Letters of William Gaddis. William Gaddis

      Walker Evans: American photographer (1903–75), who WG later said was the physical model for Wyatt in R.

      about 6$: about $57.00; in 1949, $1 had the buying power of $9.50 today.

      Life is very long: a phrase from part 5 of Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” (1925) that WG will quote occasionally.

      Mrs Damon [...] Berlin’s First Congregational: in R, the organist of the First Congregational Church is named “Miss Ardythe, who had attacked the organ regularly since a defrauding of her maidenhead at the turn of the century” (14).

      mortal coil: a phrase from Hamlet (3.1.69; “coil” meaning “turmoil”).

      Stella & Bill: unidentified.

      Miss Parke & Mr Waugh: presumably a friend of WG’s who visited Waugh (who was in NYC in December 1948) and told him of WG’s work in progress.

      story [...] Costa Rica piece: in the summer of 1947 WG wrote an account of the Costa Rican revolution entitled “Cartago: Sobró con Quien” and a short story entitled “A Father Is Arrested,” posthumously published in the Missouri Review 27.2 (November 2004): 109–16.

      South Wind : a hedonistic novel (1917) by British novelist Norman Douglas (1868–1952), set on the Capri-like island of Nepenthe.

      Miss Williams: Margaret Williams (1924–2004). In a 1993 interview with Charles Monaghan, WG’s old friend Ormonde de Kay said of her: “Margaret Williams was a really live-wire, wonderful, very pretty American girl, very bright, who is now married to Bob Ginna, who used to be editor-in-chief, I think, of Little, Brown for a while, and is now sort of a freelance. Lives in Jaffrey, New Hampshire. And she does, too. Margaret was his [Gaddis’s] great love, at that time anyway” (http://www.williamgaddis.org/reminisce/remdekaymonaghan.shtml). A graduate of Vassar, she worked in journalism and book publishing as well.

      Emmet Fox: (1886–1951), Irish-born American spiritual leader and self-help author.

      “that Taoist art [...] forgetting’”: from p. 79 of More Trivia (Harcourt Brace, 1921), a short book of aphoristic observations by the American-born English essayist Logan Pearsall Smith (1865– 1946). Quoted in R (925).

      Janice’s: one of WG’s aunts.

      To Edith Gaddis

      Madrid

      [January 1949]

      dear Mother.

      [...] It is strange; but thank heavens, every day I am more glad to have come here. Still at logger-heads with the language, but can carry on a fair conversation now (though still trouble because I don’t know too many words) and struggling through some reading; besides working on the same ideas that have preöccupied me for the last 2years. And walking until now I have stopped for a while since the feet are temporarily collapsed. More trips to the Museo del Prado, where the paintings never cease to be exciting—my new inspiration, tutelary genius &c being Heironymus Bosch (I think orig. Flemish) whom you may see at the Met. too (they have 2 of his paintings) if you want some idea of the strange lands my mind is wandering now. I have bought a fine book on him, splendid reproductions & not too difficult Spanish.

      Your 2 letters with enclosures recieved; & herewith I return in kind—the photo is Escorial where I passed Christmas day; the other a concert last Sunday morning, they have them here from 11:30 to 1:30 which is splendid (camara means chamber), the Bach & Haydn wonderful (and your comment anent the Schönberg arrangement of Bach Chorale Preludes NOT appreciated here, really what is more magnificent music? Eh bien. But the case of Antheil is an interesting one, he was very brilliant in youth, great friend of Ezra Pound, wrote a thing (Ballet Mechanique) scored for a dozen or so pianos & aeroplane propellors, very exciting; but then seems to have let down, not fulfilled his great promise (except perhaps to avant-guard & intelligent musicians who ‘understand’ him, but not (including myself) for the multitude.) For the other enclosures, safely got & thanks; next time, will you please send two cashierchecks. Just now I am involved in matters with the Spanish Police, getting or trying to get a two-year resident visa (does that sound alarming) and with my linguistic equipment you may imagine there are some highly entertaining (to a disinterested observer) frustrations. We usually end up shaking hands and saying it is cold in Madrid, which everybody understands.

      Of course there is always more to say, to write; a few nights ago a juerga (pron. wher′ -ga) which is half or a dozen people sitting all night in a small room while one plays guitar, one sings flamenco (the most beautiful wailing songs, of sadness & violence, gypsys, one ending sangre negra en mi corazon: black blood in my heart. Well, Spain. It is all splendid, but better promises ever to be more so. (& I must add, I bought that walking-stick.) And love to you,

      W.

      Heironymus Bosch: Hieronymus, Dutch painter (1450?–1516). WG was particularly taken by his tabletop painting The Seven Deadly Sins, which plays a major role in R.

      Schönberg: the Austrian-born composer Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951) published these orchestral arrangements in 1922.

      Antheil: American composer George Antheil (1900–59). His Ballet Mécanique dates from 1924, and makes prominent use of the player piano.

      juerga: Stephan (Wyatt) presides at a juerga on p. 802 of R.

      sangre negra [...] my heart: Wyatt hears a flamenco singer utter this line on p. 110 of R.

      To Edith Gaddis

      Madrid

      24 January 49

      dear Mother.

      This being not a letter but the usual perennial request for things. Some of which may sound rather odd.

      I First, books. If you could get these, & send them air-express, that is apparently the only satisfactory way. & marked GIFT very plainly.

      1. The White Goddess, by Robert Graves.

      2. [Crossed out:] The Golden Bough, by —Frazer (Brentano had this in a good reprint for under 3$; if that is available; certainly don’t break your neck to get it, & if that reprint isn’t at hand it will be hard. [Handwritten: No—see below.] The Frazer book is too big. But could you do this: borrow your friend’s copy; turn to page 569—and from there copy what it says about a tribe that rids itself of evil spirits by driving them into a monkey, which is then put to death.

      3. (Here is a horrible admission: ) Hugo’s Simplified Spanish.

      You understand, these are just books I very much want but will live without; only if you can do it quietly & conveniently.

      II Could you find this information (I think by calling the Mus of Natural History, they are very good about such:) On the Barbary ape (formerly native of Gibraltar)—its approximate size (male); colouring; how it survives captivity; usual longevity; diet in captivity; is it tail-less?; fierce? extinct (if so when); & any distinctive peculiarities. & also what sounds it makes (alone, in captivity).

      Thank you very much. Good luck. &c.

      And then, when may expect, being a remittance-man, the remittance? I count hopefully on the 10th, as last mo. Money is a problem. Life is very long.

      A good letter from Barney, who has recently had clothing & typewriter stolen; good letter from Bernie, who is working with displaced persons, quite low about the whole picture; good letter from Juancho, who tells me to get out of Madrid; good letter from Jake.

      Insane letter from Miss Williams. Did you lunch? Isn’t she attractive. Nice. Rather dissociated, as it were.