“She’s beautiful!” he agreed, thoughtfully. Then he sighed and said, “If I cure Lisette, she’s yours.” We went away with our empty napkin.
The next day they telephoned, and I informed the children that Lisette had died. The younger one asked me, “Do you think she died wearing her earrings?” I said yes. A week later the older one told me, “You look so much like Lisette!”
I replied, “I like you, too.”
CORRESPONDENCE WITH ANNE STEVENSON, 1963–1965
Caixa Postal 279, Petrópolis
Estado do Rio de Janeiro, Brasil
January 22nd, 1963
Dear Mrs. Stevenson:
I have just received a letter from Marianne Moore in which she says that you would like some information about me for the “Twayne Publishers Author Series…” I can’t seem to remember what this is, although I probably should know — will you tell me something about it? She quotes you to the effect that I “despise professionalized criticism”. But I don’t think I do, and I wonder where that idea came from? (Unless “professionalized” means something very bad!) Anyway — if I can be of any help, I’ll be glad to. Sometimes letters take a long time; sometimes only four or five days—
Sincerely yours,
Elizabeth Bishop
Caixa Postal 279, Petrópolis
Estado do Rio de Janeiro, Brasil
March 18th, 1963
Dear Mrs. Elvin:
After reassuring you about the comparative speed of the mails here, of course I happenned to be away “in the interior” as they say — on the coast, actually — for a long stay over Carnival, where I can get no mail. I shall get off just a note to you today to tell you I did get your letter, and a second installment will be along this week.
Thank you for sending me the Twayne’s U S Author Series rules & regulations. I am enlightened, but not very much! I wonder who is the editor of the contemporary poets, what other poets are being written, up, etc? Do you think that Mrs. Bowman would be good enough to send me one or two of the books already published? Please don’t think I am interfering or am going to be difficult — but I am naturally curious.
I’d like to read your analyses of my poems very much. Are you intending to publish something in a magazine, perhaps, before the book appears?
In any case — I have another book ready—20–25 poems, some of which you may have seen in magazines — and I think you should have a copy of this as soon as possible. The title is QUESTIONS OF TRAVEL, from one of the poems, and if all goes well Farrar, Straus & Cudahy shd. be publishing it this year. I’ll write and have them send you a copy — unless I can find a complete MMS here this week. I think if you write to Farrar, Straus, & Cudahy they will surely send you a free copy of THE DIARY OF HELENA MORLEY (Minha Vida de Menina), the Brazilian book I translated a few years ago. (I’ll write my agent* about the poems and mention this, too) The English title was against my wishes — very poor, I think; the best review I saw was Pritchett’s in The New Statesman & Nation. My introduction might be of some interest to you, as a critic — the diary perhaps only as the mother of a daughter!
The biographical note in Who’s Who is correct — or was, the last time I saw it. I never lived in Worcester, however — I left before I was a year old and spent only a few months there when I was 6–7, with my father’s parents. The rest of my childhood I spent with my mother’s parents in Nova Scotia — mostly long summers, although I started school there — and with a devoted aunt, in or near Boston, until I went away to school at 16. I also went to summer camp on Cape Cod for 6 summers. I’ve never lived in Newfoundland — I took a walking trip there one summer when I was at Vassar. Since Vassar I’ve lived in New York, Paris, Key West, Mexico, etc. — mostly New York, and Key West until about 1948.—Then since late 1951 Brazil — with several trips back, of course, one of 8 months or so. I was very much amused by the clipping from the Worcester paper … (I’ve also read 2 or 3 times that I was born in Maine, or lived there — I can’t imagine where that came from. I’ve stayed various times on Deer Isle (or is it Island?) visited Robert Lowell in Castine, etc. — that’s all.) I have two published autobiographical stories, GWENDOLYN, & IN THE VILLAGE. This last is in the recent New Yorker anthology — and sticks to the facts — compresses the time a bit. Robert Lowell compressed it even more, recently, into a very short poem that was in Kenyon Review, called “The Scream”. I could give you a great deal more information if you want it! — However, for your purposes it may not be necessary. I am 3/4ths Canadian, and one 4th New Englander — I had ancestors on both sides in the Revolutionary war. My maternal grandparents were, some of them, Tories, who left upper N. Y. State and were given land grants in Nova Scotia by George III. One of my great grandfathers was an owner-captain of a ship — bark, I think — and was lost at sea off Sable Island in a famous storm when 40 or so ships went down. (I have also been to Sable Island, via the Canadian Lighthouse Service) That line of my family seems to have been fond of wandering like myself — two, perhaps three, of the sea-captain’s sons, my great uncles, were Baptist missionaries in India.
You are right about my admiring Klee very much — but as it happens, THE MONUMENT was written more under the influence of a set of frottages by Max Ernst I used to own, called Histoire Naturel. I am passionately (I think I might say) fond of painting; in fact I’d much rather talk about painting than poetry, as a rule. I am equally fond of music — although I am rather behind with that, living in Brazil. Next time round I’d like to be a painter — or a composer — or a doctor — I seriously considered studying medicine for several years and still wish I had. I am also very much interested in architecture and helped translate a huge tome on contemporary Brazilian architecture a few years ago.
I want to get this in the mail so I must get to Petropolis quickly — I live about 8 miles outside the town, although at present I divide my time about equally between here and Rio—50 miles away. While I am here this week I’ll write you another note — I’ll answer your questions about whens and wheres — although I don’t believe there are any rules about the place—poems — after, during, or before — And I’ll certainly try to get off the other book to you in MMS — or see that you get a copy—
I do want to see your analyses — but I believe that everyone has the right to interpret exactly as they see fit, of course, so as I said, please do not think I shall be “interfering.” My only request of that sort may be quite unecessary — It is just that I am rather weary of always being compared to, or coupled with, Marianne — and I think she is utterly weary of it, too! We have been very good friends for thirty years now — but except for 1 or 2 early poems of mine and perhaps some early preferences in subject matter, neither she nor I can see why reviewers always drag her in with me. For one thing — I’ve always been an umpty-umpty poet with a traditional “ear.” Perhaps it is just another proof that
I hope your little girl is better and I am extremely sorry to hear of the death of your mother. I believe you teach, don’t you? I wonder what and where? I’ll write again in a few days—