59.
1925:
Rapid City, Man. October 28,
1925
Dear Phelps,
I am greatly annoyed - yes, at you, too,
for not sending a line. But almost more [at] something else.
Last June Nellie McClung sought my acquaintance,
telling [me] that she had The Turn of the Year always
on her desk, that she [found] it hard to give "nature-setting" and
that probably, when I read [her ne]w book "Painted Fires" (I
had no intention of reading it), I should [see?] that she
had made use of my descriptions. I gave it no further thought.
Well,
she had the assurance to send me the book. (Book? The [enu]meration
of sensational, disconnected, improbable anecdotes) [with
this] inscription:
"To Mr. F.P. Grove
with sincere regard for
his excellent literarily
attainments."
I had forgotten all about her confession
and thought I must read it, so I can say a few polite
words of acknowledgement.
Well, every now and then "Nature is described". It took
me a long while before I caught on. The fact is that she
simply clips passages from The Turn of the Year and twists
their tail. For example, before a storm,
"The trees are standing still, expectantly, as if bracing
themselves" - so far F.P.G.; then Nellie adds - "for something
which they were unable to help."
or, after the storm: "the mist began to
form into wisps and thread that curdled and rose of the" -
here she leaves out the epithet "glassy" - "surface of the
river"
etc. etc. There are hundreds of such passages.
The book bristles with facts: about ¼ of
them refer to things known to me. Every one of these is
wrong. Inference, the rest must be wrong.
Now I have no intention of making a row or even saying a
word about it to anyone. She has simply made "copy" with
my help: a compliment.
But would you violate your own nature to the extent of sending
an acknowledgement of the book to the lady in question? Of
course, if I don't, I make another literary enemy. And it
seems, I am adept at "the gentle art of making enemies?"
Now, break your rule for once of never answering
communications addressed to you, will you? I'll abide by
your decision, being unable to come... (1)
(1)
This is the last word on the page, suggesting that the continuation is mising.
Barely legible in the left margin: "... stand - the top or bottom of a watch-box
will do, address it / ... the other side, write "[?]" "Don't!" That will do."
Written
upside-down above "Dear
Phelps" at
the top of the sheet are the following two notes, each in square parentheses:
[And if you don't like
Our Daily Bread or think it's trash, just say so. It won't
hurt me.]
[I am condensing a short novel into a short
story of which I am excessively proud. I am going to offer
it to Harpers with some magnificent gesture].
