So I Have Thought of You: The Letters of Penelope Fitzgerald. Penelope Fitzgerald

plastic flowers for idols, but they’re bright and lovely.

      Angie wrote that she went to help the nuns lay out her grandmother who died recently – as it would be useful practice – I suppose it is – more strangely, she suggests that Miss Walker is a bit of a Lesbian and was quite angry when Angie got engaged – which I think quite ridiculous – being educated in a convent evidently doesn’t exclude these fantasies – I’ll be glad when they’re both safely married and settled.

      Lovely fine weather here and we went to the Barbara Hepworth exhibition and ate sandwiches on the steps of the Tate. Still tearful after seeing Luther King funeral on TV. It was so cosy – they didn’t care a bit that it was a muddle.

      Reading book on American poetry – have learnt that 1. T. S. Eliot first learnt to love poetry from Omar Khayyam – Funny you gave me both. 2. The planters in the Southern states took the names of their estates and their whole code of honour and genteel manners from Scott’s novels! This interested me a lot. No room left – will write again XXX Mum

      

       185 Poynders Gardens

       London, sw4

      13 April [1968]

      Dearest Tina,

      Thankyou so much for nice postcards, and we were glad you now seem to have respectable escort, and seem cheerier, though exhausted. I wonder what time the meals are? (Maria tells me dinner at 10).

      Valpy went off gaily in the end, though much confusion over various letters, contracts &c. I think he’ll accept the Economic Unit: I do hope so, as I’m sure it would suit him, with so many different assignments. The Japanese girl is returning to Japan, so I think the development of property in Oxford won’t come off.

      Maria and I have been having a good weep at Dr Zhivago, or rather I would have cried if I’d been able to bear Julie Christie seen through a blue filter: but I loved all the snow and the trains and Tom Courtenay’s tin spectacles. Now we’re sitting by the fire (still cold though very sunny) and sewing – Daddy is at the launderette you’ll be surprised to hear! Wish we were in blazing Spanish sunshine like you and very glad you’re going to Valladolid as all the best images are there. Longing to hear about gay time, and bull-fight.

      Maria has much depressed me by 1. Looking at Daddy and me and saying: ‘What a funny old couple you are!’ and 2. Telling me that studying art and literature is only a personal indulgence and doesn’t really help humanity or lead to anything, and, I suppose, really, that is quite true: she said it very kindly. My life seemed to be crumbling into dust.

      Valpy and I went to the 8 o’clock mass on Maundy Thursday. Father Sammons got terribly out of hand with numerous processions and clouds of incense and many respectable men in blue suits and red sashes worn crossways. We finally left as I was getting worried about Ria while yet another elaborate procession was getting tangled up in the aisles.

      Must finish making my nightie – in rather low spirits – much love Mum

      

      Glad it’s not turning out too badly XX

      

       185 Poynders Gardens, sw4

      12 October [1968]

      Dearest Tina,

      Just a note – to say we are missing you very much, but this is not really what I meant to say – I am here all by myself watching the Olympic opening, for Daddy is at the launderette and Maria has gone out to a gay dance, carelessly tossing aside another missive from Pope, containing a smiling photograph of the three brothers, heavily hair-creamed. She took Daddy to have the first fitting of his suit this afternoon, but the fly-buttons were not on straight, however it’s to be finished properly in 3 weeks. Outside it is very wet and windy and the laundry is flapping against your window.

      Valpy and Angie are coming to lunch tomorrow, I must keep off controversial subjects and be sensible, and try and get some wine, for there’s none in the house. – My new bun-cosy is not quite the right shade of red – just off – so I’ve tried to dye it a little more crimson, and it too is flapping in the wind.

      Very great difficulty in changing the ribbon of the typewriter – I don’t think it’s right yet. The booklet says, in four languages, that it’s a very simple operation.

      I did so wish I could have come up on Thursday – Maria says your room^* is in the front quad, which is nice, surely, handy for people to drop in? and that though small dark and smelly, as you predicted, it is also cosy and began to look really homely after you’d put out your things, and she says you’d like blue curtains, so I’ll go up to the dreaded Oxford St. next Thursday and try and get the right colour. Did you mean to leave your Swiss cow behind? Well, you’ve had to settle in to a lot of very odd places, and are pretty expert by this time. I wonder what the Linguists’ coffee party was like?

      I went up to the paper shop where I was received with pathetic enthusiasm by the manager, and changed the Sunday Express to the Sunday Times, but I don’t expect he’ll remember.

      Must now turn to tattered essays and hysterical postcards sent by my candidates. Aren’t you sorry for them? At least you won’t have to do that again!

      Daddy back from launderette, it seems some boys came with their washing at 10 and when they weren’t allowed in they smashed the windows with a tin and had to be taken away by the police! I wonder how you’re managing with your washing, and indeed with everything – so much love dear old mum.

      

       185 Poynders G[ardens]

       London, sw4

      11 November [1968]

      Dearest Tina,

      To start with, and before I forget, here are ‘A Room of One’s Own’ – which was in your room, and your New Poetry, which I regret, wasn’t – and the ‘Sunday Times’ cutting about Yevtushenko, which you’ll have seen of course, but I thought you might like for your ‘memory lane’ book.

      Thankyou so much for a very nice Saturday – a real break for me, and it was lovely to see you and very kind of you and your friends to take me for granted, so to speak. But I can’t help being very angry with your French tutor – very angry. It just seems to be not only mistaken but quite irresponsible for tutors (or even VI form teachers) to be unfair, unpleasant or bullying – it doesn’t matter if they’re stuffy, old-fashioned or ridiculous, but surely it should be a kind of partnership to study the language – to make anyone you’re teaching feel unhappy means you can’t teach them anyway – if things aren’t right you could always talk to them privately – but she really is lucky to have you to teach, as you’re perfectly ready to do the work – I suppose she’s a ‘sick woman’, like Miss James, but it’s too bad, the French system is impossible, and I see the lycéens refuse to accept even the new reforms and the lycées are in chaos and I’m not surprised I imagine Milène alone in a grey classroom trying to write her entrée en matière as usual. I’m so glad that you are now to have a rest and 4 weeks Spanish.

      I’m sorry that the poor English school is so dull too – the truth is, though I would never dare saying it in public, that the value of studying literature only really appears as you go on living, and find how it really is like life – that it all works – and it’s a pity this can’t somehow be shown in the course, except I suppose in Marxist Free Universities.

      I’d love to know how your poetry circle party went. Seeing so many bookshops has, actually, gone to my head a bit, and it’s a good thing I have a long staff meeting, on Monday.

      Daddy says they’ve managed to transfer nearly all the Poly Lunn customers onto other airlines, but of course the ‘Turkish all-in holiday’ has to be cancelled – all the exciting ones really – they have to cut back – I do so wish we’d gone last year, but the wedding made it impossible. I suppose I shall never see Constantinople (as I choose to call