The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume I
Thursday — October 11, 1917 —
It is a cold, sharp day. I can see the sun flying in the sky like a faint far-away flag. My Japanese doll has gone into boots for the winter and the studio smells of quinces. I have to write all day with my feet in the fringe of the fire—and oh alas! it is sad to think that I shall be warm in front and cold behind from now until next June.
1 See Prelude, p. 49.
Brett (switching off the instrument): “Katherine I beg of you to stop. You must tell us all about it at the Brotherhood Church one Sunday evening.”
K.: “Forgive me, but that is why I believe in technique, too. (You asked me if I did.) I do just because I don't see how art is going to make that divine spring into the bounding outline of things if it hasn't passed through the process of trying to become these things before recreating them.”
I have left your letter unanswered for more days than I could have wished. But don't think it was just because I am so careless and faithless. No, really not. I enjoyed keeping silent with the letter just as one enjoys walking about in silence with another until the moment comes when one turns and puts out a hand and speaks.
I threw my darling to the Wolves 1 and they ate it and served me up so much praise in such a golden bowl that I couldn't help feeling gratified. I did not think they would like it at all and I am still astounded that they do.
1 Prelude was one of the first publications of Mr. and Mr. Woolf at the Hogarth Press.
2 See At the Bay.
But the unpardonable unspeakable thrill of this art business. What is there to compare! And what more can we desire? It's not a case of keeping the home fire burning for me. It's a case of keeping the home fire down to a respectable blaze, and little enough. If you don't come and see me soon there'll be nothing but a little heap of ashes and two crossed pons upon it.
Are you coming to London soon? Let me know—let us meet. I shall see you float across my window upon a chariot of bright umbrellas?…. Venus laughing from the Skies….
Isn't it a beautiful title, when all is said and done…. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
It's all too wonderful.