London weather

Thursday, December 17th., Rue de Calais, Paris.

I went into a rather select little cafe last night in the Place Clichy, and was more than ever struck by the 'intimity' of this kind of cafe. The place amounted to a club. Nearly everyone who entered shook hands with the demoiselle de comptoire. An aged couple came in, aged between 60 and 70. The man was reading La Presse, and the woman, big and bony, called for Paris-Sportif and busied herself in the day's racing until they were joined by another man, also pld and very mannered..All three were intensely respectable and dignified, though not in the least chic. Watching people from the shelter of my newspaper in these places is better than going to the theatre.


I had meant to see Sudermann's "L'Honneur" at the Theatre de Peuple, but being interested in my novel, I came home at 8.30 and worked 'til 11 p.m. Good progress.

I finished Daudet's "Sapho". Chapter XII describing Jean's management of the rupture with Fanny is very great indeed. No general accusation of sentimentality can be brought against the book. As a whole it is great and terrible. I read that a play based on the novel is causing a sensation in the United States because it centres on a sexually active woman who 'preys' on men. I hope it will be brought to Paris. It should be, though it won't be so sensational here. Now I can go back to my "Casanova", having read all the absolutely first-class French novels of the nineteenth century.


This morning the weather is exactly London weather, gloomy and muggy, and not very cold. The sort of weather that makes one feel like turning back when opening the door into the street. And impossible to tell which clothes to wear to be comfortable and dry whilst walking about.

That Brieux is not a good playwright is certain; but it is also certain that he is a social force, and that his plays are very interesting as rough-and-ready presentments of social problems. Her and there he displays an extraordinary gift for the theatrical effect.