Meanwhile, we’re happy with this house, the oldest one in St Cloud, run-down though it is. It is owned by two maiden ladies who let us live here rent-free. We keep it up, heated, lighted. But when I leave the house — there’s quite a library upstairs — or turn on the radio, I don’t think I’m long for this world, Jack. Sometimes I think I should maybe give up entirely and install television. In Ireland a voice seems to be calling, though, and I think I should prepare myself to answer it ultimately. But how to live? I’ve thought on historical novels, but there’s nothing in my pedigree or early form to indicate I can go the distance, writing them; I can’t even read them. Sexy novels? What then would happen to this reputation I’ve built up over the years as America’s cleanest Lay Author — I wish somebody would do an article which would bring out that aspect of my work. You just may be the one, Jack, with your feeling for tracts, the eternal virtues so often sneered at in our modern day. Best to you and yours.
Jim
HARVEY EGAN
April 14, 1954
Dear Fr Egan,
[…] Nothing happens here. Well, two visitors. Ammon Hennacy2 a couple of weeks ago, and Sean O’Faolain (with George) last weekend. Ammon was interesting, I thought, and more impressive than I expected him to be. He reminded me of Fr Roy,3 his concern with sound doctrine (sound or not) and always counting the numbers who heard him and appeared to be very interested. He had a big meeting — Mary Humphrey’s word for it — at St John’s, thanks to Fr Emeric,4 I think, who has an idea of a university. Sean was here overnight, with George, and we had a good night of it, and a day among friends here, on the run: Doyles, Hyneses, St John’s. George brought Sean to Newman,5 you know, and next in line are Fr Hughes (the historian)6 and Fr John Courtney Murray.7 It seems to me Newman, under Fr Cowley8 and George, is doing more, is doing more to bring in worthwhile people than any of the colleges hereabouts. You know the creeps and Swiss bell ringers the Catholic colleges get. […]
Take it easy.
Jim
15. I had a very fine time — laughing as I hadn’t in years, April 23, 1954–July 14, 1954
Theodore Roethke, Yaddo, 1947
Jim accepted an invitation to travel to the West Coast to speak at the University of Washington, the University of Oregon, and Reed College in Portland. He chose the topic “reality in fiction.” (“The writer lowers himself into the pit of his experience and imagination, and for a time all is black and hopeless. Then the lines suggest themselves, just a little of themselves showing.”) “For this I’m getting $1,500,” he told Father Egan, “but I continue to doubt that it’s enough.” During the six-week trip he visited Theodore Roethke in Seattle and also traveled to Victoria, British Columbia; San Francisco; Fresno, where he saw Ted LeBerthon; Los Angeles; and finally Albuquerque to see his family.
BETTY, KATHERINE, MARY, AND BOZ POWERS
Hotel Edmond Meany
University District
Seattle 5
April 23, 1954
Dear Betty, Girls, and Boy,
[…] Seattle and the country around here remind me of nowhere else I’ve been. It is the sea, I guess, which makes for all flowers, vines, blooming trees. The grass is green as in Ireland. The homes, though this is a smaller place than Mpls, seem much better, and there seem to be more of them. It must be the sea. The sky has clouds; the green has depth. It is close to heaven, the look and feel of it, and I regret some that I wasn’t born here. Then, despite all the rawness of buildings and signs and streets — what you see everywhere, in every city — it might be a place to think of as home. I read one perfectly wonderful story while here and am asking the author — a doctor’s wife — to send it to Henry. I think she might very well be a real writer. I see The Captain’s Paradise is down the street and may go to it tonight. […] Love to you.
Jim
BETTY POWERS
Aboard Princess Marguerite1
Sunday, 10:00 a.m. [April 25, 1954]
Dear Betty,
I am sitting in a smaller, grubbier version of the lounge of the America. I am surrounded by my compatriots — playing cards, reading the Sunday papers, sleeping upright. […] I can’t remember seeing so many bad neckties in the past. I had thought the worst was over, but the science and industry patterns are very evident here. Out on the deck looking at the water, it’s easy to recall Ireland. […]
I got up at 6:30 this morning. I had dinner and quite a bit to drink at Ted’s2 place last night. I was drinking Jameson’s since he got it in for me (as I got it for Sean). His wife, Beatrice, cooked a very fine meal. Steak — the best I’ve ever tasted. It was very thick, but the steak sauce (Ted’s) is what made it. Beatrice had a sauce on asparagus that was very good — what asparagus needs to offset its wateriness. It is made out of ham fat or drippings. I had a very fine time — laughing as I hadn’t in years. […]
Much love,
James
Jim
DA
Buckeye
BETTY POWERS
Portland, Oregon
Sunday night, May 2, 1954
Dear Betty,
[…] The Pacific was really beautiful. I expected it to be inferior somehow. But the rocky coast reminded me of Ireland as you first (and last) see it. We saw the sea lions — at some distance and with a wind blowing, and still they stank like dogs — at 200 yards. I want to read about them sometime. They live 40–60 years. Most of them appear to be asleep, but there is a honking clamor just the same. Their only enemy — said a sign — is the killer whale. […]
I was happy to hear that your father has turned against [Joseph] McCarthy. I heard a snatch of it the other night = disgusting. I’d hear every word of it, if I could — so you’re lucky I’m not there. In these circles, everyone is convinced that homosexuality is at the bottom of it all. […] All for now. Much love to you—and the other people. XXXX
Jim
BETTY POWERS
Portland
Monday p.m. [May 3, 1954]
Dear Betty,
[…] I saw Portland from a high crest today. The country all around was shrouded in mist. It’s like Ireland, the weather, and texture of the air (and grass); the viny-ness. English ivy everywhere. Things — the way people live — seem more bourgeois than Minnesota. Food is much better. You buy very good breakfast rolls everywhere — and they are always served warm. That’s just one thing — but it’s significant. Things cost more, but you don’t get the atrocious stuff (rolls, hamburgers) I’m used to (in eating places, I mean). […]
Much love,
Jim
BETTY POWERS
Albuquerque
May 15, 1954
Dear Betty,
[…] I was naturally sorry to hear of KA’s falling in with the larger boys and trust you’ll not let it happen again; not that it was your fault. I don’t see why she has to play with boys anyway. I suspect it’s those kids who live in the Atwood house, on the alley, where the yard looks like a country fair all the time. You are right about letting the girls get some experience of other children. But I wouldn’t feel that we’re monsters, in the way we’ve brought them up so far. In this matter, most parents are wrong, and the situation they create is wrong. We must use discretion. There will come a day when the girls will see the point in our prohibitions — which don’t strike me as severe at all, not unless I consider them from a point of view which, in fact, I abhor, popular now and here though it is. And you know how many people are out to break down what order we have managed to establish in our house, where the children are concerned. They will not rest until they’ve made us like everyone else, you yelling pointlessly and me carrying a potty wherever we go.3 I guess, secretly, I’m preparing for the day when we can leave this country for Ireland or England, where, it seems to me, if we continue as we have with the children, it will be possible for them to make the change without too much trouble. So much for that. […]