Finishing things

Tuesday, December 18th., Cadogan Square, London.

Last evening, at home for once, I finished reading "The Sea" by John Banville. Whole thing in two good sessions. Frankly I think that it would have benefitted from judicious editing to become a 'long' short story. Very good, elegant writing; some of the lengthy, complex, sentences reminded me of Henry James. Themes are loss and memory, fairly common but well treated by Banville. Setting is Ireland, probably north of the border. I had a little trouble with the central character/narrator who is really too anguished by the death of his wife; it is made clear that she had been dying for a year, so he would have had time to get used to the idea. Present and past events are nicely juxtaposed, and the subsidiary characters are well done. Overall a good read.

Today I finished correcting typescript of "Punch and Judy" film.

Geoffrey Russell, F. Swinnerton came to lunch on business; also Elena Sullivan, our first view of her since Bertie's death about three weeks ago. She behaved with Latin calm and dignity. Exactly the right touch.

After lunch I formally gave to Dorothy 47 volumes of my MSS. (34 of Journal; 2 "Old Wives' Tale"; 1 "Riceyman Steps"; 1 "Elsie"; and 9 "Clayhanger Family") in the presence of MissNerney, Fred Harvey, Swinnerton and Geoffrey Russell.

Roger Fry, Mrs. Anrep, Francis Birrell and the Edes came to dinner. Very good evening. Fry and Birrell were fine.

White hunting

Friday, November 25th., Cadogan Square, London.

I went to the Reform Club to dine. I there met Raymond Mortimer and Francis Birrell. They had with them a chap by the name of Wilson, a retired 'white hunter'; injured in an accident involving a gun, right arm more or less useless. Interesting chap. Very obviously missing his trade and keen to talk about it. Will probably become a bore in time.

Told me that the first 'kill' is the hardest because the hunter doesn't know his own capacity. It is all about controlling fear. Said that some of his clients just couldn't cope with it, for example if they had to come to close quarters with a wounded animal, which often happens. Said he has seen men just turn and run away with fear, which is hard for them to cope with afterwards. On the other hand he has seen others who overcome their fear and gain tremendous confidence as a result. For some it completely changes their lives. Quite fascinating. As for himself he says that he came to the realisation that to fear death is illogical; if he were killed whilst hunting, well so be it; "Today is as good a day to die as any other." A model stoic attitude.

Also told us that most of his clients were Americans, usually a husband and wife. Apparently the women usually find the business of hunting and killing very exciting (sexually) though they may say they are 'horrified', and there is almost an expectation that they will sleep with the white hunter. Said he always took a double 'cot' with him on safari for that reason. Didn't say what the husband thought about it! Probably hadn't had opportunity to find out! 

Then Mortimer, Birrell and I went to the second night of Coward's "Sirocco". Goodish first act. Putrid second. And trying and hysterical third. On the whole a trying evening. I sometimes wonder why I bother to go out so often. I drove home with Birrell, and waited in bed for Dorothy to return. Pity she hadn't been out hunting.

A literary evening

Thursday, November 4th., Cadogan Square, London.

I walked to the Savoy Hotel for the luncheon given to Osbert Sitwell prior to his departure for America. 60 people at this lunch. It was exceedingly well done. Birrell, aged 76, was in the chair, and as lively as a boy. He made two excellent informal speeches. 

Francis Birrell

Francis Birrell (1889 -1935) was a British journalist, editor, translator and literary critic, of the so-called Bloomsbury Group and counted as a friend of the authors James Elroy Flecker  and David Garnett. Between 1915 and 1919 he worked in France for the War Victims Relief Committee of the Society of Friends. Along with Garnett he ran during the 1920s in London, the bookstore Birrell and Garnett, 33 Gerrard Street, near the British Museum. There the members of the Bloomsbury Group, preferably bought their books.

I got home at 4 p.m., and did oddments and had tea, and then went to bed for two hours 5.15 to 7.15. 

Leonard and Virginia Woolf in 1926

We were ten minutes late for dinner at H. G. Wells's, and H. G. himself was eleven minutes late. The Shaws were there, and Frank Wells, and Marjorie Craig (H.G.'s morning secretary) and the Leonard Woolfs. Both gloomy these last two. But I liked both of them in spite of their naughty treatment of me in the press.

Shaw talked practically the whole time, which is the same thing as saying he talked a damn sight too much. After dinner he and Dorothy and Virginia Woolf and H. G. formed a group and never moved. I formed another group with Charlotte Shaw and Jane Wells, and never moved either. I really wanted to have a scrap with Virginia Woolf; but got no chance.




Additionally for November 4th., see 'London again' -
http://earnoldbennett.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/wednesday-november-4th.html

Then tea at A.B.C. Shop opposite Charing Cross. Down into smoking room. A few gloomy and rather nice men. One couple of men deliberately attacking dish of hot tea-cakes. Terrible. Familiar smell of hot tea. A.B.C shops are still for me one of the most characteristic things in London.