Blown away

Tuesday, February 23rd., Cadogan Square, London.

I stepped outside for a breath of air this morning and was nearly blown away. As I write now I can hear the wind swirling round the building as if seeking a way in. Not surprising that ancient, and not so ancient, peoples believed that lost souls might be incorporated in wind. One does not expect to be so greatly assailed in the town; certainly not in the middle of a great city. The wind should be more properly a rural phenomenon, or especially a maritime one. I wasn't out long. But I had a breath or two of air!

I have been reading a book about Japan. It is a novel but intends I think to give an accurate account of that country to which I have never been. I like to read about strange places and often feel inclined to visit as a consequence. But I don't want to visit Japan. It sounds to be a terrible country. Terrible by reason of the cast-iron conventions which hold its society together. It is more Western than the Europe which it has too sedulously copied, and yet remains fantastically Oriental. In polite Japanese circles, and all Japanese circles are polite, everything it seems is 'honourable', both persons and things. 'Honourable' seems to be a key word of all social relations. Socially every Japanese is walking on a tight-rope over the Niagara of solecism all the time. There can be no relief for him, night and day.

I am to go up to Manchester by special train at the weekend for Cochran's "1928 Review". The book and lyrics are by Noel Coward, and there are alleged to be 28 tableaux and 500 costumes. I am promised that there will be a surfeit of pretty young women on the train. Otherwise, I would have preferred to go by car but Dorothy has robbed me of it for three weeks. She is somewhere in France with Audrey Anderson driving to the Riviera and back. Life is much calmer here in spite of the wind!