In the woods

Tuesday, February 16th., Hotel Belvedere, Vevey.

Up in the woods. Long snow path. Greenish-brown-black colour of wood cut and uncut coming often in the distance, or rather flaming out with a spark or spot of ochreish raw wood - the end of a fresh cut log. Immense amount of wood-cutting on the mountainside. All the upward paths lead up to and stop at either a farm or a wood-cutting place. The paths seldom join each other. They are nearly all blind. But this morning in a snowstorm I found a path that led clear over the top of the mountain to the southern slope; a long way. It stopped at a wood-cutting place, or diminished rather to a track of a dog's feet, which went under a hedge and reappeared on the other side. But the slope was too steep for me to follow. I could see Attalens. So I had to turn back. Clouds broke and then strong sunshine.

Yesterday I finished three quarters of "Denry the Audacious". I think that in book form I shall call it "The Card". Good honest everyday work, vitiated by my constant thought of a magazine public. Is Denry Machin a credible character? My feeling, looking back, is that he has become somewhat more of a caricature as the novel has progressed. In a way the novel has become increasingly plot driven rather than character driven and I feel as if Denry has 'gotten away' from me. Not that it really matters. It's a comic novel, not highbrow literature. Mr. Polly isn't 'real' either - but what a creation!