I think it’s foolish to try an urinalysis—besides have no place to so just tell Williams and all his buddies to find some other where to peddle their bottles and pills—I’m all thru with them.
The address is just Pando Colo. and the boots will probably come in a few days—
Well must get to bed to get up at 4:30 tomorrow morning—
Love
Bill
To Edith Gaddis
[WG returned to Harvard in September 1942.]
Harvard University
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[25 September 1942]
Dear Mom—
Well it began today—classes, I mean—and oh boy! Now the devil to pay for eight months hence I guess.
I had a talk with Dean Leighton—am only supposed to take 2 subjects but have signed up for 4—think I can talk Dr. Bach into it. Am taking Eng. A (required), French C (required—lousy course—just lousy right thru to the last day, but required), Eng I—good course—history of Eng. literature—open to freshmen and sophs—and psychology I—a 2nd year course—had to get permission from the instructor to take it—reputed to be tough but a good course. Also books have been changed for all courses but Eng A—so today spent practically $10 on books—still lack three.
The extra $100 for tuition is OK—all the boys had trouble—many with own checking acc’ts—were stymied—but they don’t catch up for a day or two and by that time it will be straightened out.
Got a letter from Underwood—they say the typewriter is on the way—I already owe a 600 wd. theme! Boy they don’t waste time.
I got my lamp back from Neil and the clock—and am going to get the rug as soon as I have time!
Francis is OK for roommate—very conservative—quiet—extremist really—maybe he’ll be a good influence.
John [Snow] is still the same—and the old crowd—same bunch—you know I feel like an upper classman—all upper classmen around me etc.—it’s wonderful.
Say when you get a chance could you start the following things on their way up here to make our room more habitable[:] the leopard skin on the lodge closet door—the spurs on the floor nearby—both of Smokey’s pictures—the small rug—both machetes and the little Mexican knife & sheath & chain to the right of the east hayloft windows (one machete is over hayloft door—the other on edge of balcony)—also any thing else you think might look intriguing on our wall—oh yes the steers’ horns—
Thanks
Bill
Smokey: WG’s labrador; spelled Smoky below.
To Edith Gaddis
Eliot House D-31
Cambridge, Mass.
[4 October 1942]
Dear Mom—
Back again into this wonderful old life—but for how long? Gee, it’s got me—not worried, but thinking, and wondering sometimes it seems so futile, but this is so good I wish it might last.
Thanks for the letters—and it’s so swell that the raise worked out, probably to buy me a sea chest a sailor sent or something! The package came too.
Am trying to keep work up, and to the best of my knowledge am up in it all—am recovering now from a film we had today in psychology of a dog with half a brain!! boy they have everything here.
Also have made a new discovery—the music room here, with fine record player and all kinds of classics—Afternoon of a Faun and the Bolero, Porgy & Bess, Scheherazade—everything.
I saw Cliff Mon. evening—lent him $25 to buy a little cocker spaniel which is very cute—don’t be alarmed tho—I have his check and am going to cash it tomorrow—I left him and went down to 42nd St.—up to 500 to a place Eddie South was supposed to be playing but he wasn’t there—then Café Society uptown—saw Hazel Scott—wonderful—and got a late train up—slept all the way—
Must get back to my English—
Love
Bill
Eddie South: African-American jazz violinist (1904–62).
Hazel Scott: African-American pianist (1920–81). The Café Society was a nightclub on 58th Street between Lexington and Park Avenue (an offshoot of the better known one down in Greenwich Village).
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[5 October 1942]
Dear Mom—
Thanks so much for the letter and bond—gee it will save things—I need three books for French (must read Tovaritch—in French—isn’t that awful?!!). We are also waiting to get some slip covers for our couch ($4!).
And thanks for sending the stuff—it will look swell up here. It’s all right about Smoky’s pictures—will get ’em later—And then thanks for the pen—it will be swell I know—
Don’t know about the rug but there’s time for that—And thanks for Bacchus—it will look handsome too. I know.
And now I have a bit of bad news—you remember the raincoat I was so proud of—and saw me thru from Panama to L.A.—and Arizona and everything—any how I lost it—registered at Memorial Hall for school—went out and walked half a block—remembered I’d left it in the chair—ran back—practically immediately—and it was gone—checked with janitor and lost-found—no sign—somebody picked it up so apparently it’s gone—we were thinking of a new topcoat—they have water repellant topcoats—sort of combinations—might get one of them—what’s your word?—keep present coat for winter cold.
Saw the Penn game here Saturday—we lost but good game—have been seeing John and company recently too—everything swell so far except French C—but can’t have everything—excuse hurry but must read some Middle English Drama and psychology for tomorrow—will write again soon—
Love
Bill
Tovaritch: stage comedy (1933) by Jacques Deval, adapted as a film (1935).
Middle English Drama: undoubtedly Chief Pre-Shakespearean Dramas, ed. Joseph Quincy Adams (Cambridge: Houghton Mifflin, 1924), which WG used for R and retained all his life.
To Edith Gaddis
[A rare typewritten letter, which is what WG is referring to in the opening phrase.]
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[12 November 1942]
Dear Mom
This may seem like a queer way to write but am in the midst of another one of those D—themes for English which is unimportant anyhow, and am taking a breather.
Say I have only got one hour mark back: an 83 in English which is about a B which suits me fine! It is the only course I really care about—I mean really like and want to get the most of out. The psyc is good but getting tough—we’re getting into physics which I hadn’t expected but it is still interesting. The French is of course still all right, and am trying to get a good basic knowledge of it; the exam is tomorrow. Sometimes I get disgusted with it but something always comes—this time it was the French film of Crime and Punishment that we saw down in Boston—to make me realize what a beautiful language it is and what fun it would be to know it well and all of the gates that would be open to one who did understand it.
English A is still as inane as ever—I write the themes, work on them, but that’s all—I didn’t take the inconsequential hour exam in it; you see that was one good reason I went up to Stillman. It wasn’t a stomach ache, but ‘uncontrollable nausea,’ which finally came up to get me after celebrating that game we won last Saturday (Princeton) and then studying hard for the hour exams during the week. I was just upset that day but got right over it and now am back at it again.
I’m beginning to wish I had been able to squeeze Philosophy A in somewhere this year. I was over in John’s room late last nite and we ‘got into it,’ and it was really fun. Have been reading Nietzsche and Schopenhauer and got a book of Kant’s out of the library today. Incidentally, we have the most wonderful house library in Eliot: all kinds of books, but an accent on classics and such, and big leather covered chairs etc. Gee it’s all really wonderful.
Glad to hear about that $5 for that coat; everything here seems to come in 5’s; for the radio which I just got out of ‘hock’ 5 for the student council,
5 for our venetian blinds, which is about all our rooms has, aside from the $4 couch!
Yale next week! Boy it’s going to be something; John is taking some woman from locally here, a swell girl a bit on the ‘debby’ side, you know, that way of talking etc., but nice; we went over and had tea at their home about a week and a half ago. And my amazing Puritan room mate with a girl coming from Cleveland; he never fails to amaze me with something new like this!
And how the time passes; it seems like November just started, and here it is almost half done, and I owe a theme for December in one course already! It is snowing just a little today, and I saw the handsomest Christmas cards down at the Coop with pictures of the Eliot House gate in colour; gee it’s all as good as it ever could be, except for one detail, spelled A-r-t-h-u-r-M-u-r-r-a-y. Ware and I were hashing it over this afternoon, and I guess I’ll have to do something one of these days.
Love,
Bill
A-r-t-h-u-r-M-u-r-r-a-y: name of the founder of a dance-studio chain.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[27 November 1942]
Dear Mom—
Well—here we are—another envelop of bills—see how they come.
Neil and I stayed in town Sunday night—saw Native Son—liked it a great deal; finally got a bus up after the show—but it was worth it. Gee, he is some guy, isn’t he?! It was some mess but worked out fine I guess.
Last evening Camilla Sewell (the girl whom John had down to the Yale game) had a lovely and very formal tea dance—you know, butlers in tails etc.—but nice!
Tonight same bunch—I say bunch—of opera players are doing Carmen down in Boston—we may go down, I don’t know. I can’t figure whether it would be better to see it done poorly than not at all—we’ll see—
Have some psyc. to catch up on—
Love
Bill
Native Son: Richard Wright’s 1940 novel was adapted for the stage the following year.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[3 December 1942]
Dear Mom—
Just a note—have to study for exam tomorrow—in English A.—And so angry now am about to fly—my section man recommended a book to me he said was an exposition of the theory of history’s repeating itself etc.—I got it and turns out to be history of Communism and Socialism—Marxism—enough to make me actively ill—so don’t care about mark in this test but am going to tell him what I think of his lousy piggish socialism &c—sometimes I think he’s turned that way—he recommends many such books—so I’m going to tell him how stinking I think it is and not worry about an E.
Have got Christmas cards—50—do you know where that plate I had for engraving is? It must be perhaps in my desk or somewhere—I’d like to have them done and mailed from here if possible—would appreciate it if you should run across it to send it up.—
Can hardly wait for Christmas—it will probably be the last “home from college” Christmas and I hope it will turn out well. We’re having a house formal here Saturday night but think I will abstain—the Christmas recess is more important. Quite a few of the fellows are going to be in town and will probably see them then and be in New York a good part of the time—
Well it isn’t long now—
Must get back to work—
Love
Bill
P.S.—Have gotten a couple of W. Saroyan’s books—wonderful—but G Stein is still a little beyond!
E: Harvard’s failing grade.
W. Saroyan: William Saroyan (1908–81), American short-story writer, novelist, and playwright, at the peak of his fame in 1942.
G Stein: Gertrude Stein (1874–1946), American writer and art patron.
To Edith Gaddis
Eliot House
11 January [1943]
Dear Mom—
Everything is fine and thanks for the check.
The work has been rather lax recently but only because the finals are coming up—@!!/* brother—then we get it! My first exam is next Monday—English I—my last one Monday the 25th in psychology. I think I shall be home Monday (25th) evening—OK? And say, how do you think the $ situation will be about then—I’d like to try to erase that mess I made of Christmas week if it’s possible and try to see some shows—plan ahead I mean and work it out like you have always said—[...]
Charles Gardiner is going to be in town over the weekend too, and wants me to see a show or two with him—more complications. He is just 18 but mature—well read etc.—good mind etc.—remembers Dead End—Winterset etc. Quite a guy.
Got a card from Francis this AM—he’s gone for good I guess—I am to send his last box out to him—‘end of an era!—’
Say, I hear you’re having gasoline trouble!! How are you coming out with the coupons? I suppose we did unnecessary driving, but I think it came out the same as if I hadn’t come home at all—and hadn’t got the 4 ‘A’ trickets from Granga.
We have been living quite a life this past week but now everyone is going into seclusion for midyear preparation—me too—it now being 1 AM and am starting She Stoops to Conquer for Eng I—wonderful course.
Love
Bill
P.S.—Tue AM—just got inductment papers—to report here the 14th—Thursday—so my next letter I’ll either be 4F or in His Majesty’s Army!
Charles Gardiner: unidentified.
Dead End—Winterset: movies that came out in 1937 and 1936, respectively.
She Stoops to Conquer: classic comedy by Oliver Goldsmith (1773).
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[16 January 1943]
Dear Mom—
Tried to get into Merchant Marine—couldn’t because of albumin; had draft board changed to Cambridge—will probably be inducted in early February but think I shan’t be drafted.
Thanks for Sak’s letter—since it looks like I’ll be here and do need a suit—well what do you think? I need it and they have my measurements—couldn’t they send it up?
Well everything under control, and except for owing Weidner library a small fortune and wanting to get a newspaper job immediately, having just seen Cary Grant in Once Upon a Honeymoon, I guess things will stay under control—
Love
Bill
Once Upon a Honeymoon: 1942 film in which Grant plays a radio correspondent in Europe during World War II.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[11 February 1943]
Dear Mom—
Just about able to sit up and write after my first fencing—first physical ed. I’ve had in years—and it was wild! Exercises I never knew existed. My right leg is sore from them and practicing lunges etc. I do hope I can stay with it. It is some sport.
Thanks for the watch—it’s good to have it again—and the gloves are beautiful thanks so much for both—and the checks. I paid 22.75 on the Coop’s bill and got $8 change—now I can charge until March 10th. That bill is right I guess and will check up some more. Now I can pay Callahan—and get a ticket to the ballet—the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo is going to be up here next week—Scherherezade Thursday night—the Afternoon of a Faun Saturday night—I don’t know which—those are the ones I want to see—
Last evening my roommate and I and some others (one fellow from India, one from Puerto Rico,—Afghanistan etc.) were invited to dinner at Mr. Finlay’s—the house master’s—quarters—quite an affair—beautiful furniture, silver service etc.—an Australian flier was here and did a great deal of talking but otherwise it was quite an event—
Right now it’s time to stop—Stanley Gould just came over—from ‘Watch Hill’ in Conncticut—who practiced drums for 6 years—and my room mate—and a record named Chasin’ with Chase are all going at once—so—I’d better get to work
Love
Bill
Stanley Gould: (1926–85), later became a well-known Greenwich Village hipster/junkie in
the ’40s and ’50s. He was the model for Anatole Broyard’s “Portrait of a Hipster” (Partisan Review, June 1948) and for Ross Wallenstein in Kerouac’s novel The Subterraneans (1958, in which WG appears as Harold Sand).
“Chasin’ with Chase”: a jazz tune recorded by vibraphonist Lionel Hampton.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[19 February 1943]
Dear Mom—
We did see the ballet last night and it was beautiful—we had wonderful seats—middle of back, orchestra circle, 1st row, Scheherazade was—well just — — — don’t have the right words. We’re going again tomorrow night—Afternoon of a Faun (Callahan cashed a check!).
I have been quite busy all week, and waiting around for George, who I thot might show up. He set out the 17th and I wanted him to stop here on his way down—then looked at the map and saw how far out of his way it is, so I’m really not surprised not seeing him. I hope I do before he goes, tho.
Red and I have furnished the room some what—an easy chair, lamp, and pillows for the couch, and now it is quite liveable—strange how much these little things do. It runs into $ but certainly is worth it.
We haven’t been asked for any ration books up here—they just feed us tripe and that is that. However I see no reason for not getting my number 2 book, as we can’t tell how long I’ll be here.
I’m quite busy—an hour exam in psyc. next week, 5000 words (which is quite a lot when you stop to count them up) on the short story form in the New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly etc.—I had a talk with Mr. Elman—he is quite all right—in fact I gave him a story I wrote for him to look at and criticize—which he probably will!
John is taking a secretarial course in Washington—and not exceedingly happy with it—but it will clear up I guess.
And by now (when you get this letter) you will probably know all about it—tho it may not happen—but Charley Socarides is coming soon to try to get into some medical school in NY—plans to stay at the Biltmore and may look up Mrs. Garrett! So—it’s out of my hands—I’d like to have come down with him, but $ and work and I guess it’s best I’m not—a good long weekend.