My attention was called to Fr Falque’s review about a week ago. I arrived at Don Humphrey’s one morning, and as is my custom, in person and over the telephone, I called out: “Any stirrings in the Movement?” This is a reference to the family-liturgico-rural-life movement which engages so many of us in this diocese, thanks, need I say, to an alert clergy (alert to the real dangers of the times), not the least of whom is our bishop, himself the product of family life and parents. “Yes,” Don said, “and it’s all about you.” He had attended a gathering the night before, and there had been some discussion of the review in question. At least one person thought I should go see the bishop — why is it so many people counsel me to go see the bishop? — and seek permission to sue Fr Falque. It seems I, being one of the faithful, need to do this if everything is to be correct, as regards the Church and my lowly position in it. Well, needless to say, I didn’t think much of that idea — and at this point hadn’t even seen the review. So I went down to the public library and found the review in a back number. I must say I enjoyed it, only wishing I’d met Fr Falque sometime in my wanderings. Do you think he’d sit for a portrait? As someone said, he didn’t like the book and he said so. The only thing I didn’t care for was the reference to my “feminine face”—I hope that isn’t accurate. I have never thought so, or been accused of having a feminine face, and it seems uncalled for when applied to the father of four, ungrateful, I might add, when you consider how much I’ve done for family life, at considerable trouble and expense.
Due to the length of the ball game, Listen to the Classics will not be heard tonight (WCCO).
So if I do go to the bishop, I think that point should be brought out. Meanwhile, I am working through Don, trying to arouse my dear friends, to get them to write letters of protest to The Wanderer and sign their names. Apparently, a much harder thing to bring off than, say, a visit by me to the bishop and suing Fr Falque. […]
A note in the French edition of Perspectives, the Ford Foundation magazine pub’d in four languages, explaining the meaning of “les KC” in the first cat story: “Knights of Columbus, association catholique d’immigrants en majorité d’origine italienne.” This is the translator’s note. […]
I took a bath tonight and put on a clean shirt and drove down to the Press Bar for a glass of beer. It was formal like that, and something I’ve never tried before. Bless me, Father, I was trying to give St Cloud a chance. I was in the mood, Father, and I was prepared to take a certain amount of pleasure in it. The choice was Cold Spring or Pfeiffer’s (Schmidt’s), because I wanted no bottle beer in my mood. I wanted it from the keg, or ex cathedra, if you understand my meaning here. Well, I drank the bitter draughts and departed after one glass, returned home, and that, I’m afraid, was, and is, it. The Press Bar was dark pink inside, and I was alone at the bar.
Alone.
Jim
[…] As it says about me in this edition of Perspectives: “Il vit aujourd’hui à Saint-Cloud, Minnesota, et s’est entièrement consacré à ses travaux littéraires.”
HARVEY EGAN
509 First Avenue South
Sunday noon, June 1956
Dear Fr Egan,
[…] I saw the Miss America pageant from Atlantic City last night on TV, and I must say it has become a noble affair. It used to be girls in bathing suits, but now it’s talent, personality, character, like a lodge induction. I hope they put it on film and that this will be shown in England — they think they’re so smart in these matters, coronations, and the like. There was one rather close tie-in with Philco, when the new Miss America entered the sacristy after her coronation, but I think this will be eliminated in the years to come. […]
Pictures of the new archbishop13 reveal (to me) the possibility of pride and ambition. Of course he’s young. […]
Jim
HARVEY EGAN
509 First Avenue South
Monday morning, 1956
Dear Fr Egan,
I called my agent’s hand, and he had me. I had expected he would reply at once, and that much was correct, but he didn’t send the money; he still talks of … well, I enclose his letter rec’d this morning. So if you still have that little envelope, I’d love to see it.
Also heard from Michigan again, and they want me to reconsider.14 At the moment, I am. Just one semester, and then we’ll go home … […]
I also heard from an MM15 by the name of Cosgrove.* He is in Formosa and wants to know what makes me tick. He says I should move into other fields.
Jim
What I mean in the first paragraph is that if my agent had advanced from his own till what is on the way from England, and had also told me that he wouldn’t expect his 10 % on Doubleday advances, I would hold still. I was badly out in my calculations, but this certainly confirms me in wanting out.
HARVEY EGAN
509 First Avenue South
June 21, 1956
Dear Fr Egan,
Your note and check rec’d this morning, and the letter has found its way downtown already. I have the lawn mower back, new tires and sharpened, all ready to roll, but now it’s raining, and I can see the grass growing away. Tomorrow it’ll be a battle between us, the grass and me, a battle I don’t mind when better equipped than I’ve been this year. I love the smell of cut grass, and I imagine you do, too. […]
I was relieved when I read in your note that you thought I’d do better to take Michigan’s money before Doubleday’s. Probably I’ll take both — unless the story at The New Yorker succeeds there — but this morning I wrote to Michigan and said, with two qualifications, I’d be happy to take the job for the first semester: the two being (a) that I have nothing to do with poetry, (b) that the days come together so I could get home often and keep up my police work with the children. It will be for only a little over four months. We will hire a woman to work mornings here, which will give Betty some time to finish her book, and I will get some privacy in Michigan, I trust, to continue my gentle chronicles. The Mitchells will be here for a good part of the time, so Betty will have someone else in the house at night, a matter of some importance to her. And we will buy necessities we’ve been doing without, coasting then down another long hill, I imagine, into another teaching job, and so on. I can’t believe I’ll ever make much on my work. I see I am running 10th and last in America’s book log for June; 9th in May. I guess the boy had to drop back a little and is taking me up on the outside. Stayer, needs goo.17 He’d better go to the whip. Ridin’ like a Chinaman, that Falque.
What do the beautiful changes among the hierarchy mean to you?18 How can you lose, okay.
See you, then, on the Wolverine out of the LaSalle Street Station, or the Twilight out of the IC.19 Here, I’ll get this round. Well, the next one then.
Keep in touch.
Jim
HARVEY EGAN
509 First Avenue South
June 25, 1956
Dear Fr Egan,
Hope you’re no longer here (at the hospital) but that this follows you back to Beardsley, or to the second week of the retreat if there is one. Don’t forget, if you should miss out in your diocese, there is always New York state (and Saratoga in August).
Oh, yes. This is from the English advance.20 It actually came.
I am on my way over to see Hump now. He went to a picnic yesterday out at Hyneses, and according to Mary, whom I’ve seen in the meantime, everything went all right except for one argument Tom had with Arleen, who maintained that our bishop is not as bad as were Stalin and Hitler in their day.