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The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume II

November 4, 1920

To Sydney Schiff

Yes, there are weak spots in A Gift from the Dusk but compared to the unworthy, stupefying, untruthful rubbish of to-day it did not do, I felt, to comment on them. The worst of it is, nowadays, that the majority of novels are so bad one becomes almost fearful of the strength of one's feeling for a ‘good’ one. There were touches in that book that moved me tremendously. I felt that in the intimacy between Stephen and Mary—Prowse was, many times, speaking a language which I long in vain to hear spoken. The intimacy of two beings who are essential to each other—who is going to write that? And yet Love that is less than that—one wearies of hearing of it.

I wish there were six or seven writers who wrote for themselves and let the world go hang. But where are they?