Justin says he is going to write to you & I know he will;
so I don’t xxxxx a letter from you killing two birds with one
stone. Let me know how things went with the school, and
getting a room. I’ll write you a better letter from Rome,
Cooler, Man!
Molos, Skyros, 11th Aug.
Dear Simon,
You’ve been gone two days & ofcourse you know you are missed – terribly. The day after you left, yesterday, a series of quite momentous events occurred. Imagine a very depressed house & by some undiscussed tacit arrangement no one discussed you, or mentioned your name. Well. Very quiet. We then discovered that Nico (2.) killed every one of Lisa’s puppies, not leaving her with even one, for her milk. So, in addition to our gloom, we had the pathetic sight of Lisa going from room to room, looking for her children. Not very cheering? She even followed us to Kokalenia’s (3.) that night – just in the hope -. Then: my watch stopped, & will not go. (4.) Then; Koudouri (5.) had a monstrous battle with a french poodle – and lost – so he is no longer King of the Island & looks most dejected – face all bitten and can’t see clearly.
Then: we learnt that two hundred (200) Athenians arrived, & by the look of the beach I believe they are precisely all those lovely girls we saw on the boat to Hydra.
Then; the taxi driver’s wife descended on Kyrie Hara’s landlady & there was a terrible scene which has driven, (strangely enough), Kyrias Hara to the bottle & she sits there dejectedly saying quite innocently ”Just tell me; why do they attack me?
Then; (the only cheering news): THE CHAIRS FROM VOLOS ARRIVED
Shall write some more in a few days’time./
By the way, please send a card to Kakalenia and Theodore – they seemed quite hurt you didn’t say goodbye to them, put it in English & Sylvia (6.) will translate if your Greek has gone./
12th Aug Today you are in Napoli. It is still so awful; when we make tea at four, neither Just nor I can say ”C.U.N.T is ready” we just say quietly ”The tea’s ready”. (7)
Over the years, (at very great expenses) I have had built into my system an elaborate warning device, a mechanism of bells, red lights, buzzars &safty xxxxx. When I met you there was a cacophony of bells, buzzing red lights & so on & every protective shield went into immediate action. Even in Athens I would not give in, & when I did, it was too late. My new treatment for the malaise is to have all the worst photographs of you in a neat little heap & I look at the hideous array now & then. With my gift for photography, you must agree that in some of them you look positively macabre. (I shall let you know if this does any good.) But please don’t blame me for having acted strangely to you, it was only the will to survive. But how could I hold out against such a regiment of intelligence, wisdom, kindness and beauty?
Hope you are not hating Italy – circumstanced as you are, & no money, I should think it would be vile. (8)
Thursday 13th The big news today is a postcard from Athens, someone called xxxxx, we’ll work it all out eventually. I wonder where they got the money from all that gin & whiskey – I fear the worst, or best, a new friend? Nico murdered the puppies very early in the morning before we woke. Letter from my solicitor saying things look ”very hopeful”, so it looks as though, (if required!) I’ll be able to keep you in some little style. (That was for laughts). Letter for Justin from [Graham (Einstein) Roberts), from Venice again, & again beginning with ”Well here I am …..” He is due here, (because Justin failed to write) in 3 days. He makes Charlie Blumenthal seem like Cocteau by comparison and he’s NOT coming to this house. You are in Rome today. You know those little beads the Turks play with? Well, I have a plaything; it is, that you ring Mic and he helps you back to Athenes, & I drive down to the Xenias Melaxxxx where you’ll be waiting. Letter from Gosse – he xxxxx Tuesday, & writes ”please reserve Mitzxx for Tuesday night”. Love will find a way. Ofcourse. I knew you wouldn’t be able to buy the record! Thats why I said let me know. Shall send it from Rome if I can get it.
Friday 14th You are now heading for the Arctic Circle. Further work & research on the postcard has broght more words to light, and now the general school of thought is that ”whiskey gin” etc is meant ironically. My poor one, what courage you must have! Haru (?) has lent me The Black Book of Durrell, his first, & I detest (detect) – self conscious, that deliberate ’poetic’ writing, but if you put words like fuck shit & cunt in, then it’s also ’masculine’ & ’modern’. A melange of naked influences TS Eliot (from the Rimbaud friend) Henry Miller, Gertrude Stein. Ofcourse the highbrows of that type who consider poetry a xxtalisation of though say Durrell should have been a poet. Well, the formlessness of the Black Book must be deliberate, he was at the cross-roads, & I’m glad he chose to xxxxx (construct?) novels later. Am now reading ’Under the Volcano’ by Malcolm Lowry and it really is good.
Yesterday finished the second Piraeus oil, the woman is now looking over her shoulder at you, a very nasty face it is too. Agzy. Today shall work on the one you posed for, the Lecce one./ Your presence here was a very great inspiration to me; for that I can never thank you enough. Being with you made me feel tremendosly alive, & sharpened the
San Cataldo San Cataldo II
senses. A slight healty intoxication which is very good for the artist. And while the xxxx of thanks are being issued, thankyou for that memorable time in Athens – probably one of the happiest times in my life. The whole think is so unfair for you, because I had constantly before me the most splendid vision, whereas you had me to look at. Not very nice?
Shall be waiting xxxxxx to know what you thought of Italy – but under your very trying conditions I dont see how you can judge it properly./ Lookin at bad photographs has a worse effect than anticipated – it boomerangs back. The reasoing goes thus:”Jeffrey how could you love such a ridiculously looking person?” Alors: ”Perhaps he could love me”. So we don’t like that do we? because it would be better to be without hope, more peaceful. Then I wonder if there is any use in writing to you at all. I’ll stop this dreadful letter which in patches must have irritated you profoundly. We leave here on the 23rd. Justin sends muc love as I do; you know I want you for my Monday-to-Sunday-Darling. Jeff.