I have had my invitation to the dinner though I haven’t accepted yet, but I expect I shall go – a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to mingle in the Literary World, perhaps even to catch a glimpse of Maschler! I imagine you will be there? Anyway, Booker (Ballroom entrance, you note), here we come! Poor Paul Scott – one hears he is seriously ill. I hope he wins. Then Paul Bailey. Then B. Pym. I don’t know enough about the other women to pass judgement, but I’m not antifeminist.
Talking of Bailey – we met John Bayley and Iris at drinks with a young friend some weeks ago. I thought they were extremely nice and we had some agreeable conversation, enlivened by John suddenly dropping his glass which seemed to go off with a loud explosion and there we were all scrabbling on the floor picking up bits of glass! Iris was much smaller than I had imagined – I’d always thought of her as tall, but I seemed to tower above her (though only in height, of course).
I didn’t hear all of Jill but the bits I did hear seemed funny and moving and I really could hardly bear the attempts to cut thin bread and butter and in the end her not coming to the tea party. I hope this never happened to you – well, perhaps the bread and butter part did.
So glad you saw the TV programme and didn’t think it too bad. Hilary and I were invited to see it again and have lunch with the Producer and R. Robinson and others at the TV Centre last week! It was a bright day and all that glittering glass seemed like a temple of Mammon or the House of Pride, which I suppose it is in a way. They are all so nice though and I was presented with a book containing all the photographs etc. There have been various repercussions in the form of letters from people who haven’t seen me for 30, 40 or (in one case) even 50 years. ‘Yes, I am that Barbara Pym.…’ I let them go through our photograph albums because I like seeing things like that myself, but one friend who saw the programme didn’t like that aspect of it so you can’t win. Looking at those early photographs makes one wonder about the pattern of life and what the point of it all is – but luckily one doesn’t brood about it over much.
Quartet in A. has been accepted in Sweden! My ambition would be to have Liv Ullmann read it on the equivalent of Swedish Woman’s Hour! I think it might appeal to the Scandinavians. James Wright told me they are reprinting but what that means in sales figures I’m not sure as they probably wouldn’t print more than 3,000 to start with? Like Blackwell’s being ‘sold out’ (of 3 copies!!). Anyway I am so happy just to be in print again that nothing else matters.
Yours ever,
Barbara
Remembrance Sunday
Romans 8:35–39
Firemen on strike. ‘They didn’t want people to die’ said a firemen’s spokesman and the public have ‘avoided a fire situation’.
Success: cooking in sunflower oil a dry, unripe avocado.
18 November. Thoroughly cleaned sitting room, washed kitchen floor, did stairs with Hoover (flea preventative). Made scones. James W. rang up to say that an American publisher (Dutton) had taken Quartet. ‘Only’ 5,000 dollars! Henry rang.
23 November. Booker Prize. James and Alan drove me to Claridge’s. Very spacious inside, white and gold and a roaring coal fire in a sort of hall. In the ballroom a group had already assembled. I had a gin and tonic and was introduced to Lettice Cooper, Penelope Lively and her husband, various literary editors etc. and Tom Maschler. Francis King was sitting opposite when we arranged ourselves for dinner. I was next to Ion Trewin (Literary Editor of The Times). Philip spoke on what they had looked for in the novels. Could I read it? Did I believe it? Did it move me? Then he mentioned two of the near misses, mine and Caroline Blackwood’s, before coming to the winner, Paul Scott. His daughter Carol received it and made a short speech, then each of the runners up went up to receive a leather bound copy of their book. P. Bailey – not there. C. Blackwood – greyish, rather too-long hair, 2-colour long-sleeved dress. Jennifer Johnston – blonde, longish hair, dark-rimmed glasses, black dress. Penelope Lively – rather tall, glasses, flowered long sleeved dress. BP in her 65th year. Tall, short hair, long black pleated skirt, black blouse, Indian with painted flowers (C & A £4.90) and green beads.
To Philip Larkin
Barn Cottage
24 November 1977
Dear Philip,
What a marvellous evening it was – I did so enjoy it. Words are beginning to fail me … but you must know what a real deep pleasure the whole thing was – even to the meeting with Tom Maschler! (charming, of course). I thought your speech was splendid.
Alan talks of more reprints, perhaps he and ‘Tom’ can fight it out between them! Dutton in U.S.A. have taken Q. in A.
It was fascinating to me seeing the other short-listed authors – Penelope Lively seems to live not so very far from us – I now want to read her book. Also Caroline Blackwood’s. Hilary bought Paul Scott’s before she left for India and read and much enjoyed it, so I am looking forward to reading it myself.
Don’t bother to answer this – I don’t expect or wish it. It’s only just a heartfelt expression of thanks from the most over-estimated novelist of 1977.
Barbara
25 November. Took a condolence card to the Miss Hutts, popped it through their letter box and ran away. Bought two in Woodstock. The kind of thing you would always have by you.
30 December. Young Chinese American Ping Dai called after tea. Wanted assistance with ‘creative writing’, being disappointed in the facilities offered him at Oxford – St Clare’s Hall. This would make a short story for him – calling round West Oxford villages on a dank December evening in search of novelists.
‘Winter Break’ with Henry to Ross-on-Wye. Drove to Cheltenham where we had a drink at the Pump Room – salty, healthy-tasting water. Huge deserted ladies cloakroom – except for a lady traffic warden – one could imagine scenes from the past. Drank coffee and cream in a nice trendy café. Then to Deerhurst and visited Odda’s Chapel where a beautiful black and white cat rolled and accompanied us. In this area one sees mistletoe and black and white houses. Then to the forest of Dean where we had a pub lunch at the Speech House Hotel and walked in the forest. Arrived at Ross about 3.30. Henry made tea in his room – then a walk. Piped music everywhere and at dinner ‘Ain’t Misbehavin’ in a bouncy electronic way (Emma would know the tune – Graham wouldn’t).
To Philip Larkin
Barn Cottage
29 January 1978
Dear Philip,
I regret that I didn’t see a TLS with the death poem – will I have to wait till another collected poems? Perhaps one ought to have the TLS regularly, 1977 having been such a good year. If you have a copy of the poem I’d love to have it. (Can one ask for such things, a poem taking a bit less paper than a novel?)
Since I last wrote I’ve been busy coping on my own here, with Hilary in India but expected back next week. People have been very kind to me and I had a lot of invitations for Christmas and hardly needed to cook at all. I haven’t done as much writing as I’d hoped (of course) but a little and have been asked to do a talk in a radio series on ‘The Novelist’s Voice’, how I found my voice as a novelist etc. so I’ve been trying to write that and will be going to record it in February.
I have had some correspondence with Maschler (‘Dear Tom’ now) about reissuing the other books which he intends to do. And if he doesn’t Macmillan will! I had the proofs of The Sweet Dove Died some time ago, apparently done in India but rather fewer mistakes than the proofs of Quartet! I think it will be published in April. I wonder what people will think of it – so many people have not liked Quartet as much as my earlier books. Not reviewers, but friends and people who have written to me. But I have to point out that I wrote it entirely for my own satisfaction with (at that time) very little hope of publication!
Later
I started this letter in the morning, then broke off to get lunch and now how nice it was to hear you talking about the photocopying business on the radio, over my rice pudding. I used to spend happy minutes in the office copying letters in the old inn
ocent days when the thing was first invented (early sixties?). That wonderful light that used to glow, quite inspirational.
This weekend, cold and sleety, has been busy with the Local History Society Jumble Sale at which I assisted. Then on Tuesday we have the collection of clothes for Help the Aged, at which I shall also assist. Then cleaning the cottage to prepare for Hilary’s return! I’ve just made marmalade, quite successfully – the lure of the Seville Orange is not be resisted, and you can cut them up while watching the telly.
All the very best wishes,
Yours ever,
Barbara
To Bob Smith in Ibadan
Barn Cottage
10 February 1978
Dearest Bob,
The Sweet Dove will be published late April or early May (Some Tame Gazelle was published 1st May 1950). I expect people will find the SD totally different from Quartet and I daresay it will not be liked, but you can’t win, really, because quite a lot of people don’t like Quartet at all because it isn’t light and funny like some of my earlier ones. But the whole thing makes one wonder about the ‘literary scene’! Are there not other good writers in the wilderness who deserve the sort of treatment I’m now getting?
Much love,
Barbara
To Philip Larkin
Barn Cottage
5 March 1978
Dear Philip,
Thank you so much for sending the poem which fits very well into the blank page at the end of High Windows. I have read it many times, with, I was going to say, increasing pleasure and enjoyment – words which may seem inappropriate but that’s the feeling it gives me. I know it will be among the ones I like best – ‘Faith Healing’, ‘Ambulances’, ‘ The Building’ and of course ‘Jake Balokowsky’. But when I wake in the small hours I don’t think of death, I always try to switch my thoughts to something frivolous like clothes or planning a scene in a novel. And it’s not so much death that would worry me as an incapacitating illness or something like that.… And as of now, as they say, I can worry about a talk I am going to give to the Romantic Novelists’ Association on Wednesday next! Still, I’m sure they’ll be friendly and at least they’re all novelists, and I’ve been reading their works for the past four years.
Talking of ‘Jake Balokowsky’ reminds me that I have had a letter from Rota, the antiquarian bookseller, acting on behalf of an American University (he doesn’t say which) wanting to buy some or any of my manuscripts or typescripts of my immortal novels! This immediately reminded me of a correspondence (or was it an article?) from you in The Author some years ago about this sort of thing but I don’t think I’ve still got it. Ought one to bequeath one’s MSS to some English University (much to their dismay)? I imagine you must always be having requests for the scraps of paper you keep by your bed to write down things. What do you do about it?
It was so sad to learn that Paul Scott did die – I had hoped he wasn’t so ill after all. I had just finished reading Staying On which made me weep as well as laugh a lot. It must have been far and away the best of the six! Now I’m reading Penelope Lively’s which is most enjoyable and readable.
Occasionally I dip into Quartet in Autumn – open a page at random and marvel about the whole thing! James Wright tells me that they have reprinted it again, so that’s twice, and Blackwell’s now have a respectable number of copies! The SDD comes out end of May. You will of course be getting a copy when it appears. Which brings me to comment on your economy drive! At least you need not buy books. I don’t think one needs to buy much in the way of clothes either, though perhaps women ought to. Yet it isn’t done to wear furs now which in my youth I always longed for. But Earl Grey tea has gone down from 46p to 44p a quarter! Drink one needs, but luckily I don’t like whisky and am just a small steady drinker of wine and sherry with the occasional gin. But you of course seem to go to so many functions – your letter was full of a variety of social occasions and when you mentioned having to chair a lecture by William Empson I was taken back to 1943–4 in the Wrens in Naples where I used to ponder over that poem of his which begins ‘ Not locus if you will but envelope’ … with whom did I ponder? Can’t remember now!
Did you see my piece in The Times? – Caroline Moorehead asked me to do whatever I felt like so I produced a half-joke half-serious defence of the poor novel. I was very pleased to be published there. I’ve also done a radio talk in the Finding a Voice series which Beryl Bainbridge started last week. Mine comes on 4th April. I rather dread hearing it as I don’t like my voice but maybe I’ll get used to it. Such is ‘Fame’, as you must know!
Yes, I did see the Book Programme about Susan Hill having given up novel writing. Exactly how one often feels oneself don’t you think!
All good wishes,
Yours ever,
Barbara
Barn Cottage
16 March 1978
Dear Philip,
Yesterday I went into the garage and delved in the packing case or tea chest, where the MS remains of Miss Pym are deposited and I came up with what you see on the attached list! I suppose ‘draft’ is more appropriate than ‘version’ but the way I wrote, and still do, was to work straight on to a typewriter with a hand written draft or a few notes or even nothing. If whole chapters exist in handwriting it is because I didn’t have a typewriter available at the time, was away or ill in bed (the first version of Quartet was written in bed with my breakfast in Balcombe Street – 1973–4).
(Do you have the MSS drafts of A Girl in Winter and Jill?)
Of course with moving at various times I have destroyed a lot that I might otherwise have kept, though I still have a lot of unpublished stuff, novels and short stories. Perhaps the prize is my first novel written in 1929! [Young Men in Fancy Dress, unpublished] But I haven’t included these on the list. When I am gone, perhaps? What I personally value most are nearly 40 small notebooks (of a size to go in the handbag) in which I have since 1948 or thereabouts kept a kind of diary, not only of events and emotions but also of bits and ideas for novels. But these I couldn’t let go, while still alive!
I had written a noncommittal letter to Rota when I wrote to you, saying I would look and see if I had anything suitable though I hadn’t kept much. I honestly don’t care about the money – after all it would be money for nothing as it were – and wouldn’t like any of my MS handwritten material to go to USA to be pored over by earnest Americans (not even Jake Balokowsky). I wouldn’t mind letting them have a typescript but perhaps they would want more than that, though Rota did say typescript, and even proof copies; but proof copies I have mostly given away. Anyway since the Americans never published any of my novels (except Less Than Angels which sold 1 copy a year till Cape got the rights back!) their Eng. Lit. students might not be all that interested. Now of course Dutton has taken Quartet and also Excellent Women, but even so…
As you see, my remains are by no means complete, and if there was any chance of a British Library or University being interested I would gladly leave the whole lot to them, even without getting money. I suppose Rota acts mainly for USA (Texas or others?). I would really like to have something at Amherst, where a very nice American anthropologist I knew told me that certain ‘pornographic’ type books were kept in what was known as ‘The Treasure Room’ in the Amherst library. Surely New England for me, if anything?
The post brought a letter from my publisher to say that Woman’s Hour is to do a serial reading of Quartet! Rather unsuitable I would have thought, but a lot depends on the adaptation. Perhaps they will leave out the exact nature of Marcia’s operation (‘major surgery’would be enough), otherwise listeners will think me horribly unfeeling and lacking in sympathy, hardly realising that I know all about hospitals and operations from practical experience!
With best wishes and renewed thanks,
Yours ever,
Barbara
18 February. Long walk through churchyard and woodland paths and by fields full of frozen cabbages. (Graham and Emma. He just w
anted someone to bully and criticise when they were together. In small domestic matters at first).
26 February. People have now become familiar with the words and liturgy of the burial service through hearing them so often in TV plays. ‘For as much as it has pleased almighty God…’
To Philip Larkin
Barn Cottage
6 April 1978
Dear Philip,
Thank you very much for your most helpful letter, suggesting all the things I might do with my remains. I have decided, for the moment, on 1. (Do nothing). After all it had not occurred to me to do anything until Rota suggested it and now that I realise what the possibilities are I can consider things more carefully. So I wrote to Rota to this effect and haven’t heard anything more. And now my literary remains are all in a large cardboard box in my bedroom – more like a novel by J.I.M. Stewart than The Aspern Papers! As well as your letter, other things have inspired me to hang on to my MSS for the moment – one was going to an exhibition of Oxford writers in the Bodleian (a copy of Jill corrected for the re-issue among them), and another was reading a book about L. V. Woolf and seeing that various papers of his illustrated were stamped ‘University of Sussex’.
You say you will be in Oxford 19th–20th April – is that by any chance for the Rawlinson dinner at St John’s on the 19th? Because if it is, we may catch a glimpse of each other (‘across a crowded room’, of course) as I have been invited to this as a guest by an anthropologist I used to know in London who is now in Oxford (Edwin Ardener). I thought I had better warn you, though in a novel one would prefer the man to be taken by surprise and even dismayed!