A Life in Letters

  'Yes - you're granny' (with complete confidence, allowing his hand to be held and stroked).

  'No (ever so kindly), I'm not granny.'

  'Oh? What are you then?'

  Phyl is just the same as she used to be in her most charming moments. It was fun seeing her again. I think perhaps we might have a proper reunion some day. Couldn't you come and stay with her and while she is at the office eat potato crisps at the Criterion (Mary and I did this as much for old times' sake as because it was cold)? It seems to me superlatively clever for anyone to keep herself on the Stock Exchange, as she says she does. I wonder about it all the time I'm with her.

  The last candle is guttering, and there isn't any good way out of this letter. But perhaps it has broken a spell. Does yours mean that June is at Oxford? I just didn't know. Anyway she can't be more than fifteen. Norman? John? Elisabeth? Jean? Ruth? Your mother? Your father?9 I don't think I want any news of you and Quartus because I am quite sure I know all about you and it would be so dreadful to hear something quite different. The only thing I can do is to come and see. I am supposed to be having a holiday when the book is finished, as it will be this month, only we sha'n't have any money at all, and we were so rich.10 When are you coming to the sales? Or are you? I don't know whether I can get away even for a day because the book is late and the typescript of the final draft is not begun and Eric is writing a book in collaboration with a number of people including a German and I keep getting his manuscript to revise and not being able to understand anything at all in it11 - but if you were coming to the sales these things would all be less important to Pig.

  Did I wish you a happy new year?

  Please wish all your family a happy new year from me.

  Eric (I mean George) has just come in to say that the light is out (he had the Aladdin lamp because he was Working) and is there any oil (such a question) and I can't type in this light (which may be true, but I can't read it) and he is hungry and wants some cocoa and some biscuits and it is after midnight and Marx is eating a bone and has left pieces in each chair and which shall he sit on now.

  [LO, pp. 70-5; XI, 415A, p. 109; typewritten]

  1.Peace Pledge Union. Orwell has been said to have been a member but this is almost certainly not so. Orwell bought some of their pamphlets and a receipt, no. 20194, exists in the Orwell Archive for 2s 6d, dated 12 December 1937, from Mrs E. Blair - Eileen. That was thought to be a receipt for pamphlets but it seems to have been her subscription.

  2.George(s) Kopp* was Orwell's commander in Spain. They were then very close friends but their friendship cooled in the late 1940s. It was Kopp who did much to care for Orwell after he was wounded in the throat. Eileen's opening her heart to Norah here tells us much more than has previously been conjectured about their supposed relationship.

  3.Either Dellian for Delian, related to the Greek island of Delos, home of an oracle who posed obscure and convoluted responses to questions put to it; or an ironic reference to the romantic novels of Ethel M. Dell about whom Orwell is scathing in Keep the Aspidistra Flying, p. 3.

  4.Such operations give an impression of greater activity on the Huesca front than Orwell himself modestly suggested.

  5.There has been disagreement as to when Orwell first read Marx (see XI, pp. 65-6, n. 1). Richard Rees records in George Orwell: Fugitive from the Camp of Victory (1961) that everyone at the Adelphi Summer School in 1936 was astonished by his knowledge of Marx (p. 147). (See Crick, p. 629, n. 49.) 6.This must be Eileen's brother, Laurence O'Shaughnessy. Laurence's son, also called Laurence, was not born until 13 November 1938.

  7.Presumably Bertha Mary Wardell who had graduated with Eileen. (See 16.2.37 n. 11.) 8.Phyllis Guimaraens read Modern Languages at St Hugh's. Her father was a shipper of port wine; they lived at Petridge Wood, Redhill, Surrey. She married Harold Gabell 5 June 1926 at St Peter's, Eaton Square, London. Jenny Joseph suggested privately that The Mammett was a one-time tutor at St Hugh's or connected with the Senior Members' Association.

  9.Norah had two sisters, Jean and Ruth. Jean married Maurice Durant and was the mother of John, Margaret Durant's husband.

  10.Orwell took a second, carbon, copy of Homage to Catalonia to his agent, Leonard Moore, on 10 February 1938. Eileen's reference to their being so rich may be ironic but could refer to royalties received for the Left Book Club edition of The Road to Wigan Pier - some PS600 though much of that must have been spent in Spain. The 'holiday' to which Eileen refers might have been delayed because of Orwell's illness and then spent at Chapel Ridding, Windermere, about the middle of July. Whom she went to stay with there is not known.

  11.There is possibly confusion of Eric/husband and Eric/brother here. Eileen may well be referring to the latter and a medical book on which he was collaborating.

  On 5 February 1938 Orwell wrote to the editor of Time and Tide, which had published his review of Franz Borkenau's The Spanish Cockpit, regarding its rejection on political grounds by 'another well-known weekly paper'. Raymond Mortimer, critic and literary editor of the New Statesman and Nation wrote to Orwell on 8 February 1938 in protest, saying: 'It is possible of course that the "well known weekly paper" to which you refer is not the New Statesman but I take this as reference to us, and so no doubt will the majority of those who read your letter.' The offices of the New Statesman were bombed during the war, so all the correspondence of that time has been lost, but among his papers Orwell kept the originals of letters from Kingsley Martin, editor of the New Statesman and Raymond Mortimer and a carbon copy, reprinted here, of his reply to Mortimer.

  To Raymond Mortimer*

  9 February 1938

  The Stores

  Wallington

  Dear Mortimer,

  With reference to your letter of February 8th. I am extremely sorry if I have hurt your or anybody else's feelings, but before speaking of the general issues involved, I must point out that what you say in it is not quite correct. You say 'Your review of The Spanish Cockpit was refused, because it gave a most inadequate and misleading description of the book. You used the review merely to express your own opinions and to present facts which you thought should be known. Moreover, last time I saw you you acknowledged this. Why then do you now suggest, quite mistakenly, that the review was refused because it "controverted editorial policy"? Are you confusing the review with the previous refusal of an article, which you submitted, and which the editor turned down because we had just printed three articles on the same subject'

  I attach a copy of Kingsley Martin's letter 1. You will see from this that the review was refused because it 'controverts the political policy of the paper' (I should have said 'political policy' not 'editorial policy'.) Secondly, you say that my previous article had been turned down 'because we had just printed three articles on the same subject'. Now, the article I sent in was on the suppression of the P.O.U.M., the alleged 'Trotsky-Fascist' plot, the murder of Nin, etc. So far as I know the New Statesman has never published any article on this subject. I certainly did and do admit that the review I wrote was tendentious and perhaps unfair, but it was not returned to me on those grounds, as you see from the letter attached.

  Nothing is more hateful to me than to get mixed up in these controversies and to write, as it were, against people and newspapers that I have always respected, but one has got to realise what kind of issues are involved and the very great difficulty of getting the truth ventilated in the English press. So far as one can get at the figures, not less than 3000 political prisoners (ie. anti-Fascists) are in the Spanish jails at present, and the majority of them have been there six or seven months without any kind of trial or charge, in the most filthy physical conditions, as I have seen with my own eyes. A number of them have been bumped off, and there is not much doubt that there would have been a wholesale massacre if the Spanish Government had not had the sense to disregard the clamour in the Communist press. Various members of the Spanish Government have said over and over again to Maxton, McGovern, Felicien Challaye2 and others that
they wish to release these people but are unable to do so because of Communist pressure. What happens in Loyalist Spain is largely governed by outside opinion, and there is no doubt that if there had [been] a general protest from foreign Socialists the anti-Fascist prisoners would have been released. Even the protests of a small body like the I.L.P. have had some effect. But a few months back when a petition was got up for the release of the anti-Fascist prisoners, nearly all the leading English Socialists refused to sign it. I do not doubt that this was because, though no doubt they disbelieved the tale about a 'Trotsky-Fascist' Plot, they had gathered a general impression that the Anarchists and the P.O.U.M. were working against the Government, and, in particular, had believed the lies that were published in the English press about the fighting in Barcelona in May 1937. To mention an individual instance, Brailsford* in one of his articles in the New Statesman was allowed to state that the P.O.U.M. had attacked the Government with stolen batteries of guns, tanks etc. I was in Barcelona during the fighting, and as far as one can ever prove a negative I can prove by eye-witnesses etc. that this tale was absolutely untrue. At the time of the correspondence over my review I wrote to Kingsley Martin to tell him it was untrue, and more recently I wrote to Brailsford to ask him what was the source of the story. He had to admit that he had had it on what amounted to no authority whatever. (Stephen Spender* has his letter at present, but I could get it for you if you wanted to see it). Yet neither the New Statesman nor Brailsford has published any retraction of this statement, which amounts to an accusation of theft and treachery against numbers of innocent people. I do not think you can blame me if I feel that the New Statesman has its share of blame for the one-sided view that has been presented.

  Once again, let me say how sorry I am about this whole business, but I have got to do what little I can to get justice for people who have been imprisoned without trial and libelled in the press, and one way of doing so is to draw attention to the pro-Communist censorship that undoubtedly exists. I would keep silent about the whole affair if I thought it would help the Spanish Government (as a matter of fact, before we left Spain some of the imprisoned people asked us not to attempt any publicity abroad because it might tend to discredit the Government), but I doubt whether it helps in the long run to cover things up as has been done in England. If the charges of espionage etc. that were made against us in the Communist papers had been given a proper examination at the time in the foreign press, it would have been seen that they were nonsense and the whole business might have been forgotten. As it was, the rubbish about a Trotsky-Fascist plot was widely circulated and no denial of it was published except in very obscure papers and, very half-heartedly, in the [Daily] Herald and Manchester Guardian. The result was that there was no protest from abroad and all these thousands of people have stayed in prison, and a number have been murdered, the effect being to spread hatred and dissension all through the Socialist movement.

  I am sending back the books you gave me to review. I think it would be better if I did not write for you again, I am terribly sorry about this whole affair, but I have got to stand by my friends, which may involve attacking the New Statesman when I think they are covering up important issues.

  Yours sincerely

  [XI, 424, pp. 116-20; typewritten with handwritten addition]

  Handwritten on a separate sheet is a note by Orwell which, because there is no salutation, was almost certainly sent to Raymond Mortimer with the typewritten letter above. Orwell enclosed the letter from H. N. Brailsford which he said Spender had. (See XI, p.118.) 1.Basil Kingsley Martin (1897-1969), left-wing writer and journalist, was editor of the New Statesman and Nation, 1931-60.

  2.John McGovern (1887-1968), ILP MP, 1930-47; Labour M P, 1947-59, led a hunger march from Glasgow to London in 1934. Felicien Challaye, French left-wing politician, member of the committee of La Ligue des Droits des Hommes, a liberal, anti-Fascist movement to protect civil liberty throughout the world. He resigned in November 1937, with seven others, in protest against what they interpreted as the movement's cowardly subservience to Stalinist tyranny.

  Raymond Mortimer quickly sent Orwell a handwritten note saying, 'Dear Orwell, Please accept my humble apologies. I did not know Kingsley Martin had written to you in those terms. My own reasons for refusing the review were those that I gave. I should be sorry for you not to write for us, and I should like to convince you from past reviews that there is no premium here on Stalinist orthodoxy.' On 10 February, Kingsley Martin wrote to Orwell: 'Raymond Mortimer has shown me your letter. We certainly owe you an apology in regard to the letter about The Spanish Cockpit. There is a good deal else in your letter which suggests some misunderstanding and which, I think, would be better discussed than written about. Could you make it convenient to come and see me some time next week? I shall be available on Monday afternoon, or almost any time on Tuesday.' It is not known whether Orwell accepted Martin's invitation, but he probably did. Orwell's review of Galsworthy's Glimpses and Reflections was published in the New Statesman on 12 March 1938, and he contributed reviews to the journal from July 1940 to August 1943. However, as is recorded in conversation with friends, he never forgave Martin for his 'line' on the Spanish civil war.

  To Cyril Connolly*

  14 March 1938

  The Stores

  Wallington

  Dear Cyril,

  I see from the New Statesman & Nation list that you have a book coming out sometime this spring.1 If you can manage to get a copy sent me I'll review it for the New English, possibly also Time & Tide. I arranged for Warburg to send you a copy of my Spanish book2 (next month) hoping you may be able to review it. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.

  I am writing this in bed. I may not be going to India after all & any way not before the autumn. The doctors don't think I ought to go. I've been spitting blood again, it always turns out to be not serious, but it's alarming when it happens & I am going to a Sanatorium in Kent 3 to be X rayed.deg I've no doubt they'll find as before that I am O.K. but any way it's a good excuse for not going to India, which I never wanted to.4 This bloody mess-up in Europe has got me so that I really can't write anything. I see Gollancz has already put my next novel 5 on his list tho' I haven't written a line or even sketched it out. It seems to me we might as well all pack our bags for the concentration camp. King Farlow* was here the other day & I am going to stay next week-end with him after leaving the Sanatorium. When in town I'll try & look you up. Could you be kind enough to write me a line to 24 Croom's Hill, Greenwich S.E. 10,6 to let me know your telephone address, which of course I've lost again, & then if occasion arises I can ring you up. Please remember me to your wife.

  Yours

  Eric Blair

  [XI, 431, p. 127; handwritten]

  1.Enemies of Promise (see Orwell's letter to Connolly of 14.12.38).

  2.Homage to Catalonia.

  3.Orwell's Preston Hall Sanatorium records show he coughed blood when ill in 1929, 1931, and 1934; that he had pneumonia in 1918, 1921, 1933, and 1934; and dengue fever when in Burma.

  4.Orwell had been invited to write leaders and book reviews, and sub letters for The Pioneer, Lucknow in Pakistan. (See XI, 426, pp. 120-2.) 5.Coming Up for Air. Orwell is not being quite fair here: he had suggested that this be done (see his letter to Leonard Moore, 6 December 1937, XI, 412, pp. 100-1).

  6.Home of Eileen's brother.

  The sequence of events leading to Orwell's admission to Preston Hall Sanatorium is uncertain and complicated by doubts about the dating of Eileen's letter to Jack Common. Orwell's Case Record (found by Michael Shelden) shows that Orwell was admitted to Preston Hall on Tuesday, 15 March, and discharged that same day; and that he was re-admitted on Thursday, 17 March, and remained until 1 September 1938. The records also include an analysis of X-rays of Orwell's lungs dated 16 March. It might reasonably be assumed that he was rushed to the hospital on 15 March; that the heavy bleeding described by Eileen was then stopped, and that X-rays were taken; after these were
examined on the following day, he was admitted for treatment. This involved complete rest, colloidal calcium injections and vitamins A and D until pulmonary tuberculosis could be definitely excluded.

  Preston Hall Sanatorium, Aylesford, Kent, was a mile or two north of Maidstone. It was a British Legion hospital for ex-servicemen (hence the name of Orwell's ward, after the World War I Admiral, Jellicoe). Initially Orwell was given a single room; this aroused comments about preferential treatment, but he insisted on mixing with the others and got on easily with them. (See Crick, 358-60; Shelden, 316-19, and for a fuller note, XI, 432, pp. 127-8.) Eileen Blair* to Jack Common*

  Monday [and Tuesday, 14-15 March 1938]

  24 Croom's Hill

  Greenwich

  Dear Jack,

  You'll probably have heard about the drama of yesterday. I only hope you didn't get soaked to the skin in discovering it.1 The bleeding seemed prepared to go on for ever & on Sunday everyone agreed that Eric must be taken somewhere where really active steps could be taken if necessary--artificial pneumothorax to stop the blood or transfusion to replace it. They got on to a specialist who visits a smallish voluntary hospital near here & who's very good at this kind of thing & he also advised removal, so it happened in an ambulance like a very luxurious bedroom on wheels. The journey had no ill-effects, they found his blood pressure still more or less normal--& they've stopped the bleeding, without the artificial pneumothorax. So it was worth while. Everyone was nervous of being responsible for the immediate risk of the journey, but we supported each other. Eric's a bit depressed about being in an institution devised for murder, but otherwise remarkably well. He needn't stay long they say,2 but the specialist has a sort of hope that he may be able to identify the actual site of haemorrhage and control it for the future.