War news

Friday, February 12th., Comarques, Thorpe-le-Soken.

I think that the war is now drawing to a close and I should be rather surprised if it didn't end this year. The whole thing has been a sheer madness in my opinion.  But when you see the newspapers more occupied with the social and political news of the war and not the military news of the war you may bet a great change has come over the scene. And not before time because the food situation here is grave. In Germany and Austria it is, I understand, appalling. The recent strikes in Germany and Austria were very real and alarming, and all this is to the good. The only potential problem I see is that if social unrest gets completely out of hand then there may occur something similar to what has happened in Russia. It depends on whether or not there are sufficiently charismatic agitators to lead a revolution.

As I see it, it would be sufficient for us for Austria to cave in. If Austria did then Germany would have to. As Austria is easily the weaker of the two, the most interesting thing is what is happening in Austria, and yet people seem always more interested in what is happening in Germany. The chain is only as strong as its weakest link and Austria is the weakest link. I don't count Turkey and Bulgaria. 

The U.S.A. have now 400,000 men in France, and the number is increasing all the time. Up to the present however the U.S.A. haven't displayed much talent for turning men into an coherent fighting machine. They are not conceited and they admit this. So far, they are far inferior to us in this respect. I have this on good authority because I see a great many people of all sorts who are in a position to know the facts and who talk freely to me.

Russian news is scarce and much of it is censored. An English manufacturer in Russia who has escaped told a friend of mine, who told me, that he was tried for his life by his own workmen, and got off by a majority of two.Also that he himself saw people being burned alive in barrels of kerosene in the Nevsky Prospect, the principal street of Petrograd, and that nobody seemed to be particularly upset by it. Except those being incinerated of course! Hugh Walpole has spent most of the war in Petrograd and has the most astounding stories to tell of robbery and violence and so on. Some interesting material for his use when this is all over.

I have just now finished "The Pretty Lady" but it doesn't leave me much freer as I am always worried with articles and oddments for this tedious war

Holy ground

Friday, January 13th., Comarques, Thorpe-le-Soken.

On Wednesday evening I went into Westminster Cathedral, and saw how to use it again in my novel. Very cold day. Nice warm cathedral. Ugly chapels, details invisible. A non-RC parson or two squinting about, probably looking for hints or tips. Noise of a charwoman mopping the floor. Exceedingly few people. Then at 10.10 either Prime or Tierce. A few performers came in after a bell had rung; took their seats and then the intoning begins; scarcely audible for a second or less. It 'steals out'. Words utterly incomprehensible. Who are they calling to? Outside, front of shop devoted to rosaries, crucifixes etc. God's work is carried forward in many different ways. Amazing places these cathedrals - powerful but pointless.
 

 Today, Walpole's scheme for me to republish Jacob Tonson articles in volume had taken shape. I read through a lot of the stuff and found it enormously vivacious. In fact I hated to leave it this evening to go toball given by 2nd First London R.G.A. at Weeley - "The Fields".

Something of a dog

Friday, March 4th., Royal York Hotel, Brighton.

Alphonse Courlander

Going along the Strand on Wednesday afternoon I met Alphonse Courlander. Just the same. Wanting to know what kind of book the 'book of the future' would be so that he might write in that style. Very disappointed because, at the age of 28, he had not made a name. "The worst of me is that I am so imitative" he said. "Every good writer I read strongly influences me." Pathetic, wistful figure. He never will make a name.
 
Tea at Rumpelmayers. Marie Belloc Lowndes at lunch. We talked mainly about Wells's scandals and Barrie's scandals. I always feel a little awkward with her because years ago, on a whim, I told her I kept a notebook of my 'amorous' liaisons. In fact I showed her a small pocket book I happened to have with me. So she got the impression, erroneously, that I am something of a 'dog'. The good thing about it is that we talk quite frankly about sexual matters when we meet. I am sure she thinks I am a little in Wells's way, but more discreet. I wonder what she tells Marguerite? Met a young novelist named Walpole. Stayed there fighting with the band until 6.15.

Dined with Webster, Dolly Smith, and poet Wayle at Treviglios. Both Dolly and I had forgotten our tickets, so we had to drive to Golden Cross Hotel, and to Bayswater to get them. Reached Albert Hall and costume ball of the Chelsea Arts Club at 11.15. Left at 4.15. Got into bed at 5 and was up at 8.30. No China tea at Golden Cross Hotel.