seems to be no

KRISHNAMURTI
solution to our

Be

ills i

assured,

daring our plans, the motive

is

This effort to conquer space

heretofore " impossible dreams "
to explode.

The

readers

whatever the reason, however

not a lofty one.

of the daily newspaper or of the popular

science magazines can discourse eloquently

they themselves

which he
plans

and

Woven
Abraham

know

at the root

into the Hfe

the Jew.

the

At

though

theories,

the story of the

Book of
made

of Nicolas Flamcl

it

the

was learning

acquired the

on

these subjects,

of these once wild and incredible

The

to penetrate the secret

discovery of

contained

is

same time,"

how

to

is

this

book and

the effort

a tale of earthly adventure of the

says

Maurice Magre,* " that he

make gold out of any

wisdom of despising

famous alchemists, there

we were

on

next to nothing of the elements of science

projects.

highest order. "

[Flamel]

many

however, only one of

is,

which our men of science promise

is

it

in his heart."

in this

one

As

in

material,

he

any chapter

also astounding and, if

open-minded, most illuminating statements.

wish to

quote just one paragraph, if for no other reason than to suggest the
reverse

of what

insinuated above.

The

passage concerns

two

eminent alchemists of the Seventeenth Century the reader may,

he likes, choose to regard them as " exceptions."
;

if

It is probable that they attained the most highly

developed state possible to man, that they accompUshed
While still Uving they
the transmutation of their soul.
were members of the spiritual world. They had regenerated
their being, performed the task of man. They were twice
bom. They devoted themselves to helping their fellowmen ; this they did in the most useful way, which does

not consist in healing the ills of the body or in improving

men's physical state. They used a higher method, which
in the first instance can be applied only to a small number,
but eventually affects all. They helped the noblest minds
to reach the goal which they had reached themselves.
They sought such men in the towns through which they
They had
passed, and, generally, during their travels.
no school and no regular teaching, because their teaching
was on the border of the human and the divine. But they
knew that a word sown at a certain time in a certain soul

* Magicians,

New

Seers and Mystics,

by Maurice Magre

E. P. Dutton

&

Co.

York, 1932.

149

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

would bring results a thousand times greater than those
which could accrue from the knowledge gained through
books or ordinary

The marvels

speak of are of

thoughts or ideas
practices

science.

of language

feats

sometimes they are

sometimes they are discoveries or inventions

they are the record of miraculous events

sometimes

sometimes they arc the

embodiments of wisdom, the source of which

is

suspect

sometimes

they are accounts of fanaticism, persecution and intolerance

times they take the form of Utopias

human

feats

of heroism

unbehevable beauty
monstrous, evil

To

just

sometimes they are in the nature of physical quests

sometimes they arc sheer

systems

Sometimes they are

all sorts.

sometimes they arc extraordinary beUefe or

some-

sometimes they are deeds, or things, of

sometimes they arc chronicles of

sometimes they arc super-

all

that

is

and perverted.

give an inkling of what

have in mind

pell-mell a series of touchstones

am stringing

Joachim of Floris,

Gilles

together

de Rais,

Jacob Bochme, the Marquis de Sade, the I-Ching, the PiJace of

Knossos,

Richter,

Albigensians, Jean-Paul

the

Heinrich ScUiemann, Joan of Arc, the Count of

Summa

Theologica the great

Madame

St.

Holy

Grail,

Germain, the

Uighur Empire, ApoUonius of Tyana,

St. Francis

Blavatsky,

the

of

Assisi, the

legend of Gilgamesh,

Ramakrishna, Timbuctoo, the Pyramids, Zen Buddhism, Easter

Island,

the great Cathedrals, Nostradamus, Paracelsus, the

Bible,

Atlantis

Children's Crusade, Tristan and

Ur, the Inquisition, Arabia

Isolt,

King Solomon, the Black Death, Pythagoras, Santos

Deserta,

Dumont,
gistus,

Holy

and Mu, Thermopylae, Akhnaton, Cuzco, The

Alice in Wonderland, the

the

White Brotherhood,

Naacal Library, Hermes Trismethe

atom bomb, Gautama

the

Buddha.
There
to

all

is

that

a
is

name

Krishnamurti. Here
a master of reaUty.

any

man

have withheld which stands out in contrast

suspect,

secrer,

can think

of,

his clear, direct

reluctant to .iccept
150

one

except the Christ. Fundamentally he

simple to understand that

which

confusing, bookish and enslaving

man of our time who may be said to be

He stands alone. He has renounced more than
is

what

it is

easy to

words and deeds have

is

easy to grasp.

is

so

comprehend the confusion

entailed.

Out of a

Men

are

perversity deeper

KRISHNAMURTl
than

all

rights

Satan's wiles,

man refuses to acknowledge his own God-given

he demands deliverance or salvation by and through an

intermediary

He looks

he seeks guides, counsellors,

for solutions

which

are in his

above wisdom, power above the

art

leaders, systems, rituals.

own breast. He

puts learning

of discrimination. But above

he refuses to work for his own liberation, pretending that first

" the world " must be Hberated. Yet, as Krishnamurti has pointed
all,

out time and again, the world problem is bound up with the problem

of the individual. Truth

And

salvation ?

petty ego

Your

Do

yourself.

What
soul

is

ever present. Eternity

is it,
?

Your

not worry about

man,

that

identity

God

Lose

is

you wish

here and now.

to save

Your

and you will find

it

God knows how to take care

of Himself. Cultivate your doubts, embrace every kind of experience,

keep on desiring,

strive neither to forget

nor to remember,

but assimilate and integrate what you have experienced.

Roughly,

Krishnamurti's

this is

revoltiug at times to answer

all

way of

speaking.

It

people are forever putting to him. Emancipate yourself

No

one

else will,

wilderness

is,

of

must be

which

the petty, stupid questions

because no one else can.

course, the voice

of a

he urges.

This voice fiom the

But Krishnamurti

leader.

has renounced that rdle too.

was Carlo Suar^* book on Krishnamurti* which opened

It

eyes to this

phenomenon in our

then have reread

have read so
Collective.
I

do

several times.

it

marked

intently,

I first

There

is

it

my

in Paris and since

hardly another

so copiously, unless

it

book

be The Absolute

found gold.

book has been translated into English, nor

know, moreover, what Krishnamurti himself thinks of it. I
this

have never met Krishnamurti, though there

I

read

After years of struggle and search

do not beUeve
I

midst.

would consider

it

a greater privilege to

residence, curiously

enough,

is

is

no man Uving

meet than

he.

whom

His place of

not so very far from

my

own.

me that if this man stands for anything it is

for the right to lead his own life, which is surely not to be at the
beck and call of every Tom, Dick and Harry who wishes to make
However,

it

seems to

his acquaintance or obtain

from him

few crumbs of wisdom.

Editions Adyar, Paris, 1932. This work has now been

;
another, entitled Krishnamurti et Vuniti humaine ; Lc Ccrclc du
Livre, Paris, 1950.
Krishnatnurti

replaced

by

151

THE BOOKS IN MT LIFE

"

You can never know me," he says somewhere. It

know what he represents, what he stands for in being
This book by Carlo Suar^
Krishnamurti*s

invaluable.

It

is

enough to

and essence.
with

replete

own words culled from speeches and writings. Every

development (up to the year the book was

phase of the

latter's

published)

set forth

is

is

is

Suarb

^and lucidly, cogently, trenchantly.

He

background.

discreetly keeps in the

wisdom

has the

to

let

Krishnamurti speak for himself.

book the

In pages ii 6 to 119 of Suar^*

the text of

which

man

After a long discussion with a

Krishnamurti

supermen,

What you

men

reader

herewith give the substance

in

may find for himself

.

Bombay,

the latter says to

speak of could lead to the creation of

capable of governing themselves, of establishing

men who would be their own masters absolute.

man at the bottom of the ladder, who depends
authority, who makes use of all kinds of crutches, who is

order in themselves,

But what about

on

external

the

obHged to submit to a moral code which may, in

him

reahty, not suit

Krishnamurti answers

wield power over others, are at the top

weak and

who

gentle ones,

men who

usurp and

bottom

at the

struggle and flounder.

By

think of the tree, whose strength and glory derives from

and hidden roots

of the

in the case

delicate leaves, tender shoots, the

society, at least as

are supported

by

it is

who

its

deep

crowned by

fragile branches.

on

human

In

the other hand,

support the weak.

of
.

it is

As long

as

the

you

aflfain.

look

at the

problem from

Because your convictions are not the

you amass

citations,

you

To

pit

that I

one authority against another, the

have nothing to

envisage Hfe from a standpoint which

authority, not bolstered

which

springs

by

from your own

is

others*

say.

But

if you

not deformed or mutilated

knowledge, but from one

sufferings,

culture, your understanding, your love, then

152

is

of your own understanding you repeat what is given by author-

andent against the new.

by

top

viewing each problem with a perverted, twisted mind you

another point of view

result

most

the weak. In Nature,

will accept the actual state

ities

tree the

are the

contrast

constituted today, the strong and the powerful

strong and the powerfixl

persist in

The

See what happens in the world.

strong, the violent, the powerfiil ones, the

from your thought, your

you will understand what


KRISBNAMURTI
I

**

say

belief

car la meditation

and

sonally,

hope you

and I belong

towards

life.

arc behefs

It

and

to

du coeur

no tradition.*

being a fact that

what

varies

from day

me, but,

traditions useless to

life

what

You may

attain Hberation,

to dehver oneself from the circumstances in

meI

from

in yoUf

is,

means

kind of experience.

And

This sort of language

is

the clouds of philosophy

the springs of action.

own

your

you must be ready and

that

after

my

is

strength, the

is

enmeshed,

power which

is

just

It

It levels

pierces

restores

the tottering supentructures of the

makes of daily

life

Instead of an

a joyous pursuit.

In a conversation with his brother Theo,

Van Gogh once

" Christ was so

furniture or

infinitely great because

stupid accessories ever stood in his

way."

about Krishnamurti. Nothing stands

in his

no

One

feels

the

said

any other

same way

way. His career, unique in

the history of spiritual leaders, reminds one

of the famous Gilgamesh

Hailed in his youth as the coming Savior, Krishnamurti

renounced the r6le that was prepared for him, spumed

rejected all mentors

and preceptors.

dogma, questioned everything,

moments of exaltation),

and,

ance, freed himself of illusion

He

initiated

cultivated

doubt

faith or

(especially

in

persever-

and enchantment, of pride, vanity, and

source of Hfe for sustenance and inspiration.

of those

all disciples,

no new

by dint of heroic struggle and

every subtle form of dominion over others.

snares

is

come to grips with every

what you refuse to do

willing to

verbal gymnasts and clears the ground of rubbish.

epic.

say

point of view

which confoimd our thought and

it

you

You may

naked, revelatory and inspiring.

obstacle race or a rat trap,

are or

that

the abiHty

all,

which one

the vicious circle

have not that kind of strength. That

exactly. In order to discover

myself

let

understanding

no matter where you

must have the strength of genius. For genius

to

were to

if I

the drcmnstances surrounding you, but this

the abiHty to free oneself

this attitude

to day, not only

me from

be enchained by them, they would prevent

Per-

now, I have no

say

have always had

life

"...

rentendement

est

will understand

He went to the very

To resist the wiles and

who sought to enslave and exploit him demanded

He Uberated his soul, so to say, firom the under-

eternal vigilance.

world and the overworld, thus opening to

Is it

necessary to define this state

Italics

it

**

the paradise of heroes."

mine.

153

"

THE BOOKS IN MY
There

something

is

LIFfi

about

Krishnamurti's

makes the reading of books seem

ako another, even more

Suarh

as

striking, fact

connected with

"the

aptly points out, namely, that

message

which

utterances

There

utterly superfluous.

is

his utterances,

words

clearer his

understood."
" I am going to be vague expressly
Krishnamurti once said

the

less his

is

could be altogether expUdt, but

For, once a thing

defined,

is

it is

my intention to be so.
"... No, Krishnamurti

not

dead

it is

He

does not define, neither docs he answer Yes or No.

the questioner back

upon

him

himself, forces

throws

to seek the answer

Over and over he repeats ** I do not ask you to believe

what I say ... I desire nothing of you, neither your good opinion,
your agreement, nor that you follow me. I ask you not to believe
in himself.

but to understand what

he

is

he

inflicts

upon

all

your

How many

Now

and then

life !

And

true,

is

and pain

asks,

'*

so on.

names, to

what

is

have you
labels,

a great

It's

isolate oneself fi:om

world and think oneself different firom others

you say

that

a veritable lashing

you made happy, not

individuals have

satisfaction to give oneself titles,

is

your slogans and

fine words,

in a transitory but in a lasting sense

the

it

What, he

the self-righteous.

accomplished with

your books

Collaborate with

say."

constantly urging.

But, if

all

that

have you saved a single fcUow creature from sorrow

All the protective devices

social,

moral, religious

weak

the illusion of sustaining and aiding the

^which give
may

so that they

be guided and conducted towards a better hfe, are precisely what

prevent the

weak

firom profiting

by

direct experience

of naked and immediate experience,

Instead

use of protections and thus are mutilated.

men

of

life.

make
become

seek to

These devices

the instruments of power, of material and spiritual exploitation.

own
One of the

(Suar^*

and

artists

roles.

interpretation.)
salient differences

man

between a

like

Krishnamurti

in general lies in their respective attitudes towards their

Krishnamurti points out that there

between the creative genius of the

imagines, he says, that

ego wishes to

moment of

it is

his

utilize ot its

inspiration

artist

ego which

own

wherein

it

profit

was

is

a constant opposition

The

artist

great or sublime.

This

and
is

his ego.

and aggrandizement the

in touch

with the

eternal,

154


KRISHNA MURTI
moment,

which the ego was

precisely, in

the residue of

own

its

living experience.

by

absent, replaced

one's intuition, he

It is

As

maintains,

which should be the

all artists,

indeed, they should develop anonymity, should

become

But

just the

sole guide.

detached from their creations.

they

want

contrary

see

to

most

for

artists it is

signatures

their

In short, as long as the

creations.

for poets, musicians,

attached

he will never succeed in rendering his inspiration or

The

power permanent.

am

not a translator

have had

difficulty transcribing

condensing the foregoing observations and

I

but the

is

phase of deliverance.

first

their

his creative

of genius

quality or condition

to

to individualism,

artist clings

attempting to give the whole of Krishnamurti's thought

in Carlo Suar^' book.

fact that,

and

Nor am

reflections.
as

revealed

was led to speak of him because of the

however soUdly Krishnamurti may be anchored

in reality,

he has unwittingly created for himself a myth and a legend. People

simply will not recognize that a
forthright

complex,

and truthful

much more

most ardently wish

ties

is

man who has made

mysterious.

That

much more

Pretending that what they

from

to extricate themselves

the cruel difficul-

really adore

to

is

obscure and capable of realization only

difficult,

in a distant fiiture.

himself, simple,

not concealing something

which they find themselves, what they

in

make everything
is

is

their difficulties are

of

their

own making
moment

the last thing they will admit usually. Reality, if for one

they allow themselves to be persuaded

is

always referred to

which

as

**

harsh

**

it exists

reaHty.

The hope

that

spoken of

we might

stands opposed to divine reality, or,

hidden paradise.

in everyday Ufe

It is

we may one

day awaken to a

condition of Hfe utterly different from that which

daily

lives

Man

from day

is

to

stultified

day

is

by hope and

the

myth

that

from the prison which he has created

attributes to the machinations

reaHty his own.

which binds us

we

experience

makes men willing victims of every form of tyranny and

suppression.

he

as that

say, a soft,

^that it veils

fear.

he

The myth which

may one day

for himself

of othen. Every true hero has made

In liberating himself, the hero explodes the

to past and fiiture.

the

This morning

escape

and which he

This

is

the very essence

myth

of myth

wondrous here and now.

discovered on the shelf another

book on Krish?55

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

namurd which

me by

to

had forgotten

a fiiend

on

that

away without ever opening

it.

This preamble

does not

Krishnamurti's

Man

(**

is

his

Suar^ book,

it

know
life

own

It

is

meand

for the great service he has rendered

who

possessed.

the eve of a long journey.

had been given

had put the book

to thank

my friend

to inform the reader

French of another excellent interpretation of

and work.

The book

Hberator

by Ludowic R^ault.*

**),

called Krishnamurti

is

Like the

too contains abundant citations from Krishnamurti's

The author, now dead, was a member of

"whose tendencies," he states in the
preface, " I am far from approving, but to whose grand tenets of
Evolution, Reincarnation and Karma I heartily subscribe." And
speeches and writings.

the Theosophical Society,

then there comes

that

am

Since

this

statement

not for Krishnamurti,

"

wish to inform

am

my

readers

with him."

know of no Uving man whose thought is more inspiring

I know of no living man who is more free

and fecundating, since

of opinion and prejudice,

that he

is

stood,

regard

and, because I find

from penonal experience

constantly being misquoted, misinterpreted, misunderit

important and opportune, even at the risk of

as

boring the reader, to linger longer on the subject of Krishnamurti.

where I first heard of him, I had a number of.friends who

were forever talking about " the Masters." None of them, to my

In Paris,

knowledge, were members of any group, cult or

just earnest seekers after the truth, as

we

They were

sect.

And

say.

they were

all

The books which they were reading were at that time

unfamiliar to me
mean the works of Leadbeater, Steiner, Besant,
Indeed, hearing them
Blavatsky, Mabel Collins and such like.
artists.

^I

quote from these sources,

must

day,

sense

of

confess,

ridicule.)

(To

this

excites

my

often laughed in their faces.

Rudolf

Steiner's

language

In the heat of argument

still

was

now

and then

termed " a spiritual bum." Because I have not the makings of

a " follower," these friends, all ardent souls, all consumed by a
desire to convert, regarded me as " their meat." In anger, sometimes,

would

teD

them never

to

they could talk about other things.

come

near

me

them at my door, as if nothing had happened.

The one quaHty which they had in common,
* Christopher Publishing House, Boston, 1939,

156

again

unless

But the morrow would find

must say

KRISHNAMURTI
They were out

immediately, was their utter helplessness.

Here

me, but they could not save themselves.

later on,

what they

what they were

me, was not
any means

talked about,

and preposterous

this

them, something

**

me

know

they will

was

who

is

I recall

to us " his
ture

that they

"

own "

It is

am

indebted to

were doing exactly what

of no value," says Krish-

make

one's

it

own, depends

Make

your

it

that

own

"

He was

ever there was one.

entirely

who was

an English teacher in school

on

the

forever

a vain, pretentious

Had he made one

he had read and pompously recommended

he would not have been teaching English

he would have been writing

truly

all

interested

that, despite everything, I

real jackass, if

thing of

after they

become

significance

said, to

coxcomb, a

may have done

it

was only

significance

is

**

It

fiill

of what

little

think

fiill

said."

from

merciless with

Naturally, to understand the

is

shouting at us

was

speaking, the value Hes in the

of what

individual.

seeing things in the

truly able to

the Masters " discountenanced.

namurti, "

**

to

Not by

(Should any of them happen to read these

But the truth remains

them.)
'*

that

nonsense."

all this

lines

to remain as adamant as I did.

ceased bothering
in

so eager to impart.

have never regretted.

known

once thought.

say, their peculiar inability to profit

vdsdom they were

some good

as I

me from

But what prevented

right light'* was, as

that

what they quoted from the books,

with might and main to make

striving

as silly

to save

must confess

humble, he would,

as teacher,

it,

litera-

or assmning that he was

mentor, guide and what not,

have inspired in us a love of Hterature

which he

most

certainly

did not

But

to

are all

not,

immensely

and what

view.

to " the Masters

come back

"...

of November, 1929, Krishnamurti

Bulletin

To me

my

interested in the

view

it is

from

You

will tell

you

my

importance whether they exist or

when you have

here, there are

who

**
:

to

walk to

the

people ahead of you,

sit

earlier. What is more

down and worship the

book on Krishnamurti, R^hault

points out that Krish-

nearer the station, people

to

important

man who
In his

Uttle

because

exist,

to the station

quoted thus

Masters, whether they exist or

with regard to them.

is

of very

whether they do not

camp or

In the International Star

is

is

have started

get to the station or to

ahead of you

"
?

J57

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

namurti's attitude towards, or vision of, the Masters never altered

"

What had changed was

essentially.

seek the Masters and invoke

and unseemly

He

familiarity."
**

of Krishnamurti's

them

We

outlook on those

his

quotes an earUer statement (1925)

beUeve that the Masters

all

they are somewhere, and are concerned about us

is

not living enough, not

goal of evolution

is

For

me

The tremendous

have

said, the

Masten

they are one."

typical

is

His

life.

of Krishnamurti's ever evolving

of emphasis from 'the

shift

Masters* existence to the purpose of their existence

of

tion

The

arc the

consistency between these apparently clashing

references to the Masters

attitude towards

this belief

who

Uke the Masters

us

of humanity. As

at least

exist, that

but

enough, to make us change.

make

to

apotheosis, the perfection

are a reality.

real

who

and out with a ridiculous

in season

his vigilance, alertness

and indefatigable

fact

of the

a demonstra-

is

efforts

to icomc

to grips with essentials.

Why

do you bother about the Masters

The essential
you should be free and strong, and you can never
be free and strong if you are a pupil of another, if you
is

that

have gurus, mediators, Masters over you. You cannot be

and strong if you make me your Master, your guru.

free
I

don't

Only

want

that

few months

after

making

this

definitive,

unequivocal

statement (April, 1930), badgered again for an answer to the

" It is unessenquestion " Do Adepts, Masters exist i " he replies
:

to me.

tial

am

not concerned with

evade the question ...

must be a

there
tured.

man who

is

may be

few

to quibblers
158

it

to the

man who

call evolution.

Adepts, Masters,
it

In evolution

is

held in the walls

You

falsifiers,

care

more about

You

are willing

is

do not deny

you

it,

but

cannot

an individual."
" Do not desire
reported as saying

has to

not seek truth.

and

not trying to

that they exist.

away, not yourself or your neighbor.

far

years later he

Do

am

should be foolish to deny the gamut of

what you

understand what value

happiness.

ahead of you than about yourself

is

someone

to worship

...

between the savage and the most cul-

difference

experience which

There

do not deny

But what value has

of a prison

the

it

there

as

Do
is

not seek the ultimate." Except

no variance here from

the eternal

KRISHN AMURTI
which he has marked

issue

"

as if it

"

out.

You

were the opposite of what you

If such clear, forthright

words do not

seek truth/* he says again,

are."
incite

and awaken, nothing

will.

Man

**

It

is

own

his

liberator !

"

Is this

has been said again and again, and

again

by

it

not the ultimate teaching

has been proved again and

world figures. Masters ? Undoubtedly. Men who

not principles, laws, dogmas, morals, creeds. " Really

great

espoused

life,

great teachers

do not

down

lay

laws, they

want to

set

man

free."

(ICrishnamurti.)

What
of the

distinguishes Krishnamurti,

past, the masters

The one
being.
the

is

he permits himself to play

r61e

Clad only in the

spirit,

strip

even from the great teachers

and the exemplars,

which

is

men of their

frailty

of the

one with the

illusions

flesh.

flesh,

If

his absolute nakedness.

is

^himself,

human

he reHes entirely upon

he has a mission

it is

and delusions, to knock away the

to

false

supports of ideals, beliefe, fetishes, every kind of crutch, and thus

render back to

humanity.
If any

He

man

the full majesty, the full potency, of his

has often been referred to as " the

man Uving

merits the

thing about Krishnamurti

as a teacher,

nor even

as a

is

title,

that

he does. But to

World

me

Teacher."

the important

he imposes himself upon us not

Master, but as a man.

Find out for yourself, he says, what are the possessions

and ideals that you do not desire. By knowing what you
do not want, by elimination, you will unburden the mind,
and only then will it understand the essential which is
ever there.

159

X
THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
" When you're

THINK

which

was

it

in the

spoke of

ended

think

it

(the

was

until I

go

that

Of course

command

this

" Wait

remains.

or could

Dewey's mouth

An

to the grave.

one

serves

me

curious

awoke

cflfort

remember,

but,
!"

see the whites

of their eyes

a great deal

more remains

(of the reading

if

But

releases.

wc were

the other morning,

continuous

to stay with

sprang,

idiotic thing to

it

what one person remembers and another

The remains ... As

!)

have been

it

you

until

of a book) than what the memory

Manila Bay,

at

my memory

if

poor Spaniards, they never had a chance

right out of

like that other

^it

With Dewey

called

and which,

earlier

Admiral Sampson's

me

book

"*
!

appeared about the same time that the Spanish-American

right,

War

ready, Gristvold, fire

to recall

my

titles,

talking

mind

forgets.

of cadavers
in a whirl

still

authors,

remains eternally

names of

&om

the

places, events

and what do you suppose

The Plains of Abraham
Yes, my
mind was foil of Montcalm and Wolfe fighting it out up there
towards the roof of the world. The French and Indian War, I

and the most seemingly

I

insignificant data,

found myself dwelling on

behcve

we

this battle

places

the Plains of

somewhere

Seven long years of fighting.

call it.

on

Abraham, which

in the vidnity

of the French in North America.

war

of Quebec,
I

It

my

was probably

weak memory

that decided the fate

must have studied

in detail, in school. In fact, I'm sure

did.

this

And what

bloody

remains

The Plains of Abraham, To be more accurate, more precise, it boils

down to a clump of images which could be put in the hollow of
a

shell.

air,

I sec

or was

Montcalm dying

surrounded by

his

bodyguard and a

it

Wolfe

cluster

* According to Gregory Mason, author of Remember

words were
l6o

*'
:

You may

fire

when

ready, Gridley."

^in

the open

of Indians with
the

Maine, Dewey's

THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM

bald knobs from which a few feathers protrude, long feathers,

buried deep in the scalp.

making

is

"I

as
I

regret that

" The

tide

is

of those

words but

his

it

will be dead, a thing

how

Whence

that

is it

that bird

my

ill

omen

me

Perhaps

country."

he was saying

anyway

And

history.

In a

Canada,

worse luck for us

huge bird perched on

visualize a

of

words," such

last

matter,

of

except for the Eastern sHver, will be EngUsh

But

**

seems to

What

going against us."

few moments he

historic

have but one Hfe to give for

no longer remember

Montcalm

Eagles* feathers probably.

a dying speech, one

it is

the

his shoulder

same bird which

got caught in the netting over the cradle in which lay the infant

James Ensor, the bird which haunted him

any

at

rate, large as Hfe

ground in
of

my

There

all his Hfe.

imaginary picture.

For some obscure reason the

famous battleground makes a woeful impression upon

this

down on

the sky seems to press

Not much

it

with

The

space there between land and sky.

tory

by rope
As

shot.
his

They

heads of the

The

will take to the rapids in canoes, a handful

EngHsh above raking them

mercilessly with grape-

Montcalm, being a nobleman by

for

birth,

remains will be removed from the scene with

Night

war.

and a general,

all

the honors of

rapidly, leaving the helpless Indians to look out

falls

for themselves.

French will descend the steep face of the promon-

ladder.

at a time, the

site

me

impalpable weight.

all its

brave warriors seem to brush the cloudless vault of heaven.

battle over, the

it is,

and dominating the infinitude of back-

The

now

British,

having a clear

romp

field,

all

over Canada. With stakes and cord the border is marked out.
"
" have nothing to fear any more
our neighbors arc our

We

own

kith and kin

If this battle isn't included in the fifteen decisive batdes

world
I

it

should be. Anyway,

speak of but batdes and

head of

Rough

his

could think of nothing

battlefields.

bits

and the chain which locked the Spanish

fleet in just

Yes, and there

of the

morning

There was Teddy,

Riders, storming San Juan Hill

poor old Morro Casde being pounded to

iron chain.

this

at the

there

was

by our heavy guns,

was Aguinaldo leading

a rusty old

his rebel forces

swamps and jungles of Mindanao,

With Admirals Dewey and Sampson goes

(Igorotes largely) through the

a price

upon

his head.

Admiral Schley,

who

remains in

my memory

as a kindly, sensible

161


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
of man, not too bloodthirsty, not too great a

sort

The

"just right."

man of Ossawatomie and

grand

his

in.

Harper's Ferry,

A chivalrous fanatic, John Brown. One of the brightest

whole firmament of our brief

the

kin to the incomparable Saladin.

war

all

on both

about him

nearest

All during the

a gracious prince,

How

of

last

compared to

we have
we had two men of the
war

sides in this last

Imagine, if

?)

Our

history.

[Saladin

What

thought of Saladin.

the " butchers "

forgotten

but

he had been too considerate of

fiasco to the fact that

the enemy.
stars

strategist,

Brown the Liberator,

the man who attributed

opposite extreme from John

is it

Brown and Saladin fighting the corruption of the

Would we need more
John Brown swore that with
the right men two hundred would be enough, he said^he could
lick the whole United States. He wasn't far firom the mark, either,
when he made that boast.
cahbre of John

world

Yes, thinking of the lofty, solenin ground of the Plains'of Abraham,

I

got to thinking of another battleground

my own

saw with

But

eyes.

the Greeks had put to the

Persians.

the spot,
it,

it

was

From

dead center,

Platea.

forgot that

level

as in the

War Between

My

the States,

these terrible scenes

game

in history.

recall

barley,

In the

board.

of

now known
had

'/)attle I

I recalled

afield.

as the Civil

visited

'some

War.

our

own

Some of

knew by

heart,

Yes, there was Bull

the Batrle of the Wilderness, Shiloh, Missionary

Ridge, Antietam, Appoiiatox Court House,

Gettysburg.

As

be without slaughter

mind roamed

having heard and read about them so often.

Run, Manassas,

When I came upon

But then followed the slaughter

over.

What would war

Places of slaughter

there

Chinese game of chess, the king was pinned.

game was

d'hahitude.

last

was

ground was sown with wheat,

resembled a huge

it

This
it

sword over three hundred thousand

perfect for " mass slaughter."

a distance

Technically the

comme

time

considerable number, for those times

from Thebes, the

oats.

at the

Pickett's charge

So one

for their courage.

is

always told.

And

and of course

the maddest, most suicidal charge

waiting

The Yankees
(as

cheering the Rebels

**
we " came

always) until

just a Uttle closer, until they could see the whites

of " our "

eyes.

thought of the Charge of the Light Brigade" On rode the six

hundred ! " (To the tune of forty-nine verses and everlasting death.)
I

162


THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM
own

thought of Verdun, the Germans climbing over their

piled

man

as if

on

high and higher. Marching in

The General

parade.

we

a price

how many men

Staff not caring

took to capture Verdun, but never capturing

Another "

it.

books on mihtary

error," as they say so gUbly in

have paid for these errors

All history

wholesale death.

Never

tire

" Fresh wars,"

If

Just blunders.

Still,

we keep turning them

or new wars.

of making new generals, new admirals

we

say.

often

wonder what

battles.

Try

" fresh " about war.

is

you wonder sometimes why some of our

temporaries are unable to sleep, or sleep

of these bloody

What

tactics.

and generaUssimos are per-

generals

make such horrible " mistakes."

mitted to
out.

Only

it

strategic

now. Nothing

accomplished, nothing gained, nothing learned.

And

dead

full regalia, in strict order,

celebrated con-

some

just revive

fitfiilly,

to imagine yourself back in the trenches

or clinging to an overturned man-of-war

try to picture the

**

dirty

" coming out of their hiding places aflame from head to foot
Japs
try to recall the bayonet exercises, first

with the

soft resistant flesh

brother in the

who

of the enemy,

Think of all the

flesh.

foul

it

you were

able to

summon

au fond your

is

words in

of Babel, and when you have mouthed them

in the thick of

with stuffed sacks and then

all,

all

the tongues

ask yourself if

word capable
One can read The
Men in War or J'ai Tue^
a single

of conveying what you were experiencing.

Red Laugh, The Red Badge of Courage,

and in the reading of them derive a certain
strange, strange things about the written

the dread thing in

somewhat
Cendrars
I

often healed.

these men were

artists as

can never think of a general

but a general never.)

the

httle

from youthful

of a gymnast

live

mad

feel

but

Andreyev, Crane, Latzko,

well

an

one of the

you can

as

artist.

murderers.

Somehow,

(An admiral

possibly,

of

a general must have the hide

Pierre Loti,

adjutant

was he not an

Strange that he should pop into

as I said, offers

humanity which

served
a bit

Navy,

that

enjoyment
is

would be nothing more than an

or a commissary sergeant.

Navy

as

me

For

rhinoceros, otherwise he

But

word,

This

your mind and not only not go

exhilarated,

in the French

aesthetic

of these books.

despite the horripilating nature

officer

my

head.

one a thin chance of preserving the

is left us.

Loti, in the

image which

is

pre-

readings, seems so cultured, so refined

also, if I

remember

rightly.

How

could he
163


THE BOOKS

MY

IN

To

be

LIFE

sure, there wasn't

possibly kill

But he

one book which

left

had met in the

day a

Anyway, with

much

guts in his writings.

cannot put aside

mere romantic

as

mean Disenchanted. (To think

Dominican monk, who came to visit me,

balderdash, though possibly

that just the other

it is

**

flesh the

**

heroine

of

this

tender romance

Pierre Loti goes Claude Farr^re, both relics

!)

now,

Monitor and the Merrimac.

like the

Thinking of Thermopylae, Marathon, Salamis,

tion in a juvenile

book

read long ago.

It

I recall

an

illustra-

was a picture of the

brave Spartans, supposedly on the eve of their

last stand, combing

They knew they would die to the last man, yet
because of this fact) they were combing their hair. The long

their

(or

long

hair.

and they

strands fell to the waist

in

my

childish

On my

impression remains.

one poet,

Only

nesos.

artist

or

scientist

esteem

it

was dumbfounded

warriors, lawgivers, athletes

It is

book

nevertheless.

and

men

war

moment

why

learn better ways,

Twenty-seven years of war

gained.

admittedly a

is

finish,

but

one of those books which should be

It is

is,

to learn

obedient clods.

War

have never been able to

read with attention at this

pointing out what

imless

The

had come out of the Pelopon-

Thucydides* History of the Peloponnesian

masterpiece.

This,

plaited, I believe.

expedition through the Peloponncsos,

with Katsimbalis (the " Colossus ")

that not

were

mind, gave them an effeminate appearance.

it

" Thucydides

in history.

comes

to pass,

must continue

what

it

is

does, and,

to do."*

and nothing accomplished, nothing

(Except the usual destruction.)

The Athenians and the Spartans fought for one reason

only ^because they were powerful, and therefore were
compelled (the words are Thucydides* own) to seek more
power. They fought not because they were different
democratic Athens and oligarchical Sparta but because
they were alike. The war had nothing to do with differences in ideas or with considerations of right and wrong.
Is democracy right and the rule of the few over the many
wrong ? To Thucydides the question would have seemed
an evasion of the issue. There was no right power. Power,
whoever wielded it, was evil, the corrupter of men. f

* The Great Age of Greek

New

York, 1942.

tTbid.

164

Literature,

by Edith Hamilton

W. W.

Norton,

THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM

In the Opinion of this author, " Thucydides was the
to see, certainly to put into words, this

become

to

avowed

the

new

doctrine of the world."

namely, that in power poUtics

first

probably

which was

doctrine

The

doctrine,

not only necessary, but right, for

it is

the state to seize every opportunity for self-advantage.

As

how modem

for Sparta,

through Plutarch's eyes

the description of this State seen

is

In Sparta, the citizens* way of Ufe was fixed. In general,

they had neither the wi\l nor the abiHty to lead a private

They were hke

life.

community of

clinging

bees,

together around the leader and in an ecstasy of enthusiasm

and

ambition belonging wholly to their country.

selfless

When you

re

ready ^ Griswotd, fire

Three thousand,

and

make war

the readiness and ability to

diatribes

on

all

We

of our Uves.

annihilating day-to-day fact

a step, despite

thousand years of history

five thousand, ten

Almost

as

soon

the history of our glorious country

is

written in bloodshed, telling of

lust,

secution, intolerance, theft,

as

we

Mormons,

first

heroes are soldiers, usuaXiy generals, of course.

is

the

of the massacre of the Indians, the persecution of

embodiment of

grace,

To

we

are taught

is

false," said

very

any subject one

much

is

Wherever one

conjecture,

comes

how

Both fought

hypothesis,

of

is still

for the

a slave

Rimbaud. As always,

one begins to look deeply

very Uttle

penetrates profoundly

triple-headed spectre
it

realizes

as

Robert E.

and wisdom.

the cause of the trouble,

he meant Hterally everything. As soon

into

the Southerner,

chivalry, valor

led their followers to slaughter.

The Negro, who was

and a pariah.
" Everything

Our
To the Northerner,

the crushing defeat of the rebellious South.

almost a Christ-Hke figure.

Both men
right.

per-

As children

murder and degradation.

thrill

is

a story

It is

greed, hatred, envy,

the

Lee

and

are able to read,

put in our hands.

we

Lincoln

the supreme

still

have not advanced

the sound, irrefutable, analytical treatises

the subject.

to read

is

is

known, how

surmise

one

is

very,

and speculation.

confronted

prejudice, supentition, authority.

to vital instruction, almost everything that has

by

the

When

been written

for our edification can be junked.

165

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

As we grow

we

older

LIFE
learn

how

to read the myths, fables and

We

legends which entranced us in childhood.

read biography

and the philosophy of history rather than history

more and more

We care less and less for facts, more and more for pure flights
intuitive apprehension of the truth.
We

itself.

of the imagination and

discover that the poet, whatever his

We

one time or another worshipped.

enemy

real

and

fear,

is

by

inspired

all

all

the only true

is

we

the heroes

at

observe that man's only

imaginative acts

(all

heroism) are

the desire and the unflinching resolve to conquer fear

whatever form

^in

that

medium,

merged

Into this single type are

inventor.

it

manifests itself

The

hero-as-poet epitomizes

He

the inventor, the pioneer, the pathfinder, the truth seeker.

who

it is

we

persist in situating this paradise in a

the poet.

majority

The
for
is

dragon and opens the gates of

slays the

is

not the

fault

of

The same beUef and worship which inspire the vast

are mirrored by an inner absence of faith and reverence.

poet-as-hero inhabits reaHty

all

beyond

That

paradise.

he seeks to establish

reaHty

this

mankind. The purgatorial condition which prevails on earth

the caricature of the one and only reaUty

and

because the

it is

poet-hero refuses to acknowledge any but the true reaHty that he

is

always
said a

always

slain,

sacrificed.

moment ago

that our first heroes are soldiers.

In a large

we mean by " soldier " one who acts

on his own authority, one who fights for the good, the beautiful
and the true in obedience to the dictates of his own conscience.
sense this

In

True, if

true.

is

even the gentle Jesus could be called

this sense

So could Socrates and other great

of

The

as soldiers.

But

soldiers.

this

then

The

The only good

rest are tin soldiers.

To

man

" in

be more exact,

us through the heroic legends.

that order

of heroes known

society, that the

important,

we

soldier."

never think
as

mighty

his frailty
this is

When we

as saints

and

soldier, strictly

What

is the hero
" battling against

a residual impression

examine the Hves of

sages,

we

perceive very

odds are not insuperable, that the enemy

clearly that the

i66

The

incarnation of

insuperable odds.
lefi;

good

must then be ranked

great pacifists

the hero.

is

**

whom we

conception of the soldier derives from attributes

formerly reserved for the hero.

speaking,

figures

gods are not against man, and, what

perceive that the reaUty

which the

is

is

not

more

latter strive to

THE PLAINS OP ABRAHAM

and maintain

assert, establish

which

is

not

is

at all a wishful rcaHty

by man's

ever present, only hidden

but one

wilful blindness.

we come to adore such a figure as Pichard the Lionwe have already been enthralled and subjugated by the
more subHme figure of King Arthur. Before we come to the great
Crusader we have had for company, in our rarest moments, the
very real, very vivid personages known as Jason, Theseus, Ulysses,
Before

Hearted

We

Sinbad, Aladdin, and such like.

such

historical figures

Daniel

who

braved the

lions'

Robin Hood, Daniel Boone, Pocahontas.

under the

of purely Hterary

spell

Crusoe, GulHver, or AUce

Or we may have
such

creations,

their

for AHce, too, was in quest of reaUty and

provenance,

also " spacebinders."

possess the faculty

and

fortified

fallen

Robinson

as

proved her courage poetically by stepping through the looking

Whatever

with

are already famiHar

King David, Joseph in Egypt,

den, and with lesser figures such as

as the great

all

these

Even some of

early spellbinders

the historical figures

of dominating time and

were

seem

to

All were sustained

space.

by miraculous powers which they

glass.

either wrested

from

the gods or developed through the cultivation of native ingenuity,

cunning or

man

that

is

The moral underlying most of

faith.

really free, that

he only begins to use

powers when the beUef that he

possesses

is

intellect.

Perhaps

given to know, but

it

it is

only one

more than

To jump

clear

of the clockwork

which the hero

he does not know,

The meaning

we must employ

is

obvious.

whatever means

It is not enough to beUeve or to know

we
And I mean act, not activity. (The acts " of the Apostles,
example.) The ordinary man is involved in action, the hero

are in our possession.

must
for

is

God-given

as basic quaHties

Uttle trick

suffices for all

never will know, never need know.

his

them becomes unshakable.

Ingenuity and cunning appear again and again

of the

these stories

acts.

**

act.

An immense

Yes, long before

difference.

we

are filled

with adoration for the incarnations

we have been impregnated with

men in whom intellect, heart and
soul were welded in triumphant unison. And how can we overlook,
of courage and stout-heartedness
the spirit of

more sublime

types,

in mentioning these truly masculine figures, the regal types

womanhood that were attracted to them Only back in

past do we seem to find women who are the equal and
i

this

of
dim

counter-

167

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

of the great

part

What

in spirit.

disillusionment awaits us as

advance into history and biography

we

can we compare these conquerors

Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon

with

men

King David,

like

King Arthur, or Saladin

the great

How fortunate we are to taste the supernatural

at the threshold

European

of our

institutional Hfe

known

history,

by

enacted over and over

That

whom we

those

terrible episode in

Crusade,

as the Children's

and the supra-sensual

is it

not being

bring into the world

without thought or concern for their true welfare

Almost from

the start our children abandon us in favor of the true guides, the
true leaders, the true heroes.

They know

at the earhest

moment

them some

call

or

instinctively that

whom

from

their jailers, their tyrannical masters,

"

else slay us aHve.

Little primitives,"

"

Or, tout court "

Yes, but one might also say

times.

" Httle wizards," " Uttle warriors."

" Everything we are taught is false."

we

they must

are
flee

wc

Httle saints,"

little

martyrs."

all.
For
not beHeving " their " falsehoods we are relentlessly and mercilessly
punished ; for not accepting " their " vile surrogates we arc

Yes, but that

not

is

humiHated, insulted and injured ; for struggling to free ourselves

from " their " strangling clutches we are shackled and manacled.

O,

and they

tell

us that only angels have vdngs.

ourselves

on

truth, the

way and

follow

Him

of

the altar
the

Hterally

at.

know

not where

And

if,

and to the

we

why

is

is

the

are laughed

heaped upon

us.

to

and

Wc

should act thus instead

Ours to obey, not

ever evaded.

We begin in chains

why.

is

Him, demanding

we

bitter end,

why we

us that Christ

tell

accepting

fresh confusion

stand nor

of so. For us the question

to ask the reason

and they

truth,

life.

At every turn

jeered

We beg to
We beg to offer

home

the tragedies that are enacted daily in every

fly,

Stones for bread, logarithms for answers.

and

we end in chains.
we turn to

In despair

books, confide in authors, take refuge in dreams.

Do
aid,
I

not consult me,

miserable parents

forlorn and abandoned youths

know how you

suffer

and

why you

is

no

redress.

Even

paUiation.

One must

children."

Every one bows

168

to be creative

head in

not beseech

is

"

silence

my

are suffering.

has been thus since

It

we know

free himself unaided.

his

Do

know you

suffer.

the beginning of time, or at least since

man. There

anything about

but alleviation and

To become as little
when this utterance

THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM

V

,'

is

But no one

repeated.

be the

last

truly believes

^d parents will always

it.

to believe.

The autobiographical novel, which Emerson

grow in importance with time, has replaced the
not a mixture of truth and

It is

veridical, than the diary.

It

genre of Hterature, but

fiction, this

an expansion and deepening of truth.

more

It is

more

authentic,

not the flimsy truth of

is

would

predicted

great confessions.

which

facts

the authors of these autobiographical novels offer but the truth of

emotion, reflection and understanding, truth digested and assimilated.

The being
That
Portrait

The

is

books

Man

we

appeared,
letters.

simultaneously.

and the

catch us in the very bowels.

men Hke
which

more

than those

who

great Hars, the

modem

not their concern.

who

was much

times,

men whose
who

word

every

is

What

They do not even

for their province

come down

is

is

flouted because they

try to

words

theologian he

lover Ab^lard

is

is

dull,

latter,

the great ones are

vision and experience

what they have seen and

tell

The

felt,

great visions wliich have

are but the pale, jeweled reflections

Great events

may

be

that to
conscience Augustine

but great visions transfix one. As a saint

sinner struggling with his

and includes

unlimited and undefinable.

classify

For the

the ineffable.

to us in

God

for the

name and

of indescribable happenings.

As

could be more staunch and eloquent

constitutes reaHty

imagination

Httle

blasphemed

closer to

at his blasphemies.

content to forego this game.

as a

is

stranger than fiction because reaHty precedes

imagination.

suflSce.

We

speak in

and found her ugly,

shudder and wince

advocates of truth than they

of

his knees

Lautr^amont,

reHable criterion.
in

Beauty

are certain that

invent and fantasticate,

is

Though they

they stand as regards truth.

more than any man

Men

first

men of

have the testimony of some very eminent

name of Beauty, we

Truth

significance.

books inspired when they

Rimbaud, who took Beauty upon

a far

new

Celine and Joyce, a

these

Their reactions are also significant and revelatory.

know where

is

all levels

the Installment Plan

sordid facts of miseducated youth acquire, through the hate,

to the disgust

the

Death on

like

of the Artist as a Young

rage and revolt of

As

on

revealing himself does so

why

is

overwhelmingly duU.

magnificent, for in

soul-stirring,

say, as a
is

wretched

magnificent

As teacher and

both realms he was in

his

169

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

He

element.
a

never became a saint

man. H^loise

The Church

it.

he was content to remain

the true saint, but the

is

is

human

Church has never admitted

institution

which often mistakes the

criminal for the saint and vice versa.

When we come to Montezuma we are in a totally different world.

Again

we

have

and inner radiance.

lustre

imagination,

beauty,

magnificence,

Again there
and

dignity

Again the awesome bright ambiance of the gods.

is

Cortez

as the

Cortez and Pizarro

supreme vandak of

Prescott's

a ruffian

They

touches nadir.

stand out

time.
usually

happen upon

one of those terrifying and illuminating creations

is

which put the

seal

of

all

nobiHty.

What

they make our hearts bleed vwth

monumental work,* which we

in adolescence,

We

man

In their exploits

disgust.

splendor,

is

true

of doom on our youthful dreams and

this continent,

we

adolescents

who had

aspirations.

been drugged and

hypnotized by the heroic legends of history books (which begin

only

after

the bloody preface written

by

the Conquistadores),

learn with a shock that this glorious continent

with inhuman violence.

is

a pretty

lust for

World

We

symbol masking

gold
rests.

is

learn that the " fountain

a hideous story

the foundation

on which

Columbus followed

we

was forced open

of youth

"

of lust and greed.

The

empire of the

New

this

a dream, but not his

men, not

who followed after him. Through the

of history Columbus now seems Hke a quiet, serene madman.
What all unwittingly he set in
reverse of Don Quixote.)

the swashbuckling bandits

mists

(The

motion, what one eminent British writer

calls

" the American

horror," f has the quaUty and content of nightmare.

* The Conquest of Mexico and

"

With every

Peru.

a very hard thing to escape the American horror ; and quite impossuppose, to explain to those who don't see what it is that the victims
of it see. The horror can be very big. But it can also be very small. Most
things of this sort can be detected by their smell ; and I think this particular
horror is usually found ^like the inside of an American coffin after the
embalming process has run its course to smell of a mixture of desolate
varnish and unspeakable decomposition. The curious thing about it is
It is more
that it is a horror that can only be felt by imaginative people.
than a mere negation of all that is mellow, lovely, harmonious, peaceful,
It is a terrifying positive.
organic, satisfying. It is not a negation at all
I think at its heart lies a sort of lemur-like violence of gruesome vulgarity.
"
danse macabre V of frantic self-assertion.
It certainly loves to dance a sort of
It has something that is antagonistic to the very essence of what the old
training
to
us
ten thousand years." (John Cowper
have
for
cultures
been
Powys in his Autobiography.)

It is

sible, I

170

THE PLAINS OP ABRAHAM

new

boatload came fresh vandals, fresh

who were

assassins

exterminate the living, but like devils incarnate

violated

itself,

every

pillage,

rape and

upon

the earth

fell

protected

it,

destroyed

of culture and refinement, never ceasing in

depredations until confronted

The

who

annihilated the gods

it,

last trace

Vandals and

assassins.

not content simply to plunder,

story of Cabeza de

by

own

their

Vaca

North America), and

(in

their

frightening ghosts.
that

is

why

It is

a heartbreaking story as well as an inspiring one. This scape-

speak of it over and over, breathes the magic of redemption.

goat of a Spaniard really expiates the crimes of his predatory pre-

Naked, abandoned, hunted, persecuted, enslaved, for-

decessors.

God he had

saken even by the

driven to the

The

last ditch.

perfunctorily worshipped, he

miracle occurs when, ordered

them of

captors (the Indians) to pray for them, to heal

or die, he obeys.

a miracle indeed

It is

He who was

the bidding of his captors.

The power

to heal

and

as

restore, to create

his

their

ills

which he performs

dust

is

is

by

at

Hfted up, glorified.

peace and harmony, does

not vanish. Cabeza de Vaca moves through the wilderness of what

is

now

Texas

Reviewing

like the risen Christ.

his

life

in Spain,

a " European," as a faithful servant of his Majesty the Emperor,

as

he reahzes the utter emptiness of that

abandoned to a cruel
his

fate,

Creator and his fellow creatures.

De

memory."

the vast halls of his

Hfe.

Only

in the wilderness,

was he able to come

face to face

Augustine found

with

Him

"in

Vaca, like Abraham, found

Him " in the direct conversation."

had taken

If only our history

If only this Spaniard, in all the

its

direction at this crucial point

might and the glory

that

was revealed

unto him, had become the forerunner of the American to come

But no,

from

this inspiring figure,

sight.

Ringed

this true warrior, is

in light, he

is

nevertheless absent

chronicles our children are given to read.

of him.

very few.

for us de Vaca's

the

first

order.

own
The

One of these,
historic

true

upon

from the

A few men have written

Haniel Long, has interpreted

**
It is an
Interlinear " of

document.

and

essential narrative has

and rendered widi poetic Hcence.

illumination

almost buried

been exhumed

Like a powerful beacon,

it

sheds

the bloody confusion, the atrocious nightmare,

of our beginnings here in

this

land of the red Indian.

171

XI
THE STORY OF MY HEART
Some few

my

with

years before sailing for Paris

had occasional meetings

old friend Emil Schnellock in Prospect Park, Brooklyn.

Wc used to stroll leisurely over the downs in the summer evenings,

of the fundamental problems of Ufe and eventually about

talking

Though our tastes were quite divergent, there were certain

Hamsun and D. H. Lawrence, for whom we had
common enthusiasm. My friend Emil had a most lovable way

books.

authors, such as
a

of deprecating

knowledge and understanding of books

his

tending to be ignorant or obtuse, he

which only a sage or

this short

my

on

my

The

part.

me

friend caused

was an

it

desire to

to realize

how

and a mentor to him.

a guide

munions was

that

remember

exercise in humility

very Httle

He may

floundered.

but not

on

Often,

I.

all

that

endeavored to explain

have thought

from him,

parting

and

be absolutely truthful with

I

knew,

how

In brief, the result of these

began to doubt

The more

granted.

pre-

questions

could reveal, though he has always maintained that

Httle I

more

a philosopher could answer.

period vividly because

self-control

would ply me with

very

was

com-

had bHthely taken for

my

point of view the

acquitted myself well,

would continue

the inner

debate interminably.
I

suspect that

that

have

had

all

all

was

rather arrogant

and conceited

the makings of an intellectual snob.

the answers, as

we

say, I

must have given the

being thus endowed. Talk came easily to

a glittering

in the

web.

me

read far
a result,

172

not

illusion

of

could always spin

spirit,

punctured

my

vanity.

There was some-

They made
knew a lot more than he pretended
he sometimes knew much more than I did myself. If he
less than I, he read with much greater attention and, as
he retained much more than I ever did. I used to think

thing very artful about these innocent questions of his.

but that

if I did

Emil's sincere, direct questions, always couched

most humble

clear to

at this time,

Even

me

that

he not only

"THE STORY OF MY HEART

memory

his

was the

it

which

gift

astounding, and

it

was indeed,

abihty to discover in every author that which

By

comparison

authors

was

might confess to

my

good

years,

friend

is

discovered

later,

namely, the

There were certain

them out

as

being

perhaps twenty years

later,

Emil

ruled

that

had found something

of merit in them, an admission which often took him by

by

because, influenced

time

come

my

dogmatic

to suspect that

was always

this

later,-

had, moreover, a

valuable and lasting.

intolerant.

stomach

Ten

beneath one's attention.

I

and

ruthless

absolutely could not

He

much

only learned the value of

but, as

of patience, love, devotion.

fruit

assertions,

surprise

he had in the mean-

he had overrated these authors.

amusing and sometimes bewildering

There

decalage

where

our opinions of authors were concerned.

whom

There was one author

warmth

nothing about him or the

heard the

name

before, I

For some reason,

at the

impression that

was

Hearty

no

it

was

had nothing
It is

it

me

with great

called,

Httle book he had written, never having

made a mental note of it and passed on.

time Emil mentioned

it

to

me,

got the

a " sentimental " narrative.

The Story of my
and the author was English. Richard JefFeries,

Meant nothing

less.

he recommended to

must have been ^ good twenty years ago. Knowing

it

to

me.

would read

^when

some day

it

better to do.

strange

have touched on

one does forget the

title

this before, I

know

that even

if

and author of a book once recommended

one does not forget the aura which accompanied the recommendation.

word

Httle

warmth or

or phrase, an extra touch of

zeal,

keeps a certain vague remembrance aUve in the back of one's head.

We

ought always to be

alert to these

we

a fool

nor an

tender, sympathetic

he had imparted on

Here
been on

let

me

my

because there

type to a

is

a fool or an idiot,

Of course my friend

Emil

He was of an unusually warm nature,

and beHeving. That something " extra " which

this

digress a

mind

idiot.

occasion never ceased working in me.

moment

to speak

frequently of late.

tion of a certain " fat boy,"

this

book be

should always be ready to take heed.

was neither

No

smouldering vibrations.

matter if the person recommending the

It

of something which has

has to

whose name

do with the

recollec-

hke to think was Louis,

something about the name Louis which describes

tec.

(" Je

me nomme

Louis Salavin

")

Now Louis,
173


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
the other day,

I recalled just

was the one who

usually presided over

our discussions of life and books in the vacant

was

a fat boy, as

categorize him,
lander.")

I said,

if I

would choose

mean

and

were to search

that this Louis, like

blazing.

is

raw

chippies,

grabbed

apart,

he mingled with the

gift.

lot.

We

the

It is

have

who,

It

it is

can see

It

this

month of November and

was

Louis

remember

that

was a strange world for us

said,

much more

huge

potatoes, onions, carrots, apples, whatever could be

Soon we wiU be standing by

off.

This particular day

Paris*

contributed our mite to the feast

all

Louis* feet,

and ^warming up for the discussion which

bit

had neither

over again, perched like a stuffed vulture atop the fence

all

which closed off the

bonfire

tribe,

to

" out-

subHme kind of condescension.

to a

natural that he should possess the oracular

of ours

his

all

word

us say

let

He

comer.

for the

parents, relatives, traditions,

Detached and

habits.

world only in obedience

(Or,

diclassi.

background nor milieu, neither home,

customs or fixed

lot at the

at

we

touched on The Mysteries of

kids, this

was one of Dostoievsky's

home

munching our

certain to ensue.

is

world of Eugene Sue

favorite authors.

in the imaginary worlds

We were

of the writers of

romance. Louis hstened benignly and directed the discussion with

an
It

"

invisible

was
I

as if

wand.

have spoken "

What
remains

Now and

that

was the tone of his "

precisely Louis said

the tone

is

word

then he put in a cryptic

Moses spake. Nobody ever questioned Louis*

is

completely

of authority, the

or two.

veracity.

dicta.**

lost

to

me.

All that

certitude behind his words.

There was an additional quaUty, almost

which Louis

like grace,

conveyed to us in these moments. It was approval or benedic^on,

" Continue your meanderings,** he seemed to say.
if you Hke.
" Follow out every clue, every gossamer thread.
will know.'* If we

had doubts, he urged us to

Eventually you

cultivate them. If we

" It's your show,"

" Your body is yours

passionately, blindly beheved, he also approved.

he seemed to insinuate. Just

alone

you

from

from

"f

it

it

world

who

has a right to

and to permit whoever you will to get pleasure

was the mind Louis was interested

(See the end of this chapter for a note
Philosophie dans le boudoir.

tLd
174

de Sade says

are the only person in the

take pleasure

It

as

in.

Not " our " minds, or any

on Eugene Sue.)

"THE STORY OP MY HEART

particular

mind, but Mind.

was

It

though Louis were reveaHng

as

of mind. Not thought, but mind. There

to us the essential nature

Any one could grapple with thought,

mattered not to Louis what the " truth " might

was mystery attached to mind.

but mind

be

.?

So

it

problems

as regards the

time in our young

that

was

it

all

we were

then confronting for the

first

make us understand
very high game too. His

Louis was trying to

lives.

a game, so to speak.

repUes, or observations, cryptic

though they were, had

for us

all

the

import of revelation. They gave an importance hitherto unknown

to the questioner rather than the question.

Whence comes

this question ?

Why

Who

is

it

that asks ?

Divine or die such was the terrible dilemma proposed

the sphinx to the candidates for Theban royalty. The

by

reason
life

is

that the secrets

of science are

actually those

of

the alternatives are to reign or to serve, to be or

not to be. The natural forces will break us if we do not put

them to use for the conquest of the world. There is no
mean between the height of kinghood and the abyss of
the victim state, unless we are content to be counted
among those who are nothing because they ask not why
or what they are.*
It

now

seems undeniable to

me

had divined some extraordinary

about him. Just to be in
indescribable.

He

his

own

age.

He

was

without in the

preferred our

Did he know

were already "

these latter
rate,

his presence

of

even

life.

as a

mere youth,

The pleroma was

to partake

of a fulbess

never pretended to be the possessor of great

knowledge or wisdom.
boys

that Louis,
secret

least

lost,"

it

company

abandoned to the world

suspecting

it,

of the

to that

seems quite possible

?

that

At any

Louis had assumed the role

of hierophant.

How much more we learned from Louis than from our appointed
I realize it now when I think of another boy my own
age, whom I liked exceedingly, and who used to go out of his
instructors

way every day

his

name.

character.

to

walk home with

had tremendous

He and

me firom school.

Joe Maurer was

respect for his intellect as well as his

the French boy, Claude de Lorraine,

whom

* The History of Magic, by Eliphas Levi (Alphonse Louis Constant)

William Rider & Son, Ltd., London, 1922.

175


THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB
have spoken of elsewhere, were virtually models for

One day

this period.

made

Joe Maurer to Louis. Until that

saw written

all

moment I had not

who had gone

to Louis,

occasion

saw

into a

friend

flaw.

monologue,

my

the incineration of

It

that

was made

young

dear

of compassion which Louis could

In that flood-Hke smile

summon on

my

the least suspicion

doubt. Then

over Joe Maurer's face

wimess of a dreadful event

skeptic.

throughout

of Joe Maurer there existed a grave

that in the very being

was while Ustening

me

the mistake of introducing

Httle

Joe Maurer consumed to a

crisp.

Louis had put the torch to that petty, vaunting intellect which had so

He had

impressed me.
there

was nothing

turned on

left (for

him

power of Mind

the full

me) of my comrade's

^and

intellect, character

or being.

Seeing Louis now, in

with announcements

my

^huge

flaming

(Rebecca of Sunnyhrook Farm,

Bamum &

posters

Way Down

of

coming

events

The Wizard of Oz,

East,

Burton Holmes* Travelogues, Houdini,

Bailey's Circus,

Gendeman Jim

mind's eye, astride the fence billeted

Corbett, Pagliacci,

Maude Adams

in the eternal Peter

Pan, and so on), seeing Louis perched there Hke a rotund wizard, a
lad

of sixteen yet so immeasurably superior to

us, so distant

and yet

so close, so serious and yet so carefree, so absolutely sure of himself

and yet so unconcerned about

myselfu'/id/
to

become

Has

person, his

Did he

dominant character of some

the

have read and marveled over

Such

as

as

aUve to

me

standing in the vacant lot at the comer.

alive.

It

would not be

announced himself here

with and

who were so

expect to hear

with you always

But Louis

to

at

at

all

as
I

did he take

ask

book

at

off",

an

from " the

disappear

when

am

was a boy of ten

certain

Big Sur. All those other

thought

it

he

it

never

strange that our paths should

Not any more. There

what was he doing

very

lads I played

then seemed,

are a handful

" even unto the end of the world."

had he assumed such a disguise

is still

remarkable if one day he

very, very close to me,

of Once

never cross again.

176

fate, I

from our ranks

Louis never meet with an ordinary end.

A moment ago he was

much

own

strange, occult

Or

early age, for Arabia, Tibet, Abyssinia

world "

disappear

under the cloak of anonymity perhaps, written works

he,

which

own

his

ever became of Louis ?

in that grotesque

Was

it

who

body

remain

Why

to protect himself against

"the StOHY
and ignoramuses

fools

know your

My friend
How
this

in the

book

Emil,

it is

Louis, Louis,

real identity

for so long

what

MY HEART

would not give

to

high time to acknowledge

name of heaven could

Why were you not

Ql

my

debt to you.

possibly have avoided reading

Why did you not shout the title in my cars

more

insistent

Here

is

man who

speaks

my

He is the iconoclast I feel myself to be yet never

He makes the utmost demands. He rejects, he scraps,
What a daring seeker When you
annihilates. What a seeker

inmost thoughts.
fully reveal.

he

read the following passage

we had

in

nature of

wish you would try to

recall those talks

Park, try to remember, if you can, the

fumbling answers to those " deep " questions you

Prospect

my

propounded ...

The mind

->

and able to understand everything

there is no hmit to its understanding.* The limit is the Uttleness of the things and
the narrowness of the ideas which have been put for it
For the philosophies of old time past and
to consider.
the discoveries of mooem research are as nothing to it.
They do not fill it. When they have been read, the mind
The utmost of them, the
passes on, and asks for more.
whole together, make a mere nothing. These things have
been gathered together by immense labor, labor so great
that it is a weariness to think of it ; but yet, when all is
summed up and vmtten, the mind receives it all as easily
as the hand picks flowers. It is like one sentence
^rcad and
gone.f
that

is

infinite

is

brought before

it

Emil, reading Richard

forgive
are

we

over

me

if I call it

waiting for
It

ask

me

For the hfe of me

That

is

Why

that
are

used to annoy you,

You would

why we

Jcfferics, I

suddenly

my

^ycs,

we marking
I

a question

sublime

subUmc impatience.
time ?

Was

know, but you were

and

my

recall

would

What

not that me
tolerant

all

of me.

reply with a bigger one.

could not understand, and would not understand,

did not scrap everything immediately and begin afiesh.

why, when

came

across certain utterances

from the

lips

of

" Nothing is
* Curious that Lautrdamont said almost the same
incomprehensible."
fThis and other citations are taken from the Haldeman-Julius r|)rint
:

of JefFeries* Story of My Heart.

177

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

Louis Lambert

was

am

another Louis

suffering then exactly as

nearly jumped out of

and

to the degree

Time and

us he suffered.

me which

tyrant in

my skin.

many who

not altogether convinced that there are

for the reasons intimated

tells

he had suffered.

again

suffer

which Louis Lambert

have hinted that there

is

continues to assert that society must one day

be governed by its true masters. When I read Jefferies' statement

" In twelve thousand written years the world has not yet built

House, nor filled a Granary, nor organized itself for its

comfort " this old tyrant which refuses to be smothered rises

itself a

own
up

Time and again, touching on certain books, certain authors,

again.

tremendous impact of

the

recalling

Emerson,

Nietzsche,

especially

their

think with fury and resentment

^I

whose hands we were

teachers into

He

Hke

masters

of those early

(still !)

What

men

Zen

the

There was our

entrusted.

principal at " dear old 85," for example.

and conceit

utterances

Whitman,

Rimbaud,

of vanity

a bundle

walks in one day, while we're studying arithmetic,

begs the teacher

him

to let

and in the space of a few

take over,

minutes goes to the blackboard and draws the figure eight lying on
" he asks. An impressive silence.
its side. " What does that signify ?

No one knows,
**

Boys, that

it.

An

is

of course. Whereupon he announces sententiously

the sign for infinity

egg lying on

its

side

" Nothing further said about

^nothing more.

Uttle later, in

High

School, comes Dr. Murchisson, another mathematician and an ex-

commander of

One day
(It

the

tells

me

ask

you

that
i

Hving monument to

Obey "
!

good

Then, by

am

discipline for the

way of punishment

me memorize

to dehver before the

mind.
for

wonder

Then

that

there

I still

was

Latin teacher.

Anyway,
178

the

**

and the

Is

my

For answer he

an answer,

that

temerity and im-

a speech he has written for me,

whole

school.

ships, the various types there are, the kinds

their varying speeds

discipline, this

Commander Murchisson,
why we studied geometry.

That's

utterly senseless, useless study to me.)

it is

pudence, he makes
I

plucked up the courage to ask

seemed an

which

Navy.

Never ask why

**

bird.

effectiveness

It is

about battle-

of armament they

of their broadsides.

carry,

Do you

nourish a healthy contempt for this old master ?

om first
Bulldog " Grant, the Latin teacher
.

(Why I chose to study Latin is still a mystery to me.)

man was an absolute conundrum to us. One moment

"the story of my heart"

he would be apoplectic with rage, positively beside himself, " hopping mad,"

we

as

say, the veins standing out like cords at the

down

temples, the perspiration rolling

Why

his puffed red-apple cheeks.

Because some one had used the wrong gender or employed

The next moment he would be

the ablative instead of the vocative.

wreathed in

smiles, telling us a joke, a risque

he began the session by calling the

on God's

tant thing
rise,

clear

hoc

huius,

huic,

Every day

usually.

were the most impor-

up he would bid

us

top of our lungs

at the

huius

huius,

warm

Then, to

earth.

our throats, and yell

one

roll, as if it

huic,

huic

**

..."

through to the end. This and the conjugation of the verb "
are

all I

Later,

retain

of the

three years of Latin.

first

us

Hie, haec,

Instructive,

right

amo
what

"
!

under another Latin teacher named Hapgood, a good egg, by

who had a real love for his bloody Vergil, we used to

now and then from the principal. Dr. Paisley
I tell you, the latter remains for me the symbol incarnate

way, one

the

receive a surprise visit

To

this

day,

of the pedagogue. In addition to being a blunderbuss and dunderhead

he was an arch-tyrant. Just to be near him was to be
terror

game

get

march

this

was to break in on us

to the head of the

wished to keep

no choice

his

hand

room on

in,

in the matter) to let

Aeneid) which he undoubtedly

though puzzling
us)

it

him

pretending that he

take over for a

knew by

heart, scans

it

intently as

Hm

He

the pages, chooses a passage

riffles

on one of

him

as

we

us to rattle off the

all

were, what Httle

poor victim had vanished hke smoke. But Dr. Paisley

seemed not

at all surprised

this

this utter

or displeased
blankness of

on

mind

the contrary, he reacted

^were entirely natural

and customary. All he was waiting for was to give us

the translation.

He would do

through the bloody

text.

rendition to

it

his version

falteringly, as i groping his

of

way

Sometimes he would look up, and

if we didn't perhaps prefer

None of us gave a fuck which way he interAll we were praying for was that he would leave

addressing the air above us,

this

few minutes.

he picks up the book (the

chair,

Naturally, terrified of

ability his

though

some unexpected moment,

tiptoes, and,

reads to himself, then picks

translation.

at

fear,

Httle

out, then quietly asks the professor (with his eyes

where we were.

which he

as

with

beg dear Professor Hapgood (who had

Plunking himself in the master's

on

filled

and dread. Bloodless he was, with a heart of stone. His

would ask

that.

preted the passage.

179

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB

as

soon

as possible.

He

gave off the odor,

must add, of camphor,

He was the very corpse of learning

TTicre is one more I must mentionDoc Payne. He was a testy chap
but likable in a way, especially out of class. He smoked a lot, we
observed, and was as eager for the class to be dismissed as we ourarnica

and embahning

selves.

It

fluid.

meant a few

puflfs

on

To him history was

like that.

the sly for him.

modem

us ancient, medieval and

generals, statesmen, diplomats

all

Anyway, he taught

one

history

after another, just

dates, battles, peace treaties,

"

names of

the rats," so to speak. Because

human than the rest I can't forgive him for the " omisWhat do I mean Just this. Never once, at the beginning
semester, did he give us a bird's-eye view of what we were

he was more
sions."

of a

Never once did

in for.

it

occur to

him

to " orient " us in this vast

muddle of dates, names, places, etc. If he expatiated at all, it was on

some campaign long forgotten, some " decisive battle " of the world.
red, white and
I can sec him all over again, with chalk in hand

designating by chicken

tracks the positions

blue

the cavalry

some other

of the opposing

know why at a certain moment

was unleashed, or why the center gave way, or why
fool manoeuvre took place. He never enlarged upon

Very important

armies.

for us to

the character, temperament, genius (miUtary or otherwise) of the

leaders

of these great

the causes
us,

and

if

He

conflicts.

of the various wars.

we had

more important

any

ideas

own

never gave us his

We

pr^ds of

followed the books he handed

of our own,

we

smothered them.

to have the right date, the exact terms

It

of the

was

treaty

under discussion, than to have a wide, general, integrated picture of

the whole subject.

He might have

ancient history, for example, and here

**

said,
I

on opening

take the Uberty

the

book of

of adHbbing

Boys, young men, in the year 9,763 B.C. the world found

itself

The grass and grains on either bank of the

The Chinese, just beginning to feel
march. The Minoan civilization of Crete and

in a pecuUar state of stasis.

Iriwaddy were virtually

their oats,

were on the

extinct.

her colonies presented no threat to the other up-and-coming nations

of the world. The rudiments of every invention

already in existence.
for

unknown

such.

No

definite

iSo

The

arts flourished

ages in the past.

one knows

why

movements began

The

now known

everywhere,

principal reHgions

at this precise

to take place.

moment

as

were

they had

were such and

in history certain

In the East there was such


"THE STORY OP MY HEART
and such an alignment offerees
figure appeared

about

You

what

He

mean.

West

in the

Suddenly a

another.

almost nothing

except that he initiated a

this great figure,

see

named Hochintuxityscy

known

is

"

wave of new Ufe

. . .

could have drawn for us on that black-

map of the then world, and

map of the world as it is today. He could

board which was a perpetual vexation a

on

the rear blackboard a

have made some boxes, by means of

vertical

and in them placed a few saHent names,

He

our bearings.
branches

shown

and horizontal

dates, events

could have drawn a tree and on

the evolution of the

He

Umbs and

its

sciences, reHgions

arts,

metaphysical ideas throughout history.

lines,

to give us
and

could have told us that

with recent times history has become the metaphysics of history.

He

could have

differ

how and why the greatest of historians

He could have done something more, I say,
memorize names, dates, battles and so on. He could
shown

us

with one another.

than force us to

even have ventured to give us a picture of the next hundred years

or asked us to describe the

And so I say

did.

"

fiiture in

own

our

But he never

terms.

Damn him and all history books

**

From the

study of history, mathematics, Latin, English Uterature, botany,

physics, chemistry, art

and confusion.
but

From

have gotten nothing but anguish, desperation

four years in

remembrance

the

of the

High School

is all I

Our
no

Uttle episode

sense

Mr. MacDonald,

of humor and

question one day which

I

easily
I

school

the arithmetic class again. This

got out of eight years of primary instruction.

teacher,

of me,

^in

nothing

evoked by the

From grammar

reading of Ivanhoe and Idylls of the King.

remember only one

I retain

pleasure

fleeting

a gaunt,

It

was

this

sombre person with almost

given to anger, asked

me

was unable to answer. Being

a direct

rather fond

suppose, he took the pains of going to the blackboard and

explaining the problem thoroughly.

firactions.)

Henry, do you understand

which the

probably had to do with

" Now,
:

(It

When he had finished he turned to me and said

class

like the veriest idiot.

turned on the

"

And

burst into an uproar.

answered,

was

left

Suddenly, however,

class furiously

" Instead of laughing

I
I

at him,**

example fiom Henry. Here

is

**

No,

Upon

sir."

to stand there, feeling

this

Mr. MacDonald

and ordered the boys to be

he
a

said,

"

want you boys

boy who wants

the courage to say he does not understand.

to

quiet.

to take an

know. He has

Remember

this

And
i8i

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

try to

you

do

That

wounded pride,
moments
Or,

it

httle lesson

if I

" No,

am

know

that

sank deep.

not,

you understand when

All

have been able to

don't understand. Explain

my
my hfe, whether as a

not only salved

It

me true humiUty.

taught

of this or not,

result

of pretending

likewise, instead

don't."

asked a question which

cannot answer

really

say, in critical

again, if you will."

it

**

without blushing, without a sense of shame or guilt

don't

but

It is

in such

know

the answer."

moments

And what

we must

put ourselves in readiness to receive

know, however,

that there are people to

The answer

certain questions.
is

the

whole body of

is

whom

not in them

is

worse, do they

know how

to

one

after

always there,

We

it.

Among

whom we

instructors to

is

should

one must never put

these people

from

are deUvered

know

infancy hand and soul. These defmitely do not

Nor, what

to speak thus

is

The answer

has confessed his ignorance or inabiUty.

but

a reUef it

answer usually comes

that the real

can say

I'm sorry,

make

the answers.

us seek the answers

in ourselves.

" If the eye

always watching, and the mind on the

is

alert, ulti-

mately chance supphes the solution," says Jefferies. True. But what
is

here termed chance

Suddenly

something of our

is

recall the

" guest speaker "

Brown was our

school period.

name and

must speak of Dr.

own

at the close

Brown

felt

seat

that they

on

were

still

to begin,

would not

him

on wings of love. In

fluttering, his

the platform and

include

made ready

for a

in the

Brown always appeared,

category of nobodies mentioned above. Dr.

was about

Brown. Dr.

of every grammar

because

minute have him, dead or aHve, imagine that

just as vacation

creation.

presence of Dr.

wings,

when he

to say a

rose

few words.

fact,

you

from
It

his

was

as

though Dr. Brown knew each and every one of us intimately and

was enveloping us in his

all-enfolding mantle

forth with palpitating

warmth.

He had

of love. His words came

just returned,

it

always

seemed, from Asia, Africa or Europe, and he wanted us to be the

with

whom to

share his glorious experiences. That

sion he gave, and

loved boys.

have no doubt

What

office

he

it

of the church.

No

matter.

was genuine. He was a man who

filled I

have been a school superintendent

He was

no longer remember. He may

he was probably
a

also a

man, he had a big

he brimmed over with love. Nowadays

182

first

was the impres-

we

call

deacon

heart,

such talks

as

and
Dr.

"the story of my heart

gave " inspirational."

Brown

The

at will.

Dr.

effect

Men

of course

is

nil

are paid to turn

we

all

them on or

off

recognize the caricature.

Brown was a truly inspired individual. All that he had read, and
man of great culture, all he had seen on his trips round the

he was a

world, for he was a veritable globe-trotter, he had assimilated and

woven

He was Hke a well-soaked

One Httle squeeze of the fmgers and he oozed water. When

into the very texture of his being.

sponge.

he rose to speak he was so

moments he was unable

in

He was

directions at once.

all

full,

to begin.

good few

so charged, that for a

Once

mind sparked

launched, his

sensitive to the sHghtest pressure

he could detect instantly the nature of our longing, and respond to

it

immediately. In a quarter of an hour of this kind of communication

he " instructed " us as we had never been instructed during the weeks

and months of class. If he had been a teacher instead of our " guest
speaker" he would, undoubtedly, have been dismissed in short

He was

order.

from the

heart,

too big for the system

not the head.

spoke to us thus

even the

^not

for any system.

need hardly repeat

No,

pastor.

that

He

spoke

no one ever

the pastor emanated a

He
He was

kind of vague, prescribed love which was like milk and water.
really did

damn

not give a

about any one personally.

was damned

interested in saving souls (supposedly) but there

soul stuff in him. Dr.

He had

a sense

Brown

one

of humor, a grand sense of humor

always too short for us

bath.

When he

of hberation.

infalHble signs

^it

little

reached our souls through our hearts.

was

got through

we had

as if

^his

of the

speech was

been given a bubble

We were relaxed, refreshed, silky inside and out. What's more,

felt a courage unknown before, a new kind of courage

I might
felt brave before the
almost say a " metaphysical " courage.

we

We

world because the good Dr. Brown had given us back our kingship.

We were boys

men "

whose
tasks,

still

appetite for life

graphy"

is,

had

boys whose eyes

increased.

We

were ready for hard

may now resume my theme with

book which Richard
use the abused word once

a clear conscience.

" autobio-

httle

Jefferies calls his

to

again, an inspirational

In the whole of Hterature there are very few such works.

is

**

tasks.

that I

The

we were young
swam with visions,

never tried to pretend that

^he

we had become

vahant

I feel
.

^but

styled inspirational

is

not

at all

it is

what men who "

work.

Much that
specialize

"

183


BOOKS

THfi

would

in the subject

Never
is

MY

IN

LIFE

like us to believe

so.

is

One may

an inspiring writer.

not accept his thought in toto, but

one comes away from a reading of him

He

exalted.

takes

you

There are other men, such

who

purified, so to say,

day he would be muzzled,

as

and

you wings. He

to the heights, he gives

daring, very daring. In our

others)

mentioned Emerson.

my life have I met anyone who did not agree that Emerson

in

is

am certain.

Orage and Ralph Waldo Trine (among

are styled inspirational writers.

They have undoubtedly

The
t

been such to great numbers of people. But will they abide

reader

may

smile,

knowing

the sort of individual

even mention such a name

I

as

W.

R.

am,

Am

Trine.*

that
I

am not. To each his due. At certain stages of one's evolution

individuals stand forth as teachers.

should

mocking

certain

Teachers in the true sense

who open our eyes. There are those who open our eyes and
there are those who lift us out of ourselves. The latter are not interested in foisting upon us new beUefe but in aiding us to penetrate
those

reality

more

deeply, " to

make

of reaUty." They proceed fint by

science

thought, to the ocean of mind,

last

levelling all the super-

Second they point to something beyond

of thought.

structures

And

progress," in other words, " in the

let

us say, in

which thought swims.

they force us to think for ourselves.

example, in the midst of his confession

Now,

Says

Jeflferies,

for

exacdy the same

Written tradition, systems of
culture, modes of thought, have for me no existence.
If
ever they took any hold of my mind it must have been
very shght ; they have long ago been erased.
today, as

position as the

That
it

is

write, I stand in

An heroic utterance. Who can repeat

Who is there that even aspires to make such

a mighty utterance.

honesdy and sincerely

an utterance

had

Caveman.

Jeflferies tells

tried again

us towards the

end of his book

which had taken

possession

of him. Repeatedly he

wonder, for what he succeeded in giving us

though he

confesses

states that

* See
184

my

he

it

to be,

is

And no

almost a defiance of thought. Explain-

he got no further than to write

book Plexus for

failed.

finally, firagmentary

ing how, " imder happy circumstances," he did at

he

how

and again to put into written words the thoughts

a long burlesque

last

begin

down

(in 1880),

a few notes.

on In Tune with

the Injinite.

STORY OF MY HEART

**THE
" Even then," he

"

says,

could not go on, but

kept the notes

(I

former beginnings), and in the end, two years

afterwards, commenced this book." He speaks of it as " only a

had destroyed

all

Then he

fragment, and a fragment scarcely hewn."

think worth imderscoring

have put

scarcely

into

it

of its imperfections, for

ness

of my

own

"

Had

any shape
I

have

at

me

not made

aU

is

this I

could

am only too conscious

inabiHty to express this the idea of

and which

and

adds,

personal

it

were seventeen years of conscious-

as it

makes an

In this same small paragraph he

dear to

my life."
which

assertion

Speaking of the inadequacy of words to express ideas

very

is

the only stop that can be offered to

critics.

and by

this

he means, of course, ideas which lay beyond the habitual realms of

attempting

briefly to give his

thought
terms
still,

as soul, prayer,

he concludes

own meaning

to

its

own definition of such moot

immortaUty, and declaring these to be deficient

" I must leave my book as a whole to give its

words."

Perhaps the key to this amazing Httle book is the sentence which
runs thus : " No thought which I have ever had has satisfied my
soul."
soul's

The

story of his Hfe begins therefore with the realization

nought.

"Begin wholly

mense

forces

a god

is

and open a

wonder now

if

new

as

im-

go higher than

day."

Soimds

Lawrence ever read

like

JefFeries.

not only a similarity of thought but of accent and rhythm.

But then we find

rate,

straight to the sun, the

of the universe, to the Entity unknown

deeper than prayer

D. H. Lawrence.
There

Go

afresh.

of his

became

All that preceded this

hunger, his soul's quest.

whenever

this

same idiosyncrasy of speech, in English

we come upon

always exhorts us in short, staccato sentences.

transmitting telegraphically
utterly diflferent

from

rhythm from

The

an original thinker.
It is

of the prophets,

who

any

he were

as if

a distant, higher station.

that

at

iconoclast

an

It is

are filled

with woe and lamentation, with objurgation and malediction. Some-

how, whether we accept

our

feet

the

commands or

not,

we

are stirred

go through the motion of marching forward, our

heave, as if drawing in fresh draughts of oxygen, our eyes

chests
to

lift

capture the fleeting vision.

And now

let us

epitome of his

get to " the Fourth Idea,"

soul's longing.

He

which

is

rcaUy the

begins thus
185

THE BOOKS lU MV LIF

Three things only have been discovered of
concerns

inner

the

consciousness

since

that

before

which

written

Three things only in twelve thousand

history began.

dumb, dim time

Cavemen primeval wrested

written, or sculptured, years, and in the

Three

before then.

ideas the

from the unknown,

the night which is round us still in

dayUght the existence of the soul, immortality, the deity.
These things found, prayer followed as a sequential result.
Since then nothing further has been found in all the twelve
thousand years, as if men had been satisfied and had found
these to suffice. They do not suffice me. I desire to advance
further, and to wrest a fourth, and even still more than
a fourth, from the darkness of thought. I want more ideas
of soul-hfe. I am certain there are more yet to be found.
A great life an entire civilization Hes just outside the
pale of common thought. Cities and countries, inhabitants,
intelhgences, culture an entire civilization.
Except by

drawn from famiHar things, there is no way

of indicating a new idea. I do not mean actual cities,
actual civilization.
Such hfe is different from any yet
imagined. A nexus of ideas exists of which nothing is

illustrations

known

vast system of ideas

a cosmos of thought.
an Entity, a Soul-Entity, as yet unrecognized.
These, rudely expressed, constitute my Fourth Idea. It
is beyond, or beside, the three discovered by the Cavemen
it is in addition to the existence of the soul
in addition
to immortality
and beyond the idea of the deity. I
think there is something more than existence.

There

is

In the same decade in which Jefferies enunciates these ideas, or

better, this appeal for

Madame

new, deeper,

Blavatsky put forth

entered a labor so prodigious that

over them.

I refer

richer,

more encompassing

two astounding tomes

men

are

still

into

ideas,

which

cracking their skulls

to The Secret Doctrine and his Unveiled.

If they

accomplished nothing more, these two books, they certainly put

to rout the idea of the caveman*s contribution to our culture.

Drawing from every imaginable

source,

Madame

Blavatsky amasses

a wealth of material to prove the everlasting continuity of esoteric

wisdom. According to

by

side

with the

**

this

view, there never was a time

side

mean

superior in

Certainly superior to those

whom we

did not exist superior beings, and by superior

every sense of the word.

today consider

when

caveman," and even greatly anterior to him, there

as such.

Indeed,

it is

not even a question with her,

i86

_LJ

"THE STORY OF MY HEART

who

or those

hold with her, of isolated superior beings but rather of

whole great blazing

civilizations the existence

we do

of which

not

even suspect.

Whether JefFeries knew of such views and

not.

don't imagine

it

convinced that the only three ideas wrested from the

to us via the

know

unknown came

mages of forgotten epochs or via the cavemen,

as

he

can see him sweeping the whole glittering array of knowledge

says. I

He would

off the boards.

are

them

rejected

would have mattered any to him if he had been

we

all

have

still

be able to affirm that these three ideas

and what matter when they were put into circula-

by whom. What he strives magnificently to make us undermake us realize, make us accept, is that these ideas came from a

tion or
stand,

source which has never dried up and never will dry up

marking time, withering,

long

we

as

rest

up

that

we are

to death, so

content with these precious three and

swim back

effort to

ossifying, giving ourselves

make no

to the source.

with consuming wonder, awe and reverence for Hfe, never

enough of sea, air and sky, realizing " the crushing hope-

Filled

able to get
lessness

not

of books," determined to think things out for himself,

extraordinary consequently to find

at all

the span of

human

life

him

it is

declaring that

could be prolonged far beyond anything

we

imagine possible today. Indeed, he goes further, much further, and

hke a true man of spirit asserts that " death is not inevitable to the

He

man.

ideal

is

shaped for a species of physical immortaHty."

He

begs us to ponder seriously on what might happen " if the entire

human race were

united in their efforts to eliminate causes of decay."

few paragraphs

further

on he

says,

and with what

justification

The truth is, we die through our ancestors, we are

murdered by our ancestors. Their dead hands stretch forth
from the tomb and drag us down to their mouldering
bones.

We in our turn are now at this moment preparing

death for our unborn posterity.

This day those that die

do not die in the sense of old age, they are slain*

Every revolutionary

figure,

or the field of poHtics,

knows

!"

It is

Italics

mine.

afresh

the old, old cry.

whether in the
this

field

only too well.

But to

of religion

" Begin wholly

slay the ghosts

of the past

187

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

has thus far been an insuperable task for humanity. "

way of making
wonders whose way it is
an egg's

misfits, that

man

that causes

makes him, surrounded and invested

and

Imagine what

still is.

solitary

man

provoke from the

cruelty, to

from prison

his first release

is

lips

nothing any more

me

seems to

world which

so boring

men, and

seem

if I

produce the same

individual

is

more misanthropic than

One

by

is

the most

has

of the Marquis de Sade upon

"...

taste for

foolishly

am now

that

All

my

feelings

anything,

I like

so vvdldly regretted

and so dull ...

he

as

no more than he

almost thirteen years spent in

(afier

have no longer any

the

only

capable of, in his ignorance

confinement) these terrible words

arc extinguished.

is

to continue turning out

potent and divine powers, satisfied to remain

been and

A hen

another egg," said Samuel Butler.

have never been

have returned among

peculiar to others, diey can be assured that they

effect

on me ...

**

The

plaint

From

today voiced by millions.

of this unfortunate
quarters

all

of the

of distress. Worse, a wail of utter despair.

" When," asb Jefferies (in 1882 !), " will it be possible to be

globe there

rises

a wail

of

certain that the capacity

a single

atom has been exhausted

may reveal a fresh power."

Today we know and how shamefully we have utilized it
the
power which resides in the atom. And it is today more than ever
before that man roams hungry, naked, abandoned.
At any moment some

fortunate incident

" Begin

afresh !

East are at

last

Who

fear.

possesses

There

We

is

shake off the

the result

would hold them back.

enHghtenmcnt

effort to

And what

past.

a sentence in

is

from the page

" The East rumbles. Indeed, the people of the

making an heroic

bind them to the

tremble in

fetters

We

Where

which

of the West
is

progress

Jefferies* Httle

at least for

book which

literally

jumps

A reasoning process has yet to be

me. "

invented by which to go straight to the desired end."

To which state-

" Excellent indeed,

can hear the critical-minded objecting
but why doesnt he invent it ? " Now it is one of the virtues of the

ment

men who

inspire us that they always leave the

suggest, they stimulate, they point.

and lead

On

us.

are this very

end.

188

Now

the other

moment

hand

striving to

They do not

might say

show

us

way

take us

by

that there are

how

they are virtually unknown, but

They

open.
the

hand

men who

to accomplish this

when

the time

comes

"THE STORY OP MY HEART

We arc not drifting blindly, however mudi

they will stand revealed.

it

may seem

But perhaps

so.

thought here, for he has voiced

ought to give the whole of Jefferies*

it

in a

way which is

unforgettable

This hour, rays or undulations of more subtle mediums

doubtless pouring on us over the wide earth,
unrecognized, and full of messages and intelligence from
are

the unseen.*

who

Of these we

day

are this

as

ignorant

as those

painted the papyri were of Hght.

There is an infinity
of knowledge yet to be known, and beyond that an infinity
of thought. No mental instrument even has yet been
invented by which researches can be carried direct to the
Whatever has been found has been discovered
object.
by fortunate accident in looking for one thing another
has been chanced on. A reasoning process has yet to be
invented by which to go straight to the desired end. For
now the slightest particle is enough to throw the search
aside, and the most minute circumstance sufficient to
conceal obvious and briUiantly shining truths ... At
present the endeavor to make discoveries is Hke gazing
at the sky up through the boughs of an oak. Here a beautihere a constellation is hidden by
ful star shines clearly
a branch ; a universe by a leaf Some mental instrument
or organon is required to enable us to distinguish between
the leaf which may be removed and a real void ; when
to cease to look in one direction, and to work in another
... I feel that there are infinities to be known, but they
are hidden by a leaf ...
;

Or, as Claude Houghton

Take another tack
Begin afresh
" All Change^ Humanity ! ** Or, as Klakusch says, in The
Maurizius Case^ " Stop, world of humans, and attack the problem
!

says

from another angle

" Again and again a voice within us commands

us to get out of the rut, to leave bag and baggage, to change cars,

change direction.

Now

and then an individual obeys the

summons and undergoes what men

does a whole world Hft

itself

by

call

a conversion.

secret

But never

the bootstraps and take a leap into

the blue.

Things that have been miscalled supernatural appear

to

me

* Very

more natural than nature,

... It is matter which is the

simple, says Jefferies,

than earth, than sea or sun

close to Maeterlinck's thought, as voiced in

The Magic of the

Stars.

x89


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
supernatural, and difficult of understanding

Matter

beyond understanding, mysterious, impenetrable

I
touch it easily, comprehend it, no.
Soul, mind the

is

thought,
itself

the

and

is

idea

natural in truth,

understood,

easily

is

The

conscious.

To me

the real.

is

understands

it

supernatural miscalled, the

everything

is

super-

How strange that condition of mind which cannot

natural.

anything

accept

but

Without

the

the

earth,

sea,

the

tangible

misnamed supernatural these to

me seem incomplete, unfinished. Without soul all these are
dead. Except when I walk by the sea, and my soul is by it,
the sea is dead. Those seas by which no man has stood
by which no soul has been whether on earth or the
universe

the

planets, are dead.

No

how

matter

in space, unless a soul be there

Unless a soul he there

able to

planet

comprehend
is

it is

this

majestic the planet rolls

it is

dead.

The man of today should be better

him this

dead.

than Jefferies' contemporaries. For

virtually extinct already.

the

Around 1880 English noveUsts of imagination

writers

of " romances " began to introduce into their works the so-called
and miscalled " supernatural " element. Theirs was a revolt against
the fateful tendency
this

of the

generation are tasting.

What

is

the gap, in thought or feeling,

between these writers (today regarded

and our metaphysical

larger,

deeper,

more

who

scientists

significant

we of

of which

times, the bitter fruits

as ridiculous

and misguided)

struggle vainly to express a

view of the universe

It

is

common

observation nowadays that the man in the street accepts

the " miracles " of science in a matter of fact way. Every day of

his Hfe the

common man makes

use of

would have deemed miraculous means.

if not in powers

god than

at

never was he
gifts

of invention, the

any time in
less

godlike.

the past, has

zest,

He

most

We
190

we

man of today is nearer to

(So we like to beheve

accepts and
;

he

vitahty or joy.

no peace or

is

utilizes the

being a
)

Yet

miraculous

without wonder, without

He draws no

conclusions

satisfaction in the present,

unconcerned about the future.

the

in other ages

his history.

of science unquestioningly

awe, reverence,

what men

In the range of invention,

He is marking

time.

and

is

That

from

utterly

is

about

can say for him.

must, however, also say

this

^his

conception

of time, and of

"THE STORY OF MY HEART

with other deeply embedded notions, such

space, together

good work,

sacred doctrine of causaHty, the

duty and so forth, have been killed

^r

him by the

is

left

of the universe he was

every bit of it, and

it

will

bom

Yet

into.

accompany him

as

Not

of thinking.

Precious
all

it is

there,

he journeys backward

Not

His concepts only have been altered.

or forward.

the

scientist,

philosopher, the inventor, the big boss and the miUtarist.

httle

the

as

purpose,

progress,

his

way

thinking faculty, or his thinking powers.

his

immune and impervious

He is not participating,
he is being dragged along by the scalp. He initiates nothing, unless
What an image he presents, modem man
it be more reaction.

To

the most baffling degree he remains

round and about him.

that happens

to

all

frightened and bewildered, a confused and bedeviled wretch,

being dragged by the scalp,

where

all is

as I said, to

some

high,

awesome

and shuddering, he will be sent hurtling into the void.

and thus only, that

see

How

and wisdom.
doors

else

him

could

be

it

himself has locked

all

he himself has
thus dignify him) to be flung into " the cauldron

we may

of rebirth."

He

It is thus,

arcanum of truth

entering the great

he himself has kicked away

elected (if

place

about to be revealed to him, but where, whimpering

all

ignominious

Sublime,

supports

Punishment and

spectacle.

salvation in one.

What, we

ask,

could or would constitute a " miracle

in this supine state

fate

Would

it

Would

for

be a miracle to spare him

it

be a miracle

**

if,

just as

man

his just

he were going over the

does modem man exway of miracles The only miracle I can

possibly think of would be for him to beg, at the last moment, for a

brink, his eyes

were suddenly opened? What

pect, if anything, in the

chance to begin afresh.

Is it

not baffling that

in concrete reaHty,

or planets even

this species

of

man who

believes so soHdly

and only in concrete reaHty, can

more

distant, as

talk

of the moon,

though they were only points of

departure in his imminent physical exploration of the universe

that

starry spheres or,

what

is

more

curious, think

himself against possible invasion by them

himself abandoning
life

he can think of communicating with unknown beings in the

somewhere

this planet

of

that

how

to defend

he can

Earth and taking up a

visualize

new mode of

in the heavens, and realize (mentally, at least) that

191

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

such a change of residence would alter his physical age, structure

and being, would make him over so completely, in

would be unrecognizable

to himself

him

such thoughts do not terrify

short, that

not baffling,

Is it

^neither

he

that

I say,

uprooting from his

native planet, nor change of time, rhythm, metabolism, nor acquaint-

ance with beings

And

far, far

and

yet, yes

stranger than any he has ever imagined

him

yet, to get

to love and respect his neighbor,

to endeavor to understand his fellow

man, to share with him

his

and sorrows, to get him to make provision for

possessions, his joys

progeny, to eUminate enmity, rivalry, jealousy, to create and

his

respect a

few simple laws

for

and enjoy

for a bare existence

his

own

welfare

to cease struggling

Hfe, to concentrate

on

the eHmination

(not just the cure) of disease, old age, misery, loneliness

many, many

things

to get him to welcome new

frightened of them, to get

intolerance and

all

him

to

ideas

oh,

throw off superstition, bigotry,

the other bogus claims

which have him by the

throat ... no, towards these vital ends he refuses stubbornly to

He would

a single step.

would

rather

so

and not be

walk out on

his true

make

problems,

and his fellow creatures. Could

" renegade ** ?
Is it any wonder that, anticipating
the advent of his glorious " new day " in the bosom of the stellar
rather desert the planet

there be a worse

deep, he

is

already filled with dread that his

coming

resent his

What,

after

all,

tells

his heart speaks differently.

order,

are one,

Perhaps nowhere

been expecting the approach of this dread event.

swarms of habitable

Et

again.

be

at all

elle

welcome

heaven within,
there

is

So

at least

a raison

planets are there beings filled

Marie CoreUi conjectures again and

No, such

as

we

in these starry abodes.

it is

a certainty

the possibility

with

ignorance and insensitivity of our

the conceit, pride, arrogance,

earthly creatures.

is of another
" they " have

Perhaps there where time

where atmosphere and ambiance

in the vast

may

neighbors

What but disaster and ruin.

unknown worlds
him he is superior to these otherworld creatures, but

denizens of these yet

His pride

new

can he possibly bring the

we

are today,
If

we

will not find

z desperate,

we may

not

have not found

it

without.

almost forlorn hope

But
that,

having caught a gHmpse " out there " of order, peace and harmony,

we who
afresh.

192

call ourselves

men will

recoil to this hell

on

earth and begin

THE STORY OP MY
All through great literature runs the idea

Whatever man
he

flings his

have not the

weary body,

end he comes home, home to

in the

moon

will

soon become

distant reahns

Between man and

his desires, in

being rolled up, like a carpet.

the brief interval ahead, there

may quite

possibly be

we would

to point the needle to the place

selves there

instantaneously.

no

desire

it,

and

it

not

mind can make

The

will be thus.

history of human thought

this truth.

refuses to beHeve, or dares not beUeve, that things

about in

Mind which
At

himself

He

makes wings, but he

Thought, however,
contains
this

very

and

all,

all,

is

it is

The man of today Hves

The tail of this monstrous

comet.

on

already

is

still

refuses

the wing.

" to

The

winging him on ahead of

is

moment man

in thought than in being that

self.

At present

may come

Between the thought and the goal he cushions

this fashion.

himself with inventions.

take wing."

of time.

may discover

be in and fmd our-

If the

and of human accomplishments corroborates

man

lapse

We have only to learn how. We have

the leap, so can the body.

only to

Why

Time

factor.

Like Franz WerfeFs characters in Star of the Unborn,* we

how

fact I

The voyage to more

long. Time is no longer a

slightest doubt.

will also be realized before

is

of the circuitous voyage.

out to find, to v/hatever point in time or space

sets

That the voyage to the

himself.

HfiAftT

so infinitely farther ahead

is

as if

in the

he were distended, like a

tail

of

his

own

comet-like

distended self works havoc as

it

new and utterly unpredictable realms. One part

of man longs for the moon and other seizable worlds, never dreaming
through

passes

that another part

more

of him

already traversing

is

more

mysterious,

spectacular realms.

Is it

that

man must make

coming home to himself?

symboHc

the circuit of the

whole heavens before

Perhaps he must repeat the

Perhaps.

of the great dragon of creation

act

twine and intertwine, until

at last

coil

and

he succeeds in putting

twist,
tail

in

mouth.

The
of

true

symbol of infinity

fulfillment.

will

he find

Aye,

And

is

fiilfillment

the full circle.

is

man's goal

It is also

Only

the

symbol

in fulfillment

reality.

we must go

where and nowhere

* The Vikiag Prws.

full

swing.

at the

New

Howewhere is it if not everyWhen he is in possession of

same time

York, 1946.

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

his soul, then will

man be

fully aUve, caring

and knowing nothing of

To

begin wholly afresh

A
A

letter

from

nothing for immortaHty

death.

may mean coming aUve

at last

Note on Eugene Sue

Pierre Lesdain of Belgium offers the following about

Eugene

Sue
" Vous m'avez demand^ des 6claircissements sur Eugene Sue.
Je ne suis
pas un lecteur assidu de Sue
j'ai lu Les Mysteres de Paris, dans ma tendre
jeunesse et puis, jamais plus rien. Void la liste des livres d'Eugene Sue
:

Kernock

le Pirate,

Plick et Plock,

1830

83

Atar-Gull, 1831

La
La

Salamattdre, 1832
Vigie de Koat-Ven, 1833

Arthur, 1833
Historic de la Marine frangaise (5 vols.), 1835
Cicile,

1835

Latre'aumont (2 vols.), 1837

Jean Cavalier (2 vols.), 1840

Deux

Histoires,

1840

Le Marquis de Litorikre
Le Morne au Diable (2 vols.), 1840
Mathilde (6 vols.), 1841
Le Commandeur de Malte, 1841
Les Mysteres de Paris (lo vols.), 1842-43
Pauli Monti, 1842
Thirise Dunoyer, 1842
Le Juif Errant (10 vols.), 1844-45
Martin ou V Enfant trouvi, 1847
Le Ripuhlicain des Campagnes, 1848
Le Berger de Kravan
Les Sept Pe'che's Capitaux (16 vols.)
Les Mysteres du Peuple, ou, Histoire d'unefamille a
Les Enfants de V Amour (6 vols.), 1852
Fernand Duplessis (6 vols.)
Le Marquis d'AmalJi (2 vols.), 1853

travers les ages (16 vols.)

Gilbert et Gilberte (7 vols.), 1853

La famille Jouffroy (7 vols.), 1854

Le Fils de Famille (7 vols.), 1856
Les Secrets de VOreiller (7 vols.), 1858
Cette liste est etourdissante, elle me domie le vertige. Et que reste-t-il
de I'oeuvre, immense, quant au poids-papier des volumes et k leur nombre,
qui temoigne d'une luxuriance tropicale ? II n'en reste rien. A peine le
nom de I'auteur, nom predestine, qui provoque k la plaisanterie facile.
Mais on ne lit plus rien d'Eugfene Sue. II est dans le domaine public, et
aucun journal ne pense jamais i reprendre un de ses romans comme feuilleton.
Avant la guerre de 1940, je ne sais plus tres bien quel ^crivain Suisse de
(L'anc^tre
talent
a voulu publier un " condens6 " des Mystires de Paris.
la parole de
des " condenses," peut-fitre.)
Sans succes, je crois.

I'Eccl^siaste

194

"THE STORY OF MY HEART

Car Eugene Sue de son vivant a connu la gloire comme peu d'^crivains
au monde, une gloire tapageuse, vine gloire d'idole de la foule. On raconte
qu'Eug^ne Sue, garde national, comme tout autre citoyen en ce temps 1^,
ne s'6tait pas pr6sent6 pour prendre son tour de faction. Condamnation
automatique. Pour sc venger I'ecrivain refuse de donner au journal la
suite de celui de ses romans qui y passait en feuilleton et que les lecteurs
attendaient avidement. II y a presque une petite ^meute k Paris et le Ministre
d'Eug^ne Sue.
eu r^ellement une influence sur Balzac et Dostoievski ?
le prouver serait beaucoup plus long.
Le succes d'Eugene
C'est tres vite dit
Sue a incite peut-6tre Balzac et Dostoievski k situer leurs romans dans les
milieux semblables k ceux dont Eugene Sue exploitait les particularit6s et
la nouveaute, en ce temps li. Les personnages du roman, fran^ais, jusqu'alors,
etaient factices, d'imagination pure, crees par jeu
comme Gil Bias qui
n'a rien de specifiquement espagnol ... II y a sur cette classe de la societ6
des romans d'une psychologie aigiie et profonde tels La Princesse de Cloves,
ou bien Les Liaisons Dange'reuses, mais il fallait, comme Madame de La Fayette
ou Choderlos de Laclos, avoir ete " nourri dans le serail " pour en " connaitre
doit lever la punition

Eugene Sue

a-t-il
;

les

detours."

n'est pas un romancier profond. II a une imagination debordante, c'est quelque chose, bien sur, mais pas assez pour venir frapper a la
L'imagination d'Eugene
porte de la posterite, confiant qu'eUe I'ouvrira.

Eugene Sue

Sue qui frappait si fort ses contemporains, nous fait sourire souvent et,
La fin du fin pour Eugene Sue etait
quelquefois, franchement eclater.
d'amener dans un roman, le plus frequemment qu'il se pouvait, un genre
de dissertation morale, ce qu'il appelait ses utopies. Par exemple : on nc
devrait plus executer les

condamnes

preferable de leur percer

intolerable et crispant
il

serait

les

mort
yeux.

pour les chatier de leurs crimes,

Le proc^de a la longue devient

mort en 1857. Son pere etait medecin

;
I'imperatrice Josephine fut sa marraine.
II abandonnc ses etudes avant la
rhetorique ; etudie la medecine sous son pere, qui le fait embarquer comme
chirurgien k bord d'un bateau. (Les premieres oeuvres litteraires d'Eugene

Eugene Sue

est

ne en 1804

Sue sont maritimes.) Son pere lui laissa en mourrant une fortune d'un million
."
(francs de I'epoque). Je ne sais pas si Eugene Sue en fit un bon usage
.

195

XII
LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN
May

My

dear Pierre Lesdain

The

idea has occurred to

most welcome

book about books which

my

of

You

are

**

often

for

**

you

is

no one

to

my

book

early days,

attack

you

hand or under your arm.

in

head

before, the reason I

I

am

nourishes, stimulates

volume

down
is

now

since I

seething with thoughts.

of the books

in

now

my

it

know
more

your love,

when

think

always see you with

am

now

certain

that

book by

am

may have

in a continual state

mosdy

me.

seems

my

have written anything, and

As

Originally

as if it will

notebook a few more

task, this

explained to

of bubble

because

planned to write a slim

be a

fat

tides

tome.

which

titles

Each day

I recollect.

exhuming from

of memory a few new

is

you

Everything

old favorites.

rereading

an exciting feature of my

able reservoir

are

larval

same time.

over two weeks

is

you

often reading the same author, if not the same

that author, at the

It is

my

Indeed, as I discover through

reading your weekly column in Volonti*

we were

me

gives

it

reveal

Often,

think of you, and

into this
this letter

enthusiastic readers

not your rancor, envy, spite or jealousy.

back to

whom

are often "against," but

When you

the author.

you

why

is

thoughts, particularly

one of the most

In your reviews

That

writing.

There

greater pleasure to impart

your lengdiy and

lince reading

20th, to incorporate

am

begins as of page 196 ..

thoughts.

me,

of April

letter

3rd, 1950

daily.

jot

This

the imfathom-

Sometimes

it

two or three days for a book which is in the back of my head,

or on the tip of my tongue, to announce itself completdy author,
title, time and place.
Once it becomes " fixed " in my memory,
takes

up.

196

weekly newspaper from Brusseb. Since

this

was written

it

has folded

IBTTBR TO PIERRE LBSDAIN

of associations crowd in and open up undreamed of realms

all sorts

my

of

dim

Thus

past.

have already written what

Gil Bias

hangs a

one of the books

is

for me,

and

tale,

had

at least

the

who

tale is

always

intrigue

me

have heard and read about them, because their

yet

cannot read their works.

is

against, excites

read very Httle of

much
I

him

most important

even though

Incidentally,

i)

had read and those

all I

lives interest

me,

have actually
read without

this Uttle I

beHeve in him, so to speak.

one of the

writer, a great figure, and

I

am

going to write about him,

never read the whole of him.

to

of so-called
I

this

read about him,

enormously.

may amuse you

difficulty recalling the tides

those

me

bom.

I shall

it

important

as

because of

one, and the author of

Everything

Nevertheless,

tragic wretches ever

naturally,

has

is

he has written, and

all

pleasure or profit.

think

most

Stendhal

the Marquis de Sade.

whether for or

are sending.

But perhaps the superb example in

Tristram Shandy another.

respect

to say about Gil

me you

tell

never read but about which there

There are authors

book.

as the

little I

copy you

Bias before ever receiving the

**

know

(Who

had great

that I

obscene " works, both

had only heard about.

This

one

is

branch of literature with which I am only faindy acquainted. But

" branch " of Hterature or is it another category of misnomers i
is it a

Here

is

volume of

random thought

Elie Faure

en passant.

and again, in speech and in writing,

indebtedness to this great individual.

on him, but
I

doubt that

will,

I
I

All

life

my

can,

any more than

There are some authors

and too close to you.

You

who

never Uberate

Impossible to

tell

and work separate or diverge from thein.

inextricably interwoven.

when I thiiJc of certain names, that my life began afiresh

number of times. Doubdess because each time I rediscovered,
It

is

own

up a
Time

ought to write a panegyric

yourself fi:om the thrall of their enchantment.

where your

pick

conflict.

have made mention of

doubt that

can for Dostoievsky or Whitman.

are at once too grand

Each time

undergo a great emotional

seems,

through the instrumentality of these divine

being.

You

in Nietzsche and in
this

interpreters,

my own

speak of having immersed yourself for three years

him

with any author.

alone.

understand, though

never did

But can you read Nietzsche today with

197

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

the

same fervor

Ah,

there's the miracle

Whoso

power

has the

more and more deeply each time we read him is indeed

no matter what his name, rank or status be. This is a

to aiFect us
a master,

thought which recurs

for instance, that if

one book

meaning of

the

were

to pick

would be "finished"

mean

it

you

regard

up an old
tion

am

this

am certain,

(I

the
am

Birth of Tragedy

beheve

What

for the day.)

undying enthusiasm for so many authors

this

ask this frequently of myself

Does

authors.

up The

have reread more than any other,

certain, I say, that I

is

my favorite

reread

as I
I

naive

Does

What

weakness

mean I have not " evolved "

Whatever

the answer,

And

as a singular blessing.

favorite, I should also

from another of my

it

happen to find

great favorites, then

in his

if,

assure

in picking

book

my joy is

a quota-

unbounded.

Only yesterday, in glancing through The Dance Over Fire and

Water* this happened to me. On page six I found this from Walt
Whitman " The world will be complete for him who himself
:

"

And on page

complete."

is

You

And

they are divine.

proud

it

that

as

all

was an American who spoke thus

One of

the reasons

authors at length

is

why

say that

who

my

give Hfe, but

life,

that

am

!)

cannot write about these favorite

because

first

and

come from you, can

once in

say, for

divine

not they

it is

from Whitman

this, also

say that they have

come again from you, and

you who give hfe." (May

them

eighty-four

look upon Bibles and rehgions

cannot refrain from quoting

copiously, second because they have muscled so deep into

my very

fibres that the

their language.

It is

moment I begin talking about them I echo

much that I am ashamed of " plagiariz-

not so

ing " the masters as that

my own

voice.

am

fearful

of ever being able to recover

Due to our slavish reading, we

so many voices, that rare indeed

carry within us

the man who

own voice. In the final analysis, is that
Whatiota of uniqueness which we boast of as " ours " really ours
ever real or unique contribution we make stems from the same

so

many

entities,

can say he speaks with

is

his

inscrutable

source

whence everything

nothing but our understanding, which

acceptance.

However,

models of which there

*By
I?8

Elie Faure.

since
is

no

we

are

all

derives.
is

We

contribute

way of sayingour

modelled upon previous

end, let us rejoice if occasionally

we

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

sound

who can
And now to
your

raised in

my

you from
mail

more than

say nothing

...

letter

cannot

you how

tell

issues
I

was

made use of the citation I sent

John Cowper Powys. In the same

old " master,"

of Combat

Soon

preface to Visions and Revisions.

quoting firom the

also

hope

of Powys' books of interpretation, which

I

delighted

so speedily have

find the hterary editor

Om."

**

few moments on the many

concentrate a

you should

that

resound like those utterly emptied

like the glorious ones,

beings

am

you one

to find for

sure

you

will enjoy.

suppose he was never translated into French. To the French it

The
doubtless seem like " bringing coals to Newcastle."

would

make a long deferred obeisance,

Had EHe Faure
summoned the courage to approach his

other day, to gladden his heart and to

I

him

addressed

been

alive

You
where

when

would

office, I

is

tr^ cher grand maitre."

I finally

doubtless have knelt at his feet

few authors

and

for

lasting ones,

must

**

At

this

True enough, though

usually discover.

first

reactions,

(To discover

affection or reverence,

our original

cannot

attitude.

It is

recall a single great

hke

author

my definition^whom I have been deceived

I wander among my idols, the more
my adoration. No deceptions. Particularly

and

that,
this

lasting

once

seems

of " boys* authors." No, the astonishing thing to

my

allegiance

because loyalty

is

was given,

book

How

can

pecuHar

trait

(devotion

(hypothetically)
I

to

And why

diary, begin to perceive

to record the progress

several occasions

how

grow

ever finish testifying

song of love

loyal.

me

remark

unworthy of

altogether

remain, where authors are concerned,

It is this

remained

not one of my strong points. The excep-

are absolutely unimportant,

tions

on

hand.

however, that there are always a

moment

true

this

his

great " according to

in the realm

this

and kissed

emotions, the

whom, once we have lost our

Indeed, the further back

we

confess,

in.

on

first

are never again able to retrieve

a loss of grace.

is

The

a transitory phase.

to recover.)

mon

one's early idols are concerned.

are the true

we

"

speak of having to conquer the sentiment of " revolt,"

think this

is

as

**

adoration

How

i)

which

can
I,

of one's inner voyage.

I

causing

ever put an end to

who

have never kept a

tempting and compelling

swore that

is

astonishing proportions.

to

should I ?

note.

the constant lover."

I,

is

the desire

moreover,

who

was through with books, went

199

: :

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

become a manual worker, worse than

SO far once as to

clodhopperthinking

veritable

thus

(fatuously)

to

that

overcome

the disease.

The
I

other night, rereading The Story of

came

by her

across the following lines

My Life by
teacher,

Helen Keller,

Anne Mansfield

SulUvan

" Reading,

think, should be kept independent

pure dehght of
his

of the regular

Children should be encouraged to read for the

school exercises.

[Bravo

it.

!]

The

attitude

books should be that of unconscious

of the child towards

receptivity.

works of the imagination ought to become a part of

they were once of the very substance of the

She adds

"

Too

often,

talk

great

men who wrote them."

think, children are required to write

Teach them to think and read

before they have anything to say.

and

The

his life, as

without self-repression, and they will write because they

cannot help
In giving

it.'*

it

as

her opinion that

*'

children will educate themselves

under right conditions," that what they require are

sympathy

far

seau's Entile^

more than

instruction," she

and again when

came

made me

*'

guidance and

diink of

across the following

Rous-

pass^e on

language

Language grows out of

At

my

life,

out of

its

needs and

mind was

all but
She had been living in a world she could not
realize.
Language* and knowledge are indissolubly connected
they are interdependent. Good work in language
presupposes and depends on a real knowledge of things.
As soon as Helen grasped the idea that everything hacTa
name, and that by means of the manual alphabet these
names could be transmitted fi-om one to another, I proceeded to awaken her further interest in the objects wnose
names she learned to spell with such evident joy. / never
taught her language for the purpose of teaching it ; but
invariably used language as a medium for the communication o( thought
thus the learning of language was coincident
with the acquisition of knowledge. In order to use language
intelligently, one must have something to talk about, and
having something to talk about is the result of having had
experiences
no amount of language training will enable

experiences.

first

Httle pupil's

vacant.

aoo

Italia

throughout

this passage are

Miss Sullivan's own.

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

OUT

children to use language with ease and fluencv

little

have something clearly in

unless they

they wish to communicate, or unless

know what

ing in them a desire to

minds which

their

we succeed in awakenminds of

in the

is

othen.

me

All diis leads

finished the study

years ago.
I

am

But

to

your question about Lawrence

of him which

first let

me

began in

reply to the other question

was too close when

it

too began

never

whether
Perhaps

Yes, indeed.

began writing that magnum

as a

The publisher
me if I would not

"small" volume.

of the Tropic of Cancer^ Jack Kahane, had asked

write for him a hundred pages or so on " my great

D. H. Lawrence.

Like the present book on which

opus The World of Lawrence.

engaged,

why

some seventeen

Paris

not closer to Lawrence than to Joyce.

too close, or rather

am

His thought was to bring out

this

**

favorite,"

plaquette

"

before issuing the Cancer book, the publication of \^^ich had been

held up, for one reason and another, for three years or more.
idea

By

was

certainly not to

the time I

but

liking,

had written a hundred pages

of Lawrence's work
trees.

my

that I could

There remain of

this

The

grudgingly consented.

was so deep in the study

no longer

sec the forest for the

abortive effort at least several hundred

finished pages.

There are a few hundred more which need revision,

and there

of course, voluminous

are,

together to frustrate the completion

things

worked

one, the urgent

on with my own story two, the confiision which

my mind as to what indeed Lawrence did actually represent.

desire to get

arose in

Two

notes.

of this work

" Before a

man studies Zen,"

are mountains

says Ch*ing-yuan,

and waters are waters

after

the truth of Zen, through the instruction of a

" to him mountains

he gets an insight into

good master, mountains

him are not mountains and waters are not waters but
when he really attains to the abode of rest, mountains
to

more mountains and waters

are waters."*

after this,

are once

Something of the

sort

Today he is once again

beginning, but knowing this, and being sure of

appHes to any approach to Lawrence.

what he was
it, I

in the

no longer

feel the

interpretative studies

* From Zen, by Alan

need to

air

my

of authors so

W. Watts

views.

vitally

All these critical and

important (to us) are

James Ladd Delkin, Stanford,

California,

1948.

201

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

made

in

own

our

Our labors only serve to make

Our subjects seldom need our

interest, I believe.

us better understand ourselves.

Usually they are dead by

defense or our brilliant interpretations.

the time

we

As

get to them.

for the pubHc, I

convinced that " they " too need

tion

it is

more important,

As

for Joyce,

certainly

was influenced by him.

My

obviously.

for

them

and more

or instruc-

to struggle

on

which

attracts

me

When

He

in this field.
It is

of

writer.

is

yet

Joyce's gift for language

It is

pointed out in the essay called

however, Joyce remains the giant

" monster."
is virtually a

he

find, to distinguish the real

my

have done

will point out influences

and will discount other influences which

mentioned in your

The Rime of

letter

work

is

man

from

the

utmost to acknowledge

only too well that in appraising

I realize

come

author of that

Certainly

more with Lawrence,

*I prefer the language of Rabelais to

no equal

has

very, very difficult,

the writers to

affinity

all's said,

imaginary influences.
all influences,

indebted to him.

my

to him, but, as

The Universe of Death,"

of Joyce.

am

But

antecedents are the romantic, demonic, confes-

sional, subjective types

that

do beHeve,

am more

less assistance

own.

their

"

and

less

which
have

my work

have ignored

stressed.

the Ancient Mariner.

seldom speak about.

You
The

read this

work in school, of course, together with The Lay of the Last Minstrel.
are among the few books I enjoyed reading in school, I will
teU you. But the book I remember best, from school days, the book

They

which seems to have

I

have never reread

King Arthur

left

it, is

Only

an indelible impression upon me, though

Tennyson's

Idylls

The

of the King.

the other day, in reading a letter

by

reason

the famous

Gladstone to Schhemann, the discoverer of Troy and Mycenae,

I

noticed that he spoke of

an age of

faith,

SchHemann

an age of chivalry.

capable, practical-minded business

the

whole gang of flatulent "

love of and belief in

Homer.

one, because whenever

a flame Hghts

up

in

me.

belonging to another age,

man, did more for history than

historians."

All because of a youthful

mention Gladstone's

touch upon the words

I

said a

*From The Cosmological Eye,

Editions Poetry London, London.
202

as

Certainly this man, this very

moment ago

New

faith,

that

Directions,

letter,

a noble

youth, chivalry,

my
New

true arboreal

York,

193 8.

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

was such and

descent

this species

of writer

But what

such.

The

is it

When

and deed.

hterature of imagination

King Arthur

think of a world which

from

think of

sight

because in

Today

it

girl

And

inflamed

is

aHve though sunk

indeed, as the real, the eternal world,

it,

by

me

this leads

world of Arthur's time belonged

as if this

exclusively to the scholar, but

or

sustains

mention the name

still

is

and

In a word, the

imagination and deed are one, love and justice one.

would seem

it

that nourishes

heroic, the legendary

it

to say

how

boy

resuscitated each time a

is

contact with

it.

who

woefully mistaken are those

beheve that certain books, because universally acknowledged as

" masterpieces," are the books which alone have power to inspire

and nourish

Every lover of books can name dozens of

us.

which, because they unlock

reahty, are for

him

the golden books.

made of these by

is

for the

We
acts

man who

do not
;

learns as

two

who

matters not

awaken

The wise man,

much from

from

Nor

the fabliaux.

books from the

book on

Gilles

list

we

should

be forever

man, the true

the holy

of us

since each

others and does in fact

do

so,

scholar,

Good Book.

grateful if

Which reminds me

literature.

the criminal, the beggar, the whore, as he does

would indeed be

tales

authorities

opens our eyes by what authority he

the saint, the teacher, or the

I

what evaluation

by pundits and

his credentials.

in turn to

often unwittingly.

Yes,

It

critics,

touched to the quick by them they are supreme.

is

not demand

power

has the

titles

because they open his eyes to

and reverent towards our benefactors,

grateful

from

and

scholars

ask of one

we do

his soul,

you would

that,

although

compiled, no one has yet sent

There are

certain

good

whom

am

names one almost

The

never encounters in our Hterary weeklies.

me

this

many

have received

de Rais or on Saladin, two figures in

tremendously interested.

one or

translate

have read almost nothing of

great difference

between European Hterary weeklies and American ones

lies

in the

emptiness with regard to Hterary names and events which characterizes

them.

In European weekHes the void

with constellations

is

clustered or spangled

in a single column, for instance,

of Le Goeland

(published in Parame-en-Bretagne) one can run across a dozen

or

more

we

never hear of

celebrated names, both past and contemporary,

Even

in Volonte,

which

is

not a

strictly

which
Hterary

203

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFB

periodical, I find articles

about men, books, events that

mention of in our papers or reviews. In the days when

sec

in the financial district of

Company

I recall

what

the elevated train at the

New

In those days

The

in this country

for the Everlasting Cement

it

was,

made

as I

Brooklyn Bridge, to

we

had

of stairs the

at least

two

my way

to

up

at

see stacked
latest issue

Today

on without

the

word about

Transition in

whose pages

Gottfiied

But

can never

Benn.

come back

to

is

can

discovered

most exciting new foreign names, among them one

forget

there

Nor

not one good magazine in the whole bloody country.

pass

of Sim-

excellent magazines

Review and The Dial.

Little

never

worked

York

a pleasure

the foot of that interminable flight

pUcissimus.

to Saladin

and

de Rais, than

Gilles

whom

two more opposite types I have inquired

of our libraries as to what books are available concerning them
and I have gathered a few titles, mostly by English or American
there could hardly be

These

authors.

books

titles,

however, do not

eminendy American.

am

most

that the
I

serious studies

do not want

had to choose,
of this strange

also

want

am

book about
I

Since childhood

Now,

still

searching for,

remember

Jidda

la

104

as I

If

my

ought to add

Do you know
unique

bewilderment

had never experienced.

fleeting references to the

early past,

Bretonne

me

I feel

that

Monsieur Nicolas and Les Nuits de

these either.

book about Restif by an American

he has written

affinities

presume

again.

As for Restif de

this altogether

my extreme

have stumbled only upon

with the reopening of

it

the Children's Crusade.

remember reading about

Parisno one has yet sent

now

so

for scholarly

CathoHc inquiry into the workings

accompanied by a feeling of pain such

must look into

the

have been made by the psychoanalysts.

prefer a

episode in history as a child

subject.

much

searching not so

is

soul.

of a good one

day

up

a psychoanalytical study of Gilles de Rais.

would

Speaking of the books

that

to look

In the case of Gilles de Rais,

as for poetic interpretation.

But

me

incite

they have that immediate, sensational appeal which

me several letters

between the author of the

telling

Tropics

am

expecting any

attache stationed in

me of the remarkable

and

this singular

French

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

You

writer.
this

how

can imagine

curious

am

to savor the blood of

strange creature.

In addition to books

do want
of the

titles

received

author
ville

in fact,

it

One

listed.

when

a boy.
it

odd

forty

the face of

my

not a

It is

large as

my

is,

life,

brilliant

work

in

must say

my

(the author

is

G. Man-

photo which

no wise disappointing or

deceptive.

Henty "

with a good massive head, flowing beard 4

man, a big broad nose, almost Russian, and a frank,

Though

that

favorite

of gazing upon

that the

dear Henty (he was always just "

gaze to his countenance.

that

afforded me, after waiting

It

years, the excruciating pleasure

beloved author.
is

many

pounced on immediately

that I

serves the purpose.

serves as the frontispiece

There he

for, I receive

must have received about two-thirds

was a biography of George Alfred Henty,

Fenn) but

some

have not asked

by now

to me),

la

Whit-

genial, kindly

they do not resemble one another,

he nevertheless reminds me strongly of another idol. Rider Haggard.

They belong to the " manly " side of British men of letters. Rugged,
stalwart, honest
selves, fair

and honorable men, quite

and upright in

many pursuits
soHd bulwarks, as we say.

besides writing

interested in

variety

and scope of

From an

about them-

reticent

their dealings, capable in

active

many

In demeanor and deportment, in the

their activities, they

saw

early age they both

the

had much in common.

rough

side

of Ufe. Both were

great travellers, spent considerable time in remote places.

in their

they wrote

and prodigiously, they devoted much time

fast

and

to the accumulation, preparation

They both had

too,

the

**

more immersed

in

on reaching middle

Henty

but he was

probably regarded

is

secretaries,

a writer

known
as

And both had

(How

they dictated their books.

at all

to

a certain affluence,

the

good fortime

or amanuenses, to

envy them

who may

that

to

whom

!)

not be

known

to

you

American and English boys, and was

highly by them as Jules Verne, Fenimore

Cooper, Captain Mayne Reid or Marryat.

a

their material.

They possessed imaginaYet no men were sterner

Both enjoyed

life.

Hfe.

be aided by very capable

I realize that

of

analysis

chronicler " strain.

and intuition to a high degree.

realists,

Even

methods of work they had a great many points in common.

Though

tion

ways,

men, good,

few of Fenn's observations about

this

man

let

me

quote you

Henty,

his

work, and

But

205

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

They

the reasons for his great success.

boy, he

become

states,

man and

great success of

strike a

read what

men do and have

George Henty's works. They are

and he [Henty] used to say that he wanted

youth

^he

explains

books

Which

good

health

**

he was building up a

by

enlisting

behalf the suffrages of that great and powerful

buyers of presents

body

who

on their
body of

has the selection of their

meant our boys'

gifts.

who, in
would come upon some

is

instructors,

conning the publishers' hsts,

famous name for the hero of the story and exclaim
history

...

man who has started

and knows how to guard it.)

Unconsciously," says Fenn,

this

explains

only the

greater success for his boys' books

By

not to be

part,

he read everything that came to hand.

later hfe, for

a weakling prizes

the

manly,

the acute development of his imagination

and his good health in

life as

essentially

to

is

Hence

boys to be bold,

spent most of his days in bed.

his early passion for

also

His aim

(Henty was practically a confirmed invaHd during

milksops."

It

his

**

done.

young man's

straightforward and ready to play a

early

sympathetic note.

does not want juvenile Hterature.

that's safe

*
!

In this

way Henty Hnked

*
:

Ha

himself

with the great body of teachers who joined with him

hand in hand hence it was that the book-writer who kept
up for so many years his wonderful supply of two, three
and often four boys' books a year, full of soUd interest
and striking natural adventure, taught more lasting history
to boys than all the schoolmasters of his generation."
;

But enough on

this score.

what " soHd

discover
that they

were men of affairs,

strategy, yachting, big

symbolism and so on.

that his

characters "

find

my

it

strange,

must admit, to

early idols possessed, to learn

interested in agrarian reforms, miHtary

game hunting,

political intrigues, archaeology,

How startling to read of Henty, for example,

motto could well have been

**
:

God, the Sovereign, and

"

What a contrast to the characters who are later to

influence me, so many of them " pathological," or, as Max Nordau
would say " degenerate." Even dear old Walt, the man of the
great outdoors, the poet with a cosmic sweep, is now studied from
the People

the

**

pathological " side.

far firom

to

Henty

that " the neurotic

was

as

asunder " sounds almost comical

" neurotic " was not even known in Henty's

as are the poles

me now. The word

206

Fenn saying


LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN
Hamsun used to flaunt the word " neurasthenic."
" psychotic " or else " schizophrenic." Today I

day.

it is

for boys today

youths of today
Last night

me

Seriously, I

frequently since

simple

am

most

had great

a tremendous choice, that

me

reminds

me

for

it is difficult

my

reason

is

have such

to decide

what

Everything

As

intellectual being.

Conrad

says

somewhere

not

touch

the

the most interesting one

to

my

former

that a writer only begins to live

of a creator

life

book

reread a

known

A partial truth.

he has begun to write.

Conrad, but

The

of the inexhaustible stream of contributory influences

think of the time, place and circumstances

after

This happens to

book.

this

Everything seems pertinent.

which have shaped

selves.

...

interesting question

engaged on

writes

they feed on, the

difficulty falling asleep.

am

What do

mean.

inundated with such a flood of material,

to write about.

Today

Who

know what he

meant,

not the only Hfe nor perhaps

is

which a man

There

leads.

a time for

is

play and a time for work, a time for creation and a time for lying

And

fallow.

scarcely exists,

there

a time, glorious too in

is

when one is a complete void.

way, when one

its

^when boredom

mean

seems the very stuff of life.

Company a while ago got

who worked with me in that

Speaking of the Everlasting Cement

me

to recalling the

office at

wonderful fellows

the

New

30 Broad Street,

with recollections that

names of

with them.

my

saw them

Jimmy Tiemey, Roger

all

Suddenly

distinctly

Eddie
Ray

Frank Selinger,

Wales,

connected

trifling episodes

and

clearly

was so charged

notebook and began Hsting

and the

these individuals
I

York.

grabbed

Rink,

Wetzler,

Frank McKenna, Mister Blehl (my bete noir), Barney something-

mouse of

or-other (a mere

whom we

man), Navarro, the vice-president,

encountered only in going to the lavatory; TaHaferro,

the peppery Southerner from Virginia, who would repeat over

"
ToUiver !
the phone a dozen times a day, " Not Taliaferro

But the one on

whom my memory

once thought of from the day

twenty-one.
panions.

record

mine

Harold

Jotting

" vacant

^by the

Street

down

his

days."

fastened

was

his

name,

That

is

was

a fellow

company

the

I left

name.

We

at the

remembrance of blank,

I associate his

idle,

never
age of

were boon com-

wrote alongside of

how

it

for the

name with

happy days spent with

207

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFB

him in the suburb called Jamaica. We must have had somethiag
common, but what it was I no longer remember. I know

in

definitely that

he was not interested in books, nor in bicycle riding,

would go

home,

a large, rambling, lugubrious

as I

was.

sort

of faded mansion, where he Hved with a grandmother, and the

day would

to his

him
I

do remember.

guess

how we

him

envied

But

mebecause

And

that

to visit

me, that

As

life.

was

utterly

Harold was

was riddled with them.

to

the quietude of his

could detect, he had no problems.

strange to

remembrance of

the faintest

passed the time.

sombre surroundings was a balm

in those quiet,

far as I

Not

dream.

pass as in a

what we talked about or

men who know how

to get oa in the world, how to adapt themselves, how to avoid
pain and grief It was that which attracted me to him. The deeper
reasons for this attraction I will undoubtedly uncover when I go

one of those calm, steady, poised young

^which,

more deeply

into this period

Nexus

^in

as

you know,

have not even started to write. Enough, however, to call attention

'*
periods in which, fortunately for us, we are not
to those " vacant

know who we are, much less what we will do

know one thing definitely, it was the prelude to my break

even concerned to
in Ufe.

with the family,

as

well as

my

my

me

had come over

break with

and soon

at

Done with

Chula Visu,

it is

California,

me

after

No more books
And

all

my

then,

"

on

European

old favorite

work

has an itch to read and

said to

Edgar

never heard of

books which

who

takes long

happen upon

and, without in the least intending

the world of books, via Nietzsche

So

fall asleep.

Saltus

an

turns, the

it

And

Emma
it,

first

all

am
of
the

wheel of destiny

had just been reading another

American author you probably

was reading The

thought had taught

night before

myself

to discuss our favorite authors.

dramatists.

could not

friends

the fruit ranch

then Bakunin, Kropotkin, Most, Strindberg, Ibsen, and

Last night

208

the wanderlust

Golden West (of Puccini

because of my affection for Bill Parr that

celebrated

The

whom do I pal up with but that cowboy,

who

Goldman in San Diego

swung back again into
all,

"

the intellectual life."

BiU Parr of Montana,

walks with

office routine

was to say goodbye to

family, to start out for the

rather than the gold seekers).

'*

Imperial Purple,

me

one of those

something about "style."

had finished Emil Ludwig's biography of Hein-

LBTTBR TO PIBRRB LBSDAIN

rich Schliemann,

Yes,

know

me dizzy, dizzy because it is almost

man accomplished in one lifetime.

which nude

incredible to think

what

this

about JuHus Caesar, Hannibal, Alexander, Napoleon,

Rene CaiU^ (of Timbuctoo fame), and Gandhi

and scores of other " active ** men. They all led incredible Uvcs.

Thomas

Edison,

man SchHemann, a grocer's boy who becomes

who learns eighteen languages "on the side,"
as it were, and speaks and writes them fluendy, this man who all
his life conducted a heavy correspondence in his own handand
made copies of each and every letter by hand this man who
begins his career in Russia, as exporter and importer, who all his
Ufe is traveling between distant points, who rises at four in the

But somehow

this

a great merchant,

morning

usually, rides horseback to the sea (at Phaleron) takes a

swim winter

or summer,

is

at his

a second breakfast at eight a.m.,

out,

and towards the

Greek to

who

his

wife but

later
insists

desk or at the excavations having

who

on using

who

book down

doggedness, authoritativeness,

man had made

Order,

how

well

whom
man

how German

The most amazing man

the ruins of Troy,

Greek

this

Utterly cosat heart

imaginable.

Mycenae, Tiryns and other

And

States, residing for

places,

and

Uncovering
and almost

beating Sir Arthur Evans to the labyrinth of the Minotaur.

out because the peasant

is

can one sleep on

he was

himself a citizen of the United

mopoUtan and yet thoroughly German.

a Teuton.

he

has ever

discipb'ae, sobriety, perseverance,

a while in San Francisco and later in Indianapolis.

still

and

modem

Homer's day,

of the man

unearths the greatest treasures any

found, who, et cetera, et cetera,

putting such a

in season

the Greek of

writes his letters in the language

addressing,

Homer

reads

years refuses to speak even

Losing

who was ready to sell him the site of Knossus

lied to him about the number of oUve trees on the property.

Only 888 instead of 2,500. What a man! I waded through his fat tomes
on Troy and Mycenae
I read the autobiographical pages he

had

inserted in

book

for an over-all picture

What

And

one of these volumes.

a task for the biographer

Ludwig examined.

then

decided on Ludwig*s

of the man.

Listen to his

Twenty thousand

words

papers Herr

First of all, there was the long series of diaries and notebooks which he kept and wrote up almost continuously

209

"

THE BOOKS IN MY tIFE

from
of

the twentieth year until the sixty-ninth and last year

his Hfe.

books,

There were

family

letters,

and account
and

his business records

documents,

legal

passports

diplomas, huge volumes of his linguistic studies,

very exercises in Russian and Arabic

his

were newspaper

there

all this,

down

cuttings firom

all

to

Besides

script.

quarters

with historical data and dictionaries of

his own compiling in a dozen languages. Since he preserved
everything, I found, along with the most illuminating
memoranda, an invitation to attend a concert in aid of a
poor widow. Every paper was dated in his own hand-

of the globe,

lists

writing.

cannot leave the subject without reference to one humorous

and pathetic incident concerning Agamemnon.

Towards the end

of his days, discussing for the thousandth time, perhaps, the question

of whether

was or was not Agamemnon's body which he had

it

exhumed, SchUemann exclaimed to

" So this is not Agamemnon's body
All right,

let's

him

call

Yes, each night

go

to

Schulze

day to do

in a

my

all

digest the

book or books

have only two hours

(I

One

reading.)

night

Henty's

it is

at the

have

most

life,

the

Haggard's two-volume autobiography, the next a

next Rider

book on Zen,

little

Dorpfeld

assistant,

bed and

been reading that evening.

young

these are not his ornaments

his
;

the next Helen Keller's Hfe, the next a study

the Marquis de Sade, the next a

book on Dostoievsky,

either

of

by

Janko Lavrin (another old favorite and eye opener) or John Cowper

Powys

Aretimo,

and

go

in rapid succession

Ouspensky

his Siddhartha

^then

from one Ufe

Hermann

Rabelais,

to another

Hesse

(two English versions of it

(Voyage
I

am

en

Orient)

obliged to read

and compare with the German and French), EUe Faure (The Dance

Over

with sideswipes

Fire and Water)^

History of Art,

et c'est bien magnifique,

Let

me

stop a

The

at certain passages in

The Black Death, Boccaccio, Le Cocu Magnifique,

moment

Another John Ford, in

comme

here.

my

je vous ai dit par carte-postale.

Crommelynck

eyes.

dramatist

Flemish genius.

who

has contributed

something altogether original to the repertory of immortal drama.

And on my
I

prefer

way.
2IO

favorite

themejealousy.

Crommelynck. Proust was

Othello ?

You

can have

it

wonderfiil, in his labyrinthine

But Crommelynck reaches the

absolute.

don't sec

how

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

add anything more to

possible to

it is

tliis

(My

great theme.

respect

to your colleague, J. Dypreau, for his excellent review of the recent

of

presentation

wonder,
Yes,

When

play in Brussels.

cannot sleep nights

Each one

new

are

this

will

we

see

sufficient to set a

is

me, others

to

They

old.

Ah, what was

one.

is

here,

marvelous books.

after reading these

man's head spinning for a week.

overlap and intertwine.

complement one another, even when they seem most

All

it

if ever ?)

" The

wanted

that line in Faure I

to

Some
They

disparate.

remember

Too true, alas.

" The order is in us, and not elsewhere," he says. " And it does not
reign elsewhere, only if we have the power to make it reign in us."
One of my readers, a young French psychoanalyst, sends me an
have

it.

excerpt

aims

artist

at a final order."

from one of Berdyaev's books

the chaos in the present

world which

in

True.

which the

latter

speaks of

have succeeded in rendering,

and then adds that this chaos is also in me. As if I did not know
" The artist aims at a final order." Bien dit et vrai, meme s'il essaie
!

de ne rien donner que

mon
je

Aux

avis.

reste,

To

me

add

books

for the

same gratuitous
fantastic

medley of

certain pleasing

that, in
I

titles

last

c*est

complexe. La,

le

continuity.

what order

reveals itself

received in reply substantially the

"

As

say
!

more

what

grand

sense, one's Hfe,

from

all

the books

titles

order,

should have

Where

my

they

meaning.

and in

read,

my

past, as it

have read, the more

logic, the

uncover

my

life.

It

makes

resembles a quagmire. Certainly

it

no Creator could have ordained

am

My

discipline I discover in

even when

treads, the choices

" Never saw such a

in selecting

The more

through the books

the devious and manifold paths

and decisions one makes. Can you imagine

which the vagaries of every

i

should have chosen for them a

and meaning.

Who is to
How absurd

order, the

were recorded

all

and inteUigible sequence of

more

a ledger in

from

if,

forty years,

see a farrago I see order

one

v6rk6 ou

la

writing several book-seller fiiends

wanted,

slap in the face

had read in the

My

ou

moi.

this let

of mine

Ca,

chaos qui reside en lui-meme.

le

autres a denicher

Would

it

single mortal that ever

Hved

not be insane to keep such a log book

we

No,

(>ur

way, the Creator must have similar and more

sure that whatever difficulties

mortals have in finding

fantastic ones.

211

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

And

if,

solemnly believe,

as I

not also make sense to

it

lives

it all

why

makes sense to Him,

us, at least as

regards our

own

can

individual

If I cannot sleep nights

for the extent

bookworm

of

my

not because of the books

it is

reading

(Think of Napoleon

devours in a day.

am reading,

compared

infinitesimal

is

to

what a

at St.

Helena

ordering up stacks of books each day, devouring them like a tape-

worm, and
it is

more, more

calling for

memories

the

lives, as I said before.

!)

No,

it is

not the books alone,

with them, the memories of former

associated

can see these former selves

my many

as clearly as if

And yet, here is a fact

the man I was when I first read Mysteries,
I simply cannot get over
let us say, seems to be hardly a whit different from the man I was
yesterday, the man I still am, let us suppose. At least I am no different
I

were looking

at

fiiends in turn.

my appreciation of and enthusiasm for the author of this book.

(That he was a " collaborator " during the last War, for example,

in

means absolutely nothing to me.) Even

if,

as a writer, I

am

aware

with each rereading of the "defects" or, to be more kind, ** the

weaknesses " of my favorite author, the man in me still responds
to him, to his language, to his temperament, just as warmly.

may have grown

or

but thank God,

say to myself,

being.

It

must

be,

may

not either
I

in

And

it

is

intellectual stature,

my

have not altered in

assume, that an appeal

and irrevocable.

final

made

essential

to one*s soul

we

with the soul that

is

grasp the

essence of another being, not with the mind, not even with the
heart.

One day
as

read in the French paper Combat a letter dated as late

1928 firom H. G. Wells to James Joyce.

It

one blush with shame for a feUow author.

communication in the same vein, but in

berg to Gauguin, anent the
listen to the

la

pourquoi vous

913

of a

Strind-

But
" Vous

dieu personnel

toujours par vous repandre en

four-year-old daughter the other morning

with me.

from

letters

de con, de merde et d'enfer."

" Oh, Henry, what beautifiil golden teeth you have

my

make

me

(new) Tahitian paintings.

pompous Englishman of
chastet^, i la puret^ et i un

finissez

letter to

reminded

better spirit,

tone of the

croyez sans doute a

c*cst

latter's

was a
It

" exclaimed

on climbing

C'est ainsi <)uc je m'appro(:he des gpuvres de

cris

mes

into bed

confi-^res,

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

I

how beautiful

sec

they are

how

arc their golden teeth, not

ugly or

artificial

But there

are

which

things, trifling personal things,

little

also

me awake nights after finishing a book. For example, time

again I am struck by the factand I hope you will not think
egotistical of methat so many of the writers or artists I adore

keep

and
this

seem to have ended

their Uves just

about the time

was being bom.

(Rimbaud, Van Gogh, Nietzsche, Whitman, to name

What do I make of this

mc. So

when

Nothing,

was just making

my way

wisdom of

experience, their
inherit

by

rest

virtue

Hfe,

just a few.)

serves to

nothing do

of their immediate precedence. More,

mentioned.

Another thing about these

interested in

knowing how they came

through accident,

figures

names

am

vitally

whether

Sometimes

it is

circumstances attending their birth which fascinate me.

was not the

.only

bom

one to be

Swedenborg the only one to

in a manger,

the

(Jesus

Nor was

find.

own

day and hour of his

predict the

must wait

their

end

to their

suicide or chagrin.

ilbiess,

even hear

Their

or another.

their teachings,

twenty, thirty, sometimes forty years before

bemuse

protestingly,

All that they fought

way

have to repeat, in one

it

womb,

out of the

they were laying themselves to

and died for

But

actually.

The few who were comfortable and affluent during their

are vastly oumumbered by the hordes who knew nothing

death.)
lives

who were

but sorrow and misery,

betrayed,

reviled,

drawn and

quartered.

Those
I

beheaded,

hanged or
genius there

banished,

of similar geniuses

clusters a constellation

bom out

starved, tortured, persecuted,

Around almost every man of

imprisoned,

of time. They

all

in the tradition, as

rare are those

who

are

belong to and are part of bloody epochs.

we

Hve and die according to

say,

think of Nikolai V. Gogol for

tradition.

the one who wrote

some reason

who

The Diary of a Madman, the author of the Cossack Iliad

end of one of his stories
"A gloomy

declares towards the

this

world, gentlemen

all places,

our

He, Gogol,

fearing to remain in

incidentally, in

places

**
!

what

Holy

strange, foreign,

scribes write their

completed in Rome.
days before his death

settles

Russia.

down

in

(Have you noticed,

and often remote and desolate

famous books

i)

Dead

Souls

The second volume Gogol burned

;

place,

Rome, of

the third was never begun.

was
few

Thus, in spite
213

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

as a

of a pilgrimage to Palestine
fused, despondent being,

The man who

miserably far from home.

who had

**

wretched, con-

Comedy

message," perishes

has

made miUions laugh

on

a most decided influence

other) writers to come,

this

to write a Divine

one that would contain

for his people,

and weep,

holy penitent,

who had hoped

the Russian (and

labelled before his death as **a preacher

is

of the knout, an apostle of ignorance, a defender of obscurantism

And by

and darkest oppression.***

how

wonderful,
ends the

prophetic

volume

first

a former admirer

that passage

is

on the

whom

Janko Lavrin, from

Russia with a question which

since

^asking in vain.**

Here

all
is

how

which

have drawn

Gogol

the above observations, says that in this passage

But

troika

**

addresses

her great authors have been asking

the passage

you not speeding along like a fiery and

?
Beneath you the road is smoke, the
At
bridges thunder, and everything is left far behind.
your passage the onlooker stops amazed as by a divine
Russia, are

matchless troika

miracle.

What
force

Was

unknown

Ah, you

of lightning

that not a flash

surge so

this

is

full

of

terror

he

And what

asks.

is

this

impelling these horses never seen before

horses, horses

^what

horses

Your manes

are

whirlwind
And are your veins not tingling like a quick
ear ? Descending from above you have caught the note
and at once, in unison, you strain
of the famihar song
your chests of bronze and, with your hooves barely skim!

ming

the earth,

you

are transformed into arrows, into

air, and on you rush

Russia, where are you
under divine inspiration
flying i Answer me. There is no answer. The bells are
tinkling and filling the air with their wonderful pealing
everythe air is rent and thundering as it turns to wind
thing on earth comes flying past and, looking askance at
her, other peoples and States move aside and make way.f

winging through the

straight lines

Yes,
for

me

and

it is
it

memorable

especially

answer."

exiles, all

when

seem

comes

to,

**

1948.
t Translation

Answer me

to

"<jvhen

There

they hated the

Mayakovsky, by Janko Lavrin

by George Reavey.

In these

words
is

no

of so many famous

to hear the sonorous music

singing the same tune, even

* See From Pushkin

314

it

But

passage, prophetic, indubitably so.

evokes other emotions and reactions too.

Sylyan

|*rcss,

fath^r-s

London,

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAlM

"

land or the motherland.

what they
love

and

it

not

now
know

upon

I spit

That

arc there."

is

country better than you.

am

it.

if it

not too

is

the prodigal son

But

late.

citizen

am dying of loneliness but my pride is

greater

until

have a message for you, but

And

to reveal it."

on

so

as to burst

of

full

man

is

not the

despair, full

of such

it

of anguish,

these hearts full

mingled love and hate

"

You

here.

you make me an honorary

from here

than any loneliness.

time

am

know my

return with honor one day

stir

of my home town.

more, even though

I shall

I shall

"

are saying.

asunder.

When I urged you to read with special attention the piece called
The Brooklyn Bridge " (in The Cosmologkal Eye), perhaps it

was something of all

You

Black Spring.

You

had in mind.

this that I

are right about

put your finger on the very line which

illustrates

my point " I am grateful to America for having made me realize

my needs ..." But did I not say, too " I am a man of the Old
:

World i "

Those miserable, niggardly reviews you speak

let us

not waste time discussing them.

from

now what Robert Kemp

of
I

this

gang

Who
or

said,

Edmund

am back in America. My days

are

Too

fiiU.

The cock

From

rest.

then on not a moment's

Valentin
to be.

Wilson, or any

every morning the cock crows.

changing

fiill.

Tony,

Often

At 6.20 sharp

my

am

as

Then comes

she one day announced herself

digging in the garden before breakfast,

what we have taken from

Breakfast over,

rush to

the

my

every day fifteen or twenty

soil, like

the trot,

my

the forest that

empty

my

letters to

head swarming with

am

mind and recharge

visitors.

another, like railroad trains.

van load than another

my

books.

If

ideas.

the battery.

put back
peasant.

Before the sun

It is

do

sets

come home
only when I enter

go alone

get the chance to

Some

days are broken

Occasionally they pull up one after

I

pulls up.

"

good Chinese

answer.

truly alone, only then

up. by the arrival of

even read

studio and begin answering the mail

usually take the children for a walk.

on

litde son.

begin the day by

and fetching him a zwieback.

his diaper

" the mystery of God,"

Sometimes

is

extending the interminable shallow trenches into which

of

will care fifty years

WeVe

have hardly said goodbye to one

Many of

these visitors have not

heard about you

" they say.

As
215

"

THB BOOKS IN MY LIFE

warrant for encroaching upon a man's precious

if that constituted a

tune

Between

times, as

hours a day

were,

it

my work

at

write.

tomorrow.

me good to write

in

It

does

demand, a gratuitous

me

You

on some

The

of mine.
to

what end

aspect

such

reservoir.

What

which

in a few brief

them

the trench

look

like those

could be more

wars

not a response

have owed you

who

this letter

How

it.

are about to write

thesis

demands they make

useless,
(It is

more

am

me

we

not every day

to explain

Some,

!)

my

digging

is

^it

And

of time

a waste

get a

in utter

whole works

Sometimes, resting on the spade,

lines.

is

which has accumulated

Celine wrote on Semmelweiss

as

letter to

of my work, or on the work of some friend

naivet^, have the cheek to ask

up from

questions they ply, the

This

without knowing

it

college students

and energy, than a college

thesis

a letter

so to speak,

have evoked

from

loathe those letters

a thesis

letter,

of a

like the waters

for a long time.

'

can put in two to three

began yesterday, and will probably continue

you, for instance,

to a

If I

consider myself lucky.

by

beginning,

to

look

the way, to

breastworks which were thrown up in the Balkan

sometimes,

I say,

looking up

at the

huge blue bowl of the

sky in which the vultures are careening, or looking out to sea where
perhaps not a ship

why

is

to be sighted,

wonder what

the use of

is

it

mad activity
It is not that I feel lonely.
I doubt if I have known that feeling more than two or three times
You write,
in my whole hfe. No, I wonder simply to what end
others write me likewise, that my work should be disseminated,
all,

carry

on

this

that

it

good

contains something of value for the world.

it

would

and ponder.

way

only

feel

not to do anything

my

Twiddle

can take a vacation

book. Just he

on

flat

had the choice

Sure, if I

at all for a

is

would

to

But

imaginary ones.
heart

since

back and dream.

Dostoievsky,

216

As

**

set

it is,

the

What

a luxury

my

vacation

rather be spending

^Timbuaoo,

let

Ramakrishna,

unknown

us say, or Mecca,

choose a few

EUe

Faure,

devil or saint

**

**

cannot make the physical voyage

As companions

Jean Giono, or some

Just

trump up a dubious malaise

journeying to some distant realm

or Lhasa.

How

wonder.

can He for hours without looking

my

while

Nothing more.

thumbs.

and take to bed for the day.

at a

after

make

Cendrars,

Blaise

whom

my own

rout out

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

of

his

all

Himalayan

sudden-

get well of a

and jumping

clothes

run

down

the line to visit

Emil White. (Both

He

Sometimes

fastness.

needed was a change, an interlude

doesn't

my

friend Schatz or

are painters, but the latter isn't

know what

into

my

aware of

my

friend
it

yet.

to call himself, but every day he turns out

To see another American

God knows how many miles.

another Persian miniature of Big Sur.)

writer

would have

to travel

Which reminds me
ing and revelatory
to

Theodore

that the other evening I read a

most

interest-

by Sherwood Anderson (January 2, 1936)

It was precipitated by the suicide of Hart

letter

Dreiser.

Crane and Vachel Lindsay, two well-known American poets,

" For the last year or two," Anderson begins, " I have had something in

my

during the

mind

you and

that

two

year or

last

should have spoken about and

my

has been sharpened in

it

mind by

the suicide of fellows like Hart Crane, Vachel Lindsay and others,
to say nothing of the bitterness

of a Masters." (Edgar Lee Masters,

" If there has been a betrayal in

author of Spoon River Anthology.)

America," he goes on to say, "

do not

other.

artists,

writers,

believe that
singers,

etc.

think

it is

we^and by

the

our betrayal of each

word we
by each
*

^have really stood

mean

other."

He

goes on to say that he has been thinking of putting his thoughts

on

the subject into a general letter or pamphlet to be called "

can

Man

another.

to

He

American Man."
says that

it

He

might help for

old habit of letter-writing between

periods existed in the world."

And

Ameri-

speaks of our loneliness for one

of us " to return to the

all

man and man

then he adds

that has at certain

this

For example, Ted, suppose that every morning when

you go to your desk to work you would begin your
day's work by writing, let's say, one letter to one other
man working in the same field as you are. Suppose we
did, by this effort, produce less as writers. There is probably
too much being produced. I am suggesting this as the
only way out I can see in the situation. It isn't that I want
you to write to me. t could give you names and addresses

need you and whom you need. I think it

up a kind of network of relationships,
something closer say between writers and painters and
songmakers, etc, etc
Further on he continues this
letter on the following day
^hc writes
Can you bcUevc

of others

who

possible to build

217

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

that Vachel Lindsay would have taken
[suppression
of text by the editor, not me !] if on that day he had got
even two or three letters from some of the rest of us ?*
.

know what you

don*t

I
It

may

strike

you

By

American.

that

But

will work.

nearby and

who

Americans are always ready

young

to a

communicate with

their needs, their desires, their

a bulwark of defense against the indifference

hopes and dreams

older writer,

have noticed,

deceptions, the heart-aches

is

which

own

the traps, the

beset the novice.

He

of any

pitfalls,
is

the

apt to be

work,

creative

included.

so firmly beheve that the blind should aid the blind, the deaf

the deaf, and the

we

tempted to dissuade rather than

disillusioned about the value or necessity

his

of the world, the

have arrived, against the indif-

He knows

encourage a young writer.

a soUd nucleus,

and blindness of editors and publishers particularly

ference, stupidity

An

who

of older writers

Uves

a projert

it is

writers than older ones.

writers

Why shouldn't they create a network of their own,

indifference

who

writer

putting the idea into practice,

young and unknown

one another about

of Anderson s.

this idea

are not convinced beforehand that

young and unknown

shouldn't

appeals to me, being also an

we

that

we

it

was saying

as I

is

better suited for

Why

But

mean

to try a thing out, even if

it

of

will think

as jejune.

young

the older ones have

from

us.

lucky

it

writers the

more

young
from

to learn

young than they

" Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

be

There was a pompous old

so.

Moreover,

writers.

the

scientist

Aye

And

here the other

day who, arguing with a young friend of mine about the coming

voyage to the moon,

insisted that it

was not the time

to think

seriously about such ventures, that indeed to discuss such matters

before the time was ripe, did

nonsense
science

"Go

But

to

more harm than good. What

to

sit

back and wait

until the

arrant

men of

Portable

to

when

his good friend

two men among

Sherwood Anderson and

to

rather think

" influences,"

* The

we were

come back
I

good fortune
218

if

had made fiill preparation and provision, until they said

" Would anything ever happen if that were the procedure ?

Dreiser.

my

As

forgot to include these

wrote on

meet Anderson

Sherwood Anderson

this subject earlier.

just a

few

The Viking

had the

years before he died.

Press,

New

York, 1949.


LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN
It

was shordy

staying at the

same hotel he was.

nearby bar, and

Dos

was

Passes

them, was
writers

though

this

my

recall

feeUng of

men.

mention

this because,

as

were so

"

men of

whole period of apprenticeship

to.)

was immediately

critical aloofiiess

old attitude of the novice, the

We got

knew my name.

especially

dis-

by Anderson's

my

books,

am

quite sure, but

was intoxicated

was

also impressed

along splendidly.

storytelling gift.

I also

unknown

Americanism, though in appearance he was anything but

his

Dos

the typical American.

that they

were very much

liked America.

say

They had

The

tributions to a
I

Transfer

it

also

own

soon observed

The Seven

become

But before

of

either

of them had
I

called

Dreiser, I

one day.

Twelve Men.

need hardly

W|:iters

swum

con-

led

me

had of course

had the
*

into

my

ken

read everything of

he portrayed so tenderly in

young

that

Arts, I think

a writer

Yes,

bar.

his early

sensed the poet in him, as

could lay hands on.

book of his

too.

it,

early books, such as Three Soldiers, Manhattan

adored Theodore Dreiser.

I

They

country.

Sherwood Anderson.

storyteller in

writer.

in their

very American,
I

traveled over every part

and Orient Express.

days, that

home

as

is,

was the reading of one of

magazine

might

number of his

read a

at

fact

was deUghted to fmd Dos Passos there in the

because oddly enough

to beUeve

me

Passos too struck

though he was quite a cosmopolite.

%o the

(In Paris,

one writer of eminence, one of our

Neither of them had read

writer.

birds."

finding myself back in America again,

my

found myself back in

bom

**

by the warmth and friendliness emanating from these two

They were very, very human and at once put me at ease.

sipated

on greeting

writers, but they

had met and talked

deHght that John

never regarded them

at

with two celebrated American

should study these

mean, that

my

was

meet him

My first impression,

sitting

during

that,

can hardly

writers,

Of course

by

be

happened that

It

a date to

found to

with him.

sitting

made

had met a few American

in America,

tfiey

arrived

^how odd to

Before

letters."

me, so intimate, that

close to

own

when

I felt as

of course,

my return from Europe.

after

this
tell

his,

even modelled
I

my

had read and

in those early
fint

book on

loved his brother, too,

book

whom

Paul Dressier, the song

you, gave a tremendous impetus

of his day. His big novels,

like Jenny Gerhardt,

219

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

The

The Finander^wt

Titan,

unwieldy" today
sombre,

realistic,

carried

them "huge, cumbersome and

They were

call

tremendous impact.

dense, but never dull

at least to

passionate novels, saturated with the color

can

life

they issued direct from the guts and were

the very heart's blood of the man.

that

So

sincere

warmed by
do they seem now

men

like Sinclair Lewis, Hemingway, even Faulkner, appear

by comparison. Here was a man who had anchored him-

artificial

As

a reporter he had seen life close up-the

He was not bitter, he was honest. As honest
any American writer we have ever had. And that is what he

midstream.

self in

seamy
as

me. They were

and the drama of Ameri-

side, naturally.

the abiHty to look

taught me, if anything

was another quaUty he had and

There

at life honestly.

was

that

fullness.

know

that

Americans have the reputation of writing thick books, but they

are not always fulsome books. I spoke a while back

in

**

emptiness of the European, as

material

the emptiness

tural heritage.

The

**

fullness

is

in the

peasant

stir

artist

week or more.

of

his daily Hterary fare.

so

meagre

Our

in this respect that

barbarism only yesterday.

the roots, imbibes

it is

by French

critical

to

references

more of what

is

apt to give

am not sure.

cite a

and profundity of experience

In general, however,

European writer begins from the

His particular

number of novels,
of which for content, raw

can

writers particularly, the like

you hke.

part

comes to the novel, to

called experience.

is

dangerous to generalize.

sion that the

it is

we emerged from

one would think

it

interpretative essays are

Perhaps the American writer Hves closer to

we have no coimterpart for.

?30

and

But when

material, slag, rich ore, profusion

if

me

indicate

nothing for a French writer

It is

names and

out the raw experience of Hfe, the American

the European a jolt.

Besides,

gave

meant to

of the garret has when he watches a

to lard his article with dazzling

ment,

a pot of thick stew, a stew which has been kept going,

so to speak, for a

spilling

so manifest

is

thrill it

glance at a European review or hterary weekly,

the pleasure which the

his

Western world, both

spoke of the

The
of

in his spiritual or cul-

of the void " which

unknown

When

Europe and America.

in the basic ore

I feel it, is

of the American

in Chinese art seems to be

in

of the difference

emptiness " between European writers and Americans.

have the impres-

roof, or the firma-

racial, cultural

firmamentnot

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

firmament.

the

thin, his material

works on

once

let us

a master with the pedals.

is

approach the subject from another angle. Let us com-

two men who ought

pare

not to be compared, since one was

really

a novelist and the other a poet

mean Dostoievsky and Whitman.

choose them arbitrarily because for

in

modem

novelist,

He had

be given Dostoievsky
a " democrat."

democrat "

(I

my eyes

at least, is that

But

Whitman,

profoimd, saw bigger than

as

We speak of him

as

because of his religious, pohtical and

^not

hope

mean

whose

individual

more than

infinitely

greater than a poet.

Now that particular appellation could never

beUefs but because

social

they represent the peaks

the cosmic sweep, yes.

the great democrat."

**

Whitman was

though not

lesser artist,

Dostoievsky.
**

just as

between the two, in

the difference

me

Dostoievsky was

Hterature.

of course,

though the

voice gets

levels, his

The great European, of course,

he knows how to pull every organ

predigested.

is

all levels at

stop and he

But

though he worked with a triple-decked

as

It's

Sometimes he remains on the upper

clavier.

Dostoievsky was' more and

it is

understood that

when

than

less

use the

word

to signify a unique self-sufficient type of

allegiance

no government has yet

arisen

big

enough, wise enough, tolerant enough, to include as citizen.) No,

Dostoievsky was human in that " all too human " sense of Nietzsche.

He
is

wrings our withers

when he

impersonal by comparison

the great

swarms of humanity.

unrolls his scroll

His eyes are constantly fixed on

the potential, the divine potential, in

Dostoievsky

He

talks

stirs

and grimace, to wince, to

causes us to shudder

Whitman

Not Whitman.

times.

man.

Dostoievsky

talks fellowship.

of Hfe. Whitman

he takes in the crowd, the masses,

brotherhood

us to the depths,
close

our eyes

at

has the faculty of looking at

everything, divine or demonic, as part of the ceaseless HeracHtean

stream.
his

No end, no beginning. A loft)% sturdy wind blows through

poems.

We

There

know

is

a healing quality to his vision.

that the great

God was no problem

as the

had

Word

for

problem with Dostoievsky was God.

Whitman

ever.

He was

with God, just

was with God, fiom the very beginning.

virtually to create

God and what

Dostoievsky

a Herculean task that

was

Dostoievsky rose from the depths and, reaching the summit, retained

something of the depths about him

still.

With Whitman

have
221

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

the
is

man tossing like a cork in a turbulent stream he

now and then but there is never any danger of his

image of a

submerged

down for good. The very substance of him prevented that.

One may say, of course, that our natures are God-given. We may

going

that the Russia

ako say

of Dostoievsky's day was a

world from the one Whitman grew up

and giving due emphasis to
development of character

come back

strain

of

artist,

Both had the prophetic

vision.

And

both were imbued with a message for the world.

Both mingled with

in Dostoievsky there

Dostoievsky, like so

the present.
is

is

eschatological

the future

many of the

anchored firmly in the eternal now, in the

to the fate of the world.

He

world

too,

which

is

an intensity and acuity almost

and the other

Nineteenth Century

he has the Messianic

the

there exudes a largesse

But the one emphasized

superhuman.

Russians,

clearly

From Whitman

not forget.

godlike

well as the temperament of an

as

to the question

both saw the world

let us

which determine the

the factors

all

far different

But, after acknowledging

in.

flux,

strain.

is

Whitman,

almost indifferent

has a hearty, boisterous, good-natured

He knows au fond that all*s well

He knows that if there is anyno tinkering on his part will mend it. He
way to put it to rights, if we must use the

hail-fellow-well-met tone often.

He knows

with the world.

thing

wrong with

knows

it,

that the only

expression,

is

more.

for every Hving individual to

put himself to

first

rights.

His love and compassion for the whore, the beggar, the outcast,

him from

the afficted, deUvers

He

social problems.

recognizes

preaches

no mediator.

He

inspection

no dogma,

and examination of

celebrates

no Church,

lives outdoors, circulating

with the

wind, observing the seasons and the revolutions of the heavens.

why he can do nothing better

He had problems, I know. He
had his sore moments, his trials and tribulations. He had his moments
of doubt too, perhaps. But they never obtrude in his work. He

His worship

impUcit, and that

is

is

than sing hosanna the whole day long.

remains not so
cosmocrator.
I

have put

my

physicallythe
I

am

much

He

finger

on

it.

(Not

that I

epileptic versus the

mean

man of

talking of the health and vitality

language, which

222

the great democrat as the hail and hearty

has abundant health and vitality.

reflects, therefore, his

to

There perhaps

compare the two

the outdoors.

No.)

which exudes from

inner state of beino;.

his

Stress

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

ing

mean

this, I

freedom from

to indicate that

lack of concern for the exacerbating problems

had a great deal to do with

spared

him

those inroads

is

almost

maintaining such a

beleaguered

participate. It
at the

on
is

wonder

It is really

if I

in

have made
fullness

the fullness

rich cultural stew

of

a world citizen "

is

meant

It is

Dostoievsky

to bring out

is

many

It is

to Dostoievsky,

the quahty

It is

But

Yes.

for the children

of

this

of the name-

the emptiness

chaos and fecundity.

which

Humanity,

He had

it

in

orders of humanity. In order to prescribe

some Hvable order he had, one might almost

For himself ?

Testament.

not the emptiness of the abstract,

but a vortex in the bubbling maelstrom.

is

in literature.

New

Compared

another.

life

rather a divine emptiness.

to give birth to

the ele-

one kind of fullness, the heavy

void out of which sprang chaos.

with him,

is

am concerned with. Whitman

either.

precedes creation.

Dostoievsky to the

in a sense empty.

It is

getting to be

it is

life as it is reflected

of Europe

ore of everyday American

him

him to be **

what

clear

Whitman is
less

it.
He
He must

attains

against.

Europe seems altogether eliminated.

of the world

closer to the Upanishads,

The

when he

be for or

be above the mel^e, but not impossible. There

was speaking of the

is

condition "

almost impossible for

not living in the times

A European has much more

fullness.
'*

He must

all sides.

ment of chance here which

I

He was

most he can be "a good European." Here too

difficult to

It

Whitman seems

but in a condition of spiritual

difficulty

his poetry.

culture

of the day.

ills

of

this tonic quality

which most European men of

arc at one time or another subject to.

impervious to the

cultural cares, the

of culture, probably

for

all

world.

other

say, to create a

men and women

too.

God.

And

Dostoievsky could not Hve alone,

no matter how

perfect his Hfe or the life of the world. Whitman

we feel. And it is Whitman who is called the great democrat.
He was that, to be sure. He was because he had achieved selfsufficiency
What speculations this thought opens up Whitman arrived, Dostoievsky still winging his way heavenward. But

could,

there

One

is

is

no

question of precedence here,

a sun, if you

like,

where of Dostoievsky

the other a

star.

no

superior or inferior.

Lawrence spoke some-

striving to reach the

moon of

his being,*

*"

He who gets nearer the sun is leader, the aristocrat of aristocrats, or

he who, Uke Dostoievsky, gets nearest the moon of our not-being."
223


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

typical

Behind

Lawrencian image.

was endeavoring to support.

lay a thesis

it

which Lawrence

have no axe to grind

them both, Dostoievsky and Whitman,

accept

and in utterance.

in essence

have put these two luminaries side by side merely to bring out

The one seems

certain differences.

and he

light,

is

thought of

to

me

other radiates a cool cosmic light, and he

of all men,
that

is

as the

work one
hand

difference in voltage, if

human

demonic being

the

thought of as the brother

life.
is

you

They both gave

Hght,

Whitman

passion,

all

In Dostoievsky's

like.

has the feeling that the angel and the devil walk hand

they understand one another and they are tolerant of

humanity in the rough, there

is

devoid of such

entities

Nature grandiose and

is

of the great

the breath

is

is

Dostoievsky

one another. Whitman's work

there

of

in the midst

the important thing.

compassion.

in

man

glow with

to

as a fanatic, as a

there

eternal,

is

and

Spirit.

have often made mention of the celebrated photograph of

Dostoievsky which

window of

used to stare at years ago

a bookshop

on Second Avenue

it

New

in

hung
York.

in the

That

me the real Dostoievsky. It is the man of the

man who suffered for them and with them. The eternal

will always be for

people, the

moujik.

One

docs not care to

a saint, a criminal

As

for

Whitman,

know whether this man was a writer,

One is struck by his universality.

or a prophet.
the photo

which

being, the one everyone knows,

In the

book on Whitman by Paul Jamati*

Whitman

taken in the year 1854.

and has just found himself.

was almost going

the expression
just a tinge

yet

had always

identified

with

his

discovered the other day that

photo no longer holds for me.

this

become

It is

to say

He
**

that ruddy,

it.

found a photo of

then thirty-five years of age

has the look of an Oriental poet

sage."

of the eyes which

of melancholy in

He is

is

But there

is

something about

not the look of a sage. There

Or

so

it

is

has not

bcwhiskered bard of the famous photograph.

a bcautifiil and arresting face, however, and there

in the eyes. But, if I

He

seems to me.

is

deep quest

may venture to say, judging firom a mere photo,

* Walt Whitman, by Paul Jamati ; Editions Seghers, Paris, 1949.

This same photo (from the collection of Hart Crane) serves as frontispiece to the 1949 reprint by The Bodley Press, New York, of Walt Whitman
the Wound Dresser, edited by Richard M. Bucke and ynth. an Introduction
by Oscar Cargill.

224

tBTTBB TO PIBRRB LESDAlN

there
'*

remote

also a

is

veiled

**

stellar

look which they

the set of the

lips,

were "aHen,"

as

look in these Ught blue

comes from looking

a strange stotement to make,

support.

mere

my

image
the

battlefield,

six years before the

man
why

in his hand.
also a poet

is

Siberia

at the

the look

and

seer.

fiirther

not the photo,

from which

This

with the

is

new image of Whitman

of

by

words, did not place a sword

of the ministering angel, an angel

this arresting

at the

photo of the year 1854,

photo Jamati dwells on, the daguerro-

a steel engraving

was made and which served

of Leaves of

nothing very remarkable about

amaadng, to

my

it

mind,

is

that the

To me

Grass.

this

Whitman.

same man could have

looked up the book by

his friend, the

Maurice Bucke.*

unfortunately, a description

However

age of sixty-one.

brows

are highly arched, so that

it is

to the center of the eyebrow. [This

one most

at fint sight.]

The

is

Whitman,

In search of an accurate physical description of

at the

young

thousands of

looked so difierent in two photos taken in the same year

It is,

who

the way, that Jamati finds so remarkable.

Americans in that period might have passed for

is

In this look

he nursed the wounded on the

as the firontispiece to the first edition

What

world and the

conflicts disturbingly

was for Dostoievsky.

why

can see

have just had a look

there

the thought

outbreak of our Civil War, which

destiny, in other

It is

must speak

type

But

without

read his unUmited capacity for sharing the suflerings of

his fellow

It

utterly

justifiable or not, it has altered

way Whitman looked

the world.

to

was for Whitman what

of 1854

it

This

experience here below.

man who moved with the throng.

which

though

as

had unquestioningly preserved, the one of the genial mixer,

was captured

is

(?)

intuition, a flash in the pan.

conception of the

way he looked

world

at the

The
by

eyes.

contradicted

know, and perhaps

no matter whether

haunts me, and

is

though he had been brought from above, or

beyond, to go through a needless

is

and which

register,

Canadian doctor, Richard

Says Bucke

a long distance

of Whitman
:

" The eye-

from

the eye

the facial feature that strikes

eyes themselves are light blue, not

indeed, in proportion to the head and face they seem rather

large

* Cosmic

CotuciousnesSt 13th edition, 1947

E. P. Dutton

&

Co.,

New

Yoric.

225

'f)

THE BOOKS
small

IN

MY

LIFB

they arc dull and heavy, not expressivewhat expression

they have is kindness, composure, suavity." He goes on to say

that " his cheeks are round and smooth. His face has no lines expressive

of

or age

care, or weariness,

...

have never seen

his look,

even momentarily, express contempt, or any vicious feeHng.

in

known him to sneer at any person or thing, or to manifest

any way or degree either alarm or apprehension, though he has

in

my presence been placed in circumstances that would have caused

have never

both in most men."

of Whitman's body.
I

have ever seen."

find

In the few pages

He speaks of the "

And concludes thus

point out

"

who

which Bucke devotes to Whitman

in this

whole books by the "

volume

of
have made him an " object of study." But before I

more of import than

literature

"
well-marked rose color
" His face is the noblest

some of the

in

salient passages let

over the duaHty of Whitman,

Gemini, probably the

say that, in pondering

forgot completely that he was a

and

finest

me

professors

example of

fullest

this

type that

ever lived, just as Goethe was the greatest example of a Virgo.

Bucke has thrown the

full

power of

his searchlight

on

new

the

and the old beings which Whitman managed to make compatible.

Stressing the

sudden change in the man's fimdamental being, which

"
:

We

occurred in his thirty-fourth or thirty-fifth year, he says

expect and always find a difference between the early and mature
writings of the same
that

man

But

in the case

of Balzac*) writings of absolutely

followed (and,
study)

at least in

Whitman's

across each

of which in

by pages

written the words eternal life

piece but

by such

And now

for

and

{as in

case,

without practice or

letters

of ethereal

fire are

have not been written ten times in

..."

some of

significant

Walt Whitman,

of Whitman

value were immediately

pages covered not only by a master-

vital sentences as

the history of the race

interesting

no

the observations

which

find singularly

...

in

my

talks

with him

at that time,

always disclaimed any lofty intention in himself or his

poems. If you accepted his explanations they were simple
and commonplace. But when you came to think about
these explanations, and to enter into the spirit of them,
*

226

Italics

mine.

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

you found

that the simple

and the commonplace with him

included the ideal and the

He
tion):

'I

average

me

man

in

spiritual.

now in what connecwhich should be that of the

average circumstances, and still grand,

one day
have imagined a

said to

(I

forget

life

heroic*

beg you to keep

It is

this in

mind

We shall come back to it shortly.

devastatingly important.

He seldom

read any book deUberately through, and

was no more (apparent) system about his reading
than in anything else that he did ; that is to say, there was
no system about it at all.
He read no language but English, yet I believe he knew
a great deal more French, German and Spanish than he
would own to. But if you took his own word for it, he
knew very Httle of any subject.
Perhaps, indeed, no man who ever Hved Hked so many
things and disHked so few as Walt Whitman. All natural
objects seemed to have a charm for him ; all sights and
sounds, outdoor and indoor, seemed to please him. He
appeared to like (and I beUeve he did Hke) all the men,
women and children he saw (though I never knew him
there

to say that he liked anyone), but each

that

He

who knew him

felt

he liked him or her, and that he liked others also .

was especially fond of children, and all children Hked
.

and trusted him

at once.

For young and old his touch had a charm that caimot
be described, and if it could the description would not be
beUeved except by those who knew him either personally
or through Leaves of Grass.
This charm (physiological
more than psychological), if understood, would explain
the whole mystery of the man, and how he produced such
effects not only upon the well, but among the sick and

wounded.

He did not talk much ... I never knew him to argue

or dispute, and he never spoke about money. He always
justified, sometimes playfully, sometimes quite seriously,
those who spoke harshly of himself or his writings, and I
often thought he even took pleasure in these sharp
and the oppositions of his enemies. He
were quite right, that behind what his
fiiends saw he was not at all what he seemed, and that,
from the point of view of his foes, his book deserved all

criticisms, slanders

said that his

critics

2^7

tHE BOORS IN MY LIPB

the hard things they could say of it and that he himself
undoubtedly deserved them and plenty more.
He said one day ... * After all, the great lesson is that
no special natural sights not Alps, Niagara, Yosemite,
or anything else is more grand or more beautiftil than
the ordinary sunrise and sunset, earth and sky, the common
trees and grass.* Properly understood, I beUeve this suggests
the central teaching of his writings and Hfe namely, that
the commonplace is the grandest of all things ; that the
exceptional in any line is no finer, better or more beautiftil
than the usual, and that what is really wanting is not that
we should possess something we have not at present, but
that our eyes should be opened to see and our hearts to

feel

what we

all

have.

He

never spoke deprecatingly of any nationaUty or

class of men, or time in the world's Imtory, or (even)
feudalism, or against any trades or occupations ^not even
against any animals, insects, plants or inanimate things,
nor any of the laws of nature, or any of the results of those
laws, such as illness, deformity or death. He never complained or grumbled either at the weather, pain, illness or
at anything else. He never in conversation, in any company,
or under any circumstances, used language that could be
thought indeHcate (of course he has used language in his
poems which has been thought indeUcate, but none that is
so.) ... He never swore ; he could not very well, since
as far as I know he never spoke in anger, and apparendy
never was angry. He never exhibited fear, and I do not
.
beheve he ever felt it

And now

come

to the passage

linked with the other one

prophetical of the

say to you,
as the

my

coming

expressing

and

22S

Bucke

says

Howsoever

of it

that
I

prose, to be

that

it

" seems

wish to

may be,

regard

this egotistical

this passage

mature view of Hfe.

will even

it,

but

regard

it

go

fiirther

and

^I

now indeed you may be surprisedthat

me as essentially American, or to put it

this

as

view of

another way,

underlying promise which inspired not only our best repre-

man." And
is

race."

from Whitman's

beg you not to think

my own

sentatives but

life

signalled.

dear Lesdain, that not only do

things strikes
as the

key to Whitman's philosophy, the very kernel of

and once again

say

which is

if I

am

felt

and understood by the so-called "common

right, if this broad, easy, genial, simple

reflected (even

view of

dimly) in both the highest and the lowest


LETTER TO PtBRRE LBSOAIN
of American

Strata

man
new

to be

bom

earth.

But

society, there

on

me

let

is

this continent,

indeed hope for a

new

not withhold the statement longer

A fitly bom and

of

race

hope for a new heaven and

.

growing up in right conindoor harmony, activity

and development, would probably, from and in those
conditions, find it enough merely to live and would,
in their relations to the sky, air, water, trees, etc., and to the
countless common shows, and in the fact of life itself,
discover and achieve happiness ^with Being suffused night
and day by wholesome ecstasy, surpassing all the pleasures
that wealth, amusement, and even gratified intellect,
emdition, or the sense of art, can give.
bred

of outdoor

ditions

as

race,

much

as

You may

think

or what, but
note

it strikes,

same time),

presumptuous of me,

its

that the tenor

insular, absurdly patriotic,

this passage, the distinctive

sweeping inclusiveness (and annihilation

temporarily

it is

of

absolutely American.

is

would say

that

rock

this

For

it

I insist

of the

intellect.

It is

at the

was on

it

America was

forgotten

solid rock, this thought, this platform,

abstraction

that

founded.

and not a gaseous

what the highest

representatives

of the human race have themselves beUeved and advocated, though

have been sadly twisted and mutilated.

their thoughts

the destiny of the

of the

elect,

of the chosen few,

vaUd to me.
cursors

common man, of every man, and

is

what makes

it

it is

way

seem more

have always looked upon the "

of a type to come. Viewed from an

That

not the

elect

**

trae

and

as the pre-

of view,

historical point

they represent the peaks of the various pyramids which humanity

Viewed from

has

thrown up.

we

not always face to face with the etemal

which

seeds

will

And

place constandy.

self-liberation

Whitman

*'

is

Is it

superfluous

of the

self,

name

The

^and

to come.

real revolution

for this deeper process

What

is

is

We

taking

emancipa-

did Faure quote from

will be complete for

him who

is

himself

necessary to add that for such beings government

that abdication
^where there are incom-

There can only be government

of one's

plete beings.

the

in other words.

The world

complete."

form the base of new pyramids

are always waiting for the revolution.

tion

view
arc
they represent the

the etemal point of

The

own

inaHenable rights

New

Jerusalem can only be

is,

made of and by
229

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

emancipated individuals. That

Are we

collective."

eye
"

we

see

Zen

to see it

community. That

is

If we see

ever ?

in the only actuality

it

it

it

now

is

" the absolute

with our mind's

will ever have.

everyday life," you will find written in every book on

the subject. " Nirvana is capable of attainment now" you will also
is

book on

find in every
**

because the

Attainment

the subject.

immediate present
from Whitman " Is it lucky to be

to be realized in the
is

this

hardly the word,

is

fulfilment " implied in such statements

.

How

bom

It is

something

is

very

Zen

like

just as lucky

to die."

In summarizing his pages

on Whitman, Bucke makes, among

others, the following statements

no man who ever

In

lived

was the

sense

of eternal Ufe so

absolute.

Fear of death was absent.

show any

sickness did he

Neither in health nor in

it, and there is every

sign of

reason to believe he did not feel

He had no
And what
If there

be

of

sense

Suddenly

of Evil ?

evil, there

of this

silenced towards the

is

("

affirmation.

Not

is

Dostoievsky's voice

Was

I hear.

that not the thought

Whoever knows Dostoievsky knows

the torments he endured because

doubter

it

can be no God.

which plagued Dostoievsky

it.

sin.

conflict.

end, silenced

resignation," as

But the

by

rebel

and

a magnificent

Janko Lavrin points

out.)

Love all God's creation and every grain of sand in it.

Love every leaf, every ray of God's Hght. If you love
everything, you will preserve the divine mystery of things.
(Father Zosima, aUas the real Dostoievsky.)

And what of Evil ?

Whitman answered
I

say there

Twenty

is

in fact

Whitman

not once, but again and again

had entered upon the new

become

Bucke

he describes in two immortal

vouchsafed

him

"

And

life,

had taken

the path, like Lao-tse, like Buddha,

gives us the revolutionary

oj Columbus^ ostensibly, as

230

evil."

years after he

the path in order to

like Jesus,

thus,

no

says, his

own

poem, the Prayer

prayer, in

lines the illumination

which

which had been

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

Light rare untcUablc, lighting the very Hght,
all signs, descriptions, languages.

Beyond

He

imagines himself to be on his deathbed

worldly standards,

pitiable.

It

would seem

his condition

Whitman doubt

him, or punished him. Does

God had

as if

The

of the above-mentioned poem give the answer.

moment

the

thus

God knows him

"

What

death

How

and

two

lines

writes

He

by

of

says that

willing to

is

could there be any doubt

man who had written " I feel and know that

ending, as we thought, but rather the real beginning

of a

not the

is

God

through and through, and that he

leave himself in God's hands."

in the breast

he say to

shall

last

Bucke

is,

deserted

that nothing ever

or can be

is

nor even

lost,

die,

nor soul

nor matter."

The

questioning, the doubts, the denial and the negation even,

which abound
mouths of

Dostoievsky's works,

in

his various characters

expressed

and revealing

through the

Whitman's

the problem of certitude, stand in sharp contrast to

lifelong attitude.

He

In

some

arraigns the Creator

again

..."

to take
life as

and

it

Unable to accept

up

as a

reminds us of Job.

respects Dostoievsky

and Hfe

problem."

life

itself.

To

quote Janko Lavrin

spontaneously, he was compelled

And

he adds immediately

problem demands a meaning which must

irrational selves.

At a

certain stage the

even become more important than

altogether, unless

its

with

his obsession

satisfy

meaning of

life itself.

One

" But

our rational
life

may

can rejea

life

meaning answers to the highest demands of

our consciousness."

few weeks ago, in going through

It

my

papers, I ran across an

had torn out of the magazine Purpose (London, 1937).

was by Erich Gutkind, on Job. I was tremendously impressed by

article

this

of

new reading. I am sure I had never grasped the essential meaning

words when I read it and put it carefully away in 1937. I

his

mention

this Httle essay,

meaty and compact, because in

gives an explanation of the problem such as

before.

It

connects, assuredly, with

my

it

Gutkind

have never seen

preceding remarks about

Dostoievsky.

" In the
the world,

Book of Job," he
by

says,

**

God

is

no longer measured by

the order or disorder of the world.

But the world

231

IRB BOOKS IN MY LIFB

is

measured by God. The standard

is

here God.

of Job

And

that

(just as it is light

which changes

leads us to a deeper

is

with Einstein)

The Book

the world.

He

undentanding of the world."

then

proceeds to explain that the Christian idea of sin as well as the

doctrine of reincarnation with
that

" everybody's suffering

is

notion of Karma, the idea, namely,

its

explained

by

his

own

sins"

sharply

is

Book of Job.

rejected in the

not the payment of a debt," he says, " but

Job did not have to
answer for sins which he had committed. He took upon
himself the terrible problem of suffering." [Note how
all this connects with Dostoievsky.] "The question with
which he wrestled is a basic question of the order of the
world, the struggle between God and Satan ... It is the
question of whedier the world b meaningful or meaning" Suffering

is

rather a burden of responsibility.

less.

And

good or

the world

Is

Gutkind points out, en

so on.

thing was returned to Job

also.

evil ?"

"Job does not

^his

passant^ that in the

end every-

wealth, his health, and his children

perish like the

Greek heroes."

Then, diving into the heart of the problem, he says

let

us ask with Job

What kind of strange

What
sphere

to the operation of chance

" But

does the blind realm of Fate stand for

is this,

"

He

in

which God

says that God's answer to

docs not appear to meet the cry of his soul.

leaves everything

Job

God answered Job

" Where wast thou, man, when I founded

" That was God's reply. He points out that " in the

cosmologically, he says.
the cosmos

cosmos everything takes place according to law. There everything

is

weighed against everything

else

...

All

is

balanced."

Nature

of Fate, he sutes. He says that Job, in seeking to understand God's ways, " takes God as a kind of cause, a natural force."
" But," says he, " God is not only a principle whereby the universe
is

the realm

can be explained or given meaning.

theologians

In the cosmos,

The

is

the

God of

man and God can never come together.

God is to be found everywhere in

pantheistic idea, that

nature,

relative

one of the causes for the decline of the concept

.
. Nothing
has reality of itself
Nature is
through and through. Every phenomenon is itself

is

of God
232

That

an abstract God."

the

LBTTBR TO PIERRE LBSDAIN

of an indescribably complicated net of relations.
The Jewish tradition
is not to be found there.
teaches that Abraham sought God in the cosmos. But he
did not find him there. And because he could not find
him there, he was driven to search for God where he
reveals himself, namely, in the direct conversation between
God and man.
part

Reality

Then

follows

which

this,

is

what

have been leading up to

One must always so conduct oneself as if there were no

God at all We may not explain the riddle of nature by
God that would be the end of science. We may not
wait for succor from God
that would be the end of
human initiative. The less we concern ourselves with
the idea of God in our explanation of the world and in
our practical Hfe, the more clearly will God appear. This
is what the Book of Job teaches when God asks
Where
And even
wast thou when I founded the cosmos ?
*
Where art thou, when I direct the cosmos
!

It is

Whitman

often said of

sure the

same might be

said

them narrowly, because

that

other

by

his ceaseless

was humanly

the torture and the anguish

man s

am

of

life.

possible, to

of all

menand

Dostoievsky under-

assume the problems,

especially, as

so well, the incomprehensible suffering of children.

answered

are to look at

and almost unbearable questioning, the

his steady, clear affirmation

it

we

But we discover nothing by

They transcended the ego the

examining the egos of such men.

took, as far as

if

in Dostoievsky's extreme humility there

was an extraordinary arrogance.

one through

he had an inflated ego.

of Dostoievsky,

we know
Whitman

problems, not by weighing them and examining

them, but by a continuous chant of love, of acceptance, in which

the answer

was always impHcit. The Song of Myself is no

hymn of creation.

different,

fimdamentally, than a

D. H. Lawrence

closes his Studies in Classic American Literature

with a chapter on Whitman.

a mixture

perception.
himself.

is,

To mc

He had

cannot pay

It is

an incongruous piece of writing,

of shoddy balderdash and

to

it

is

come

the rock
to

flashes

of amazing acuity of

on which Lawrence

Whitman

him out-and-out homage,

eventually,

Whitman

did.

The

no, not Lawrence.

he cannot take the measure of the man.

shattered

and he

is

He

truth

a pheno-

233

THE BOOKS
mcnon

MY LIPE

IN

to him, a very special kind

of phenomenon

the American

phenomenon.
But, despite

all

the

fuming and

song and dance with which

in saying things about

much

is

in

who

over

Whitman which

Whitman he

because, to be honest

fails

and candid, he was a

interpreters to
'*

way he

Whitman's

lesser

man, a man more-

But Whitman's

interprets

essential

it is

essential

a challenge to

message," says Lawrence, " was the

leaving of me soul free unto herself, the

loom of the open

leaving of his fate to her and to the

the bravest doctrine

is

There

could not grasp,

come.

Open Road. The

Which

Lawrence does succeed

are imperishable.

much he

to grasp,

never achieved individuation.

message he grasped, and the

all

ranting, despite the rather cheap

his essay opens,

man

road.

has ever proposed to

himself"
Declaring that the

he

true

Whitman,

speaks out in

!),

in the veins

he says

of men.

is

the

American continent

the

first

white aboriginal, that

first

and the only American teacher (and

also that

he was a great changer of the blood

the greatest and the

is

no Savior

rhythm of

that he

His true and earnest avowal of admiration,

affection

and reverence for Whitman begins

essay

at this point in the

Whitman, the great poet, has meant so much to me.

Whitman, the one man breaking a way ahead. Whitman,
Ahead of
And only Whitman
the one pioneer.
Whitman, nothing. Ahead of all poets, pioneering into
the wilderness of unopened Hfe, Whitman. Beyond him,
.

none.
Singing the song of the soul himself, Lawrence grows

He

speaks

of"

new

Hving, not of salvation."

new

a morahty of the soul Uving her

soul Hving her

life

ecstatic.

moraUty of actual
Whitman's morality, he declares, " was

doctrine, a

life,

morality, a

not saving herself

The

along the incarnate mystery of the open road."

Magnificent words, and Lawrence meant them undoubtedly.

"
the essay, speaking of " the true democracy

Towards the end of

which Whitman preached, speaking of how

he

says,

234

and with what unerringncss!

it

makes

itself

known,

" Not by a progression of

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

piety, or

by works of charity. Not by works

but just

itself.

The

being no more than

And

itself

recognized,

greeted according to the soul's dictate.

If

be worshipped in the road."

" The only riches, the great souls."

of the

and the book.

essay

And on

this

Not by anything
on foot and
and passing by or

at all.

soul passing unenhanced, passing

note

That

is

I shall

my

end

will

it

the closing sentence

New

(Dated Lobos,

think

be a great soul,

it

Mexico.)

letter,

my

very dear

Pierre Lesdain.

Big SuTt California

May

1950

lothf

Postscriptum
I

can't bring

to say.
tingly

my

never have released had

You

not embarked on

are probably the only

balk at anything

matter if

know

should act the

you

that

man

whom

say,

about yourself

reticent
I

in

You

idiot.

know

qualities are

Anyway,

"apparent"

First,

it is

to say.

appearance, did

definitely

how,

then, let

is

threw out,

me

dispose

a photograph of

might be taken,

It

some

of the

is

Whitman

at first glance, for

uncertain,

it

says

below

years before the one of 1854

your attention and about which

Parenthetically,

and pick up some

never saw before.

singled out for

you

and devotion. These

contradictions,

dangling in mid-air.

may

the

which

still

have

speaking of Whitman's physical

mention that in addition to having a rose-tinted

skin, hght-blue eyes,

as

But

represent yourself to be, if

faith, loyalty

an early photo of Lincoln. The date

more

have been most modest and

you

Opposite page 65 of Jamati's book

photo, but

no

disillusion,

should like to amplify certain thoughts

I left

wince or

will not

not found in combination in a nobody.

last-named, rapidly

which

unintended excursus.

who

almost nothing about you.

are greater than

reconcile certain

threads

this

Europe

cannot deceive or

only because of your unswerving

more

There's

a close at this point.

letter to

What matter if it assumes elephantine proportions ? UnwitI am being led to disclose certain views and opinions I might

an aquiline nose, he

will note in the 1854 photo,

never pictured

him

as

is

also

had black hair which,

already turning gray

Some-

having black hair and blue eyes

it

235


THE BOOKS
an

is

IN

MY

LIFE

combination, in

irresistible

man

woman. The

or

have

Irish

it

occasionally.

As
a

own

number of

words,

times, there

number of times during

commemorative
health.

Is it

are

were never any spoken words between

life

sometimes

services for Lincoln,

veneration for Lincoln.

the latter years of his

he took part in

of

at the risk

his

not curious, too, that Lincoln should use almost the

same words about Whitman

Both recognized

Napoleon did about Goethe

that

could have, despite

still

all

we might

adverse conditions,

not help but speculate between pauses in writing

America might be today

Lincoln to be

still

the following

the tnan.

Thinking of governments, of the excellent ones

had and

wc

imaginable, if

gather that, although their paths crossed

Whitman had an uncommon

diem.

men

one of the homeliest

for Lincoln,

to beheve his

alive,

Tom

if,

this letter

on what

War, assuming

directly after the Civil

dead or

he had had in his cabinet

Thomas

Paine,

have
could

alive

Robert E. Lee,

Jefferson,

John Brown, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau,

Mark Twain, Walt Whitman.
I

think of Whitman's funeral

of

Ingersoll,

rites, as

men, pronotmdng the

all

Jamati gives

words.

last

it,

with

Who

Bob

would

have thought that these two should be linked together in death

And not

only

that,

procession or lined the sidewalks, but the reading at the grave

firom
his

Whitman's

peen.

("

not only the crowds which followed die funeral

own work

and then from one

after

first

another of

Dc ses pairs," says Jamad.) Who were these ? Buddha,

Mohammed! What American

Confucius, Zoroaster, Jesus, Plato,

poet was ever given such a send-off ?

And then the admirable fortime, explicable and altogether justified,

which attended Whitman's Hfelong
his

work.

What

a roster of names

fight to gain

we

recognidon for

find enlisted

on

his side

Beginning with Emerson who, on receiving a copy of the first

edidon oi Leaves of Grassy writes : " Les Amiricaius qui sent a Yitranger
peuvent rentrer

il

nous

est

ni un

artiste**

Emerson, Thoreau, Bucke,

Carlyle, Burroughs,

William Douglas O'Connor, Horace Traubcl,

Mark Twain,

wonderful Anne

the

Symonds, Ruskin, Joaquin Miller

Rosettis,

236

Swinburne,

Edward

Gilchrist,

(California's

Carpenter

John Addington
Whitman), the
what

roster!


LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN
And

last

but perhaps not

least,

was

it

this

homme

Get

vivra, soyez-en surs, lorsque le

de votre Gapitole li-bas, n*^l^vera plus

les cercles

driver.

home now!

to

close

poet of the Sierras who, incensed by the outcries against

" Get homme vivra, je vous le
thus

Whitman, deHvered himself

le dis!

omnibus

Peter Doyle, the

As for Joaquin Miller*we are getting

dome

puissant

^paules rondes contre

ses

du temps."

Let us not overlook another signal event in Whitmian's career

of the monument to

his presence at the inauguration, in Baltimore,

memory of Edgar

the
ait

r^pondu h

(**

Allen Poe.

du

I'invitation

Le

seul po^te am^ricain qui

comit^,** says Jamati.)

Let us not overlook either the fact that, as his

draw
as

one

first

Europe

attention in

^in

England

work began

to

strange!

particularly,

translation after another appeared in various countries, the

French translation (of fragments only) appears in Provencal!

find that a rather

happy coincidence.

And L^on Bazalgette, the most devoted of Whitman's biographers! What a labor of love his was! What a tribute from the
Old World!
remember

same period

The

Confessions

Diary

remember reading

was
of

The Absolute

was never

Collective,

God

by Erich Gutkind

At

I'Est

works

the Hfe

by Paul

Nijkisky's

The

Spirit

Louis Lambert and Seraphita of Balzac

and Connaissance de

alone.

in Paris

faulty, that in this

Augustine and The City of

Mort d*un Quelconque, of Jules Romains

saint, Milarepa,

be

also reading these strangely different

St.

Zen by Alan Watts

work

Bazalgette's

my memory may

though

too,

of

La

of the Tibetan
(No,

Glaudel.

the worst, as I said somewhere,

was with

God!)
There

is

a side

and which to

of Whitman which

me

is

have not sufl&dently

steady, unruffled pursuit

of the

goal.

How

stressed

mean his quiet,

many editions of his

extremely illuminating

opus are issued at his own expense! What a struggle to get those
few " obnoxious," supposedly " obscene," poems included in a
definitive edition!

against his enemies.

ing.

Notice that he never wastes himself in struggling

He

marches on,

resolute,

unwavering, unflinch-

In his steadfast gaze they are overlooked, his enemies.

he follows
* His

real

**

As

the open road," friends, supporters, champions spring

name was Cincinnatus Heine

Miller,

and he was

bom

in Indiana.

237

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

They

Up everywhere.

Observe the way

wake.

issue forth in his

he handles Emerson when the

endeavors to remonstrate

latter

with him about the inclusion of these " offensive

later edition.

the

two

Had Whitman

would have been

win out

he did

so, I

it

from

am

the

stressed

too much.

affected

by
**

it

When

the author

of

of Ulysses,

than to grant

whole

knowing

comes to the
**

that

How much

Ulysses.

latter part

in

would

of the Nineteenth

our history

cannot be
lettcn

case

full

of James Joyce,

it is

by

easier

it

was

to sanction the free

of the Twentieth Century,

freedom of expression a half-century

remains to be seen what the ultimate verdict will be,

It

by French, English and American authorities, in the case of

However, I did not touch on
questionable works

ovm

of

my own

theme to draw attention to

that a sort

was

Dreiser's

an American court absolves

in the second decade

Whitman

picture

that ultimately he

was again with the appearance of

it

in a

This fight against the powers that be,

generous revenge

circulation

poems

concession to his English

The whole coune of American

(As

Sister Carrie.)

a sort of

**

the superior of

the English editions the questionable

sure,

most conservative period

it.

is

this issue the

made

did in the middle and

Century

earlier!

(True, he

in the homeland.)

taking place as

on

capitulated

altered.

benefactors in omitting
items, but

Whitman

not evident that

Is It

special providence

my
this

case but rather to point out

seemed

to guide the destiny

of

man like Whitman. He who had no doubts, he who never employed

of negation, nor mocked, sneered

the language

other

human

beings,

at,

reviled or insulted

was proteacd and preserved by staunch

friends

and admirers. Jamati speaks of the astonishment which the recriminations against

Whitman's outspoken poems aroused in Anne

EUe y

Gilchrist.

un respect, un amour de
demande avec ing^nuit^, en

voit une glorification,

la vie tout

reUgieux et

elle se

s'apercevant qu'elle vibre

si

naturellement au diapason

aHerbe, si ces versets n'ont pas ^t^ Merits

He adds : Cette femme
sp^cialement pour des femmes.
au grand cceur, cette m^re accomplie, respect^e, admir^
des Feuilles

qui

sait

d^couvrir

t^moin pour

Her 'Hnginuiti"
Her courage. Her
238

quelque chose de sacr^ dans

tout,*

quel

lui

Her "perceptiveness," I would say.

Remember, she was an Englishwoman!

says Jamati.

sublimity.


LBTTBR TO PIERRE LBSDAIN
No, even though Whitman may not have written them
for
It

women,

words were addressed

his

to

women

'*

especially"

as well as to

men.

one of Whitman's rare virtues that throughout the poems

is

woman

receives the

equals.

He

same exalted homage

raised their

what was feminine

in

manhood and

as

their

man. He saw them as

womanhood. He saw

man and what was masculine in woman

He has been slandered because he

long before Otto Weininger!

proclaimed the duaUty of sex in

where he made a
stitute

woman

"homosexual"

What

score!

Whoso

for a

all

of us. In one of the few

change in the original text

radical

manin

order,

What

tendencies.

it

instances

was

on

has been written

filth

These same

under suspicion.

talks love, great love, falls

gibes have been levelled against the greatest benefactors

all-inclusive

is

seems to repel

according to the deep-rooted legend of creation,

bi-sexual.
his deepest

woman

The

Adam was

man

Whitman's
think of

"Brahmic

man was

yet,

originally

or hermaphroditic.

In

man

and

complete

will always be complete-that

pages back
eyes,

him

it

referred to that veiled

was

not,

is,

and in the

as cold, indifierent, aloof, a

The

hospitals should

and

distant

look

hope, to give the impression that

splendor," and deigning,

to mingle with the crowd!

field

of the

And

us.

both.

When some
in

first

being

this

the psychoanalysts have led us into!

absurdities

human race. Love whidi

to sub-

to allay suspicion of

it is said,

when

man Uving apart in

mood seizes him,

the

record of his years

on

the battle-

be Plough to erase any such sus-

What greater sacrifice, what greater renouncement of self,

man have made t He emerged firom that experience
shattered to the core.*
He had witnessed more than is humanly
jttdon.

could any

demanded of
that

were so

of too

close

man.

cruel,

It

was not

though a great

Much

communion.

sympathy. Empathy

is

more

the

is

nearly the

related

word

to describe this enlarged state of feeling

This experience, which,

inroads

tribulation,

repeat,

is

upon

of
for

his inexhaustible
it.

But the word

lacking in our tongue.

must be compared with Dos-

toievsky's ordeal in Siberia, incites endless speculation.

instances

it

his health

but rather the ordeal

In both

was a Calvary. The inborn brotherly feeUng of Dostoiev-

* See page xvii of Oscar Cargill's Introduction (" Walt Whitman

The Wound Dresser.

Saint ") to

239

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

sky, the natural comradely spirit in

fiery

command of

crudble by

Whitman, were

No

Fate.

humanity in them, neither would have

(I

do not make

this

awesome

trial

or

remark

where

in man's history

test.

Whitman did not

instances

did elect to undergo some

think of Jesus and Joan of Arc immediately.)

prove

in order to

the test

great the

such an experience.

elected for

rush headlong to volunteer his services as a soldier

instances the situation

is

tested in the

how

There have been glorious

idly.

individuals

of the Republic. Dostoievsky did not

ment"

matter

was

martyrdom.

upon them.

thrust

^how he meets

of a man

'*

fling himself into the

his capacity for

But

move-

In both

there, after

the blows of Fate!

It

was

all,

in

exile that

Dostoievsky really became acquainted with the teachings

of Jesus.

It

that

was on the

Whitman

batdefield,

among

the dead and

wounded,

discovered the meaning of abnegation, or better,

Only

of service without thought of reward.

have survived such ordeals.

Only

heroic

men

illuminated

men

could

could have

transformed these experiences into great messages of love and

benediction.

Whitman had

seen the hght, had received his illumination,

few years before

toievsky.

period in his

this crucial

Both had

so with

a lesson to learn, and they learned

midst of suffering, sickness and death.

Whitman underwent

Not

life.

it

some
Dos-

in the

That insouciant spirit of

'*
His " camaraderie

a change, a deepening.

developed into a more passionate acceptance of his fellowman.

That look of 1854, the look of a

man who

vision he has had, changes to a broader

is

a bit stunned

embraces the whole universe of sentient beings

world

firom afar but

completely,
less

His expression

as well.

of one

who

of the divine

who

is

it,

Whitman had need of this

there took place in him an
'55), there

had

revaluation of

not

as a

god.

probably)

this

no longer

in the thick

human

^and the

that

of it,

inanimate

of one coming

who

accepts his lot

it,

humanization.

as I

If,

firmly believe,

expansion of consciousness (in 1854 or

also to take place, unless

all

the

come what may. There may be

but there is more of the purely human.

rejoices in

in

is

by

and deeper gleam which

values.

he were to go mad, a

Whitman had

We know, in Dostoievsk}'*s case,

obsession with the idea of a "

to live as a

how

man,

(via

Solovyev

man-god "

persisted.

Dostoievsky, illumined fi-om the depths, had to humanize the god

240

LBTTBK TO PtBRR LP.SDAIN

Whitman,

him.

in

sought

receiving

both

in

man

the

manthe man

god and
effects

divinize

to

illumination

his

god

in god, the

Today

instances.

it

in
is

from beyond,
fecundation of

This

him.

in

man4iad far-reaching
common to hear that

of these two great figures have come to nought.

Both Russia and America have become thoroughly mechanized,
the prophecies

tyrannical,

autocratic,

History must run

its

But wait!

and power mad.

materialistic

The

course.

negative aspect always precedes

the positive.

Biographers and

of a

life

of

often take these crucial periods in the

critics

on " brotherhood " and " universality

impression that it was the mere proximity to

subject and, dwelling

give the

spirit,**

suffering

and death which developed these

subjects.

But what

which diey were made to

worker, nor

Whitman

of

we know from the

utter lack

wounded

affected,

records.

these rare gifts.

lives

of each one of

of privacy

he lived

Whitman had

to

was no one

nurse, doctor, priest all in one, because there

who combined

read

to the batdefield as nurse, doctor, or

his fellow prisoners because

a beast, as

their
I

Dostoievsky did not go to prison as a

Dostoievsky was obliged to live the

priest.

like

They were

witoess.

the word, in their souls.

social

in

attributes

Dostoievsky, if

righdy, was the ceaseless unbaring of the soul

their characters

is

Whitman and

affected

become

else

about

His temperamait would never

have led him to choose any of these

But

pursuits.

same animal

that

or that same divinity in eachforced these two indivi-

magnetism

duak, under similar

man,

after release

stress,

to

go beyond themselves.*

from such a

situation,

An

for the rest of his days to the care of the unfortunate

well conceive

it

Whitman and
a mission

it

to be his " mission

will be incorporated in their

made

because they were

it

clear already, let

artists first

he might

life.

But

If they

have

to thus dedicate his

Dostoievsky go back to their writing.

If I have not

acatcd the

**

ordinary

might well devote himself

**

message "

me say

that

it

was

precisely

and foremost that these two

men

special conditions relating to their cruel experience,

and conditioned themselves to transmute and ennoble the experience

Not

all

great

men

soul with soul, as

^ As in the

case

arc capable

was the

case

of supporting the naked meeting of

with these two.

To witoess

not once,

of Cabeza de Vaca.

241

THE BOOCS IN MY

1*

man unbaring his soul is

human endurance We do not come forward with
our souls ordinarily. A man may lay his heart bare, but not his
souL When a man does expose himself to another in diis way
but again and again, the specucie of a

ahnost beyond

there

demanded a response which few men, apparendy,

is

some ways

In

capable of.

even more trying than Whitman's.

suferen

Performing for

Whitman

the services that

all

are

think that Dostoievsky's situation was

his

^ow-

he was nevertheless

did,

always regarded as one of diem, that is, a criminal Namrally he

thought ho more of ** reward " than Whitman, but his dignity
as

human

course,

to act the

*'

He

angel

being was ever deprived him.

could be said that

it

this

ministering angel."

very

fact

In another sense, of

made

easier for

it

him

thot^ht of being an

It nullified all

could see himself as a victim and a suferer because in

&a he was one.

But the important point

the r6les they assumed
to these

two

and man, or
''experts'*

if

Acting

not mediaton then

whose

calling

they

which they had strongly in

any experience.

It

was

embraced more than

it

was

passed between

their

them and

When it was

private tasks.
artists

that,

was

between

God

had assumed.

The one quahty

their inabiUty to rejea

responsibility

their mission in

]ic.

thir fellow sufferers

Men saw

The Utde

Thus, aU that

went beyond the

into their souls and they

sel^ in each instance,

They were no longer

as mediators

it

them turned

was burned

over they could not do other than resume their

any more, but

be otherwise

whedier

they surpassed the

deliverers.

The

**

men of letters,"

no, not even

We know only too well how their

respective messages burst the firames

it

^is

utter

**

experience.

into men's souls.

away.

humanness which made them

" of suffering. They
share because it was a " privilege," not

their

duty or

their

gamut of ordinary
saw

it I

intercessors,

common was

capable of accepting the great

because

not lose

beings that the anguished souls about

and unerringly.

instinctively

me

let

were deUberate or forced upon them,

of the old

revolutionizing

of

vehicles.

art

How could

which they helped

bring about, which they initiated to an extent

we

are not yet

properly aware of^ was part and parcel of the greater task of tranvaluating

all

human

values. Their concern

with

art

order firom that of other celebrated revolutionaries.

242

was of a
It

was

different

move-

LETTBB to PIERRfi LESDAIN

the center of man's being outward, and the repercussions

mcnt from
from

(which

that outer sphere

But

hear.

let

lost irruption

man

of the

we

veiled to us)

is still

one moment beHeve that

us not for

have yet to

was a vain or

it

Dostoievsky plunged deeper than any

spirit.

before letting fly his arrows

Whitman

soared higher than

any before tuning in to our antennae.

cannot leave the subject of

Still I

underwent.

personal way.

dear

very special ordeal they

this

now in another way, my own

There is something I am struggUng to make absolutely
must come back to

it

You know

was the employment

that for almost five years I

You know from

manager of a telegraph company.

the Capricorn

the nature and extent of this experience was.

book what

Even a

of human contact something

dullard could sense that

from

was bound

am aware that I have emphasized the matter

to happen.

this glut

of mere numbers, and not only of numbers but of the variety of

types as well as the conditions of
Fleetingly, too fleetingly,

it

nancy of these man-to-man

But did

daily.

experience

that

life

seems to

which was

my

me now,

sketched the poig-

situations into

emphasize suflSciendy

men

which

everyday

was plunged

of

aspect

this

fare.

my

daily

debased themselves before me, that they

stripped themselves naked, that they withheld nothing, nothing

They wept, they

Oh, to what
it.

knelt at

my

feet,

lengths did they not

to get a job, or in order to thank

if I

were God Almighty

And

I,

destiny
either

the

As

above or

believed that I

because

as his

this role for

Accidental, yes

As

my

gaze.

because

because

was obliged,

almost five years.

I

could find

incapable, unfit, except

employment manager

found myself averting

and exasperated.

me

a brother, as an equal,

was thoroughly

to be a messenger, not the

I

In order

them one

earth

had a wife and child to support

other job

And why

for giving

last

was obliged, to play

in this accidental role.

day

go

kiss

who wished to interfere with the

man on earth who wished to stand
below another man, who wanted to look each

man on

last

of another, the

(Because

no

me

hand to

if I controlled their private destinies.

man in the face and greet him as

or

my

they snatched

was

I
!)

had asked only

And

so every

in turn humiliated

Humiliated to think that anyone should regard

bene&aor, exasperated to think

that

human

beings could

*43

THB BOOKS IN MY LIFE

beg SO ignominiously for such a thing as a job. True, I myself
had fought for the right to be " a messenger/* Rejected, perhaps
because they thought
Yes,

ofiBce.

was not

made

too had

in earnest, I stormed the president's

a big thing

tionable messenger boy's job.

Rather mature for such a job.) Because

I insisted

my rights.

on

I was

to accept the lowest job

on

of

of it

unmen-

this lousy,

(Twenty-eight years old

to be rejected

earth

who had condescended

Thus, when I am

Incredible

was.

my pride had been wounded

!

returned from the president's office to the general manager's,

knowing

in advance that victory

Dostoievskian touch

^nothing

in

is

will

my palmnotice now

do but

God's

own, you might

as the supreme cosmodemoniacal messenger

say.

know

no longer a

it is

that

company,

ment manager of
I

instead

the messenger department,

would not have blinked an

my
eye.

me

moment when
destinies

of over

had bargained
took over

as

for.

that

Had my
become

to

of the employpride

was then

But, though

did not become a future candidate for the presidency,

got more than

me

listening to

he was preparing to groom

the next president of the telegraph

so inflated that

is

question of taking a messei^er boy's job.

me

listener told

dud who

as well as the astute

the

to represent myself

never imderstood

that

till

employment manager, with

a thousand individuals in

my

nevertheless

hands,

what

the
the

prayers and entreaties of the unfortunate must sound like in God's

ears.
it all

(That there
the

more

is

no such Being

horrible

and

ironic.)

wretches imagine makes

"
For these poor " cosmococdc

as these

Not Jesus the Christ, not his

And to be God, if only as simulacrum,
is about the most devastating situation a man can find himself in.
These petty tyrants who call themselves dictators, these mice who
think they alone can govern the world of men, I only wish to God

messengers

was

these idiots

God.

dej&nitely

Holiness, the Pope, but

God

might be permitted to play the

selves suited for to the utter limit

utter fatuoumess,

to

them

would

fiiU

why

can

we

Why,

citizens

role they imagine

in the

of the world not surrender

and unlimited power for a brief interlude

shatter this

them-

knowledge of their

bubble of pretense (which

Nothing

we all have to a degree)

quicker than such a sanction. But ifwe are not even willing to
ourselves to God's hands

commit
mean those who helkve in Him4ow can

we ever hope to conduct such a drastic and humorous experiment

344

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

God whom men

This

imagine to be constantly cupping both

cars in order to catch their entreaties, their blandishments, their

begnilements, does he not blush, does he not wince, does he not

squirm with anguish, chagrin and mortification when he

on

in

caterwaul issuing firom

this sickly

Earth

from

it

this tiny

abode

listens

called the

we are not the one and only order of creation.

What of the other stellar abodes ? Think of diose

(For
!

exploded

which

as well as those

Far

long

are not yet

!

My

am

is this ... a man

by being put in a position above
men, by being asked to dp what no man has the right

dear Lesdain, what

can be robbed of his

his fellow

human

trying to say

dignity

to do, namely, give and take dispensations, judge and

or accept thanks for a favor which

human

every

to endure
I

is

entided

that I

was torn

thing in the world to Hve

time

am

listen to

" what

my own

unmerited gratitude.

wanted more than any-

My solution was to write,

that necessitated another descent into the abyss.

imdemeath, not above,

really

what

others want,

sells."

But

have a boss, he

than

know which was wonc

and never again take part

life

slave.

there

is

is

as before.

Now

This

have to

what they think good or bad, above

one comfort in

taking the bread out of anyone's

I

don't

apart, that I

scheme of master and

in this cruel

and to do

to.

their shameless entreaties or their

know

only

being

condemn,

not a favor but a privilege that

is

mouth by plying

And

invisible.

new

this

role

my

all,

am

not

trade.

If

^I

never pray to him, any

more

did to the Big Boss.

Then, when

I think I have made myself into a capable worker,

when I think I know my trade, when I think I can give satisfaction,
when I am even reconciled to a long postponement of" my wages,"
PubHc Taste. You
I come face to face with the big bugaboo
remember I said that if Whitman had capitulated on this issue, if
:

he

had

edifice

who

obeyed the voice of

would have reared

appear

itself.

when you swim with

kind of friends and supporters

menaced.
is

The

latter are the

strange but the only kind

from

those

his counselors,

who

the

who

crowd

rally

there are the other

round you when you are

only kind worthy of the name.

of support

beUcve in you to the

whole hog. Let there be the

a totally different

There are the friends and supporters

slightest

that
hilt.

It

means anything comes

The ones who go

the

wavering, the slightest doubt,

245

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

and your would-be supporter turns into

the slightest defection,

your worst enemy.

responding

your
a

faults

For complete dedication there must be a cor-

against

you

man he must be all of a

who

Those

total acceptance.

work

defend you

piece

he must be that which he

and through, and no doubts about

But

broken.

When

wiU

by

enter

the back door

the illuminated individual

his vision finally adjusts itself to

of

is

through

it.

The

(There has been a lapse of about thirty-six hours.

is

in spite

When you champion

in the long run.

thread

.)

returned to the world,

is

when

re-cmbracc that view of the world

which the ordinary mortal never

the round orb of the eye

loses,

seems to grow fuUer, deeper and more luminous.

He

to readjust, to see the mountains as mountains again

and the waters

One

as waters.
sight.

only

n<Jt

That extra

The mouth too

sees

takes time

himself seeing, one sees with added

sight reveals itself

by

the serenity of the glance.

expresses that extra sight, if

does not shut firmly and tightly

may

put

it so.

This serenity of the Hps impHes the abdication of

parted.

It

the lips remain always sHghtly

useless

The whole body, in fact, expresses the joy of surrender.

The more it relaxes, the more it glows. The whole being becomes
struggle.

incandescent.

We know how impressed Balzac was when he read in Swedenborg

"

that there are

gainsaying

come down

solitary

And

it.

one

to

to bedrock, to the
in

God.

And

impression

if,

" angels.

An

extraordinary utterance,

Whitman

did not

single, soHtary soul

node which

is

in the presence

**

say
i

"

Sooner or

of such

we

we

get

Aye, eventually

as eternal in the

no

later

human

being as

we

have the

individuals,

...

(Another lapse of thirty-six hoursa very bad break, indeed.

I

no longer know what

But

it

In the interim, despite

lodged in the back of

One of
(Jules

apple.

these

is

**
:

Romains.)

Look

the thought

come

will doubtless

II

all

my

back.

was

It is

was about to
15th

express.

!)

the fritting away, certain phrases remain

head, the clue to the missing thread.

faudra bien qu'un jour on soit I'humanit^.'*

Another (my own)

for the

now May

worm

"

With

is

these

" The

came

the

worm

in the

command

to

look up the preface to Looking Backward (2000 to 1887 a.d.) by the

son of Edward Bellamy.

346

This book

^I

cannot find the edition

LBTTBX TO rilRRl L1804IM

with

preface

son's

his

many
few

Today

languages.

of Bellamy

lines

winter of the race

was

It

it is

translated into

sale,

one which

don't

know how

But here

virtually forgotten.

worth

find

an unprecedented

^had

nearly rivaled the Bible.*

citing

"

Its summer has begun.

Humanity
The heavens are before it." These words

ended.

is

has burst the chrysalis.

were written before the end of the Nineteenth Century,

years, to

long

Whitman
words of Whitman

be exact, before

after these

are a

The long and weary

just five

They follow not

so very
" The poems of life are great,

died.

but there must be the poems of the purport of life, not only in

itself,

but beyond itself"

The worm

worm

We

in the apple

makes

its

ought to

appearance

it

thing as literature,
is

the

call it

**

but

life,

as

manifesting

life

be

angel-wonn."

no such thing

not even such a thing

live, to

alive, is to

encountered a

think that whenever or wherever the

should be hailed

Au

as a sign

of new

fond there

There

as art, religion, civilization.

humanity.

itself in

Au

fond there

nothing

is

To

myriad inscrutable ways.

The

partake of the mystery.

Hfe.

no such

is

other night

undoubtedly famous, of Heraclitus, which

line,

me

goes thus:

"To Hve

dering.

could not beheve that by "to fight for" Heraclitus

is

to fight for life."

That

line set

meant merely the continuance of the struggle for

not beheve that he was implying, like a stem

we

are

by "

born

we

know,

meant

this

of being

other words.

From

means conscious
the

moment we

against undefinable things.

nature of commemoration,

We

do not

life.

But pondering over

^life is

the

allegiance,

are

is

the

the

supreme

bom we wage

Nearly everything

Ufe

Hfe

all,

knows nothing, means nothing, but

alive

could

don't believe that

life

moment

to the conclusion that, whether HeracHtus

or not, what he was saying was

only privilege,
fact

came

that the

meant to defend or uphold

must admit, what the context was.

words

tiese

existence.

realist,

are advancing towards death.

to fight for " he

to pon-

we

faith, in

a struggle

glorify

commemoration of our heroic

is

in the

struggle.

put the struggle above the flux, the past and future above the

* I have just found Paul Bellamy's preface. Here are his words "Looking
Backward, first published in the winter of 1887-8, won such universal acceptance that in the middle Nineties it was said that more copies of the volume
had been sold than of any book hitherto written by an American author,
with the two exceptions of Uucle Tom's Cabin and Ben Hut."
:

247

BOOKS

THF,

But

present.
is

cosmologically

that

it is

LIFE

swim

bids us

life

myth of

the

MY

IN

of

the mystery
to

it is

man

remind

When God

he

that

is

answers Job

only a part of creation,

duty to put himself in accord with

his

Cosmology

in the eternal stream.

creation.

it

When

or perish.

man puts his head out of the stream of life he becomes self-conscious.
And with self-consciousness comes arrest, fixation, symbolized so
by the myth of Narcissus.
The worm in the apple of human

vividly

over the face of life

steals

existence

is

consciousness.

The

everything becomes the background of the ego.

mystics, the visionaries
restore
like a

man

smash

him back

They

in the stream

There is a line firom Tete d'Or

" Mais rien n*empechera que je meure

fisherman emptying his net.

de mal de

la

found and
surrender.

lips

seers, the

mirror again and again.

this

to the primordial flux, they put

of Claudel which runs

my

In

It

an intruder. Seen through the mirror

like

mort, i moins que je ne

..."

joie

speaks of

pro-

the joy of

is

could be no other.

It

study of Balzac

of Louis Lambert.

..." My

juncture

saisisse la

The joy he

beautifiil utterance.

exist

between

man

is

point

cited a

would

is

him with which he

not

Is

everything,

again

is

from the

utterances

them again

at this

may

to ascertain the real relation that

God and man.

bound up with

number of
like to give

this
is

bound up

a need of the age

If

there not something above

?

If he

is

the end-all of the

unexplained transmutations that lead up to him, must he not be also

the link between the visible and invisible creations

of the universe
is

not absurd

is

surely not a social

me

that

we

on

are

are there, only

body

The

must tend to an end, and

it

constituted as ours

the eve of a great

do not

human

see the General

is

...

struggle

It
;

activity

that

end

seems to

the forces

..."

The Balzac who wrote these lines, and others even more discernmore inspiring (in Seraphita), was not mistaken in his view
of things. No more than Edward Bellamy or Dostoievsky or Walt
Whitman.

ing,

the
I

mentioned

man whom

earlier in this letter that I

I

With

Cymric.

In

a master in

book

as

" a living book "

248

this

this letter

it is

my

as

have written of in

Powys.

had heard recently from

looked upon

came

youth, and

new book of his

whom

John Cowper
called Obstinate

a chapter called Pair Dadeni, which

is

Welsh

for

LETTER TO PIERRE LBSDAIN

"

The Cauldron of Rebirth."

this

chapter,

particular

find in this book, especially in

works of those mentioned above.

characterize the

change which

same illuminating utterances which

the

"new

entry into Aquarius, speaking of the

granted us and which, he says, "

in the heart

of

Now

Speaking of the

coming over humanity with the advent of our

is

all life,"

what

am

may

revelation" being

turn out to be the ^lan vital

he sutes
endeavouring to suggest in

of

that the secret underlying the cause

fe

all this is

great historic

change coming over the human race, this change so closely

connected with the movements of the heavenly bodies,
this change which impHes the passing forth out of the
two thousand years of the sign Pisces into the sign Aquarius
this change which produces the effect of a living body
slowly and dreadfully restored from death to Hfe, or even
of a hving infant emerging from a dying mother's womb,
may be nothing less than that very change of heart which
the prophets Iwve always spoken of and in which the
revivalists have always beHeved, a "change of heart,"
"
however, not by any means on the lines which the " law

"prophets" predicted but on

on lines startling and unexpected,
on lines in tune in fact with that **Stream of Tendency"
in Nature which is steadily moving, and moving in
promulgated

and

the

entirely different lines,

defiance, not only

God and

both
Let

me

--or our

way of

of the

quote a few more

refiisal

Law and

the Prophets, but of

the Devil.

to take part

lines,

^in

this

for they concern us,

our part

new

this

vision

of things,

new

hfe.

None of us

realize the character

of the hidden current,

the occult wave, the unseen force, that is driving us forward.

Our immediate

purpose, our immediate destination, seems

small and meagre

which we

compared with the driving force

are obscurely yielding.

We

are like

to

somnam-

moving forward together, killing and being killed

huge world migration from one climate of thought

bulists

in a

into another.

we are moving perforce,

we respond in blind faith or react in hostile
we can see the wavering lineaments and cloudy

In the old cUmate out of which

whether
dismay,

shapes of the old totems and taboos that are disappearing.

With angry

desperation

wc

cling to these fluctuant phan-

249

tm

BOOKS

MT

Ilf

corns as they

ttPB

waver and undulate about us while we

are

swept on,

Wc

body that is falling back,

newborn utters its first cries, and

ourselves are the dying

relaxed and faint, as the

we

ounelves are the newborn.

more

Yes, and the

angrily and recklessly

imprecations against

we

surely are

we

desperately

we

more

the

cling,

our wild accusations and

fling

this gravitational ground-tide, the

more

forced on. "Fate leads die willing, drags the

unwilling."

We

are

no longer " on

Balzac wrote,
saying that

we

the

it is

the eve

of a great human

human

which

soul

of this corpse-eadng worship of life

for the

few thousand

last

There

is

is

The

in revolt

^^^lich

ingly than any one

is

is

right in

soul

is

years.

coming over

us

more

know o Many of

who

has vmtten

lucidly and penetrat-

his articles

appeared in

die columns of a popular magazine devoted to astrology.

books do not have a wide audience. If we were aware,

in accord with the deeper

with the " pseudoscience " of astrology

Such

the uneducated.

coming age

will fertilize

it

of

men.

all

The Age of

stitions,

of

The world

What

chains will

The

to the earth.

is

roots before

250

Plenitude."

that

The cup
earth, all

he

his

^and

of

sees the

will run over,

humanity.

The

" golden vessel " will be the property

not coming to an end,

coming

to an

as so

end are the

many now

fetiches, super-

forms of worship, the unjust terms

life

into a

We have nothing to lose but the corpse of

away with the mummy which they hold fast
life.

slave does not free himself merely

by hacking

Once his spirit is liberated he

The putrefaction has to be total
absolutely and forever.
there can be new life. Freedom has to manifest itself at the

the shackles

free

before

fall

associated

make

which have converted the miracle of

ceremony of death.

away

is

bigotries, the sterile

social contract,

The

is

is

to

and invigorate the whole

fear.

name

enough

the opinion of educated people

secret forces contained in this

seem to

is

mention him here only to say

**

as

is

His

we were

if

movement, we would not banish such a

writer to the pages of a cheap magazine. That his

utterances suspect

sick

humanity has celebrated

an American astrologer, Dane Rudhyar,

of this change which

struggle," as

of it. And Pow)'S

are in the very thick

which

fetter

him.

it

can become universal.

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

America,

like Russia,

is

hastening the process of putrefaction and

These two great peoples,

decomposition.

are tunneling through the very core

on

about, unconscious

their part, the vital transmogrification.

unconsciously, they are utilizing the

own

which the play of

is

is

has ripened, Europe

is

America

and a menace to

this

No

doubt

This delicate,
upheavals and

life

to break

up

it

terrifying order

what

if

is

revolution," the very idea of an

fright.

over."

It
It

does not want to beUevc

prefers

And

In working

that, I feel,

which has the European

in

its

is

grip.

at the

He

is

he wishes to participate in the new, nameless,

which

is

gomg on in China or America or India, then

it." He is even ready to take his rehgion

have

it

" If

taking possession of the world.

sense taking place in Russia," he says,

to himself, if only

the freeze to the

rigidity.

its

Nature does not ask permission, even of

into fluid elements.

terror

not being asked

word "

too hates to surrender

ceaseless transmutations

bottom of the

is

ice

glass

a threat

is

many

shudder with

it

"the winter of

thaw.

ice,

Uving in a

fragile self-made prisoner.

catastrophes that the very

" end," makes

like a fruit rotting

like a valetudinarian

long-suffering creature has experienced so

its

is

is

Fear and

faith.

Everything that happens in the outside world

cage.

that

Europe

not a sleepwalker.

If

Europe

represents.

and the timid, cautious

man, weary of wisdom yet unable to show

anxiety are the ruling passions.

it

All

for their

life

the threat of extinction

of the old

Europe

trying out of the new.

tired old

of

forces

GoUaths

these slumbering

for the conscious preservation

before

by

appalled, paralyzed indeed,

is

new

Europe, ever more conscious of beginnings and

destruction.

ends,

busy angel-worms,

like

of the apple in order to bring

it is

"

if

it is

hke what

would

rather not

seriously,

will avert the panic in his soul.

The

he thinks
idea that

new way of Hfe may be a godless one, the idea that the responsibility may be wrested from God and conferred upon humanity
as a whole, only adds to his terror. He sees no cause for rejoicing
in the thought that the new dispensation may be man's. He is too
human, yet not human enough, to beUeve that authority should
rest with man, especially with "the common man."
He has
the

wimessed revolutions from the top and revolutions from the

bottom, but no matter
himself as a beast.

And

how

they came about

if you say to

him,

as

man

Powys

always revealed
does, " Now it
251

THE BOORS IN MY LIFE

man which

the soul of

is

has

become

great

is

**

in revolt

works of art, he can

detect

its

hbcrate

from every

itself

The

creation.

of the

is

Unless
fruit that

That

is

God

deeds of heroes,

autochthonous rebel

To him

creation

is

order,

But the soul aims to

devil.

defined, but the soul itself remains

it

it

itself.

its

me from

But nothing will prevent

of death, unless I grasp joy

deep

"

even from the harmony of

thrall,

of art may be

soul

said

We are not to question the direction takes, the aims

sets
We are to obey dictates.

undefinable.

or the tasks

as the

very heart of the universe.

and what threatens that order

you

can recognize the soul in

stirrings in the

but he dare not look upon the soul

situated at the

as if

it is

He

the Fiend of Creation."

dying ol die disease

I put it in my mouth like an eternal food, like a

you crush between your teeth, and its juice gushes

down

your throat

in

the language

of the souL And

this is the

language of the

own wisdom

soul's

so clear that

It is

You must know

it

takes long to see.

which you are seeking

your own lantern.
your rice has been cooked from the very
that the fire

the fire in

Is

And

that

beginning.

When
from
**

the

This

is

came

to

homeland

my

Europe

was so ove^oyed

place," I said, " here

where

is

that I

had escaped

remain in Europe forever.

that I longed to

belong."

And

then

fotmd myself in Greece, which has ever been a Htde out of Europe,

and

thought

would remain

of the neck and put

there.

me down

brief sojourn in Greece, because

I

was

"

can

life

seized

me by the scruf
Because of that

of what happened to

able to say, truthfiilly at the time

and

truthfiilly

me

still,

there,

think

home anywhere in the world." For a type like myself,

place to feel at home is home. You know that, I guess,

feel at

the hardest

and perhaps you understand it.

that " home " is a condition, a
against places
that " to

be

had attached
252

But

again in America.

at

took

It

state

me an infinite

of mind.

and conditions of being.

home " was

itself

to the

like

word

time to realize

was ever in

But when

revolt

discovered

being with God, the dread which

fell

away.

It

became

my business,

or

"

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

my

better,

me

easier for

than here in America.

earth, I think,

And I am

Greece.

make myself at home at home. It would

to make myself at home anywhere on

privilege^ to

have been

more than an American

feel that I

am

from an earUer
of all

I feel least

American than anything

way,

good European, a

And

I feel like

else.

common man "

experiment, establishing

This

love."

must put

I salute, if I

the aboriginal being, the seed and the promise,

is

took shape in " the

the

a bom Welshman.
am probably more an
The American in me which I acknow-

of man,

race

an American, though

like

ledge and recognize, the American which

that

yearn for

am much

read of Wales and her twenty thousand years of direct

descent

it

I feel that I

Hindu, Russian, Chinese, and Tibetan too.

potential Greek,

when

miss Europe and

always dreaming of Tibet.

is

man who

on

virgin soil " the

man who

not the

fulfill

himself.

Not

new

dty of brotherly

away from something, but

destined no longer

ran

The man

ran towards something.

to seek but to

which

dedicating his soul to a

renunciation, but acceptance.

"

What would you say to one who comes to you with nothing
" Throw it away "

"mondo" was

used to

must walk on even from

spiritual

This

to grasp the truth

The

But the Song of

certainty.

and

it

It

might

the

Open Road

Walk on

say,

who was

of one

Let go

St.

all

openlike some monstrous

more

human net

adrift in the

stream of life

salutary,
?

Where would you have him

poisedin the

eternal flux

life.

Assisi.

horrified, to think that this

there be a

of

Cease squirming!

But could

anchor

is

any sense of the world

in accepting everything, rejecting nothing,

his sluices

that

altogether American,

in complete accord with

Francis

Lawrence was fiightened, nay

Whitman,

in

is

sprang from the optimism, from the inexhaustible

completes the message of

It

means

perhaps the greatest in the

is

was sung by one who was not

impoverished.

bounty,

as a

was not assumed to grasp the truth of Zen,

It

"we

the thought that

of Zen."

poverty of America

spiritual

world.

illustrate

poverty if this be used

creature

man

Hved with

of the deep.

comforting image than

this

Where would you have man

take root

h he not divinely

253


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
which eventually comes to an end

there a road

Is

Then

it is

not the open road.

We

**

dreams are made of."

are such stuff as

Vasdy more.

Life

Aye, and more.

Dreams and

not a dream.

is

Ufe intermarry,

and de Nerval has made of this faa the most haunting music. Dream

But

and dreamer are one.

that

not the all

is

That

not even

is

The dreamer who knows in his dream that he is dreaming,

dreamer who makes no divorce between the dreams he dreams

cardinal.

the

with eyes shut and the dreams he dreams with eyes open

life,

who

no longer hungers and

My

dear Lesdain, at this point

But

a close

it

*'

has that

prefer to reopen

is

nearer

dream to

who dreams no more

who remembers no more

thirsts,

because he has arrived at the Source, sudi a one

letter to

&om

passes

even in the trance,

ceases to sleep,

because he

who

But the one

to the supreme realization.

is

an Awakener.

could conveniently bring

ultimate

*'

my

ring which means the end.

and dose on a more human and immediate

it

note.

You remember
and how I

Schatz,

day, going to

we had

mentioned ray Palestinian

that

visit

him down

town (Monterey), we

It

However,

things.

The

as

Ac

to discussing

fell

read and adored in our youth.

had talked of such

friend, Bezalel

the road occasionally.

was not the

time

first

he began to

other

books

of world-famous books which he had read in Hebrew,

tides

native tongue,

I felt

that I

ought to

tell

we

reel off die

you something of

his

all this,

and through you the world.

I

think the

Jerusalem^

ment

we

time

talks

it.

Sometimes

we

sometimes

it

Sometimes

it is

San'a.

is

was

it

dis-

Loti*s

and he was

we

course, that

especially the

characters like David, Joseph,

that strange desolate part

was when he

Beside

read, never heard of,

You must know, of

and so on.

254

this subject

about Jerusalem, the Bible

about

Yemen

opened

shelf Loti*s Disenchanted.

which he had never

curious about

many

first

my

covered on

have had

Old

Testa-

Ruth, Esther, Daniel

spend the whole evening talking about

of the world

in

which Mt.

Sinai

is

located

about the accursed city of Petra, or about Gaza.

about the wonderfiil Yemenite Jews

who

have in

(Arabia) one of the most interesting capitals in the world

Or

it

may

be about the Jews firom Bokhara

who

setded in

L8TTBR TO PIlHIB ttSDAtN

Jerusalem centuries ago and sdli preserve their ordinal tongue,
their

manners and customs,

which to him

Nazareth,

Or

experiences.

he has

vifhidi

we

are

with

associated

always return to

And what do you

suppose

it

Hebrew and

language was

very

What

literature.

his

Hebrew

until

German, Frendi, Bulgarian,

home

Jerusalem

the

ridiest

*'

childhood.

He

language in the world for

that,

came near being

It

almost fainted

Another very
Everything he

Russian and probably other

Italian,

" So Robinson Crusoe was the

exclaimed.

read.

that his

he grew older and learned English,

knew from

(Arabic he

started us of

might have been, considering

Arabic

mundane

book he had ever

away when I heard the name Robinson Crusoe

eariy one was Don Quixote, also read in Hebrew.

tongues.

wond-

be about Baalbec or Damascus, both of

yesterday was his recollection of the rst

read was in

their

about Bethlehem and

talk

visited.

we

Eventually

may

it

and

their strange head-dress

Sometimes

rous colorful costumes.

first

the

still

swears in

he maintains.)

book you ever read

first

**
i

me, too."

for

" What about Gulliver's Traveb t You must have read that too."
" Of course " he said, " and Jack London's books Martin
!

Eden,

The Call of

Wild ...

the

(So do

Martin Eden particularly."

Many men
home !)

others had ided away.

It

must have struck

Here he began to

few of his books

talk

too.

about

of diem.

all

But

remember

Tlut book stuck long

I.

after his

have confessed the same to me.

Mark Twain. He had

That surprised me.

read quite a

couldn't quite conceive

of Mark Twain's quaint, piquant Americanese being rendered in

Hebrew. But apparendy

Suddenly he said
book, which
in

fiurt

through

I
it.

it

But

had been done

there

"

read

it

two or

to rack his brain for the tide.

three times,

"

Oh yes

We checked on this and I found that at the very

was poring over

I

successfully.*

was one thick book, a very thick

read with sheer deHght.

He had

"

Pidtwick Papers

same age

'*
:

didn't like

it

that

book

myself.

Only / never got

nearly as well as David Copperfield,

Martin Chuzzlewit, the Tale of

Two

Cities,

or even, Oliver TwisL

* To my astonishment, when speaking of Babbit later, he confessed that

this book by Sinclair Lewis had given hmi a better picture of America than
any of Mark Twain's. The Stockholm Royal Academy made a similar
mistake in awarding the Nobel Prize to Lewis instead of Dreiser.
255

"
THE BOOKS
**

And

He

MY

IN

LIFE
?

Alice in Wonderland

"

**

cried.

Did you read

couldn't recall whether he had read

but he had read

book

read this unique

We

he was

it,

in

that too

Hebrew or

not

though in which language he

certain,

(Imagine trying to

couldn't say.

it

what language you had

recall in

!)

went down the

list,

the

names

rolling off

our tongues

like

maple syrup.
'*Ivanhce"i
**

You

bet

And how

indeed must
salem.

strangest feeling

penetrate.

in Paris
if

how

wondered
book.

(I

as to

think

his

Walter

day,

"

You mean

thought, but where are they

By
It

Next

knew

that novel

We

could not help but talk

" You're the only

Saladin.

Saladin

"

told him.

" The Arabs

must have wonderful books about him," he concluded.

Saladin

upon asking him

ever heard mention Saladin*s name," said Schatz.

Why are you so interested in

think

Scott,

books might

**)

Ivanhoe led us into a long detour.

Sir

One

was.

it

of Richard the Lion-Hearted and of

"

Par-

strange

boy from Pekin or Canton would

he had ever read Hamlet, he answered

American

how

can never forget that Chinese student

Mr. Tcheou,

by Jack London

for

where

of gladness

long dead and no longer concerned

react to this

was thinking

novel have seemed to a Httle boy in far-off Jeru-

this

had the

That was a great book for me.

of Rebecca.**

ticularly the picture

Why

aren't

to

King Arthur,

he's the

was prepared

for

we

talking

Yes,

more about

most shining figure

can

of
this

time

did not surprise

me

any

title

he might mention.

had read The Last of

to hear that he

the

Mohicans^ in Hebrew, or The Arabian Nights (a condensed version

the only one

for children

any longer to learn

diat

ever read

{Fraulein Elsa\ Jules Verne, Zola's

or even Jean Christophe, though

last.

("

!)

it

did not surprise

me

he had read Balzac, d'Annunzio, Schnitzler

congratulate you, Lillik

Nana, The Peasants of R^ymont,

I

was indeed glad

to hear

of

this

That must have been a wonder-

Ah yes, to mention that book is to summon

man and womansome of the most soul-stirring hours

ful experience.")

for every

of youth. Whoever

crosses the threshold

of youth without having

read Jean Christophe has suffered an irreparable

256

loss.

LBTTBR TO PIERRE LBSDAIN

" But

who wrote that book called The Red Rose "* he demanded.
i

by a French author, Tm certain." It had made

sion on him, apparendy.
From this we skipped to The Mysteries of Paris,
"

It's

de Maupassant, S(^ho

Tartarin

by Tolstoy

the strange short story or novelette

gave two endings.

And
as

then

(I

we came

person

one too, but

That man
'*

Meaning

say.

still

Yes,

")

this

to Sienkiewicz.

some Southerners

sible

know

to

"

pest

no doubt every boy who

we

boys

What

he was

a volcano

Do

passage, that

am

we had

Intime

Let

me

comes in

" That man

So Polish

this

If as

we

astounding passage

remark, before

Man Who

been discussing The

quote the

Laughs, which,

not mistaken, makes a more lasting impression on young

people than Les Mis^rahles

His [Hugo's] ideal

the

first

Amiel did over Victor

as

you remember, by chance,

from Amiel's JourtMl

if I

That impos-

could have spoken with the tongue of Amiel, might

not have rhapsodized over Sienkiewicz

Hugo

the tide.)

(That man Lincoln

contact with this passionate Pole must exclaim

Timt Polish writer

works of

which Tolstoy

I can't recall

That

the

(which he adored),

Tarascon

de

a deep impres-

overwhelming,

characteristic

is

the

words

He

monstrous.

the extraordinary, the gigantic,

incommensurable.

His

most

are immense, colossal, enormous, huge,

finds a

way of making even child-nature

The only thing which seems

extravagant and bizarre.

impossible to

him

is

is

grandeur, his fault

is

a kind of Titanic

to be natural.
is

excess

In short, his passion

his distinguishing

power with

mark

strange dissonances of

magnificence. Where he is weakest is in

and sense of humor
he fails in esprit, in
the subtlest sense of the word .
His resources are
inexhaustible, and age seems to have no power over him.
What an infinite store of words, forms and ideas he carries
about with him, and what a pile of works he has left

pueriHty in

measure,

its

taste,

behind him to mark his passage

His eruptions are like
those of a volcano
and, fabulous workman that he is,
he goes on forever raising, destroying, crushing, and
rebuUding a world of his own creation, and a world rather
Hindoo than Hellenic ...
!

By

a strange coincidence our talk of books switched to those

* Probably The Red Lily of Anatole France.

257

THE BOOKS IN MY
who sowed

firebrands

Attikwhose names,

LIP;

the whirlwind
I

discovered,

who

to Schatz as they are to everyone

coincidence,

in

Amiel were on Hugo and

that

I say,

^Tamerlane,

were

tells

and

because the only long passages

*'

He

had marked

Amid

these three scourges.

the story,** he says.

terrifying

of their bloody deeds.

reads

he had been reading La Bantiihe Bleue.

who

Genghis Khan,

as thrilling

records

a Turk, Ou'igour,

It is

continues thus

" Genghis proclaimed himself the scourge of God, and he did in

known

empire

fact realize the vastest

to history, stretching

from

the Blue Sea to the Baltic, and firom the vast plains of Siberia to
the banks of the sacred Ganges."
cussing, the fact that a

(This

what we had been

is

Mongol had achieved

this

stupendous

dis-

feat.)

" This tremendous hurricane, starting from the high Asiatic table-

and worm-eaten buildings of the

lands, felled the decaying oaks

The

whole ancient world.

Mongols upon Europe

is

descent of the

and broke,

purified our Tliirteenth Century,

known

world,

first

yellow, flat-nosed

which devastated and

a historical cyclone

at the

two ends of the

through two great Chinese walls

protected the ancient empire of the Center, and that

barrier

of i^orance and

Christendom.
the

Attila,

human

life

Caesar, Charlemagne and Napoleon.

of

*'

face

the revilers of

of things

war [who]

of diunder, storms and volcanoes," Amiel

line
it

it

which must have sunk deep in me,

It is

for

"Catastrophes

resounds like a tocsin

restoration

world oC

Uttle

they powerfully affected ethnography, they

fardier, speaking

which

peoples into action, and stirred the depths

of blood, and renewed the

rivers

that

Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, ought to range in

memory of men with

They roused whole

round the

superstition

which made a

of equiUbrium

that last phrase

let

A few lines

..."

are like the revilers

declares

and

whenever

this is a

encounter

bring about a violent

they put the world brutally to

which bums and

sears

of

loose

"They put

rights.**

the world

brutally to rights^
It is

to

a long cry

from Amiel

to the

Jerome K. Jerome's Three Mett

dog!).

Once

again

was bowled

in

over.

Baron Munchausen

So in

young man had laughed himself silly over

Jerome K. Jerome
258

in

Hebrew

tales

and

a Boat (to say nothing of the

far-off Palestine another

this stupid bit

couldn't get over

it.

of humor

To

think

"

LETTER TO PIERRE LESDAIN

'*

just as

You

funny in Hebrew

remember

must

He

tried,

please try

Anyway, suddenly he

when you suddenly

whether you read

moment.

at the

not only the tide of a

the feel of the cover, the smell

smoke it

!)

of

was " Toshia," somewhere

translations

recall

he said

his head,

the original publisher

That seemed important to him

in Poland.

however

once,

(Put that in your pipe and

recalled that

Hebrew

these

Then, scratching

but he couldn't.

Maybe I read it in Yiddish."

most of

only

Hebrew."

Alice in Wonderland in

"

bookfunny

funny

that this atrociously

was

child's

of the paper, the very

Like

book but

heft

of the

volume.

Then he informed me
had been
he

said.

that practically

Hebrew very

translated into

the Russian writers

all

early.

The whole works,"

when the

**

thought of China, of the days of Sun Yat-sen,

same thing happened in

that Celestial

And how,

kingdom.

along

with Dostoievsky, Tolstoy, Gorky, Chekov, Gogol and the others,

the Chinese had swallowed Jack
is

a wonderful

by

moment

in the

(And

foreign authors.

London and Upton

of a nation when

Sinclair.

it is first

any country

world

in the

course he had also read The Three Musketeers,

It

invaded

more

to think that Httle Iceland reads

authors, in translation, than

Of

life

!)

The

Count

of Monte Cristo and The Last Days of Pompeii, as well as Sherlock

Holmes and Poe's The Gold Bug.

warm

Hamsun,

read

(Pan, Hunger,

Pump

Victoria,

Some

.)

he could lay hands on, and

all

Wanderers, Segelfoss

titles

me

Suddenly he gave

by mentioning Knut Hamsun's name.

thrill

he mentioned

it

another

Yes, he had

was

all

golden.

Town, Women

at the

had never heard of

pang of regret went through me, followed immediately by a touch

of joy,

for,

thought

way

to get these

read

them

"

read a

Do

still

translation.

Or

may

yet find the

if I

have to

the Yiddish too," he suddenly

Sholem Aleichem, of course.

Sholem Aleichem, much

better,

was Mendele

you remember Jacob Ben-Ami,

"

aUve, I

even

number of authors from

Mocher-Sfarim
**

am

Norwegian

in

better than

asked.

to myself, I

" Read them in

declared.

But

unknown books of Hamsun

Israel

Zangwill

the Jewish actor

"

"
?

259

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

"

Israel

Zangwill

him

" he exclaimed in amazement.

had read Children of the Ghetto and had seen the

dramatization of The Melting Pot, of which Theodore Roosevelt
told

He shook

was so enamored.
"

can

name one book,"

Hebrew."
" What's
'

"

>

got

me
:

most wonderful

was

many

in

"

Neck

TJie Rivet in Grandfathers

You

head in amazement.
" that I bet you never read in

"

diat

he countered

It

his

I said,

he grinned.

there,"

Then, to get even with me,

know one book youve never read. It was the

book of all to me Metnories of the House of David.

"I

volumes, eight or ten at

least."

"We

ought to have a drink on that one," I suggested. But

instead we got off on the subject of the " lamedvovnik." According
to legend, " there are in the world not less than thirty-six (latued-vav)

whom

upon

righteous persons in every generation

the Shekina

(God's radiance) rests."

we came

After this detour

back to a book which he had spoken

of several times before and always with the same passionate enthusiasm
Ingeborg, by a German named Kellermann. " He also wrote
:

"

The Tunneh a fascinating thing ^ la Jules Verne, don't forget that

he shouted. " Maybe I haven't spelled it right, but it sounds like
!

that

^Ingeborg or Inge6r^.

story

"

Like that book

I'll

down

make

for

Site

It

a search for it,"

me

in

was a love

**

promised.

my notebook." He

wrote

it

" Krtiso " and " Baalzac " and " Zenkewitz."
bafHes him.

There's

no logic

in

it,

he

insists,

" If you ever write anything about

overlook Joseph Flauvius.
die

Jews

But
that

it

we

reason,

a love

It's

a thick

all

name

Here, write the

down

beside Robinson

(English spelling

and he's damned

this,"

book about

he

said,

still

right.)

**

don't

the last days

of

..."
was about
dwelt on

it is

called

Narcisse et

which profoundly
wisdom. "

Life

Goldmundin Hebrew, of courseIn English, for

at great length.

Death and

of Hermann Hesse only

the Lover.

affect the artist.

wisdom,"

as

There

It is
is

It

magic in

is

curious

this

book

one of those books

D. H. Lawrence would
art.

some

had come upon

few years ago.

a " cadenza " to the metaphysics of

360

And what

story.

you're always talking about."

also

it

say.

and great
It is

like

" a heavenly

LETTER TO PIERRE LBSDAIN

discourse " carried

on

and the triumph of

his father's activities,

Whoever

naturally.

of the

great revival

Under

It celebrates

had made an enormous appeal,

it

reads this

book must experience

of

eternal truth

the spell of Narcisse

GoUmmd we

et

when you know them

grove near Jericho which

rambled

onabout

how

wonderful

intimately, about

banana

the

once owned together with

his father

Grand MufH, about the Yemenites again and

the

in himself a

art.

Jerusalem past and present, about the Arabs and

they are

the pain

To my friend Schatz, who had witoessed

Palestine, who had been directly implicated

the revival of art in

through

in die lower octaves.

art.

their

incomparable

who had founded

in Jerusalem and who taught

ways, and finally about his father, Boris Schatz,

the Bezalel School of Arts and Crafts

son

his

all

the

into Palestine.

me of

even

arts,

anecdote about

how

as in

days of old.

Here he repeated the

his father succeeded in getting the first piano

This Htde story, so picaresque in

one of Cendrars* exotic passages

reminded
beHeve)

down to the last detail and with aU the resources

wherein he describes

of his amazing

its details,

(in Bourlinguer, I

clavier the

thousand and one

(pianos included) which, loaded

on

of commerce

articles

the backs

of

gods and

beasts,

men, appeared one day over the ridge of the Andes (he was then

some remote South American

in

slowly, tantalizingly,

village)

from morning

and were transported

to dusk, to sea level.

passage has die flavor of a mysterious sunburst

this

To me

the great

burning orb becomes metamorphosed into a huge cornucopia

shedding not heat but an assortment of the most incongruous
objects imaginable,

Kriss Kringle

In

all

in

emptied

the midst

these discussions the

Schatz, Jericlio

is

finally

by some

of nowhere

magic name for

a beautiful winter resort

super-gravitational

me

below

Jericho.

is

sea level, to

For

which

one descends from Jerusalem as on a toboggan slide. For me it is

not only " the walls " and the sound of the trumpet but an inconspicuous village

Turnpike,
for a

on Long

would

Island, whither,

race at top speed

hardly dare

the

in preparation

workout with one of the famous six-day bike

different are the associations

I

following the Jericho

from Jamaica

tell

of names for

riders.

How

different individuals

you, for example, what Schatz associates with

name Bethlehem.

("

Always

alive

with whores

")

26l


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
One of the lasting impressions I shall retain of Palestine is his story
man who made Hebrew a Hving language once again.*

about the

Doubtless there

dead language

man

was

who

stops to think

of

that first

with Basque, Gaelic, Welsh and such weird

(Perhaps these were never wholly " dead.**) However,

own

our

in

man

teaching

Unquestionably there had been

moment.

this celebrated

There
relates

much

it

revived

and

to his four-year-old

of reviving

talk

it

before

remained, however, for someone to

It

put words into practice.

a miracle

Hebrew was

generation that

through the simple act of a

son.

one " where the revival of a

first

But

concerned.

in connection

tongues
it

always a "

is

is

is

always in the nature of

little

anecdote which Schatz

Such an event

...
is

with

a sequel to

this event,

relish, that I

cannot omit.

It is

member of

about a

Habima troupe who, arriving for the first time in

from Russia, where Hebrew was spoken only on the

the famous
Palestine,

stage (and in the synagogue), suddenly hears the urchins in the street

"

cursing and swearing in the ancient tongue.

it is

a living language

**
!

he exclaimed.

that every time a language

revitalized it

is

Now

mention

is

know

this to

that

remark

through the adoption

and incorporation of the vulgar elements of that tongue. Everything

is

nourished firom the roots.

" Tell me, Lillik,** I asked

your father name

as

we were

his school Bezalel

nearing home, "

Did he name

why

it after

did

you or

**

were you named after the school ?

He laughed. " You know that it means
of course. But

that

is

merely

in the

shadow of God,*

He

meaning.**

its literal

Hebrew. He went on and on ^like an incantation

" What arc you doing i ** I asked.
" I'm reciting some verses from Exodus
the fint sculptor, didn't
really.

The

first artist,

part about the

poetic, precise

you know

you might

Next morning

It's

* Elicer Ben-Yehuda,

who

also

it

sounded.

about Bezalel

He was more

Read your

He was
than

that,

Find the

up your street. Jt's

elaborate,

Bible

..."

did as he had urged.

containing about 50,000 words.

362

say.

Ark of the Covenant.

and never-ending

that

paused and

Suddenly he burst into

a glowing smile spread over his face.

And

compiled the

first

the

first

Hebrew

mention

dictionary,

"

LETTER TO PIERRB

1.

found of our chcr Bezaled was in Chapter 31 of Exodus, which

begins thus:

And

Lord spake unto Moses, saying.

have called by name Bezaleel the son of Uri, the son
of Hur, of the tribe of Judah ;
And I have filled him with the spirit of God, in wisdom,
and in imderstanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner
of workmanship,
To devise amning works, to work in gold, and in silver,
the

See, I

and in

And

brass.

of stones, to

in cutting

work

timber, to

in

all

them, and in carving of

set

manner of workmanship

read on and on, about the building of the tabernacle, about

Ark of the testimony, about the altar of burnt offering, about
keeping the Sabbath holy, about the writing of God graven upon
And I came upon the verse in Chapter 35 (Exodus)
the tables
I

the

" Take ye firom

which

reads

Lord

whosoever

of the Lord
scarlet,

and

of a willing

is

gold,

and

fine linen,

and badgers'

skins,

silver,

and

and

**

...

As

with the music of the words, for

and

brass,

goat*s hair,

and

poetic, fiigitive

and

workmanship of Bezaleel and

there deep in reverie,

blue,

and purple, and

and rams* skins dyed

and shittim wood, and

spices for anointing oil

precise

among you an oflfering unto the

heart, let him bring it, an oflfering

read

on and on

got drunk

indeed intricate and elaborate,

it is

fixed, all this about the

" collaborators."

his

bethought

red,

Ught, and

oil for the

me how

And

cunning
as I sat

deep was the vision of

Boris Schatz, the father of Bezalel, and with what loving patience,

with what heroic perseverance he labored to make the sons of

Israel capable,
arts,

even the

wise and ginning in the use of

art

of Juval.

knowledge and wisdom,

from the
name,

And

cradle.

Bezalel, for

And now,

my

it is

this

saw

that his

the crafts,

all

the
this

abiUty to devise curious works, even

whispered to myself:

"Blessed be thy

written into the very covenant between us

dear Pierre Lcsdain, this

journeying back to the early books

Book of Books,

all

son had imbibed

to the

Ark and

we

is

really the

have come

the Covenant.

end

In

at last to the

Here

let

us rest in

peace and contentment.

Your

May

2otht 1950.

friend.

Henry Miller.
263

XIII
READING
There

THE TOILET

IN

one theme connected with the reading of books which

is

think worth dwelling on since

spread and about which, to

I

mean,

reading in the

As

toilet.

Should

book than
I

We

a "

was

my book
good

by a running stream.

catalogue,
fired,

always.

which was then

when

think of

my

important in

life

it

Everlasting Portland

remember

my way

Cement Co.,
on aU

read standing up, squeezed

not only read during these

worked

late into
I

many
night.

trips

of

was to have been

and from the

on

of the

offices

read the "heaviest" books.

sides

by

straphangers like myself

the " El,"

memorized long

If nothing

concentration.

to read during

the house to join

a year to come,
I

At

more,

this

job

it

was

often

the night, and usually without eating lunch

wanted

I left

Yet

lucky

not Nietzsche vasdy more

to

had no money for lunch. Evenings,

meal,

when

of editing the mail order

these too-too-solid tomes.

a valuable exercise in the art

not because

Was

now.

was

under

getting the sack once

instead

my job. How

from

It

than a knowledge of the mail order business

For four soUd years, on

passages

my thirty-third year.
my reading. I read

to

did most of

was caught reading Nietzsche

264

take

" But we are not all as fortunate

we travel to and from work in crowded
we have hardly a minute to call our own."

worker " myself right up

difficult conditions,

my

have jobs,

in this early period that

safe place

better place to read a

in the depths of a forest. Preferably

trams, buses, subways

of a

immediately hear objections.

you

wide-

is

been written

have never done any reading

know of no

which

sometimes repaired to

be in search of peace and quiet

and go to the woods.

as

classics, I

Since that youthful period

toilet.

in the toilet.

httle has

a youngster, in search

wherein to devour the forbidden

the

involves a habit

it

my knowledge,

my

I rarely slept

did a vast

my
as

lunch hour but because

soon

pals.

as I

more than

amount of reading.

had gulped

down

In those yean, and for

four or five hours a

And,

repeat, I read

READING

for
I

me,

the

at least

never read to

it

(Which

is

ill

easiest ones.

was indisposed,

As

in order to enjoy a brief vacation.

way most

the

But what

Now

and then

look

oftener

The

"

played

is,

must

if I

was the same

it

to the

"Why

to myself:

life

**

Often,

on

leaving

you do

don't

when one means

thing.

pubUc Hbrary

did not, of course, was that

often says "

One

between.

When

like taking a seat in heaven.

reason

painters paint,

point

read with undivided attention and with

would say

the library, I

The

would go of an evening

That was

to read.

read

possessed.

most

writers write and

read soaked dirough.

when

that

it,

the faculties

all

books, not the

seems to me I was always reading in an uncomfortable position.

find.)
stress

difficult

time. I seldom read in bed, unless

kill

or pretending to be

back

most

THE TOILET

IN

life

this

came

pleasure or any

foolish distraction.

From what

have gleaned through

most of the reading which

digests, the picture

the tag ends

all

magazines, the

of

Some,

toilet to read.

done

is

talks

am

Amazing with what

" reading matter,"

what people take

rooms of professional people.

ordeal ahead
as

Or

is it

which

Is it

they say, with current events

teU

me

that these individuab

their share

robberies, war,

are the

same

and night,
get

more

individuals

who go
fresh

who

really

may

to the radio

minds off the painful

Umited observations

war

again,

bank

Undoubtedly

these

suicides,

cold.

to the movies as often as possible

news, more "current events"

know

that

is

insist that

that

^where they

and

All to be informed

worth knowing about

who buy
But what

these dreadfiilly

they devour the papers or glue their ears

(sometimes both at once

of world doings, but

the

keep the radio going most of the day

important, world-shaking events

People

comb through

war, accidents, more war,

and again war, hot and

television sets for their children.

do they

^i.e.

murden, more war,

again,

Their

does in the dentist's

have already absorbed more than

of " current events "

war

disasters,

to the

toilet.

for lost time, " to catch up,"

My own

The

piled high in the waiting

is

to keep their

make up

to

as it

avidity people

as it is called,

friends,

idle reading.

have bookracks in the

told,

reading matter awaits them, so to speak,

office.

is

detective stories, thrillers,

serials,

Hterature, these are

I

with intimate

in the toilet

!)

in order to keep abreast

a sheer delusion.

The

truth

is

that the

265

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

moment

these sorry individuals are not active, not busy, they

become aware of an awesome, sickening emptiness

much,

in themselves.

on what pap they feed, just o long

It

doesn't matter

as

they can avoid coming fece to face with themselves.

on
last

frankly,

on

the issue of the day, or even

To

meditate

one's personal problems,

the

is

thing the normal individual wants to do.

Even

where you would think

in the toilet,

one

least

one,

assume, has his

privacy of the

only the

own

And

who

you

tell

of dreams do they

only in the

that

Poor mothers

Life

toilet

do

indeed hard

is

Yet, compared to the mothers of fifty years ago,

these days.

more opportimity

a thousand times

for self-development.

In your complete arsenal of labor-saving devices

was lacking even to the empresses of old.

you were eager

Each

novels, others read

sort

dreams tinged

will

a minor sort of

some, no doubt, just turn

^what

There are mothers

on you

it

printed matter.

One wonders
are their

they get the chance to read.

you have

for

of reading matter for the

favorite kind

flimsiest crap.

With what

bliss,

Some wade through long

toilet.

fluffiest,

the pages and dream.

dream

moment of

by concentration on

has to be broken
I

at

alone with himself and whatever happens happens

is

automatically, even this

bliss,

unnecessary to

it

where once during the day

do anything, or to think anything,

to save, in acquiring

If it

all

you have what

"
"

was

time

really

these gadgets, then

you

have been cruelly deceived.

There are the children, of course

" the children "

there are always

grounds, baby-sitters, and

a

nap

after

as

approved "

other excuses

foil,

alL

modem "

You

give the kids

as early as

you possibly

Bref, you
They get eliminated,
in the name of science

methods.

as possible.

household chores.

All

efficiency.

(" Francais, encore

un

Yes, dear mothers,

we know

tout petit effort

that

always more waiting to be done.

Whose is,
God
Who

finished.

except

and fmds
266

all

have kindergartens, play-

God knows what

Htde to do with your young

just like the odious

and

You

lunch and you put them to bed

can, all according to

have

When

it

good

wonder

looks

Only

upon

...!")

however much you do

It is

Who
his

true that
rests

on

your job

there
is

is

never

the Seventh Day,

work, when

the Creator, apparendy.

it

is

terminated,

READING
wonder sometimes

work

form of self-praise),

as I say,

with them to the

they have

left

wonder,

toilet,

undone

Or, to put

precious

do they ever think

it

moments of complete privacy

their lot

Do

to take

jobs which

little

another way, does

and meditate upon

sit

are

never finished (an inverted

is

not reading matter, but the

to them, I wonder, to

who

mothers

conscientious

if these

always complaining that their

THE TOILET

IN

it

ever occur

during these

they ever, in such

moments, ask the good Lord for strength and courage to continue
in the path

How

of martyrdom

ancestors ever accomplish

mothers of old,

do a

did our poor impoverished and woefully handicapped

as

all

they did,

we knowfirom

is

what

Some

often wonder.

the lives of great men,

managed

to

Some
Not only

powerfiil lot of reading despite these grave "handicaps."

of them,

it

would almost seem, had time

did they take care of their

own

for everything.

children, teach

them

all

clothes,

their

not only did they wash

clothes (and sometimes the material too),

and iron everybody's

they knew,

make

nurse them, feed them, clean them, play with them,

but some at

least also

managed

to

give their husbands a hand, especially if they were plain country folk.
Countless are the big and Httle things our forbears did unaided
before ever there were labor-saving devices, time-saving devices,
before there were short cuts to knowledge, before there were
kindergartens, nurseries, recreation centres, welfare workers,
pictures

and Federal reUef bureaus of

men were

Perhaps the mothers of our great

reading in the
I

toilet.

If so,

it is

not

also addicted to

commonly known. Nor have

read that omnivorous readerslike Macaulay,

R^my

de Gourmont, for example

cultivated

suspect that these Gargantuan readers

on

would

readers

was always undivided.

It is true,

while eating or while walking

to read and talk at the

cannot

resist

active,

The very

rather

too intent

fact that

they

indicate that their attention

we hear of bibHomaniacs who

read

some have even been

able

perhaps

same time.

reading whatever

Saintsbury and

this habit.

were too

the goal, to waste time in this fashion.

were such prodigious

moving

kinds.

all

There

falls

is

a breed of

men who

within range of their eyes

they will read Uterally anything, even the Lost and Found notices
in the newspaper.

piece

They

are obsessed,

of sound advice

at this

and

we can only pity them.

may not be amiss.

juncture

If

267

;!

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

your bowels refuse to function, consult a Chinese herb doctor

Don't read in order to divert your mind from the business

What

upon

concentration, whether

you

you

If

will.

Something

bothering you.

is

it's

" on your mind

The same

mind and

free

responds

to, is

hand.

at

thorough

what

eating, sleeping, evacuating or

of everything but the business

with a

it

can't eat, can't sleep,

be, in other words.

it

what

the autonomic system Hkes,

of the

true

is

Rid your mind

stool.

Whatever you do,

hand.

at

because something is
" ^where it
shouldn't

a clear conscience.

tackle

That's old advice and

The modem way is to attempt several things at one and

same time, in order " to make the most of one's time," as it is

sound.
the

This

said.

Easy does
take care
practice
If

thoroughly unsound, unhygienic, and

is
**

it !

Take

care

of the

little

ineffectual.

things and the big ones will

of themselves." Everyone hean

Few

that as a child.

ever

it.

it is

of

vital

importance to feed body and mind,

of equal

it is

importance to eliminate from body and mind what has served

W^t

the purpose.

unused, "hoarded," becomes poisonous.

is

That's plain horse sense.

that if

you go

It

follows, therefore, as the night the

to the toilet to eliminate the waste matter

you

has accumulated in your system,

by

" crap."

Would

which
"

is

W.C."
your

for

**

do

and

so very precious to you, if

no

it is

favorite reading matter

do just

alcoholics.

this is

It's

some

^then ask

"

this

Do

pay to ask yourself

**
:

that you are

Dol need this

httle

of reading

this great classic

Even

who

resist

a slight

improvement.

It

reads

so, I say

reading.

that

it

it is

Suppose

you meditated on what

you had read of it, or on what you had heard about

would mark

Supposing

one

" Let us assimie

The Divine Comedy which you are going to

that instead

Why

this ?

to break the habit

only the " world's best Hteraturc " on the stooL

will

life

yourself when reaching

"

I need

when trying
!

insist

people prefer the

a stratagem not to be despised.)

supposing a good deal

you

of one's

negligible portion

the John " to toilet

(Cigarette smokers often

so

is

to yourself that

spent in the toilet each day

or

your mind with

moment of life

on reasoning

doing yourself a disservice

in filling

you, to save time, think of eating and drinking

while using the stool

If every

are

moments

these precious

utilizing

day

which

would be

still

better,

it.

That

however,

268

EADINC
not to mediute on

literature at all

well as your bowels, open.

as

up

offer

bowels

function

and with

by

am

Think what a

takes

It

it

said

some harsh

know him

to the fullest in the water closet.

make

things about the

utmost to keep to the background

idle

" the John "

murder her on the

me recommend

occurs, to these

She

role
is

is.

poor

herself in

devils

who

" Then

know how

is

are at a loss to

when

on

the stool,

is

such a

crisis

their

good half hour.

not masturbating, and she

when you
the

down

know what

is

is

not making

she doing in there ? "

Careful

get to talking to yourself. Don't

your temper get the best of you. Just try to imagine

in there

or

toilet

spot.

wltat in hell

it is

the

about ready to break

the following procedure,

not constipated, she

when his poor overworked,

locks
is

it

Sometimes he

sleep.

Let us say she has been " in there " a

herself pretty.

now

vdfe

for an hour on end he

the door and

tme

lacklustre

much

as

minute or two, he beHeves

so driven, so harried, so abused, that

undernourished,

Let

father,

we know

unappreciated

as a slave-driven,

duty to wash dishes or sing the baby to

feels

let

his

Should he have an

as possible.

his

mother, what

American

In addition to providing the luxuries, as well as the neces-

of Hfe, he does

sities,

modem

This species of pater famiHas,

best.

It

the most of such a situation.

will confine myself to the

only too well, looks upon himself

wretch.

this

no author, not even a dead one, is flattered

work with the drainage system. Not even scato-

modem father

because

in if they

certain that

works can be enjoyed

Having

your

that

time to offer up a prayer of

little

takes a genuine coprophilist to

of the

of thanks

you would be

goes the advantage of being able to take Dante out

associating his

logical

plight

where you can commune with him on more equal

in the sunlight,

terms.

but simply to keep your mind,

you must do something, why not

a silent prayer to the Creator, a prayer

still

were paralyzed
sort,

If

THE TOILET

IN

woman you

that, sitting

once loved so madly that

nothing would do but hitch up with her for

life.

Don't be jealous

of Dante, Balzac, Dostoievsky, if these be the shades she

municating with in there. " Mayhe shes reading the Bible

is

com-

She's

been in there long enough to have read the whole of Deuteronomy."

and you

know how you feel. But it's not the Bible she's reading,
know it. It's probably not The Possessed either, nor

Seraphita,

nor Jeremy Taylor's Holy Limng.

know.

Could be Gone with

269

"

"

"

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

But what matter

the

Wind.

it's

always the thing

Like

answers.

"What

are

this,

The

to try a
example

for

you doing

isbcHcvc mc,

thing

Try

different tack.

brother,

questions and

**

in there, darling

" Reading."
" What, may I ask ? "
" About the Battle of the Mame."

by

(Pretend not to be fazed

**

**

'*

!)

**

What was
I

Continue

this.

thought perhaps you were brushing up on your Spanish."

said

'*

No,

**

Let

is it

it*s

me

dear

that,

good yam

"
i

borii^."

you something eke."

" What's that, dear i "
" I saidwould you like a cool drink while you're wading through
get

that stuff?"

"What
*

**

The
Oh,

stuflf?"

of the Mame."

Battle

I'm on something else now."

" Darling, do you need any reference books ?
" You bet I do. I'd like an abridged dictionaryWebster's,
finished that.

if

you don't mind."

" Mind
**

No

It's

a pleasure.

I'll

fetch

dear, the abridged will do.

(Here run up and down,

"Darling,

you

It's

the unabridged."

easier to hold."

as if searching for the dictionary.)

can't find either the abridged or the unabridged.

Will the encyclopaedia do

word, a date, or
" Dearest, what I'm
.

What

you're looking

it

is

for

really looking for

" Yes, dear, of course.

I'll

is

peace and quiet."

just clear the table,

and put the children to bed. Then

if you

Hke

I'll

wash the

dishes,

read to you.

book on Nostradamus."
dear. But I'd rather just go on

I've

just discovered a wonderfiil

" You're so thoughtfiil,

" Reading what > "
"

It's

called

Napoleon and

The Memoirs of Marshal Joffre, with a foreword by

of the major campaigns by a professor

a detailed study

they

of military strategy

Does
270

that

reading."

don't give his

answer your question, dearest

name ! at West
?

Point.

READING
"

Perfectly.

(At

point

this

you make

for the axe in the

no woodshed, invent

one.

Make

were grinding the axe

Minutten in

Here
a

THE TOILET

IN

is

^Uke

an alternative suggestion.

copy of

woodshed. If there

a noise with your teeth, as if

is

you

Mysteries.)

When

she

is

not looking place

Balzac's About Catherine de Medici in the water closet.

Put a marker

at

page 169 and underscore the following passage

The Cardinal had just found himself deceived by

The crafty Italian had seen in the younger
branch of the Royal Family an obstacle she could use to
Catherine.

check the pretensions of the Guises ; and, in spite of the

two Gondis, who advised her to leave
the Guises to act vdth what violence they could against
the Bourbons, she had, by warning the Queen of Navarre,
brought to nought the plot to seize Beam concerted by the
Guises with the King of Spain. As this State secret was
known only to themselves and to Catherine, the Princes
of Lorraine were assured ofher betrayal, and they vdshed
to send her back to Florence ; but to secure proofe of
Catherine's treachery to the State the House of Lorraine
was the State the Duke and Cardinal had just made her
privy to their scheme for making away with the King of
Navarre.
counsel of the

The advantage of
that

it

giving her a text like this to wresde with

is

mind completely off her houshold duties and

a frame of mind to discuss history, prophecy or symboHsm

will take her

put her in

with you for the

rest

of the evening.

read the introduction written

She

may even be

by George

tempted to

Saintsbury, one of the

world's greatest readers, a virtue or vice which did not prevent

from writing

him

tedious and superfluous prefaces or introductions to

other people's works.

I

could, of course, suggest other absorbing books, notably one

called Nature and

and a

Man, by Paul Weiss, a professor of philosophy

of the first water merely, but of the " waters

logician, not

reglitterized," a ventriloquist able to twist the brains

pundit into a Gordian knot.

and not

lose a shred

predigested

by

pure thought.

of

is

can read

at

his distillated logic.

the author.

Here

One
The

a sample,

text

from

is

of a rabbinical

random

in this

work

Everything has been

comprised of nothing but

on " Inference "

the section

271

THE BOOKS IN MY LIPB

necessary infefence difiers

&oin a contingent one

in

that die premise alone suffices to warrant the conclusion.

In a necessary inference there

is

only a logical relation

between premise and conclusion ; there is no principle

which provides content for the conclusion.
Such an
inference is derivable from a contingent inference by
treating the contingent principle as a premise. C. S. Pierce
seems to have been the first to discover this truth. * Let
the premises of any argument,* he said, * be denoted by
P, the conclusion by C, and the principle by L. Then if
the whole principle be expressed as a premise the argument
will become L and P .*. C.
But this new argument
must also have its principle which may be denoted by
L'. Now, as L and P (supposing them to be true), contain
determine the probable or necessary
V. Thus L' must be contained
in the principle, whether expressed in the premise or not.
Hence every argimient has, as portion or its principle, a
certain principle which cannot be eliminated from its
all

that

is

requisite to

truth of C, they contain

Such a principle may be termed a logical priti'

Every principle of inference, Pierce's observation
makes clear, contains a logical principle by which one
can rigorously proceed from a premise and the original
principle to the conclusion. Any result in nature or mind,
therefore, is a necessary consequence of some antecedent
and of some coune i^ch starts from that antecedent
and terminates in that result.*
principle.

ciple*

The

reader

may wonder why

Phenomenology of Mind, which

the

whole nutcracker

stein,

suite

of

Korzybski, Gurdjieff

Vaihinger's Philosophy of

Diringer

Why

is

have not suggested Hegersj

the acknowledged cornerstone ol

intellectual hocus-pocus,

&

Co'.

Why

As If?

Ot

not, indeed

or Wittge
!

Why

not

The Alphabet by David^

not The Ninety-Five Theses of Luther or

Sir

Why

not

Walter Raleigh's Preface

to the

History of the World ?

Milton's Areopagitica ? All lovely books. So edifying, so instructive.

Ah

me,

if

our poor American pater familias were to take

problem of reading in the

toilet to heart, if

he were to give

thought to the most effective means of breaking

list

what

of books might he not devise for a Five-Foot Privy Shelf

With

a Htde ingenuity he

would manage

of the habit or break her mind in the

* Nature and Man, by Paul

272

this habit,

this

serious

Wdss

either to cure his wife

process.

Henry Holt & Co.,

New York,

1947-

RBADING

THE TOILBT

IN

he were truly ingenious he might think up a substitute for

If

He

pernicious reading habit

of the

'*

this

might, for example, line the walls

watterre/* as the French call

it,

with paintings.

How pleasant

soothing, lenitive and educational, while answering the call of Nature,

to let the eye

roam over

starterRomncy,

a few choice masterpieces of art

and the Albright brothers.

Soutine, Breughel the Elder

of

are

art, incidentally,

**

watterre

**

himself embroidering in

This, since

At

it

motto such

as

point

Home

knows,

it

might

of the stool in record time

this

basic-basic," to use the

Or he might, in his
many colored silks a

off-moments, busy
quaint motto to be

wherever you hang your

is

involves a moral, might captivate her in

Who

unimaginable.

**

more

of her eyes when she takes her accustomed place

at the level

in the " wattm-e," a

clutches

Or,

with Saturday Evening Post covers or the covers of

language of dianetics.

hat.

(Works

autonomic system.)

affront to the

Time, than which nothing could be

hung

Wood,

not run in these directions, he could line the walls of

if her taste did

the

no

For a

Watteau, Dali, Grant

Gainsborough,

think

it

ways

from the cloying

free her

important to mention the fact that science

has just discovered the efficacy, the dierapeutic efficacy, of Love.

Sunday supplements

are full

of this

Flying Saucers and Cybernetics,

of the age. The

fact that

subject.

is is

Next

The

to Dianetics, die

apparently the great discovery

even psychiatrists now recognize the validity

of love gives the stamp of approval which (seemingly) Jesus the

Christ, The Light of the World, was unable to provide. Mothers,

now awakened to this ineluctable fiict, will no longer have a problem

in dealing with their children, nor, "ipso facto," in dealing with
their husbands.

inmates
arms.

Wardens

will be

emptying the prisons of

The millennium

is

just

beings will
still

still

be confronted with the problem of

physical one.

To

their
their

of the millennium, human

be obliged to repair to the water

spent therein most profitably.

throw away

to

around the comer.

Nevertheless, and despite the approach

will

men

generals will be ordering their

closet daily.

how

This problem

is

They

to use the time

virtually a

meta-

give oneself up completely to the emptying of

one's bowels would, at

first

natural thing in the world.

blush,

To

seem the

perform

nothing of us but complete abeyance.

this

easiest

and the most

function Nature asks

The only

collaboration she

273


THE BOOKS IN MY
demands

is

Creator,

when

were

LiPfi

on our

the willingness

it is

only too obvious that if such

breathing, sleeping, defecating

would

us

organism, realized that

were allowed

better for us if certain functions

themselves

were

left

plenty of people, and they are not

vital functions as

some of

There arc

toilet.

in the asylum either,

all

eat, sleep,

to the

it

of

to take care

to our disposition,

go

cease to breathe, sleep, or

no reason why we should

Evidendy the

part to let go.

human

designing the

who

see

They not

breathe or defecate.

only question the laws which govern the universe, they question
the intelHgence

of their

own organism. They ask why, not to know,

but to render absurd what

is

beyond

their limited inteUigence to

They look upon the demands of the body

wasted. How then do they spend their time, these
grasp.

Are they completely

so

is

much

**

at the service

good work "

to

do

of mankind

so

as

that they cannot see the sense

spending time eating, drinking, sleeping and defecating

indeed be interesting to
speak of

*'

know what

have often wondered,

moment we

the greater part of our

life

of all

is

the

sorts

body

everything

poHtic.

if

of

would

mean when they

suddenly

think of perfect functioning

image of society

retain the

It

we were

what we would do with our

privileged to function perfecdy,

For the

these people

>

wasting time."

Time, time ...

all

time

because there

Is it

much

superior beings

as it

now

is

we

time.

can no longer

constituted.

We

spend

in contending against maladjustments

out of whack, from the

human body

to

Assuming the smooth functioning of the human

body, with the correlative smooth functioning of the social body,

" What would we do with our time ? " To limit the problem
I ask :
for the

moment

to one phase only

readingtryt

beg you, to

imagine what books, what sort of books, one would then consider
necessary or

worth while giving time

the reading problem

falls

away.

one, to get
real or

We

read

&om

this

now,

away from

as I see

The moment one

it,

primarily for these reasons

five, to

be stimulated to greater, higher

reasons

274

or to impress them, one and the same thing

going on in the world

studies

two, to arm ourselves against

three, to " keep up " with our neighbors,

ourselves

imaginary dangers

to.

angle almost the whole of Uterature

might be added, but

four, to

know what is

enjoy ourselves, which means to

activity

and richer being.

these five appear to

me

Other

to be the prin-

READING

and

cipal ones

importance, if

have given them in the order of

know my

fellow man.

was well with the world, only the

sway

at present,

last

reason, the

would be vaHd. The

would be no reason

because there

their current

docs not take

It

much

one were right with himself and

reflection to conclude that, if

least

THE TOIIET

IN

others

all

one which holds

would

for their existence.

fade away,

And even

the

last-named, given the ideal conditions mentioned, would have Uttle or

no hold over

There

us.

and always have been, a few rare

are,

who no longer have need of books, not even holy "

books.
And these are precisely the enHghtened, the awakened
ones. They know full well what is going on in the world. They
do not regard Me as a problem or an ordeal but as a privilege and a
**

individuals

They

blessing.

seek not to

They

wisdom.

greed, hatred or rivalry.

time detached.
ticipate direcdy.

holy

way

whole

themselves with knowledge but with

fill

are not riddled

They

with

because they see

do

whole and

life

tliese

is

the reason

whoever

at the

are themselves thoroughly

why

there have

many

been

this

query, many.

answers

is

them moving

Some view

in prayer

life

these rare

and meditation

of life, performing any and

in the midst

but never making themselves conspicuous. But no matter

upon

these rare souls,

disagreement there

way of

may be

them

utterly

as to the

from the

rest

their personaHty, their raison

on

hands

These

to respond to a
for them.

call.

They Uvc

men

puts hmits

on

his

one

common, one which

in

d*^e

all

tim

are never in a hurry, never too

busy

moment and

moment is an eternity. Every

how

of mankind and gives the

The problem of time

in the

some

vaUdity or the cflScacy of their

men have

key to

all tasks,

no matter how much or how Htde

one quaHty these

Hfe,

distinguishes

their

because

able to put such a question to himself has a different

is

type of " imique " individual in mind.

looks

same

unique individuals spend their time ?

individuals as passing their

sec

and

whole and holy.

Ah, there have been many answers given to

And

ambition, envy,

They enjoy everything they do because they parThey have no need to read sacred books or act in a

and thus everything to them

How

fear, anxiety,

are deeply involved,

they

is

have

simply nonexistent

they are aware that each

wc know
men have nothing

other type of individual that

" free " time.

These other

but free time.

275

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

you

If I could give
closet, it

no

bear

would be

a thought to take with you daily to the water

" Meditate on free time " Should this thought

then go back to your books, your magazines, your

fruit,

newspapers, your digests, your comic

Arm

strips,

your

And when you

yourselves, forget yourselves, divide yourselves.

have done

thriller-dillen.

inform yourselves, prepare yourselves, amuse

yourselves,

of gold,

these things (including the burnishing

all

as

Ccnnini recommends), ask yoturselves if you are stronger, wiser,

more contented

happier, nobler,

but that

is

for you to discover

^is

on

rail

one

quoi

!)

and

One

could manage to

two footpads and

sit,

one

One wants
feet

to get

wet

we

after

and-bath

is

have done our

with truly

Break ...

A
It

me

dream.

done with

was a

was an

light sleep

fitfiil starts,

old, old

mein

comes back to

linger there

It

might not seem so to people

was taking a nap outdoors

half-asleep half-awake, there

recurrent

occasions.
associations

At

then

is

not

begin to rack

which

this present

dream

usually

to

of a

At times

my

it

comes

doubt

if

it

brain to recall

once kept safely hidden away

moment

as clear as

Nevertheless, the aura of

which

came

exact, the fragment

again and again.

die tide of a series of books

in a Utde vault.

in

broken by the buzzing of a torpid

dream, and a very wonderfril one, which

parts

And

ever was a dream.

^76

as

vital functions,

we

back so vividly, even though through a chink, that

this

it

Americans,

The combination of toilet-

remembrance of a dream, or to be
It

(Les

take a bath in a separate part of the

as absurd.

few moments ago

In one of my
the

no

a hand-

delicate susceptibiHties.

a heavy fog.
fly.

business.

To

to us just ducky.

house would strike us

and

is

squats.

We

through disguising whatever has to do with the

end up by making " the John " so attractive that
long

There

tourist quail.

doesn't

not get one's

as possible

according

closet

In these quaint retreats the thought of

reading never enters one's head.

soon

of water
equilibrist

a hole in the floor with

either side for support.

vraies chiottes,

will not be,

finds in Europe, France especially,

American

the ordinary

no bowl, just

scat,

one in which only an

to the kind

I refer

which makes

know you

a curious thing, but the best kind

It is

to the medicos
read.

beings.

the nature and content of

it

has been

it is still

accompany th?

on previous

strong, as well as the

recall,


READING

A moment
this

dream

ago

was

it

that

thought of

in connection with the toilet, but then suddenly I recalled

coming out of

that in

why

was wondering

THE TOILET

IN

my

or half out of

fitful sleep,

it,

brought

with me, so to speak, the frightfiil odor of the toilet which was
secreted in " the storm shed ** at home in that neighborhood which
I always telescope into " the street of early sorrows."
In winter

was a

it

cubicle

veritable ordeal to take refuge in this air-tight, sub-zero

which was never

taper in sweet

But

was something

there

of these days long

past.

index given in the

last

my memory.

refresh

by a

illuminated, not even

else

which

precipitated the

morning

Just this

volume of The Harvard

As always,

the

remembrance

was glancing over the

Classics, in order to

mere thought of this

collection

awakens memories of gloomy days spent in the parlor

with these bloody volumes.

mind

house,

was

usually

in

when

literature as

wing of the
waded through such

retreated to this funereal

I

ever

Rabbi Ben Ezra, The Chambered Nautilus, Ode

I Promessi Sposi, Samson Agonistes, William

fowl,

of Nations, The Chronicles of

and such

biography

like.

John

Froissart,

believe

upstairs

Considering the morose frame of

cannot help but marvel that

now

that

it

a Water-

to

The Wealth

Tell,

Stuart Mill's Auto-

was not the cold fog

but the leaden weight of those days upstairs in the parlor,

was struggling with authors for

me

whom

with a
in a

spirits

for

making

of magic books

set

me

recall this

had no
If so,

must thank

dream which has

prized so highly that

and never have been able to find them again.

should be of more importance to

subsequently

inventing

titles,

Obviously

my

me

than anything

must have read them in

Now

contents, author, everything.

mentioned before, with

flashes

go almost

which holds the

title,

have read

my

sleep,

as

of the dream there come sometimes

frantic, for there

clue to the entire

contents, meaning,

Is

youth,

and then,

vivid recollections of the very texture of the narrative.

its

do
away

hid them

their

to

vault

little

moments

when I
made

relish, that

not strange that these books, books belonging to

it

sleep so fitfully just a Httle while ago.

departed

wax

flickering

oil.

comes

is

At such

one book among the

work, and

this particular

at times to the

series

book,

very threshold

of consciousness.

One of

the hazier, fuzzier,

more tormenting

aspects connected

377

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

recall is that I

was

am always reminded^by whom

with the

that

that

it

read these magic books.

that they are

where

house

this

The

conviction

exactly,

is

whom

read them, but

belonged

it

upon me

forced

is

secreted in the house wherein

still

by what

neighborhood of Fort Hamilton (Brooklyn)

in the

to,

what

business

brought

me

recollect

today about Fort Hamilton are the bike rides to and in

have not the

there, I

which

the vicinity

consumed with

my

sweetheart.

Like a

covered the same routine trajectory

^Dyker

^whenever

I left

in thoughts

of her

Heights, Bensonhurst, Fort Hamilton

So engrossed was

thinking of her.

my

absolutely unconscious of

of a car

right fender

a somnambulist.

The

was

heaviness

my

roused from

whenever

herded like

entirely in

by

reverie

my

was
rear

Occasionally

hands.

would be

my

the whizzing of a golf ball over

would bring me

men

to,

are

experience a feeling almost of nausea.

But

you

intermissionsor " remissions "

also pleasant

when swinging

if

into Bensonhurst where,

afternoons, a

young man

hopelessly in love, an absolute

utterly indifferent to everything else in the world. If I

into a

too

my

had spent such marvelous days with Joey and Tony.

time had changed everything
I was now, on these Saturday

boy,

How

along like

trailing

hung heavy on

heart.

that

espy miUtary quarters, quarters where

Always, for instance,

like.

the house

might be hugging the

an hour or

at forty miles

can't say that time

cattle, I

were

there

as a

body

Occasionally the sight of the barracks

head.
for

first

book

much

mooncalf

threw myself

was only to forget the pain of a love which was

it

for me.

The bike was

had the sensation of taking

my

my

Astride the bike,

refuge.

painful love for an airing.

The

panorama which unrolled before me, or receded behind me, was

thoroughly dreamlike

might

just as well

Whatever

have been riding a

looked

Sometimes, in order

suppose not to tumble

off the wheel in sheer despair and chagrin,

would encourage

treadmill before a stage

mind me of

to

her.

fatuous fancies

which

us say, that in

making

there to greet

me and

^but she.

378

set.

assail

If she failed

at served

only

those

the lovelorn, the wisp of a hope, let

bend

in the road

who

when

took on lonely Saturday afternoons

a forlorn love for

ghost on wheels,

All that I can

faintest notion.

should be standing

with such a warm, gracious, lovely smile

to " materialize " at this point I would lead
!


READING
myself to believe that

it

would be

THE TOILET

IN

some other

at

which, with prayers and propitiations,

point, towards

would proceed

to rush full

speed, only to arrive there breathless and again deceived.

Undoubtedly the mysterious magical nature of those dream books

my

had to do, and were inspired by,

I

pent-up longing for

this girl

Undoubtedly, somewhere in the

could never catch up with.

neighbourhood of Fort Hamilton, in brief moments so black, so

grief-ridden, so desolate, so uniquely

my very

of

have broken again and again.

Yet

my

own,

am

this I

heart

certain

must
those

They were beyond

such
such what ? They dealt with unutterable things. Even
now, foggy and time-bitten as the dream is in remembrance, I
books had nothing
.

can

to

do with the subject of love.

such dim, shadowy, yet revelatory elements

recall

on a throne

a hoary, wizard-like figure seated

chess pieces), holding in his hands a

bunch of

as these

in ancient stone

heavy keys

large,

and he resembles neither Hermes

ancient Swedish money),

(like

(as

Trismegistus nor Apollonius of Tyana, nor even dread Merlin,

more

but

is

tell

me

like

Noah

or Methuselah.

something beyond

my

been longing and aching to know.

This figure
is

is

whole

may be called that

series.

and,

for

it is

as I

have emphasized,

say,

is

series

^it

want of a

better

word, "forbidden"

As

sustained

moment of godlike

benefit

But

fancy.

^what aggravates the

recall the fact that I did

volume but

ah, think

of

it

And of course

of irreparable
of

this

lost,

beyond

loss

for my

situation, in the

dream,

especial
is

that I

begin the reading of the missing

for no obvious,

hidden reason, certainly for no good reason,

of guilt.

if legend,

flights

had been telescoped and compressed into one long

description,

can always

have

Up to this point in the narra-

and myth, combined with supra-sensual

secret, doubtless.)

adventures of the most dazzling variety and nature.

history

so clear, to

that to throughout the preceding

has been a
of unearthly,

volumes of the dream collection

interplanetary,

trying,

(A cosmic

out of the key book which,

is

the missing link in the

tive, if it

He

comprehension, something

apparent, or even

dropped

it.

sense

smothers, Hterally flattens out, any rising sense

Why, why, I ask myself, had I not continued the reading

Had I done so, the book would never have been

book

nor the others

contents, loss

either.

In the

dream the double

loss

of book itselfis accentuated and presented

of

loss

as one.

279

THB BOOKS
There

is

In The Rosy Crucifixion

it.

home,

to the old

visits

LIFB

another feature connected with

still

mother's part in

my

MY

IN

youthful belongings

made

visits

dream

this

my

have described

my

expressly to recover

particularly certain books which would,

some unaccountable

become on

reason, suddenly

very precious to me. As

my

I relate it,

for

these occasions

mother seems to have taken

a perverse delight in telling me that she had "long ago" given

" To whom ? " I would demand, beside
these old books away.

She could never remember,

myself.

Or,

if she did

had long

remember, the

since

it

moved away, and of

was always so long ago.

whom

brats to

and

where they Hved, nor did she think

on her

part

that

And

this time.

Good Will

had given them

no longer knew

was ever gratuitous

this

they would have kept these childish books

Some

so on.

all

she had given, so she confessed, to the

Society or to the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul.

me

This sort of talk always drove

moments,

she

course she

would

books whose

titles

recklessly given

frantic.

Sometimes, in waking

to myself if those missing

had vanished from memory

books

flesh-and-blood

wonder

actually

my

which

mother

dream

were not

utterly

had

real

thoughdessly,

away.

Of course, all the time I was up there in the parlor wading through
the dreary five-foot shelf, my mother was just as baffled by this
behavior

as

She could not

it struck me to do.
could " waste " a beautiful afternoon reading

by everything which

understand

how

That

those soporific tomes.

why
she

was miserable she knew, but

was miserable she had never the

would

express the thought that

it

was the books which depressed

me. And of coune they did help to depress

me more

they contained no remedy for what ailed me.

myself in
flies

my sorrows,

keeping

me

as to

Occasionally

faintest idea.

and the books were

like so

deeply

since

wanted to drown

many

fat,

buzzing

my very scalp itch with boredom.

awake, making

How I jumped the other day when I read in one of Marie CorelU's
now
is

forgotten books

the exclamation of

and by reason of

test all things

Give us something

The

that will

things

we

ephemeral nature are worthless.

call

our

own

forever

that appear to give

element in man, and

280

'

weary humanity.

their

what we can keep and

and

"

when we

*
!

This

is

endure

have

pass,

Give us

why we

try

proof of the supersensual

find ourselves deceived

by impostors

READING

THE TOILET

IN

and conjurors, our disgust and disappointment arc too

bitter to

even find vent in words."

There

another dream, concerning another book, which

is

of in The Rosy
in

Crucifixion.

there appears a big

it

I tell

a very, very strange dream, and

It is

book which

this girl I

loved (the same one

I)

and another person (her unknown lover probably) are reading over

my shoulder.
I

mention

it

come about

my ovm book mean a book which I wrote myself.

^I

that the missing

what whole

series

If I

It is

only to suggest that by

series ?

had been able to write

a waking dream

Is

one

have ventured to hazard

add

time
this

in

this

mystery

book which

dig this

by myself and no

^was written

from another

state so different

this

other.

dream why could I not rewrite it in

in a

Since

much, why not complete the thought and

have never given overdy.)

is I

my

began to write in earnest

all latitudes

one

desire has

guts,

make

you might

say

^who

away
is

my belt,
To

vicissitudes.

warm, Hving,

it

my whole aim and preoccupation

vault,

and

travails

appears in onirific flashes hidden

dream of a

from the

Yes,

been to unload

have carried about with me, deep under

and longitudes, in aU

book out of my

has been

who

it

would

it

my whole purpose in writing has been to clear up a mystery.

that

(What

the laws of logic

all

dream book, the key to the whole

palpable

that

That hoary wizard

in a tiny vault

he but myself,

my

most

He holds a bunch of keys in his hands, does

And he is situated in the key center of the whole mysterious

ancient, ancient self i

he not

edifice.

Well, what is that missing book, then, if not " the story of my

names

heart," as Jefferies so beautifiiUy

man has to tell but this

teU, the

That

we

one which

we

brain.

what

can

most hidden, most

we

Is

there

any other story a

we

abstruse,

is

most mystifying

a signal thing.

What

are

be reading in the darkness of unconscious-

our inmost thoughts

Occasionally

it.

And is this not the most di5cult one of all to

read even in our dreams

reading,

ness, save

is

Thoughts never cease to

stir

the

perceive a difference between thoughts

and thought, between that which thinks and the mind which

is all

thought. Sometimes, as if through a tiny crevice, we catch a glimpse

of our dual

self

Brain

is

not mind, that

If it were possible to localize the seat

to situate

it

transformer,

in the heart

we may

of mind, then

But the heart

is

it

be certain of

would be

truer

merely a receptacle, or

by means of which thought becomes recognizable and

281

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

effective.

Thought has

made

to pass through the heart to be

active

and meaningful.
is

book which

being, and

is

the record of our being.

There

continue

reborn that
is

tale

whole

after death.

it

we

bring

series

Our

being,

it

say,

when we

only

It is

and not

What we

are

all

authors, but

we

Thus

is

there

birth, continue the

are not

all

and

heralds

bring to Ught of the hidden record

with our baptismal name, which

be

are about to

to a close and write " Finis."

of books which, from birth to

We

of identity.

prophets.

of our being, contained in our

part

We commence the writing of this book at birth and

our becoming.

we

is

never the real name.

we

sign

But

it is

only a tiny, tiny fraction of the record which even the best of

us,

the strongest, the most courageous, the most gifted, ever bring to

Ught.

What cramps

our

portions of the record

of writing

of reading.
is
is

never

what

falsifies

the narrative, are those

lose,

but what

we do

sometimes

lose

is

art

the art

When we encounter an adept in this art the gift of sight

restored to us.

It is

the gift for interpretation, naturally, for to read

always to interpret.

The
is

we

style,

which we can no longer decipher. The

universahty of thought

supreme and paramount. Nothing

is

What

beyond comprehension or understanding.

desire to

know,

meaning to whatever thought be voiced.

against

The Holy

whatever form

we

Ghost.

manifests

it

Drugged by
itself,

it

and

its

But

let

the

the great sin

assumes many,

many

forms,

in the deepest sense,

is,

we

in the afterworld because

us return to Us cabinets,

some

it

Acedia

divine parentage.

what we have written here and now

and, for

is

has been ahandoned, but because

obstinately refiises to recognize

book of life

us

the pain of deprivation, in

Humanity

take refuge in mystification.

an orphannot because

the

fails

the desire to read or interpret, the desire to give

reftise

to understand

which

is

the French for toilet

baffling reason, used always in the plural.

my readers may recall a passage,

it

We terminate

one in which

Some of

give tender reminis-

cences of France, concerning a hurried visit to the toilet and die

wholly unexpected view of Paris which

this tight place.*

Would

it

had firom the window of

not be fetching, some people think,

* See the chapter called " Remember to Remember

Rjtmember to Retnember ; New Directions, New York.

282

*'

from

my

book,

READING
home

to SO build one's

command

not matter in the

panorama

what

least

from the

that

a breath-taking

the

in going to the toilet,

you have

besides yourself, besides

your

THE TOILET

IN

thought

view from the

that

is

toilet

window

book

build a

may

own vital need to eliminate and cleanse

In that case

view from

and otherwise beautify

paintings,

whole world around " the John."

house remain subordinate to the

of

seat

Let the

as

well

this lieu

make

it its

business to eUminate

" in everyday

deleterious

Ufe.

Do

But do

a heavenly place.

toilet to

that

all

is

rest

art

of eHmination,

ugly, useless, evil and

and you will

that

of the

supreme function.

this

Bring forth a race which, highly conscious of the

"

you may

as

build your

will

If,

you

Then, instead of going outdoors and seeking a bo-trec,

well sit in " the bathroom ** and meditate. If necessary,

d*aisance.

one

hang

shelf,

does

be.

to take something else with

a desideratum.

is

it

may

the system, then perhaps a beautiful or a breath-taking

die toilet

one could

toilet seat itself

My

making

not, while

raise the

use of this

sacred retreat, waste your time reading about the elimination of this

or

nor even about eUmination

that,

who

the people

pray or meditate, and those

is

that the

Lord
if

latter are

old saying

"

difference

who go

between

whether to read,

there only to

do

their business,

former always find themselves with unfinished business on

hand and the

The

The

itself.

secrete themselves in the toilet,

There's

is

always ready for the next move, the next

" Keep your bowels open and

wisdom

you keep your system

your mind

free

and

in
free

clear,

it.

Broadly speaking,

means

it

open and receptive

you

will cease

such

the cosmos should be run, for example

done in peace and

contained in

this

tranquillity.

homely

bowels open, you should

that

of poison you will be able to keep

worrying about matters which are not your concern

to be

act.

trust in the

as

how

and you will do what has

There

is

no

hint or suspicion

piece of advice that, in keeping

also struggle to

your

keep up with world events,

or keep abreast of current books and plays, or familiarize yourself

with the

latest fashions,

the most glamorous cosmetics, or the funda-

mentals of basic English.

curt

the very

going to the
if it

Indeed, the whole impHcation of this

the done about the

seriousand neither absurd nor

maxim is

toilet.

less

The key words

be argued that to read while

better. I say

it

are

**

"

it,"

meaning

disgustingbusiness of
open " and '* trust." Now,

sitting

on

the stool

is

an aid to

383

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

loosening the bowek, then

Read

possible.

the second injunction

vinced that

more

apt to have

is

" to

most

the

lenitive Hterature

and

Lord

faith

and

and

Indeed,

in the toilet
faith

Lord." Myself,

trust in the

have

possible to

Holy Writ

reading
is

it is

sayread

the Gospels, for the Gospels are of the

trust in the
I

am

Lord

tnist in the

am

con-

Lord without

convinced that one

if one reads

nothing

at all in the toilet

When you
when

make

should

He

should,

The whole universe is

more and more, there are
keeping tabs on us, be certain
not.

believe

most

it

enough

^in

make

the

toilet.

discussed.

It

own private affair.

concerned. If, as we are led to
creatures from other planets who

assumed diat what one does in the

are

an analyst

should even

It

do not read

read or

arc unfortimately not widely

Such matters

To

you read one kind of Htera-

and another elsewhere.

him whether you

difference to

It is

you know.

a great difference whether

ture in the toilet

is

your analyst does he ask you what you read

visit

using l^e stool

what

earth,

of our

toilets

to meditate

is

that they are prying into

our

If they are able to penetrate the atmosphere

secret doings.

of this

toilet is one's

to stop

them from

penetrating the locked doors

Give that a thought when you have nothing better

upon

^in

there. Let

me urge those who are experiment-

ing vdth rockets and other interstellar means of communication and

transportation to think for a brief moment of how they

when

to the denizens of other worlds

Yorkeft let us say, in

" the John."

about your inmost being, but

it

must appear

reading Time or The

What you

does not

tell

New

good

deal

everything.

The

fact,

read

tells

however, that you are reading when you should be doing has a
certain importance.

It is

a characteristic

would remark immediately.

planet

which men

alien to this

might well influence

It

their

judgment of us.

And

if,

merely

to change the tune,

terrestrial beings,

we

Hmit ourselves to the opinion of

but beings

the picture does not alter much.

who are alert and discriminating,

There

is

not only something

grotesque and ridiculous about poring over the printed page while
seated

on

the stool, there

element evinces

logical

combined with

Why
284

is

it

is

something

mad

itself clearly

eating, for example, or

not equally arresting

about

it.

This patho-

enough when reading

is

with taking a promenade.

when we

observe

it

connected

READING
with the
these

of defecation

act

two

things simultaneously

become an opera

intended to

you began

toilet

there anything natural about doing

Is

singing was

all

in

you

to you,

though you never

that,

time you went to the

singer, every

Supposing

insisted that the

to " the John."

when you went

could sing was

Supposing

practicing the scales.

all

THB TOILBT

IN

simply said that you sang in the

Or

supposing you

you had nothing

because

toilet

though

that,

only time you

better to do.

Would

this is the sort

of alibi people give when they are pressed to explain

that hold water in an alienist's cabinet

why they must read in

To merely open the

the

But

toilet.

bowels, then,

is

not enough

Must one

indude Shakespeare, Dante, William Faulkner and the whole galaxy

of pocket-book authors

become

Once upon

company one had

Dear me,

how

the sun or the stars, the song

of killing two birds with one

stone.

It

to connect

it

it

and an

behavior

such

Through
said to

now

know

beings

in space

takes a higher mathematician,

appears to be highly complex.

Nothing

become
shall

if

cows could

question which

fly

angels, are

now

are

Primitive emotions,

who

in the next fifty

going to develop into interplanetary

certainly predictable
closets

even out there

Wherever we go, "the

"

What

That joke has become antediluvian.

The

Formerly

we used to

ask

imposes, in view of projected voyages beyond

the gravitational pull,

we

is

us, I notice.

"

a wonder any

it is

We are the creatures who, though

have our water

John " accompanies

simple

is

prove to be terribly complex.

are the people, heaven forbid,

Well, one thii^

we

that

anything about anything. Even instinctive

years are going to conquer space

scorning to

This

Lord.

and experiment the sUghest things

analysis

as fear, hate, love, anguish, all

And we

nor

astrophysicist, to explain the

have assumed such complicated proportions that

one can be

killing time,

tnist in the

simple functioning of the autonomic system.

any more.

of the birds or the

with the movement of the bowels would have seemed

also a metaphysician

is

has

For

Lord was so impHcit a part of man's nature

blasphemous and absurd. Nowadays

who

life

do.

was just a matter of letting

There wasn't even the thought of

trusting in the

would

There was no question of

hooting of an owl.

go.

complicated

a time any old place

is

no longer subjea

'*
:

How

to the

will our organs function

sway of gravity

"

when

Traveling at a

?85

THE BOOKS

IN

MY

LIPE
of thought

rate faster than the speed

we may

be able to accomplish

out there between the

model space

that the

laboratories,

as

and planets

stars

There

ing to

on

it

has been hazarded that

be able to read

new

time-space explorers will

their toilet literature.

the nature of

something to conjure upon

is
!

at all

ask because I assume

ship will be equipped with lavatories as well

and, if so, our

undoubtedly bring with them

literature

!will we

this

this interspatial

We used to sec questionnaires from time to time demand-

know what weVould

No

a deserted island.

a questionnaire as to

read if

i.e.,

going to take refuge

knowledge, has yet framed

what would make good reading on

in space. If we are going to get the

questionnaire,

we were

my

one, to

Homer, Dante,

same old answers to

Shakespeare, ct Cie,

the stool

this

coming

I shall

indeed

be cruelly disappointed.

That
I

first

ship to leave the earth, and possibly never

would not give

Mcthinks

the

to

know

books

the tides of the books

have

it

returnwhat
will contain

been written which will

not

oflfer

mental, moral and spiritual sustenance to these daring pioneers.

The

great possibility, as

read at

on

all,

I sec it, is

not even in the

toilet

men may not

may be content to

that these

care to

they

time in

the angels, to listen to the voices of the dear departed, to cock

their ears to catch the ceaseless celestial song.

286

XIV
THE THEATRE
Dbama

is

that

My

other.

almost seems as if

it

seven

of

the one category

more than any

started

which

literature into

have delved

passion for the theatre goes so far back

were

bom

From

backstage.

the age of

going to the vaudeville house called The Novelty,

on Drigg*s Avenue, Brooklyn. I always went to the Saturday

"
matinfe. And alone. The price of admission to " nigger heaven
was then a dime.
get a

good

(It

was the golden period when you

with the broadest, squarest shoulders

ex-pugilist

stood guard over us with a stout rattan stick.

individual better than
the villain

The

who

first

play

a tiny tot and, as

whatever.

any of the

dominated

my

was taken
I recall it,

to

acts

could

or actors

have ever seen,

remember

saw

there.

this

He was

troubled dreams.

was

Uttcle

the play

My

Toms

Cabin.

was

just

made no impression upon me

do, however, recall that

throughout the performance.

really

The doorman. Bob Maloney, an

cigar for ten cents.)

my

mother wept copiously

mother loved

these tear jerkers.

know how many times I was dragged to see The Old Home"
(with Denman Thompson), Way Down East, and similar

don't

stead

favorites.

There were two other

theatres in this

neighbourhood (The Four-

Ward) to which I was also taken by my mother at intervals

The Amphion and Corse Payton's. Corse Payton, often referred
to as "the worst actor in the world," put on melodramas of the
teenth

ten-twenty-thirty variety.

Years

drinking companions, something

later

my

father

and he became

no one would have dreamed

of in the days when Corse Payton's name was a byword throughout

Brooklyn.

The

first

play to

ten or eleven at the

make an impression on me

bawdy performance,
ravishing Bonita.

^I

wasn't

time^was WinCt Woman and Song.

featuring the diminutive

As

see

it

now,

it

It

more than
was a jolly*

Lew Hcam and

must have been a

the

glorified

287

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFB

burlesque show.

Nan

bleibt ein

connected with

The

selves.

("

this

event

theatre,

and stood

Wein, Wcib und Gcsang,

The most astonishing thing
we occupied a box all to our-

licbt nicht

is

which

me somehow

reminded
Folly,

Wer

Leben lang/')

sein

at the

that

doubt

if I ever entered

of an old French

fortress

againit

The

^was called

comer of Broadway and Graham Avenue,

Brooklyn, of course.

By

this

to the

we had

time

shifted

Bushwick Section

from

distance

us, in the

("

from

The

of Early Sorrows

neighbourhood

where everything seemed to come

called East

huge

circus tents.

no man's land

this

Not very

far

away were

is

Alias Jimmy Valentine.

The

school.

Cloak Model.

of the open

life

was

was

street

Once

Sells

York,

company
a year

spread their

seem to

But

recall

from

undoubtedly saw

The Sewing Machine Girl and

there such monstrosities as Bertha^

Nelliet the Beautiful

New

a Chinese cemetery, a

and a skating pond. The only play

reservoir

&

Forepaugh

in this dismal vicinity

A Uttle

").

to a dead end, a stock

gave performances in a theatre called The Gotham.

somewhere

Ward

the glorious Fourteenth

Street

still

vastly

going to granmiar

more

exciting to

me

than the claptrap reality of the theatre.

It

was during

this period,

however, in vacation time, that

would

my cousin in Yorkville where I was bom. Here in the smnmer

evenings over a pint of ale my uncle would regale us with memories
visit

of the

theatre

nmning.)
strong

of his day. {The Bowery After Dark was probably still

can still see my imcle, a fat, lazy, jovial man with a

German

accent, sitting at the bare

always in a fireman's undershirt

they were the long

programs out
stock,

table in the kitchen,

playbills printed

on newspaper

even then yellow with age, which were handed out

gallery entrances.

Fascinating as

were the names of the

names of the players were even more

Jefferson, Sir

R^ane,

Henry

Irving,

Tony

Lily Langtry, Modjeska,

the days
Street

round

can see him spreading the

when

was

in

Such names

as

Booth,

Ada Rehan,
in my ears. They were
rage, when Fourteenth

Pastor, Wallack,

still

ring

Bowery was all the

heyday, and when the great

the

its

so.

at the

plays, the

stage figures

were

imported from Europe.

Every Saturday night, so

to

go to

288

the theatre.

my

uncle said, he and

(A pattern

was soon

my

father used

to follow with

my

Henry Miller

as a hoy with his Parents

and

Sister

THE THEATRE
buddy, Bob Haase.)

from the time

to

do with

this fact to

It

came

my

emphasize

my

he

me

asked

astonishment

whom

actor
just

coming

would

if I

like to

He had

he thought

mention

accompany him
his cronies

me

work-

was then about

tickets for a play called

suggested taking

day, while

to the

from the

The Gentleman

along because of an

seeing, an actor who was

wha was none other than Douglas

would enjoy

into prominence,

But what was more

role.)

when one

and

(Thomas Alfred Wise, of

Fairbanks.

had nothing more

father

father at the tailor shop

Wolcott Bar, had bought

Mississippi.

my

Major Carew, one of

theatre that evening.

from

world

My uncle neither, for that matter.

that world.

ing part-time for

sixteen

seemed almost incredible to me, because

into the

thrilling to

course, played the leading

me

than the prospect of seeing

Douglas Fairbanks was the

fact that I

theatre for the first time,

and in the evening

was about

to enter a

New York

Strange

company

my father and the dissolute Major Carew, who, from

arrived in New York, was never sober for an instant.

to be in, too,

the time he
It

was only years

later that I

reahzed

had seen Douglas Fairbanks

in his greatest stage success.

my German teacher from

my second visit to a New York playhousethe

That same year, in company with

High School,

made

Irving Place Theatre.

which

some

stands out in

strange reason,

burlesque.

was

It

my

was

as a

thoroughly romantic one, for

was soon overshadowed by

still

going to High School

(from the old Fourteenth Ward) asked

like to

burlesque
rose

doubt

show

if

Fortunately

my

I shall

initiation into

if I

beard had yet begun to sprout.

never forget.*

undressed in pubhc.

from childhood, thanks

to

From

the

had seen

moment

life

on

pictures

Sweet Caporal

boy

theatre in
pants,

That

first

the curtain

had never seen

of

women

cigarettes, in

in

every

Httle playing card featuring

one of the famous soubrettes of the day.

creatures in

older

would not

was already wearing long

package of which there used to be a

one day

was trembling with excitement. Until then

woman

tights

me

my

when an

go with him to The Empire, a new burlesque

our neighborhood.

though

That event,

to see Alt Heidelberg.

mind

But

to see

one of these

the stage, in the fiiU glare of a spotHght, no, that

had never dreamed of

Suddenly

recalled the Uttle theatre in

* Krausetneyer's Alley, with Sliding Billy Watson.

289


THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

on Grand

the old neighborhood,

The Unique,

Street, called

" The Bum." Suddenly

tve called it,

saw again

or as

long Saturday

that

night queue outside, pushing and milling around to squeeze through

the door and catch a glimpse of that naughty httle soubrette, Mile, de

Leon

de Leon), the

called her Millie

{life

flanked

billboards that

entrance

the

who

girl

Suddenly

to the sailors at each performance.

the

to

At any

from

rate,

showing

theatre,

ravishing female figures of luxurious heft displaying

sinuous curves.

flimg her garters

recalled those lurid

all their

billowy,

momentous day when

that

The Empire I became a devotee of burlesque. Before

long I knew them all Miner's on the Bowery, The Columbia,
The Olympic, Hyde & Beeman's, The Dewey, The Star, The
Gayety, The National Winter Garden all of them.
Whenever
first visited

was bored, despondent, or pretending to search for work,

were such glorious

I

institutions in those days

might have committed

But speaking of
I

have of

Sapho.

on

remember

One of the

two

for

reasons

the fence next to the old house

first,

where

and second,

openly revealing a

man in

the

only in a thin nightgown, up a long

was Olga Nethersole.)

the play

eighteen or nineteen

One of the most

knew nothing then of the

I know that it was

Park.

that

was Adeline

it

it

was

best days

was a

lurid

woman,

clad

it

was posted

it

(The

woman

scandal

which

the dramatiza-

didn't read Sapho until

Tartarin books,

was
must

came upon them.

which

I retain is

my mother took me to the open air casino in

is

Patti I

mere lad of eight or

the century,

twenties before

Though it

Ulmer

time "

of stairs.

beautiful souvenirs of the theatre

memor)' of the day

it

flight

as for the celebrated

my

have been well in

the

because

aa of carrying

had roused. Neither did

of Daudet's famous book.

tion

because

knew my

shockingly close, so to speak

poster,

strange recollections

of passing a billboard announcing the play

is

it

there

there not been,

suicide long ago.

billboards

period

this

Had

headed

Thank God,

either for the burlesque or the vaudeville house.

highly improbable,

I still

nine, just getting ready to

like a trip to

Vienna. In

*'

have the notion

At any

heard sing that day.

rate, for

wimess the turn of

the

good old summer

was, of a day so spankingly bright and gay that even a dog

would remember
fessed that

it

(Poor Balzac,

you had known only

how

pity you,

three or four

you who ron-

happy days

in

all

290

^i

THE THEATRE
your

On this

life !)

golden day even the awnings and parasols were

The

brighter and gayer than ever before.

we

my

sat,

mother,

by brimming
by brooches,

steins

sister

were to

tillating

that

eat

by

chains,

and drink

my own

age, or so

across the entire length

at

They

each wing.

The

adjuncts.

Pilsener,

What good

things

Hvely, so scin-

couldn't get over the fact

each act and walk

after

of the stagejust to post the next number

did

it

bowing and

Very important

smiling.

me, the way they balanced

waiters, too, intrigued

way

made change, and

The whole

they

so polite, so cheerful, so utterly at ease.

all

it

of

belt buckles,

seemed, dressed in swaggering

it

the heavy trays, the Hghtning-Hke

with

glasses

programso

the

come out

costumes, were employed to

which

a thousand and one trinkets so dear

And

table at

reflections cast

by gleaming

that generation.

All headliners, doubtless.

boys

round

little

danced with golden

and mugs, by long slender

men and women of

to the

I,

earrings, laveliers, lorgnettes,

by heavy gold watch

there

and

atmosphere of the place was decidedly Renoir.

As soon

there

as I

was old enough to go to work

started at seventeen

began those wonderful Saturday afternoon and evening

sprees at the beaches. Irene

FrankHn

Beach Music Hall, another open-air

("

Red Head ")

at the

theatre, stands out

Brighton

prominently

my memory. But more vivid still is the remembrance of an

unknown zany who was then making " Harrigan famous. It

in

'*

was again
and

a hot day,

with a beautiful breeze coming from the ocean,

had on a new straw hat with a large polka dot band.

But what

enjoy the song and dance cost only ten cents.

forget

is

the enclosure

a circular tier

itself,

To
can*t

of benches exposed to

monkey to do his stunts in.

Here, on a rude, springy platform, this unknown minstrel gave one
performance after another from noon to midnight. I went back
to hear him several times that day. I went back expressly to hear
him sing
the sky and hardly big

enough

for a

H
G

Divil a

And

so on.

...

A
A

...

dooble

spells

Harrigan

man can say a word agin me

Ending with
291


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
It's

name

shame

that a

Never has been connected with

Harrigan

Why

should

ditty

this

that's

me

have

infatuated

was the poor

me

don't

know.

Undoubtedly

it

man, the

and flimflam, the deHcious brogue he had, plus the

leer

torture he

was

A strange

songbird, the vitaHty of the

fried

suflering.

and roseate period, the turn of the century that refused

to come to an end.
The Edison phonograph, Terry McGovem,
WiUiam Jennings Bryan, Alexander Dowie, Carrie Nation, Sandow
the Strong Man, Bostock's Animal Show, Mack Sennett comedies,
Caruso, Little Lord Fauntleroy, Houdini, Kid McCoy, the Hallroom

Boys, Battling Nelson, Arthur Brisbane, the Katzenjammer Kids,

Windsor McKay,
Case,

the

Yellow Kid, The

Ben Hur, Mouquin's, Considine's,

Boy, the Gilsey House, the

Murray

Hill Hotel,

Nick

Trilby^

Dewey

Carter,

Old Apple

Tom

Bobby Walthour,

ber the Maine,"

Henry

Way

Miller in The Only

When and where I first saw

I

know

ever saw.

to

only

this,

Not

that

make me laugh as
hit you below

succumb
years,

to

and

it.

It

yean to come.

No

but what matter

acts

was

is

a feat.

British.

What

movie

the belt.

it

will

doubt

To

my

**

RememPinkham,

no longer remember.

mind

as the funniest

called Turnabout did

s

Aunt

is

ofl*

and on

play

see anything

one of those plays

There's nothing

you can do but

now

for over fifty

for another

fift)'

one of the worst plays ever written,

keep an audience in

amazes

Mary

go on being played

it is

me is that the

In Paris, years

sidesplitting farces.

Charley

hard.

Boulevard du Temple

Sloan,

Linder, In the Shade of

Charleys Aunt

has been playing

presimie

Ted

Sharkey,

Max

Painless Parker, Lydia

remains in

it

until the

which

David Hamm, Peck's Bad

Boer War, the Boxer RebeUion,

Trie, the

Molineaux

The Haymarket,

Vadis,

Theatre, Stanford White, the

Baker Eddy, die Gold Dust Twins,

the

Police Gazette, the

Theda Bara, Annette Kellerman, Quo

later, I

bam

specialized in broad,

of a place

had more belly

laughs than in any theatre except the fiimous Palace Theatre

Broadway
292

" the home of vaudeville."

fiill

Brandon Thomas,

discovered a theatre on the

Le D^'aarefwhich

In this old

stitches for three

author,

on


THE THEATRB
From
or so

the time

began going to High School

until I

was twenty

my

chum, Bob

went regularly every Saturday night with

Broadway

Haase, to the

We

usually stood

saw

at least

up

where the

Theatre, Brooklyn,

Manhattan stage would be shown

in the back of the orchestra.

two hundred

among them

plays,

hits

from the

they had had their run.

after

such

In this

way

The Witching

as

HouTy The Lion and the Mouse, The Easiest Way^ The Music Masteft

Madame X,

The Yellow

Camille,

The Wizard of Oz,

Ticket,

Tite

Servant in the House, Disraeli, Bought and Paid For, The Passing of

The

the Third Floor Back,

Degree,

My

Tiger Rose.

Carter, Lilly

As soon
out in

all

the

stars,

Third

Mill, Sumurun,

were Mrs. LesUe

Leonore Ulric, Frances

Fiske,

went

to the

New York

going to the

as I started

directions.

frequented

such

as the httle theatres,

all

Starr,

Anna

theatres

branched

the foreign theatres as well

Portmanteau, the Cherry Lane,

as the

And of course

Neighborhood Playhouse.

the

Hippodrome, the Academy of Music, the Manhattan

Opera House and the Lafayette

in Haarlem.

saw Copeau's group

Moscow

Art Players

Curiously enough, a performance which stands out in

my memory

number of

times, at the Garrick,

and the Abbey Theatre

is

among

favorites then,

Maddem

The Provincetown,

Man from Home, The

Quite a motley company!

Held.

The

Virginian,

Damaged Goods, The Merry Widow, The Red

that given

Henry

by an

Players.

unprofessional group,

Street Settlement.

by

(an Elizabethan play)

telegraph company.

and the

was

youngsters, at the

invited to attend the performance

a messenger then

He had

all

working

for

me

where he had served sentence for robbing a small post

the South of a

was

To

few stamps.

played the leading role

in

much

the

The Wanderer which

again

to the

the enchantment of that

once in a

lifetime.

him

in doublet

^he

stands out in

does the magical scene in Four-

have mentioned so often.

Henry

first

Not

as

office in

and hose

grace and distinction

The whole evening

same way

nier*s

went back

see

declaiming with

most pleasurable shock.

my mind

at the

only lately been released from prison,

Street Settlement

Time and

hoping to rcHvc

evening, but such things happen only

so far away,

Neighborhood Playhouse which

another memorable occasion

I
^I

on Grand

Street,

visited frequently

saw Joyce's

was the

and where

Exiles

performed.

293

"

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

Whether

was the period or because

it

many of

sionable,
gettable.

will

Mom

the Western World,

are unfor-

Androcles and the Lion, Cyrano

Midnight, Yellow Jacket, The Playboy of

till

Him,

was young and impres-

saw during the Twenties

mention just a few

From

de BergeraCy

the plays

Gods of the

Lysistrata, Francesca de Rimini,

Mountain, The Boss, Magda, John Ferguson, Fata Morgana, The Better

Man

*Ole,

of the Masses, Bushido, Juno and the Paycock.

The Deepthinkers and

In the early days of

I

the Xerxes Society*

had the good fortune to be invited by a pal of mine to the

where we occupied

theatres,

was an

**

He had

inveterate theatre-goer.

enjoyed indulging

twelve
to a

was through him

and

Queen

"

also

healthy, jolly,

"good show."

that

saw

that Uttle queen,

for us.

the tailor shop,

mana

training to

"

Ah

" Such a

athletic instructor (sic

!)

tance of another wonderful prince, the eccentric

full

This lovable old

He had

the use of a car and a chauffeur.

made

was

it

that

symphonic

then

time for the

I

was

the acquain-

Mr. Pach of Pach

man

never handled

seemed, not

least

connections and

we

whenever

recital

called

or a

affiliations

of them being with the directors

of the MetropoHtan Opera, Carnegie Hall and such

Pach, as

"

Everything he desired he got through barter, including

everywhere,

result

Nothing
!

sudden switch from the Savage School where

become an

Little

Reisenweber's, Bustanoby's

took to working

It

the best seats in the

never to be forgotten days

when

Brothers, photographers.

money.

theatre.

Ferguson

Not only
at

to

idol, for the first

Trotting firom place to place in horse cabs.

was too good

old

lusty youngsters

bored he would leave

our great

Elsie

house but afterwards a cold snack

At

rowdy,

If he got

Elsie Janis,

Bonnie days they were.

or Rector's.

best

money and he

of the performance and go to another

in the middle

time,

plenty of

**

friend's boss

every whim. Sometimes he invited the whole

his

gang of us

accompany him

My

choice seats."

places.

The

wished to attend a concert, an opera, a

ballet,

him, and a

had only to telephone old man

seat

was waiting

my father made him a suit of clothes

for

Now

me.

and

or an overcoat. In return

we received photographs, all sorts of photographs, oodles of them.

And so, in this pecuHar way rather miraculous to me I heard

* See Plexus, Book Two of The Rosy Crucifixion, for a full picture jof these
which played such an important part in my early life.

clubs

294


THE THEATRE
in the Space

of music.

of a few years

the other pedagogic rigmarole

As

of note in the realm

virtually everything

was an invaluable education, worth

It

beHeve

said a while ago, I

Classics,

Dr. Foozlefoot Eliot.

all

have read more plays than novels

or any other form of literature.

The Harvard

more than

far

was put through.

began

this

that five-foot shelf

reading of plays via

recommended by old

Greek drama, then Elizabethan

First ancient

drama, then Restoration and other periods.

The

real impetus,

me by
Goldman through her lectures on the European drama,
San Diego, back in 1913. Through her I launched heavily into

however,

have remarked a number of times, was given

as I

Emma
in

Russian drama, which, with ancient Greek drama,

I feel

home

the

The Russian drama and

in.

same

and sense of

ease

Chinese philosophy.

In

the Russian novel

familiarity as

would

imitate if

finds reality, poetry

The

could, are the Irish.

at

did Chinese poetry and

them one always

wisdom. They are earth-bound. But the dramatists

I

most

took to with

can read over and over again, without fear of

and

envy, the ones

playwrights

Irish

satiation.

There

I
is

magic in them, together with a complete defiance of logic and a

humor

altogether unique.

There

also darkness

is

say nothing of a natural gift for language

seem to

Every writer employing the English language

possess.

indebted to the
true language

Irish.

Through them we

of the bards,

of the world such

all

as

now

lost

get

is

gHmmerings of the

except for a remote

Wales. Once having savored the

comer

Irish writers,

other European dramatists seem pale and feeble in their expression.

The one man who

(The French more than any, perhaps.)

comes through, in
is

and violence, to

which no other people

still

translation,

is

Compared

dynamite.

Ibsen.

to Ibsen,

play like The Wild

Shaw

is

just

still

Duck

" a talking

fool."

Aside from a few performances

to

America from France

Awake and Sing

able production

la

going days.
Finished, the

visit

have not been to the theatre since that memor-

of Hamsun's Hunger (with Jean-Louis Barrault)

given in Paris in 1938 or

manner, a

attended during a short

Waiting for Lefty, The Time of Your Life,

Georg

Kaiser,

Today
whole

'39.

It

was rendered in

expressionistic

and remains a worthy end to

have not the

business. I

my theatre-

least desire to enter a theatre.

would

rather see a second-rate

movie
295

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

than a play, though

It

must confess

may seem

strange that, despite

have never written a play.

ago, but got

no

Besides,

it.

which

movies too have

lost

tried

my great interest in the theatre,

my hand at it once, many years

it is

me

to Hue the

It

was obviously more

drama than

to give expression

no talent in this direction,

probably true that I have

I regret.

But even
all

farther than the second act.

important then for

to

that the

hold over me.

their

if I

no longer go

to the theatre, even if I have

abandoned

thought of writing for the theatre, the theatre remains for

a realm of pure magic. In potency, the Elizabethan drama

ing Shakespeare

whom

cannot abide

Often in

For me.

Bible.

my

mind

ranks second only to

have compared

this

these

fails

two

to impress

me

is

What

the utter contrast, in language, between

The Greek

periods of drama.

simple, straightforward

is

language, imderstandable to anyone of inteUigence

language

is

drama we again have

is

the Elizabethan

tumultuous and unbridled, meant for poets, though the

made up of the mob.

audience (of that day) was largely

however,

the

period

with the age which produced the great Greek dramatists.

never

me

exclud-

the simplicity of the Greeks

In Russian

the machinery,

of another order.

What all good drama has in common, I find, is its readability.

And this is the drama's supreme defect. The drama to come will
lack this virtue.

The drama

As "Hterature"

has yet to

come

into

it

its

will be almost meaningless.

about until the structure of our society

altered.

And

own.
is

tract called

on

this subject,

Le Theatre

de la

actor, playwright,

had
in a

Cruauti*

What Artaud

was a new kind of participation by the audience. But

never have until the whole conception of" theatre "

Books tend
* " Mais, et
dang^reux de

come

fimdamentally

some of which he exposed

Antonin Artaud, the French poet,

illuminating ideas

cannot

this

radically,

to separate, the theatre to unite us.

is

this

proposed

we

shall

transformed.

The

audience,

nouvcaut^, il y a un c6t^ virulent et je dirai mSme

po6sie et de I'imagination a retrouver. La po6sie est une
force dissociative et anarchique, qui par I'analogie, les associations, les images,
ne vit que d'un boulcversement des rapports communs. Et la nouveaut^
sera de bouleverscr ces rapports non seulcmcnt dans le domaine ext6rieur,
dans le domaine de la nature, mais dans le domaine intdrieur, c'est i dire,
c'est ici la

la

dans cclui de la psychologie.

in

*'

296

Comoedia,'

September

Comment, c'est mon secret." (Antonin Artaud,

21, 1932.)

THE THEATRE
hands of a capable playwright, never knows greater

like jelly in the

sohdarity than during the brief hour or

Only during

a performance.

Used

parable to this togetherness.

the greatest
state

To me

takes to give

rightly, the theatre

is

that life

at a

is

low

com-

one of

has fallen into a

it

When the

but another sign of the degenerate times.

means

it

ebb.

common

the theatre has always been like a bath in the

To

stream.

is

it

there anything

is

weapons in the hands of man. That

of decay

theatre lags

two which

a revolution

company of

experience emotion in the

crowd

is

Not only

are the thoughts, deeds

and personages materialized before one's

eyes, but the effluvium

indeed tonic and therapeutic.

in

which

swims

In identifying them-

also envelops the audience.

with the players, the spectators re-enact the drama in their

selves

own

all

minds.

An

invisible super-director

each spectator there

with the one which he

is

is

Moreover, in
parallel

All these reverberative dramas

witnessing.

coalesce, heighten the visible, audible one,

with a psychic tension which

work.

at

drama going on

another, unique

is

and charge the very walls

incalculable and, at times, almost

is

unbearable.

Even

to

become acquainted with

The

sary to frequent the theatre.

one's

own

language

of the boards

talk

order from the talk of books or the talk of the

most indehble writing belongs to the

enact every day of our Hves.

We

forget

most indeUble

what one

silent

is

drama we

What issues from our Ups is infinitesimal

compared to the steady stream of

heads.

how much

different

Just as the

street.

parable, so the

neces-

it is

of a

In the theatre one hears

speech belongs to the theatre.

always saying to oneself

is

which goes on

recitative

The man of

Similarly with deeds.

action,

in

our

even the hero,

Hves out in deed but a fraction of the drama which consumes him.
In the theatre not only are
exalted, but the ear

are

made

on

the stage

is

senses

we

experience

In that narrow strip

stimulated, enhanced,

it

new

of human

ways.

actions.

We

not only sense what

individually, each in his

beyond the

We

Every-

focused, as if through a distorting

meet the angle of expectation.

called destiny,

meeting

the

all

tuned, the eye trained, in

alert to the unfailing significance

thing which occurs

lens, to

is

footlights

we

all

find

is

own way.
a common

place.

When I

think of the numerous performances

have attended, and

297


THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE
many

in SO

homeward, often on
and mud, when

slush

that

think of the strange neighbor-

through

foot, often
I

my

were located and of

theatres

my

impinged on

when

tongues,

diflfercnt

hoods in which these

journeys

through

bitter gales or

think of the truly extraordinary personaUties

being, of the multitudinous ideas

when

experienced vicariously,

which

think of the problems of other

epochs, other peoples, and of the magical and mysterious denominator

which permitted
of the

my

upon
of this

me

which

effects

associates

tide

to grasp

them and

certain plays

when

them,

suffer

unknown

or even people

me, when

to

ecstasies,

how

so

human was

utterly, inexorably

my

so remarkably universal,

all this,

appreciation of

with plays, playwrights and play actors

To

extravagance.

which seems so

is

bizarre,

now

it is,

that

usually a Httle bit

dancing, joking,

so

^how

anxieties, frustrations

am thinking,

remarkably

weddings,

to

fiinerals,

of

of

and

close

make up

life

beggars,

idiots,

and so on which complicate modern drama.

course,

of the ordinary Jewish

need not

know

word of the language

laughs and weeps easily.

nonce.

thoroughly a
"

Am

not

the Irish, the French, the Russian, the Italian

One becomes

thing occun.
in doing so

universal

all

these

stew.)

to enjoy the spectacle.

One becomes

Leaving the theatre, one asks

play, intended for

good

the masses and therefore "concocted," like a

With

connected

to the point

In the Yiddish play there

it.

of everything which goes

horseplay,

so salutary,

is

theatre alone, the Yiddish,

aHen

look back on

that

itself

think

to say nothing of the usual misunderstandings, problems,

feasts,

(I

form of

take one

human,

all

augmented

is

when

me

think

of blood, of sap, of dark, mottled thought pumping

out in words, gestures, scenes, climaxes and

intimate

think

had upon me, and through

Jew

also a

drama

Through

individual identity.

We

the

drama we

realize that

for the

Jew

the

"
?

same

aUen creatures in turn, and

becomes more himself, more human, more

self.

One
One

find our

we

like the

conmion and our

are star-bound as well as

earth-bound.

Sometimes, too,

unknown,

we

find ourselves citizens of a

only the gods inhabit.

with

its

That the

very Hraitcd means,

theatre-goer, the person

298

world

world more than human, a world such

who

is

as

utterly

perhaps

theatre can produce this effect,

worthy of

note.

The

inveterate

enjoys being taken out of himself,

THE THEATRE
who imagines

possibly that he has found a

well as his own,

lives as

the play

much

In the theatre so

much

exteriorly,

tible. It is

from

gets

from

only what he puts into

it

has to be taken for granted,

own

small Hfe, if examined

rapport between

good dramatist

of the humblest individual there

life

other people's

what he

suffice to explain the close

audience and players which every

the exterior

is

One's

has to be divined.

would never

way to live

inclined to forget that

which holds him so absorbed

of himself
so very

is

In

establishes.

drama inexhaus-

is

playwright draws

this inexhaustible reservoir that the

his material.

This drama which goes on ceaselessly in every one's

breast trickles

through in mysterious ways, hardly ever formulating

spoken words or in deeds.

itself in

a vaporous ocean,

sending forth signals,

back to

is

am

is

line,

embedded

The

a deed, a thought.
life

drama

lies

in the

in every cell of the body, every

more than was

contain, or

me

concerned.

If

a failing,

it is

it is

This

intended.

where the

particularly

one that

theatre or
I

am

not

have Uved in the midst of drama from the time

was old enough to understand what was happening round and

about me.

went

rising

took to the theatre

me it was

For

water.

a duck takes to

at the

influenced

it

me

much of it was
moment it. was life,
everyday

life.

**

real.

Ufe at

its

the

my

eyes.
life

Looking backward,

Hterature,"

It

With

was prepared

about me, the

as the life

was more

that

my

what would be unfolded before

was immersed,^

must admit

But

as

was the breath of Hfe.

it

to the theatre to be restored and rejuvenated.

play was not only as real to

which

an early age,

at

never just recreation,

of the curtain and the lowering of the Ughts

to accept imphcitly

were, a

as it

a criticism levelled against

the cinema

The

one of those individuals frequently accused of reading into

more than they

ashamed of
I

constantly

of the myriad substances which envelop our bodies.

things
is

life,

is

detectors flashing

sensitive

not in the events of daily

very substance of
cell

no more than

momentarily

us,

of drama

bark of a play

frail

the inhabitants of other planets.

as if to

great playwrights are

there a

In this vast ocean humanity

appears and disappears.

stuff

overtones form a vast ocean,

Its

on which here and

much

fullest.

in
I

sheer claptrap.
It

colored and

pervaded that Hfe sensibly and

irrevocably.

This faculty of overlooking

for

it

was an overlooking and not

299

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

what the

a failure to see properly

acting, this faculty

which

At home,

refusal to accept things at face value.

wherever

in the street,
If it

went,

as this

went because from

may

life,

then

a tender age

On

had no need for the

I
I

shared, preposterous
I

sensed

of a universal drama which had deep,

deep roots, vast and unending significance.

did not ask to be lulled

asked to be shocked and awakened.

of

in school, in church,

sound, the secret intentions of the playwright.

the everlasting presence

or seduced

play*

bom

was impregnated with drama.

was to obtain a repUca of daily

theatre.

mind terms mere

critical

deUberately nurtured, was

the stage, personality

is

The

everything.

great

stars,

whether

comedians, tragedians, buffoons, impersonators, mountebanks or

sheer zanies, are engraved as deeply in

Perhaps more

characters in Uterature.

We

flesh.

how

obHged to imagine

are

Charlus spoke,

how

my memory

as are the great

knew them

so, since I

in the

Stavrogin or the Baron de

they walked, gestured, and so on.

Not

so

with the great dramatic personages.

There are Hterally hundreds of individuals

length

who

once strode the boards and

eyes, are declaiming their lines,

There were

theatrical couples

own

working

who

could speak of

still,

if

to us than the

Or James and Bonnie Thornton. Sometimes whole

such

themselves to us,

Eddie Foy's

as

Actresses particularly took possession

personahties

families endeared

of our fancy

as

no other type

actresses either,

radiant, magnetic, hauntingly so.

of them immediately

cluster

members

for example.

and George M. Cohan's.

They were not always great

were

at

my

their mysterious magic.

Noray Bayes and Jack Norworth,

family.

possibly could.

but close

exerted such a strong sentimental

were nearer and dearer

influence that they

of our

who

Elsie Janis,

Elsie

but their

think of a

Ferguson, EflSe

Shannon, Adele Ritchie, Grace George, Alice Brady, Pauline Lord,

Anna

Held,

Fritzi

Scheff,

Trixie

Friganza,

Gertrude Hoflfman,

Miimie Dupree, Belle Baker, Alia Nazimova, Emily Stevens, Sarah

and

Allgood

am

sure

flesh

them

that dark, blazing figure

will recall,

Mimi AgugUa. The

and blood, and not phantom

to us

moments

their hearts

300

of course

no one

even more.
sometimes

were

we

creations

Sometimes

of the

they were

screen, endeared

we saw them

watched them

really breaking.

whose name

fact that

breathlessly,

in their

weak

knowing

that

THE THEATRE
The same

pleasure one has in discovering his

authors, holds for the figures

been

of the stage

We

was imperative to

told, as youngsters, that it

his own
may have

own books,

as well.

sec

("before

they die ") such as John Drew, William Faversham, Jack Barrymore,

Richard Mansfield, David Warfield, Sothem and Marlowe, Sarah

Maude Adamsbut our

Bernhardt,

for ourselves such personaHties as

great

joy came in discovering

Holbrook Blinn, O.

P. Heggie,

Breese, Tully Marshall, Mrs. Patrick Campbell, BJchard

Edward

Bennett, George Arliss, Cyril

Maude,

Elissa Landi,

Olga Chekova,

many othen, now almost legendary.

The names, however, which are inscribed in my book of memory

Jeanne Eagcls and others, many,

of gold

in letters

and burlesque.

are those

me

Let

Eddie Foy, Bert Savoy,

Howard, Frank Fay.

spellbinders

an

all-star
I

for old times' sakejust a few

Raymond

program.

would

Hitchcock, Bert Lev>% WiUic

Who could be immune to the powers of these

Better than any book, for me,

one of these appeared

than

of the comedians, largely from vaudeville

mention

was

mating

in

which

Often, at the Palace, there was

as a headliner.

would no more have missed such an event

Rain

the weekly gathering of the Xerxes Society.

or shine, job or no job, money or no money, I was always there. To

be with these " men of mirth " was the best medicine in the world,
the best safeguard against melancholy, despair or frustration.

never, never get over the reckless

way

Sometimes one of them would intrude upon the other

creating with each irruption hysteria

book

funniest

in

in the

throughout.

was

moment

stitches.

one

was

felt

or two.

scarcely necessary to

the fingers

There

is

sufficient to

One

chuckling,

Uke begging them to stop

Once they had

do or say anything.

make one

mere waggle of

explode.

again, to laugh even harder the second or the third time.

is

the

title,

by the way

their

the audience started

The man I liked best of all was Frank Fay. I adored him.
him of a mating and go back in the evening to see him
What

laughed so hard and so con-

sec

The

not a single book

The men I speak of could not only keep one

tinuously, in fact, that

it

fellow's act,

and pandemonium.

whole of Hterature which can keep one laughing

they could keep one in

antics for just a

can

the world* cannot rival, for me, a single per-

formance of any of these individuals.

know of

they gave of themselves.

would

give anything to

could

all

over

Frank

know

301

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

man who could put on an act without the

man who could hold the stage alone for ten
or fifteen hours, if he chose. And who could vary the performance
from day to day. To me he seemed possessed of inexhaustible wit,
intention, inteUigence.
Like many another great comedian, he
knew when and how to cross the borderline into the realm of the
forbidden. He got away with murder, Frank Fay. He was irresis-

me

Fay impressed

as a

slightest preparation, a

even to the censors,

tible,

He was indeed

his sleeve.

In passing

one play,

in

The Show Off.

and again

show

tricks

one-man show."

mean Louis John

my memory.

went back

infectious

blatant,

**

which owed so much

landmark in

an incursion into the realm of

I must make mention of an actor whom I saw only

whom I never heard of again after his enormous success

in

this play,

as

But Frank Fay had a thousand

the perverse and forbidden.

up

Nothing, of course, can so

imagine.

rouse the risibiUtics of an audience

Bartels.

Like Charleys Aunt,

to Bartels* acting of

can think of nothing quite

to see

it,

like

remains a

Again

it.

especially to hear that raucous,

it,

haw-haw-haw

of

who was

Bartels,

" the

off."

As

back

far

as I

can remember,

speaking inside me.

mean by

seem

to be

aware of voices

was forever conducting

this that I

conversation with these other voices. There was nothing "mystical"

about

was

It

this.

form of

while

simultaneously

Dialogue

books

dialogue

Before

constant dialogue.

was writing them

I

indulged

my

in

One more

speak of

realized early in Ufe that

thought about

dialogueit was merely

that

his

it

Nor

is it,

smothered sort of

he was destined to write.

mean

myself that
I

this ceaseless, interior

was reading too much,

never thought of it

except in the degree which

it

as

unnatural

may

some one,

attain.

heard

speech transmuted in varying ways, or, while giving close heed

I

would

words with

more eloquent
302

tell

this

often happened that, while listening to

to his words,
his

at all

it

should stop chewing the cud.

or exceptional.

Thus

to

could go on

capable of self-analysis than myself

Not

If

It

began the writing of

in

head

would have
I.

in.

open conversation with another.

held

which ran concurrently

intercourse

with other forms of intercourse

interpolate

others of
;

my

my own words, would embroider

own, more piquant, more dramatic,

sometimes, indeed, after

had heard a person

THE THEATRE
through,

would

him

was

It

who became

mountebank or

whom

had not the shghtest

me much

attached to

and

a sleight-of-hand

artist.

It

to deflate their egos

was the mirror in which

unknowingly.

this,

or

in the first person

>

it,

dialogue. Schooling myself,

that

not a sort of perambulating theatre

if

What was

never occurred to

It

game and was happy

enjoyed the

it all

they entered into

But what was

interest

they would to a clever

as

they saw themselves lucidly and flatteringly.

me

own words

his

performances which often endeared

these

people to me, often people

in but

him swallow

apmess, their acuteness, or their profundity and

at their

complexity.

in three or four ways,

they were his own, and in doing so

as if

derive huge enjoyment in seeing

marvel

words

repeat the gist of his

giving them back to

doing

Creating character, drama,

no doubt, and

And

utterly

without intention

Not

to mirror

the world, not to render back a world, but to discover

my own

or prevision, for the task to come.

private world.

The moment

this is precisely

what

more

say " private " world

have always lacked, what

is

of my

better part

stage director

and

life I

have spent in the

script itself

never-ending drama,

It

walk alone

is

my own

in Paris,

that

dreaming that

Little

I
I

read Robinson

have struggled

To unburden

of Revelation.
though

may

it

have been author,

others'

actor,
this

combined, that just to

sitting in the

Jeflfers*

Women

Cafe Rotonde

at Point Sur,

would one day be hving near Point Sur

dream,

Street Library in

theatre,

realize that

comparable to turning on Mozart or Beethoven.*

Big Sur, which

did

have been so saturated with

and

was about eighteen yean ago,

called

like writing another chapter

not have been a recognized playhouse.

take a

to obtain, or establish, than anything else in Hfe.

myself, therefore,

The

this task

when

had never heard of

Dreams and

listening to the hbrarian

never

at a place
life

of the Montague

Brooklyn tell of the marvels of the Cirque Medrano,

In the preface to the first volume of his celebrated roman-fleuue, Jules

writes : "I wish that it will be understood that some episodes lead
nowhere. There are destinies which fmish none knows where. There are
beings, enterprises, hopes, which one no longer hears about. Meteors which
whole pathos
disintegrate, or aperiodic comets of the human firmament.
of dispersion, of fading away, of which life is full, but which books nearly
always ignore, preoccupied as they are, in the name of old rules, with
beginning and finishing the game with the same cards." {Hommes de bonne
"

Romain

uolonte.)

303

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

that the first article

my

should write on arriving in Paris, the dty of

dreams, would be on the Cirque Medrano, and that

would

it

be accepted by ElHot Paul (of Transition) and published in the Paris

Herald.

Caf6 du D6me,

the

at

Crommelynck,
Le Cocu
I

the occasion of our brief meeting in

on

I realize,

Lyc^ Camotthat the man I was talking to would

the man to start me off on this book. Nor did I think,

at the

one day be

when

did

Little

Dijon

Magtiijique, that

would read

of

the author

his play.

Paris I

would be

it

Little

did

friend, that

when

play,

or more before

attending the per-

Paris, that the

man

responsible

my

of the play would soon become

for the superb translation

and

and magnificent

fifteen years

I realize,

formance of the Duchtss of Malfi in

translator

was introduced to Femand

that celebrated

me

he and no other would lead

to the

home of Jean Giono, his Hfelong friend. Little did I imagine either,
when seeing Yellow Jacket (written by the Hollywood actor, Charles
Cobum),

that I

would encounter

in Pebble Beach, California, the

celebrated Alexander F. Victor (of the Victor Talking

Co.),

of

who,

would end

his rich life,

How

Yellow Jacket.

shadow

Katsimbalis
a troupe

Athens

foresee that

it

would be

in a fiu:-off

would

my

see

and with such an astounding companion

play,

Or, enamored

from town

as I

to town),

would one day

was of burlesque

how was

(in Athens),

encounter a
I

How could

to surmise that in far-off

same type of performance, the

sec the

possibly foresee that that

had seen only once before in

had been merely introduced

one

who came

to,

but

performance of Werfel's Goat Song

my

now,

copy of The Moon

by Dennis Johnston
by

^I

the Theatre Guild in

my

friend

translation

304

just a

in the

life,

remembered

notice for the

New

And though

And

is

this

should
a

man

as

the

after a

not a strange

few minutes ago,

Yellow

in glancing

Rivera grand, grand play

first

time that

it

was played

York, probably a year or two before

Roger Klein asked me

of it.

my

out of the stage door of the Theatre Guild

coincidence, that only

at

whom

leer

same evening

about two in the morning, to be exact,

man

as

(often following

same type of comedian, hear the same jokes, catch the same
and banter

on

the conversation with a dithyramb

could

place called Nauplia, in the Peloponnesos, that I

first

Machine

of the thousand and one deHghtful experiences

talking

there

t help

may

him widi

not be the

least

the French

connection

THE THE ATftB

between the two,
that the first time
Paris during a

they hissing

me

this also strikes

I

as curious

heard a French audience

hiss

and coincidental,

was

in a

showing of my beloved Peter Ibbetson.

" I asked. " Because it is too unreal/*

**

cinema in

Why

my

are

friend

replied.

Ah

yes, strange

Walking down

memories.

my way to

on

Heraklion,

Knossos, what do

of

the dusty streets

see but a

huge poster

at the Minoan cinema.

The Minotaur and the
Arthur Evans. Tweedledum and

announcing die coming of CharHe ChapHn

Could anything be more incongruous

Gold Rush

Chaplin and Sir

Tweedledee.

In Athens,

advertising the

bcheve

At

some weeks

coming of

several

noticed the billboards

later, I

American

Another incongruity.

or not, was Desire Under the Elms.

it

One of them,

plays.

amphi-

I>elphi, a natural setting for Prometheus Bound, I sit in the

theatre listening to

my

friend Katsimbalis recite the last oracle

In a split second

delivered there.

am

back in " The Street of Early

Sorrows," upstairs in the parlor, to be

precise, reading

one

after

another of the Greek plays given in Dr. Foozlefoot's Five-Foot

Shelf.

It is

my

first

one follows much

acquaintance with that grim world.

later,

But
the

that lugubrious parlor

and the

last

classics

but

least

at the foot

of the

of Clytemnestra and of

inspect the graves

when

to the voices

Mme. Sdiumann-Heinkeven
Fool diere was ..."
As from some other
Dejazct),

to

of the performance,

my face.

my

now

on

all

on one

From
bill,

rich,

la Gaiete,

where

to

street in

which

it

du
end

down

listened

only

stood, almost

And die Grand

melodramas to the most riotous

farces,

with well-timed stampedes to the bar, a dream of

a bar, hidden avray in the lobby.

worldly memories, the best

memories,

imitators, the theatre itself being

hair-raising

"A

the Boulevard

unique, even for Paris, was an endless passing show.

!

Sirota,

belly aching, the tears streaming

an aspect of a richer spectacle, for the

Guignol

reciting

Hilliard,

would laugh from beginning

Memories of Le Bobinot, rue de

Damia or her numerous

to

Agamemnon

of Caruso, Cantor

Robert

existence there intrude

where

real

not only tried to read the

glorious memories, of that Uttle theatre

Temple (Le

The

Mycenae

There, always alone, sad, forlorn,

of human kind,

I also listened

citadel at

is

But of

all

these strange, other-

of the Cirque Mcdrano.

A world of

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

transmogrification.
say.

the

LIFE

world

old as civilization

as

one might

itself,

show and

For, certainly before the theatre, before the puppet

shadow

must have been the cirque intime with

play, there

saltimbanques, jongleurs, acrobats, sword

swallowers,

its

equestrians

and clowns.

But

where

to get back to that year 191 3, in San Diego,

Emma Goldman

ago

possibly be that long

whorehouse

on

lecture

ask myself.

company with

in

European drama

the

We were working together on

Montana.

Vista and every Saturday evening

How

purpose.

whole hfe

announcing the

Through

Emma

of

arrival

Hauptmann,

Ibsen,

Bill Parr firom

town

for that

one

deflected, derouted,

my

to

Goldman and Ben Reitman

to read such playwrights as

d*Aimunzio,

Brieux,

Schnitzler,

Pinero,

was

heard

chance encounter with a billboard

the

Emma, I came

her,

worthy,

by

my

was on

Can it
way to a
.

a fruit ranch near Chula

we went

strange to think that

altered,

cowboy named

Gorky,

Werfel,

Gals-

Strindberg,

von

Wedekind,

Hof!mansthaI,

Sudermann, Yeats, Lady Gregory, Chekov, Andreyev, Hermann

Bahr, Walter Hasenclever, Ernst Toller, Tolstoy and a host of
others.

was her

(It

consort,

book of Neitzsche*s
The Ego and His

was

that

Ben Reitman, who

Own by Max

me

The Anti-Christ

Stimer.)

Then and

the

as

my

there

fir^t

well as

world

altered.

When,

a Uttle later,

began going to the Washington Square

Players and the Theatre Guild,

European dramatists

became acquainted with more

the Capek brothers, Georg Kaiser, Pirandello,

Lord Dunsany, Benavente,

as

sold

was to read

St.

John Ervine,

as well as

such Americans

Eugene O'Neill, Sidney Howard and Elmer Rice.

Out of this
originally

period there emerges the

name of an

actor

from the Yiddish theatreJacob Ben-Ami.

mova, he had something

gestures haunted

indescribable.

For years

who came
Like Nazi-

his voice

and

He was like a figure out of the Old Testament.

me.

him

But which

figure

one of

performances in some Htde theatre that a group of us

his

could never place

exactly.

It

was

after

repaired one night to a Hungarian restaurant where, after the other

patrons had
pianist

Scriabin

306

left,

we

whose whole

closed the doors and listened

repertoire

are

and Ben-Ami

was

Scriabin.

till

dawn

to a

These two names

indissolubly connected in

my

mind.


THE THEATRE
the

Just as

of Hamsun's novel, Mystcrium

title

German),

(in

is

named Nahoum
Yood.
Whenever, wherever I met Nahoum Yood, he would
begin talking about this mad book of Hamsun's.
Similarly, in
associated with another

whenever

Paris,

we would

Jew,

Yiddish writer

spent an evening with Hans Reichel, the painter,

inevitably touch

on Ernst

whom he had befriended

Toller

and on whose account he had been thrown into prison by the

Germans.

Whenever
names

the

think or hear of The Cmcit whenever

and Goethe, whenever

Schiller

sance (always connected with Walter Pater's

I

think of subway or elevated

woe-begonc

passages

to

from

hovels, whilst

works of

the

seem remarkable

to

me

my

Tlte

It is

as

much

the

as the

women

impression

windows of

memory

Nor

does

day of

Tintagiles,

et

The Blue

who seem

fact that in

everyday

to reveal themselves completely.

with

social

has ever

drama they

to have left the greatest

women

measure of

Perhaps

have so

Perhaps, too, the

Modem

women.

met such types

are also

Monna

of which,

their great beauty, their

drama

to a

are

in real Hfe.

Httle

drama

woman

drama the women

is

woman

as to terrify

this

chance

tends to
saturated

more human

superhuman

no

In the Elizabethan

of startling proportions, not godlike,

but of such magnification

fiill

life

problems, thereby reducing

In ancient Greek

modem

on

music, have never ceased to haunt me.

of the theatre

enhance the roles played by

level.

Hfe,

Bird,

Melisande, the settings

upon me, whether because of

due to the

my

an open glade, a golden

I strike

singular pcrsonaUties or their extraordinary voices.*

is

long

ever cease

it

runs to those far-off performances of

Death of

VantWy or else of the opera, PelUas

almost

the subject),

into dirty

that almost every

mind immediately

Maeterlinck's plays

down

committing to

these authors.

entering the forest dose by, where

glade,

book on

hanging on to a strap

trains, either

or standing on the platform looking

filthy,

encounter

word Renais-

sec the

and bewilder

us.

certainly,

To

get the

one has to combine the properties of the

female as given in ancient drama with those which only the burlesque
theatre (in our time) has dared to reveal.

* Pauline Lord's
only a poor
actress,

voice, for example, in

Anna

am

alluding,

Christie

"

of course,
God,

am

bum "or
I

m Dommage

the voice of Ludcnne Lcmarchand, the French

qu'elle soit putain ! Or our own dear Margo's.

307

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

to those so-called " degrading "

from

derive

commedia

the

Since reading the

life

comic

del' arte

of de Sade,

who

years at the insane asylum at Charenton,

would be

it

like to

At

insane people.

all

manner of external

delirium, carry the

One
its

have often wondered

the root of Artaud's ideas

go mad and,

literally

closing

wimess the performance of a group of

the thought of having the players so

the aid of

some of his

spent

where he amused himself

writing and directing plays for the inmates,

what

which

in burlesque

bits

of the Middle Ages.

on

work upon

the theatre was

the audience (with

would

devices) that the spectators

participating with the actors in a frenzy of

drama

to real

and unthinkable

excesses.

thing about the theatre which has always impressed

power

to

overcome national and

racial barriers.

me

is

few plays

given by a group of foreign actors interpreting their native dramatists

can do more,
the

first

have observed, than a cartload of books.

But once

resentment,

anger,

what was

the virus takes,

becomes

aUen,

are

reactions

and

accepted

absurd, preposterous, utterly

approved,

America has received wave

endorsed.

after

nay,

enthusiastically

wave of such

of our

influences, always to the betterment

own

theatre remains within

the shocks

Ah, but

About

which
let

me

its

own

are administered to

it

foreign

native drama.

But, hke foreign cuisines, these infusions never seem to

American

Often

deception or disgust.

last.

The

hmited bounds, despite

from time

all

to time.

not overlook that strange figure, David Belasco

the time that

my

added Frank Harris to

father

his

list

of

customers, thanks to his son's interest in literature, there came

one day to the

shop

tailor

dark, magnetic charm,

backwards,
sensual,

who

this

who,

sombre, priest-Uke individual with

clergyman, wore his collar

like a

dressed always in black, yet

was thoroughly aUve,

glowing, almost feline in his gestures and movements.

David Belasco

name

that

Broadway

will ever

remember.

He was not my father's customer but the cHent of one of my father's

associates, a man named Erwin, who was mad about two things

boats and paintings.

permanent

shop

There were

at that

fixtures, so to say

figures

Bunchek, the

cutter, this

man Erwin,

boss tailor, and Chase, another boss tailor.

more from one another than

308

these did.

time four prominent

connected with

the tailor

Rente, a sort of dereUct

No four men could differ

Each one was an

eccentric,

THE THEATRE
each one, with the exception of Bimchek, had his very personal

aiid

and very pecuUar assortment of customers

mere handful, indeed, but

Or

perhaps

it

would be more

by playing
his

"yacht" and always

on

the side

say"

partially alive."

and a Yankee to the

Erwin,

evening.

by taking

guests out for a

was to work nights in a wealthy

sail.

As for poor Rente, he

The

greatest

boon

twelve sharp,

their

But what they

with a sort of Sherwood Anderson

full

at

gift

He was a bom storyteller,

for hemming and hawing,

of character, so cocksure, so argumenta-

pugnacious, so bull-headed, so eternally right, that he

They gave

their cHents just

could go elsewhere.

of

was

Which

**

take

one

it

or leave

fitting

it."

Erwin

made

As for

himself obnoxious to every one, his customers included.

these latter, his attitude

noon

swimming

the entire afternoon

and baking himself in the broiling sun.

tive, so

was to duck out

and head for Coney Island or Rock-

away Beach, where he would spend

but he was so damned

all

propensity for dreaming Hfe away.

offered for Chase

life

if possible

his solution

making sandwiches and

club,

serving beer and brandy to the card players.

common was

crazy about

him from heading for SheepsErwin made little sums

boat lay at anchor

his

who was

had none of the mad or rash quaUties of these two

had in

either,

fretting because his customers failed to

time, thus preventing

head Bay where

many

keep them aUve.

one too, eked out the remainder of his income

billiards in the

show up on

accurate to

who was from Maine

Hal Chase, for example,

core, a cantankerous

not

sufficient, apparently, to

likewise.

they

if that didn't suit,

they usually did. Nevertheless, because

their eccentric natures, because

of

their peculiar,

odd

associates

and the milieus in which they traveled, because of the language

they talked, the figures they cut, they were constantly picking up

new

clients

and often most astonishing ones. Belasco,

one of Er win's customers.

I

never could

tell.

What

these

as I said,

two men had

Nothing, apparently.

Sometimes

in

was

common

my

father's

customers would collide with the customers of these other boss

tailors as

ment on

they were leaving the dressing room.

the part of

all.

Many of my

General astonish-

father's customers, as I

have

recounted in Black Spring, were his cronies, or became his cronies,

through frequent meetings

them,

men of

parts (a

at the

bar across the

number of them

street.

Some of

celebrated actors), found

309

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

themselves delightfully at

Some of them were

home

astute

back room of the

in the

enough

Bunchek

to engage

tailor shop.

in conversa-

drawing him out about Zionism, the Yiddish

tion or argument,

Many

poets and playwrights, the Kabbala, and such topics.

afternoon,

when

it

seemed

as if the

lishment had utterly died away,

Bunchek's cutting

at

hear the word,

name of

but the

of Zionism,

we

a play

is

most unheard of problems,

and cosmological.

not the name of a

me

Thus, Siberia,

vast, frozen tundra,

by Jacob Gordin. Theodor

even more of a father to

is

an

estab-

whilcd away the weary hours

table, discussing the

religious, metaphysical, zodiacal

when

combined cUentele of the

Herzl, the father

than the hatchet-faced

George Washington.

One of
was

the most beloved individuals

a customer

of

my

father's

named

who

frequented the shop

who was
To

Julian I'Estrange,

then married to Constance Collier, the star of Peter Ihhetson.

hear Julian and Paul

discussing

Poindcxter

^Paul

Sheridan's plays or the histrionic virtues of

was almost hke

for example,

Paul of Tarsus.

(who caught
their talk,

he

Or

listening to

who knew not a word of Sheridan, Marlowe, Webster,

on

Fats

tail oflf

was redolent of drink,

itching to retire into his

and dream.

his perverse
it

was just

way, had created them

this

tailoring.

It

all tailors

atmosphere which gave

the

Each one was

private world, a world, need

which had absolutely nothing to do with

But

listening to

monologues

The whole atmosphere of

discussion

own

after a session

it all,

into their respective

their respective, obsessive trivia.

God, in

Waller

meeting room. Or, to top

Chase, Rente, Erwin, Inc.,

will

Bunchek

only dimly and confusedly) disparage

their lingo

at a Christian Science

place

JuHan the Apostate versus

then, as sometimes happened, to hear

or even Shakespeare, was like turning

on

the merits of

Marlowe and Webster,

me

say

was

it,

as if

against their

the necessary

preparation for egress into the bizarre and tmfathomable world

of the

solitary male,

gave

me

strange, premature

and premonitory

notions of character, of passions, pursuits, vices, folUes, deeds and

intentions.

Was

it

so extraordinary, therefore, that observing

with a book of Nietzsche's under

Poindextcr should take

me

aside

my

arm one

and give

me

Marcus AureUus and Epictetus, whose works

but dared not admit, because

310

day, the

me

good Paul

a long lecture
I

hadn't the heart to

on

had aheady read

let

Paul down.

THE THEATRE
And

Belasco ?

But

reverence.

this

him on and

helped

Belasco was always

almost forgot about him.

hermit.

silent as a

which

silence

inspired respect rather than

do remember

I
oflf

with

him

vividly about

And

his trousers.

that

remember

the

illuminated smile he always gave in return for this Httle service

it

was

like receiving a hundred-dollar tip.

But before winding up the

tailor

shop

must say a word or two

You

about the newspaper columnists of that day.

were sometimes

scarce,

drummers were always

sec, if clients

Not

plentiful.

passed but three or four of them dropped in, not in hopes

an order, but to
fashion.

weary bones,

rest their

After they had discussed the

to

chew

day

of taking

the rag in friendly

news of the day they

fastened

The two reigning favorites were Don Marquis

and Bob Edgren. Oddly enough, Bob Edgren, a sports writer,
had a great influence upon me. I sincerely beHeve I am telling the
on

the columnists.

truth

when

column

say that

that

was through reading Bob Edgren*s daily

it

what

cultivated

of

sense

play

fair

Edgren

have.

man his due after weighing all the pros and cons he
would give his man the benefit of the doubt. I saw in Bob Edgren
a sort of mental and moral referee. He was as much a part of my
gave every

Me

then

Cabell.
ringside,

as
It

Walter Pater, Barbey d'Aurevilly or James Branch

was a

when

relative merits

idols

were

period,

of course, when

went frequently to the

my

pals discussing the

my first
my own,

of the various masters of fisticuffs. Almost

prizefighters.

had a whole pantheon of

which included among others such

Tom

spent whole evenings with

Sharkey, Joe Cans,

Jim

Terry

figures as

Ad

Jeffries,

McGovem,

Wolgast, Joe Rivers,

Jack Johnson, Stanley Ketchel, Benny Leonard, Georges Carpentier

and Jack Dempsey.

was almost

as

to

me

And then there were the six-day

What I mean to point out by all

as

bike riders
this

contests, the banquets indoors

is

Stop

that the reading

we waged,

and out, the musical

and those provided by the masters), were

one continuous, uninterrupted

Jim Londos

Hercules was for the Greeks.

the going to plays, the heated discussions

into

Litde

Ditto for the wrestlers.

much of a god

all

activity.

the sports

fiestas

(our

own

merged and blended

On

the

way

arena in Jersey the day of the Dempsey-Carpentier battle

incidentally, almost equal in

of books,

to the

an event,

importance for us to the heroic, single311

THE BOOKS

MY

IN

LIFE

handed combats beside the walls of Troy

with

my

companion, a concert
o{ Penguin

significance
later,

my

of

this

^but

La Guerre

Iliad,

on one

beautiful godlike figure

discussing

A few years

de Troie naura pas

lieuy I

witoessed the sad defeat

Again, in Greece, on the island of

or trying to

anyhow, reading of

other heroic figures

when

black day

favorite, Carpentier.

Corfu, reading the

remember

Island and the Revolt of the Angels.

in Paris, while reading

suddenly recalled

the contents, style and

pianist,

for

it

went

against the grain

mighty Ajax, and

Achilles, the

all

the

thought again of the

side or the other, I

of Georges Carpentier,

saw him wilt and

crumple, sink to the canvas under the crushing, sledgehammer

blows of the Manassa mauler.

was just

occurred to

It

as stunning, just as vivid, as the

god.

And

grin,

and the other legendary figures

with

this

me

then that his defeat

death of a hero or a demi-

thought came recollections of Hamlet, Lohen-

Why

whom

Why

Jules Laforgue

But thus

had

are

books

eighteen to twenty-one or twenty-two, the period

when

recreated in his inimitable style.

confounded with the events and deeds of life.

From

the Xerxes

Society flourished,

ing, drinking, play-acting,

I travel

round the world

music-making

And

all

recall the titles

a fine musician,

horseplay.

a French restaurant in the roaring Forties,

the place was ours.

!)

am
tall

(O

fiddledee,

the while

when

was headed

my

head

off.

used to carry about under

:

we were

they closed the doors

O fiddledee, O fiddledum-dum-

was reading

of those books

no matter where

There

New York which we did not patronize.

so well liked, the twelve of us, that

dee

(** I

broad farce and

"),

wasn't a foreign restaurant in

Chez Bousquet,

was a continuous round of feast-

it

can

Anathema, Chekov's Short

The Devil's Dictionary, the complete Rabelais, the

still

my arm,
Stories,

Satyricon, Lecky's

History of European Morals, With Walt in Camden, Westermarck*s

History of

Human

Marriage,

The

Scientific

Bases of Optimism,

The

Riddle of the Universe, The Conquest of Bread, Draper's History of the

Intellectual

Volpone,

of

Development of Europe, the Song of Songs by Sudermann,

"
tears over the " convulsive beauty

and such-like. Shedding

Francesca da Rimini,

memorizing

(just as later, in Paris, I will

famous

letter to

Gauguin,

as

with Hermann und Dorothea

312

bits

of Minna von Barnhelm

memorize the whole of

given in Avant

et

Strindberg's

Apres), struggling

(a gratuitous struggle,

because

had


THE THEATRE
wrestled with
exploits

for a

it

of Benvenuto

Herbert Spencer's
the

whole year in

school), marveling over the

bored with Marco Polo, dazed by

Cellini,

logistica,"

by everything from

First Principles, fascinated

hand of Henri Fabre, plugging away

moved by

Max

at

Mailer's

**

philo-

charm of Tagore's poetic

the quiet, lyrical

prose, studying the great Finnish epic, trying to get through the

Mahabarrhata, dreaming with Olive Schreiner in South Africa,

MoUere, Sardou,

reveling in Shaw's prefaces, flirting with

my way

de Maupassant, fighting
series,

wading through

What

a hfe

that useless

Small wonder

book of

Voltaire's

Zadig

never became a merchant

(Yet thrilled to discover that The Merchant Tailor was the

a well-known Elizabethan play.)

not more wonderful,

"vermouth duckbill"
Bill

more
talk

Scribe,

through the Rougon-Macquart

At

same time

the

bizarre

carrying

with such cronies

as

and

tailor.
title
is

of

this

on a kind of
George Wright,

Dewar, Al Burger, Connie Grimm, Bob Haase, Charhe Sul-

Hvan, Bill Wardrop, Georgie GifFord, Becker, Steve Hill, Frank

Carrollall good members of the Xerxes Society.

that atrociously

we

naughty play

afternoon in a famous httle theatre

good time we had, we big boobies

and

all

the rage. So daring

of it afterwards

at

on

fierce

What

a great

And what a night we made

always rose at five a.m.

my Bohemian racing wheel to Coney Island

and back. Sometimes, skeetering over the thin

morning, the

A French play it was, of course,

Those were the days, drunk or sober,

sharp to take a spin

Ah, what was

to see one Saturday

on Broadway

So risque

Bousquet's

went

all

wind carrying me along

ice

like

of a dark winter

an iceboat,

would

be shaking with laughter over the events of the night beforejust

a few hours before, to be exact. This, the Spartan regime, combined

with the

feasts

reading, the

and

festivities,

argument and

the

one-man study

discussions, the

course, the pleasure

clowning and buffoonery,

the fights and wrestling bouts, the hockey games, the six-day races
at the

Garden, the low dance

halls,

the piano-playing and piano

teaching, the disastrous love affairs, the perpetual lack

of money,

the contempt for work, the goings-on in the tailor shop, the soHtary

promenades to the

pond where,
skates

this

reservoir, to the

if the ice

cemetery (Chinese), to the duck

were thick enough,

unilateral,

multilingual,

would

try out

my racing

sesquipedaHan activity night

313

THE BOOKS IN MY LIFE

and day, morning, noon and night, in season and out, drunk or

drunk and

sober, or

sober, always in the

crowd, always milling

around, always searching, struggling, prying, peeping, hoping,

one foot forward, two

trying,

feet

backward, but on, on, on, com-

pletely gregarious yet utterly soHtary, the

good

sport and at the

time thoroughly secretive and lonely, the good pal

a cent but could always

borrow somehow

on

the surface, a mixer and a clinker, a

handling, the friend of

there

up and played out

concert

frineral parlors,

armories,

circuses,

arenas,

Gowanus

canal,

all

gathered

Manhattan

foulest city in the world, this place I sprang

cheese-box of

halls,

and

yet really nobody's friend, well

in the shabby purUeus of Brooklyn,

and the Bronx, the

from*

all

at heart

man not above pan-

was, a sort of caricature of Elizabethan times,

it

same

never had

to give to others, a

gambler but never gambUng for money, a poet

wastrel

who

churches,

markets

Arabian

ice

Gansevoort

cream

museums, opera houses,

stadiums,

saloons,

carnivals,

and Wallabout,

stinking

dry docks,

parlors, ferry houses,

Navy Yard, suspension bridges, roller skating rinks.

Bowery flophouses, opium dens, gambling joints, Chinatown,
Roumanian cabarets, yellow journals, open trolley cars, aquariums,
sugar refineries.

Saengerbunds, tum-vereins, newsboys' homes. Mills' hotels, peacock

alley lobbies, the

Zoo, the Tombs, the Zeigfeld

drome, the Greenwich Village

homes of

private

my

fiiends,

dives, the

Follies,

the Hippo-

hot spots of Harlem, the

of the girb

loved, of the

men

in Greenpoint, Williamsburg, Columbia Heights, Erie

Basinthe endless gloomy
the gasHghts, the
gas tanks,
revered

fat

streets,

the throbbing, colorfiil ghetto, the docks and wharves, the big ocean
the banana freighters, the

liners,

the old desolate

forts,

Place,

United

(hard

by

sodas

!),

Dutch

gun

streets.

open

trolley to

abandoned

Pomander Walk, Patchin

curb market. Perry's drug store

States Street, the

the Brooklyn Bridge

the

boats, the old

^such

frothy,

milky

ice

cream

Sheepshead Bay, the gay Rockaways,

the smell of crabs, lobsters, clams, baked blue fish, fried scallops,

*"

Ah

when everything -wis

and never-to-be-forgotten age
has ever been since, or ever will be again when Buttermilk
Channel was quite dry at low water when the shad in the Hudson were all
salmon, and when the moon shone with a pure and resplendent whiteness,
instead of that melancholy yellow Ught which is the consequence of her
sickening at the abominations she every night witnesses in this degenerate
!

better than

dty

314

"

blissful

it

(Washington Irving.)

THE THEATRE
of beer for

the schooner

five cents, the free

lunch counters, and

somewhere, anywhere, every old where, always one of Andrew

Carnegie's " pubUc " Hbraries, the books you so passionately wanted
always " out ** or not listed, or labelled, like Henncssy*s whiskies
and brandies, with three

No, they were not

stars.

Athens, nor the days and nights of

the days of old

Rome, nor

the murderous,

froHcsome days of Elizabethan England, nor were they even the

"good old 'Nineties " but it was " httle ole Manhattan "just the

name of that

same, and the

remember

is

Alley, but

it

all

little

won t come
hams such

as

as

the Breslin Bar or Peacock

now.

back, not

the theatres were there,

including the

old theatre I'm trying so hard to

me

just as famiHar to

But

was there

it

ottce,

the grand old actors and actresses,

all

Corse Payton, David Warfield, Robert

man my father loathed, his namesake, Henry

stand, in memory at least, and with them the

Mantell, as well as the

They

Miller.

still

days long past, the plays long since digested, the books,

them,

unread, the

still

the universe

and give me yesterday

And now, just

am

as I

some of

(" Turn back

to be heard from.

critics still

")

closing shop for the day,

comes

it

to

me,

name of the theatre

Wallack's ! Do you remember it i You
see, if you give up struggling (memoria-technica) it always comes
the

back to you.

Ah, but

see

outside. Shure,

So daring!

So

again

it

dingy old temple facade of the

had read, and

They seemed

For then

more important

lived through, are

I

was with

Stand up,

see

how

often

So naughty!

me

must

tell

was going to

once, and important they

still,

though they were of lesser

with

my

members of

you one and

have thought of you

laughed through, wept through,

others,

ancient

>

have hardly touched on

Stand up, even if your feet are in the grave!

parting salute.

see the poster

Rector's

what matter
I

so important to

undoubtedly were. But the plays

buddies.

once was, the

it

risqu6!

sentimental note to close, but

cahbre.

just as

And with it

and if it wasn't T/j Girlfrom

speak of the plays

them.

now,

theatre.

since.

friends,

my

my

must give you a

how much I
May we all be

all

pak,

the Xerxes Society!

loved you,
reunited in

the beyond!

We were all such fine musicians,

O fiddlcdce, O fiddledee, O fiddle-

dum-dum-dee!
315

THE BOOKS
And now

MY

IN

LIFE
of

take leave

that

young man

in the lugubrious parlor reading the Classics.

What

sitting alone upstain

What

a dismal picture!

could he have done with the Classics, had he succeeded in

swallowing them

The

Slowly, slowly,

Classics!

am coming

not by reading them, but by making them.

Where

them

with the ancestors, with my, your, our glorious predecessors,

on

the field

of the cloth of gold.

though you are not precisely a

Bref, daily life

classic,

And why

miserable, vinegar-bitten skeleton. Monsieur Arouet

me

at this

moment.

duds and dunderheads

who

out a petarade.

To what end

and adjudicate

that,

skates or without,

comes

first.

elle-meme

likewise gave
?

To

me

nothing.

could

nouveau

it

different

whether drunk or sober, whether with

Oui, en terminant ce

that

let

indicate, to signify, to asseverate

fists

fatras,

d*^v^nements de

a Cendrars.

roller

or six-ounce gloves,

De

la

ma

life

pure

musique avant

Mais, que donne mieux la musique de la vie que la vie

January

to

Bug

316

neither

on

Because

name twelve hundred

whether with bare

jeunesse, je pense de

toute chose!

could

pick
?

is

Voltaire,

you gave me nothing,

with your Zadig, nor with your Candide.

suits

to

join

December, 1950,
Stir,

California.

APPENDIX
The Hundred Books Which

Author

Ittfluenced

Me

Most*

Title

Ancient Greek Dramatists

Arabian Nights Entertainment
(for children)

Elizabethan

Playwrights
cepting Shakespeare)

(ex-

European Playwrights of the

Nineteenth Century, including Russian and Irish

Greek Myths and Legends

Knights of King Arthur's Court
Abelard, Pierre

Tite

Alain-Foumier
Andersen, Hans Christian

The Wanderer

Anonymous
Balzac, Honore de

Story of

My

Misfortunes

Fairy Tales

Diary of a Lost One

Seraphita

Louis Lambert

Bellamy, Edward

Looking Backward
The Path to Rome

Belloc, Hilaire

Blavatsky,

Mme. H.

P.

Boccaccio, Giovanni

Andre

Breton,

The Secret Doctrine

The Decameron
Nadja

Bronte, Emily

Wuthering Heights

Bulwer-Lytton, Edward
Carroll, Lewis
Celine, Louis-Ferdinand

The Last Days of Pompeii

Cellini,

Benvenuto

Alice in Wonderland

Journey to the End of the Night

Autobiography

Cendrars, Blaise

Virtually the complete

Chesterton, G. K.

St. Francis

Conrad, Joseph
Cooper, James Fenimore
Defoe, Daniel

His works in general

De

Nerval, G<$rard

* This

list

The

works

of Assisi

Leatherstocking Tales

Robinson Crusoe
His works in general

appeared in Pour Une Bibliothique

Wale;

Editions Gallimard,

Paris, 195 1.

317

APPENDIX

Author

Title

Dostoievsky, Feodor
Dreiser,

Theodore

His works in general

His works in general

Diihamel, Georges
Du Maurier, George

Salavin Series

Dumas, Alexander
Eckermann, Johann Peter

The Three Musketeers

Conversations with Goethe

Eltzbacher, Paul

Anarchism

Emerson, Ralph Waldo

Fabre, Henri

Representative

EUe

Faurc,

Fenollosa, Ernest

Gidc,

Andi6

Trilby

Men

His works in eeneral

The History ofArt

The Chinese Written Character

as a Medium for Poetry
Dostoievski

Giono, Jean

Refits d'Ob^issance

Que majoie
Jean

te

demeure

Bleu

Grimm, The Brothers

Fairy Tales

Gutkind, Erich

The Absolute Collective

She
His works in general
His works in general

Haggard, Rider

Hamsun, Knut
Henty, G. A.
Hesse,

Hermann

Hudson,

W.

H.

Hugo, Victor
Huysmans, Joris Karl
Joyce, James
Keyscrling,

Hermann

Siddhartha

His works in general

Les Miserables
Against the Grain
Ulysses

South American Meditations

Lao-tse

Mutual Aid
Tao Teh Ch*ing

Latzko, Andreas
Long, Haniel

Interlinear to

M.

Gospel of Ramakrishna

Kropotkin, Peter

Machen, Arthur
Maeterlinck, Maurice

Mann, Thomas

Men

in

War
Caheza de Vaca

The Hill of Dreams

His works in general
The Magic Mountain

Mencken, H. L.

Prejudices

Nietzsche, Friedrich
Nijinsky, Vaslav

His works in general

Diary

NordhofF&

Pitcairn Island

Hall

Nostradamus
Peck, George Wilbur
Percival,

W.

O.

The Centuries
Pedes Bad Boy
William Blake's Circle of Destiny

Petronius

The Satyricon

Plutarch

Lives

318

APPENDIX
Author

Title

Powys, John Cowper

Prescott, William H.
Proust, Marcel

Rabelais, Francois

Rimbaud, Jean-Arthur

Romain

Rolland,

Rudhyar, Dane
Saltus, Edgar
Scott, Sir Walter
Sicnkicwicz,
Sikelianos,

Henry

Anghclos

Visions and Revisions

Conquest of Mexico
Peru

Remembrance of Things Past

Garguanta and Pantagmel
His works in general
Jean Christophe
Prophets or the

New India

Astrology of Personality
The Imperial Purple

Ivanhoe

Quo

Vadis

Proanakrousma

(in

manuscript,

translated)

Sinnett,

A. P.

Spencer, Herbert
Spengler,

Oswald

Strindberg, August

Esoteric

Buddhism

^^

Autobiography

The Decline of the West

The Inferno

Suar^s, Carlo

Krishnamurti

Suzuki, Daisetz Teitaro

Zen Buddhism

Swift, Jonathan
Tennyson, Alfred
Thoreau, Henry David

Idylls

Gulliver^s Travels

of the King

Civil Disobedience

and Other

Essays

Twain, Mark

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Van Gogh, Vincent

Werfel, Franz

Theo
The Maurizius Case (Trilogy)
Akhnaton
The Unveiling of Timbuctoo
Star of the Unborn

Whitman, Walt

Leaves of Grass

Wassermann, Jacob
Weigall, Ardiur
Welch, Galbraith

Letters to

319

APPENDIX
Books I

Still

II

Intend

to

Read

Author

Title

Anonymous
Aquinas, Thomas

My

Aragon, Louis

Le Paysan

Bonaparte, Napoleon

Memoirs

Calas, Nicholas

Foyers d'Incendie

Casanova, Giacomo Giralamo

Chestov, Leon

Memoirs

Cleland, Dr. John

Memoirs of Fanny Hill

Dc Gourmont, R^my
De la Bretonne, Restif

Le Latin Mystique

De Laclos, Choderlos
De Lafayette, Madame
De Sade, Marquis

Dangerous Acquaintances

Dickens, Charles

Pickwick Papers

Doughty, Charles

Arabia Deserta

Secret Life

Summa

Athenes

Theologica
de Paris

et Jerusalem

Monsieur Nicholas

Les Nuits de Paris

Fielding,

The Princess ofCleves

The Hundred and Twenty Days
of Sodom

Tom Jones

Henry

Flaubert, Gustavc

Sentimental Education

Gibbon, Edward

Tlie

Decline

and

Fall

of the

Roman Empire
The Orphic Myths

Harrison, Jane

Prolegomena

Hugo, Victor
Huizinga, H.
James, Henry

of the Sea
The Waning of the Middle Ages
The Golden Bowl
Melmoth the Wanderer
Toilers

Maturin, Charles
Michelet, Jules

History oftlie French Revolution

Multatuli

Max Havelaar

RadchfFe,

Ann Ward

Piviere, Jacques

& Alain-Fournier

The Mysteries of Udolpho

Correspondence

Rousseau, Jean Jacques

Entile

Stendhal

La

SuUivan, Louis
Swift, Jonathan
Vach^, Jacques

And

Chartreuse de Parme
The Autobiography of an Idea

Letters to Stella
Lettres de Guerre

works of the following authors :Jean-Paul Richter,

Leon Daudet,
Gerard Manley Hopkins, T. F. Powys, Ste. Ther^e, St. John of
the

Novalis, Croce, Toynbee, Leon Bloy, Orage, Federov,

the Cross.

320

APPENDIX
Friends

Ben Abramson
Graham Ackroyd
Dr. Bruno Adrian!

Who

Supplied

Mohegan

Lake,

Sticklepath,

Me

With Books

New York

England

Hamburg, Germany

Oscar Baradinsky

Monterey, CaUfornia
Phoenix, Arizona
Yonkers, New York

Rene

Paris,

E.

Auk

Barjavel

Roland

France

Monterey, California
Hollywood, California
Lyons, France
SausaUto, CaUfornia

Bartell

Richard Beesley
Dr. Pierre BeUcard
Hilary Belloc
Raoul Bertrand
Earl Blankinship
Andre Breton
Robert A. Campbell
Robert H. Carlock
Blaise Cendrars
Rives Childs
J.

Paris,

France

Seattle,

Paris,

Washington

France

Cyril Connolly

Kankakee, Illinois
Tucson, Arizona
Paris, France
Jidda, Saudi Arabia
Big Sur, CaHfornia
London, England

Albert Cossery

Paris,

Pascal Covici

New York City, New York

Hugh Chisholm

Frau Elisabeth

Dibbem

Lawrence Durrell
Jean Dutourd
David F. Edgar
Frank Elgar
Pete Fenton
Robert Finkelstein

J.H.Flagg

Mme.

Genevieve Fondane
Wallace FowUe

John

Gildersleeve

Jean Giono
Maurice Girodias

Raymond Gu&in
Jac.

Carmel, California

Heinz Albers
Bruce Arliss

WiUiam

III

de Haan

E. Haldeman-JuHus

France

Ohrigen, Germany
Belgrade, Yugoslavia

London, England
Spring Valley,
Paris,

New York

France

Los Angeles, CaUfornia

Los Angeles, CaUfornia
Chicago, Illinois
Paris, France
Bennington, Vermont
Sacramento, CaUfornia
Manosque, France
Paris, France
Bordeaux, France
The Hague, HoUand
Girard, Kansas

Sweden

Lars Gustav Hellstrom

Solna,

Walter Holscher

Hollywood, California
Los Angeles, CaUfornia
Santa Fe, New Mexico

Andrew Horn
Willard Hougland

321

APPENDIX

III

Claude Houghton

London, England

Louisa Jenkins

Pebble Beach, California

Sacramento, California
Paris, France
Norfolk, Connecticut

JohnKidis
Pierre Laleure

James Laughlin
Janko Lavrin
Mme. H. Lc Boterf
George Leite

Nottingham, England
Paris,

France

Berkeley, California

Pierre Lesdain

Brussek, Belgium

Dr. Michael Lubtchansky

Pierre Mabille

Paris,

France

Paris,

France

Albert MaiUet

Viennc, France

Rose K. Margoshes
H. Masui
Gregory Mason
Katnryn Mecham
H. L. Mermoud

New York City, New York

J.

Albert

Mermoud

Sheldon Messingcr
H.W. Mediorstjr.
Maurice Nadeau
Gilbert

Neiman

Paris,

France

New York City, New York

Chicago,

Illinois

Lausanne, Switzerland
Lausanne, Switzerland

Los Angeles, California

Graveland, Holland
Paris, France
Denver, Colorado

Swami Nikhilananda

New York City, New York

Stan Noyes

Berkeley, California

Maud Oakes
Hugh O'Neill

Big Sur, California

Big Sur, CaUfomia

Gordon Onslow-Ford

SausaUto, California

Kenneth Patchen
Alfred Perl^
David Peery
Lawrence Clark Powell
John Cowper Powys

Old Lyme, Connecticut

London, England
Los Angeles, California
Los Angeles, California
Corwcn, Wales

Raymond Queneau

Paris,

Paul Radin
Rajagopal

Berkeley, California

Man Ray

Hollywood, Cahfomia

France

Ojai, California

Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes

Saint-Jeannet, France

John Rodker
Harrydick and LiUian Bos Ross
Andr6 Rousseaux

London, England
Big Sur, California

James

Inverness, California

Mrs.

S.

Russell

Mark

Saunders

Paris,

France

Carmel, California

Bezalel Schatz

Lebanon
Big Sur, California

Dr. Olga Schatz

Berkeley, California

Tawfig Sayigh

322

Beirut,

APFBNDIX
W.

Schild

H. W. Schlamildi
Emil Schnellock

J.

Lausanne, Switzerland
Utrecht, Holland
Fredericksborg, Virginia

France

Pierre Seghers

Paris,

Henri S^guy

Sarlat,

Jack

W.

Stauffadicr

France

San Francisco, Cabfomia

Frances Steloff

New York City, New York

Ruth Stephan

Westport, Connecticut
Paris, France
Paris, France

Irving Stettner

Carlo Suar^

W. T.

Symons

Richard

Thoma

London, England
Limona, Florida

Gny Tosi

Paris,

Ckura Urquhart

Johannesburg, South Africa

SausaHto, Califomia
Carmel, Cahfomia
Carmel, Cahfomia
Paris, France
Los Angeles, Califomia

Jean Varda
Boris Vieren
Alexander Victor
Mme. Jean Voiher

Robert Vospef
Kurt Wagenseil
Alan W. Watts
Herbert F. West

Emil White
Walker Winsk>w
Bemhard Wolfe
Kurt Wolff
Jacob Yerushalmy
Dante T. Ziaccagnini

France

Stamberg a/See, Germany

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Illinois

Hanover, New Hampshire

Big Sur, Califomia
Topeka, Kansas

New York City, New York

New York City, New York
Berkeley, Califomia

Port Chester.

New York

323