Letters of William Gaddis. William Gaddis

knew about her, but was suddenly surprised when i met her with Bob Ward over at the Lampoon a few evenings ago—and Saturday evening he was with her at the Lampoon dance. and so as the evening wore on and we all wore on i danced with her(!) though you could hardly call it dancing i’m afraid because i spent most of the time standing and looking at her and just being pretty happy about the whole thing. her name—Jean Campbell. she is really awfully nice, but early in the morning (at the moment) i can’t get onto just what i want to say. but she’s going to be up here until october, and i am hoping to be able to get to know her better. i think that spring is on its way!

      i still find it difficult to conceive that another term is ending. probably when exams are done i’ll realize it, and they are quite imminent. except for this girl, things should be easier next term, because so many are leaving, and i suppose a lot of the little temptations will be gone. my class graduates in february, you know. and a number of the little outlets for flings will be carried off. but i do want to see more of Miss Campbell.

      my sophomoric troubles will be done with the twenty fourth, and we come back the sixth of march. do you think that it would help things out if i were to stay up here and get a job for a few days. at this point (and you may say that it is Miss C—if you wish, tho she is only a contributing factor) i want to hold on at hartford college if it can be worked out.

      Love

      Bill

      Jean Campbell: born in Vermont (d. 2001), Campbell graduated from Radcliffe in 1944 and went on to become a writer and Beauty Editor of Seventeen. Not to be confused with a later acquaintance of WG’s, the British heiress and journalist Jeanne Campbell (1928–2007), daughter of the 11th duke of Argyll, and briefly married to Norman Mailer (1962–63).

      To Edith Gaddis

      Adams House B 34

      Cambridge, Massachusetts

      [17 February 1944]

      Dear Mom—

      [...] The Lampoon is printing a story of mine in the next issue and of course I am on top of the world. And incidentally your letter of encouragement helped a lot—I really feel ‘ready’ now! Osbourne seems to like my stuff—in fact I was talking to Mahoney (a very effete artist on our staff), about getting in. He said he’d heard them discussing my stories—and in quite a favorable light too! The point is one must have 4 pages of material accepted—they have taken my stuff, but it’s not really accepted until they really decide to put it in. I may get some credit working on the business board—just to get me on—but you know the literary board is really the right and top side of the ’Poon to be on—so I don’t know how long it will be.

      And say at your first opportunity could you send me that dirty bedraggled copy of the Johnson Smith catalog which is probably on the hayloft bookcase. I want to try a story from those old fashioned amusement books they advertise—a Rediscover the American Home affair. I did write one and Mac told me to take that part and build it up. [...]

      Things are coming along well—so far. I have been giving a good deal of time to the Lampoon, and am beginning to realize what this psychology course is! No kidding—the reading is incredible! Trying to explain and form theories for personality—which I have decided is quite futile. I don’t known why the devil I ever got involved with it.

      But otherwise things are quite grand, tho the heat does discourage sitting down to study for very long at a time. On the whole tho I am afraid I am quite exuberant—the room is fine (tho I can hear it every time someone dives down in the pool, and some fool is learning to play ‘As Time Goes By’ across the court on a trumpet.)

      If it weren’t for the $ end, I was thinking it would be nice if you could come up some weekend—after all I was a green freshman last time you saw the place. The Coop bill may be sizeable this month—books, a pair of pants and shirt etc.—and I don’t know when the $65 from the ‘Poon will be due—

      Well I have 30 lines of Romeo and Juliet to learn for tomorrow.

      Love

      Bill

      story of mine: perhaps “Suffer the Little Children,” which didn’t appear in the next issue (1 April) but the one after that (15 May). Or WG could be referring to one of the short fables he was publishing at the time.

      ‘As Time Goes By’: 1931 song by Herman Hupfeld (1931) popularized in the movie Casablanca (1942).

      To Edith Gaddis

      The Harvard Lampoon, Inc.

      Cambridge 28, Massachusetts

      [27 February 1944]

      Dear Mother—

      Sunday—and the first chance I have had to write—really it has been quite a week!

      Exams all last week of course—only two—but they lasted all week—and after being up for four nights it was quite a feeling Thursday with the ‘press’ lifted and really nothing to worry about.

      The Poon had its final tremendous affair for the season—and really for all time, since so many are leaving. A very pleasant dinner at the Pudding and then the dance—of course I got mixed up and went to a punch and forgot to get my black shoes from the shoemaker whom I’d taken them to be shined—so I ended with tuxedo and those dirty white buckskins.

      Peter Jenks—don’t know whether I’ve mentioned him—he did the drawings for my poem—has left, and everything looks sort of blue—and then that woman being in Florida—if only she might have been up for the Poon dance—because it was the last of the neat ones. [...]

      Everyone it seems is going to New York—all I hear is ‘See you in Larue’ (a 58^th St. spot!) and I’ll probably get pretty fed up with this. I would like to get home before it goes(!)—and if it will be easier for you I certainly think it’s the only thing to do. Perhaps next weekend? I don’t know. I do want to get a pair of shoes—and the ballet is so important—as she is. Don’t know about scholarship—but I might as well get the beneficiary business—and perhaps borrow something from them. Will write again when I get a little further with $ matters. [...]

      Love

      Bill

      Peter Jenks [...] my poem: Jenks illustrated WG’s poem beginning “Once came upon a quiet college town” in the 11 February issue of the Lampoon.

      this job: WG had just picked up a part-time job “taking attendance.”

      Larue: one of the most fashionable restaurants of the time.

      To Edith Gaddis

      Cambridge, Massachusetts

      [5 April 1944]

      dear Mother

      well it never seems to end. it is just like being seasick. after one bit of running excitement you don’t see how it can keep on, but it does. [...] this elementary spanish is insidious; the abnormal psyc is good but a great amount of reading which as yet remains only touched, and an exam imminent; the social psyc is terrible—can you imagine, it seems to be a never ending discussion on politics, for which i see no reason and am beginning to dislike cordially. the short story course is the only thing that seems to be going evenly, but the fool wants the long (5000 word) story in about two weeks, right when