34. 1925:
Rapid City, Man. January 11, 1925
Dear Phelps,
I received your note last night just after my letter had
been posted.
Well, yes, that will be all right. Keep
me posted, please, as to Pierce's coming. I take it that
the arrangement is for Feb. 9, well and good. If he should
come sooner, I'll meet him in Winnipeg or wherever it is
convenient for him. If then I come to some definite arrangement
with him or, before that, with Boni and Liveright - the two
would not necessarily exclude each other, I suppose? - well
and good. If not, I shall stay over in the city for a day
or two and make all arrangements for printing myself.
I have, therefore, made up my mind to suspend all other
work for the time being and to devote myself exclusively
to the most painstaking refilling of this novel: a piece
of work for which I need the stimulus of some definite prospect.
If, in this, you could assist me to the extent of letting
me in on some of those objections which you have frequently
hinted at, I'd be glad. I make no secret of the fact that
no language is any longer my native language. Yet, I believe,
of all languages in which I can express myself I express
myself best in English now. In fact, when I look over what
utterances about my previous work have come to my notice,
I find that people seem to be most attracted to my work by
the very style. But you insist that my English is the English
of a foreigner - in your Foreword; in your letter to Pierce.
It may be that what you have in mind consists of minor flaws;
still, if even minor flaws can be removed, all the better.
By the way, it does not seem that Pierce
wishes to read, does it? He could have a manuscript - the
one the Associated Readers had. It is the only one I have
now; and, since I have made up my mind to read to the C.A.A.
from it - not
to mix their drinks, as Wade said - I should have to have
it back by then.
As soon as I am able to work again, which
will be, I hope, within a week or so, I am going to reread,
incidentally, preparatory to its preparation for wider reading,
by others, a penciled novel of the prairie hills which, I
believe, is fully as strong as the White Range Line House which
has occupied me too exclusively during the few last years,
by the mere accident of Mrs. Grove's predilection for the
story of that frightful marriage.
I am glad to say that I feel considerably better to-day,
though exceedingly weak. The fever of the last week has left
me pretty well exhausted: for three or four days I was continually
on the verge of pneumonia. I have had pneumonia twice: it
nearly killed me the second time: I am sure the third time
there would be but one end to it.
Well, so much.
Yours,
F.P.G.
