Letter from Edward Thomas to the poet Gordon Bottomley. Sent from [Elses Farm], The Weald, Kent]. Archival ref: 424/1/1/1/10/42
15.ix.05

My dear Gordon
I am glad to I sent you my
ejaculation. The condemned sentence
was bad & just as you said. So I
have pulled it together & can now
almost satisfied with it. But I wonder
are you right about the form. You are
my kindest critic & you let me to
drop the form because it doesn't give
me opportunity enough. Edward Garnett-
who was here today & yesterday - finds
the form all right but says my sentiment
is not always consistent - that details
are sometimes out of keeping -- & that
I often make the reader want a picture
& do not satisfy him. If he were
not so damnably infallible I should be
inclined to believe him & to persuade
myself that really you both agree. But
I can't give it up yet. I am always
wanting to do such things; & they are
not indolent either - the ideas are
spread over the long blank period since I
began to do Oxford & only now can
I use them; so I think I must. No

other form ever occurs to me, to I see
that I may come to stories of some kind-
not plotty cathartics, but episodes ending
suddenly & so on; & that a novel is
possible, & fine on account of its difficulties,.
Once or twice, I have thought of a suburban
novel to be called 'A Suburban Education'
but vaguely, & I don't like great blocks of
autobiography. But stories & novels
seem far off & what am I to do? I can't
force myself as you can. For instance, I
can't let myself to do portraits & I dislike
action and psychology. - The fact
is that you want me to use what experience
I have had more explicitly than I do & don't you?
But I must learn to do so by growth & not
by executing poetic justice upon the remnants
of a childhood that never existed. How
important it sounds?
Can you have Helen as wel as
me? She must have a holiday &
she want me to join her & I cannot go to
you & elsewhere with her now that
the publishing season is beginning. But
I should like 10 days or a fortnight
with you far better than anything else.
The little bedroom will do perfectly. (I am
very rude.) Helen will be 'never a third'.
I saw Arhtur for an hour or two
this week. He still talks about literature,
but I was glad to see him & yet afraid
that his chief occasion for taking me is
a belief that I am interested in him. We
sang
We're off to Rio,
We're off to Rio,
Then fare you well,
You bring young girl,
We're off to Rio Grande-

It has a glorious tune which I prefer to
Westminster Abby just now.
Goodbye, Helen believes you &
send her love with mine to you and
all,

Ever yours
Edward Thomas