Collected Letters Volume Two: Books, Broadcasts and War, 1931–1949. Walter Hooper. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Walter Hooper
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Биографии и Мемуары
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007332663
Скачать книгу
hope to collect these and publish them: I shall call it a ‘Realistic’ theory of literature, explaining of course that I mean the word in the sense of Plato not of Zola. I wish I knew how many of us there are. Sometimes I suspect that we are more numerous than each of [us] supposes, and that if we can only get together we may blow the whole composite fog (French Symbolism cum Croce cum Eliot with, oddly enough Karl Marx and Neo-Scholasticism somewhere in the background) away by 1950.

      Yours sincerely

      C. S. Lewis

       TO OWEN BARFIELD (W):

      [The Kilns]

      April 5th 1935

      Where reservoys ripple And sun-shadows stipple The beard of the corn. We’ll meet and we’ll kipple We’ll camp and then kipple At Rudyard we’ll kipple From evening to morn.

      Can it really come off?

      Yrs

      C. S. Lewis

       TO ARTHUR GREEVES (W):

      The Kilns,

      Headington Quarry,

      Oxford.

      April 23d 1935

      My dear Arthur

      Give my love to your mother and any other of my friends whom you may meet: and let me have an answer as soon as possible to my question.

      Yours

      Jack

      Magdalen College,

      Oxford.

      April 28th 1935

      My dear Baker

      I was very distressed on meeting Barfield this year for a walk (a ghost of its old self for he and I were the only participants) to hear of your illness. It stimulated an impulse that has been hovering in my mind for some time to write to you and to try and pick up some of the old links. That they were ever dropped was, I imagine, chiefly my fault-at least even self-love on my part cannot find any substantial respect in which it could have been yours. Will you forgive me? I think I have learned a little since those days and can promise not to serve you so again.

      You must not bother yourself with letter writing while you are unwell, nor need you: for I trust that any news of your state will trickle to me in the end by one channel or another. The last I heard from Barfield was a little more encouraging. Beyond wishing you well, I cannot enlarge on the subject: almost anything said from a well man to a sick man seems an impertinence.

      My father is dead and my brother has retired from the army and now lives with us. I have deep regrets about all my relations with my father (but thank God they were best at the end). I am going bald. I am a Christian. Professionally I am chiefly a medievalist. I think that is all my news up to date.