Letter from Edward Thomas to the poet Gordon Bottomley. Sent from Berryfield Cottage, Ashford, Petersfield, Hampshire. Archival ref: 424/1/1/1/10/91
Ashford

22.ix.07

My dear Gordon,
I see it is a month since
you wrote to me & I remember how
glad I was in Wiltshire to get a letter
from you. But down there I was
nearly always out of doors & when
indoors I was writing out my notes or
writing to crowds of people who were
supposed to be likely to help me to
know Jefferies. The three weeks thus
passed quickly: I could do no
ordinary work there - so that when
I got home I was working from
9.30 a.m. to 1 a.m., reading &
writing, & am still busy. My
information comes in in scraps, often
long letters & nothing said; & each
letter gives a new address which I write
to & get the same result. Still,
I met one or two good people - one
splendid old woman - in Wiltshire,
& I looked thro Parish Registers, &
altogether I have a mass of trifles
that are new & will have some
effect. But I see that I must use
Jefferies' books chiefly as my
sources, & quote more than I
like doing. 80,000 words will
not be hard to write: the difficulty
will be to use all the most relevant
things. If possible I must
all but finish it by May & then look
at Barrow (which is for Methuen).
And now Grant Richards wants me
to do a book for the Spring dealing
more or less definitely with the question
of townsmen going out into the country
to play, to write or to live. I
can't accept unless I can get a
good framework to build on, & I
can't write a treatise. So I must
refuse unless someone will give me a
simple plot. Not a lot of ramifications,
recognition scenes, etc, but just a
progressive narrative that can help
me to get out, first, my knowledge
of the Suburbs, then, for content,
the country. Does anything occur to
you and Emily? I have till the
end of the week to decide. I would
refuse at once only I want to see how
far I can 'live & live better' by
books instead of reviewing. A
Diary would be easy - too easy-
& it s not a form I desire. Letters
also I don't like & they would
be hard (as you know). If
I could be anonymous - which
G R. won't allow - I could be frankly
autobiographical. As it is, I can't
put all, or even the main part, of my
own experience into a book to be
wildly advertised & obviously a
publisher's book. Besides I should hurt
a lot of people & I can't yet.
Jefferies by the way only was
Danae to illustrate the cruelty of
life.
I have been reviewing Prior Beddoes
& a book about Arthur in the English
Poets for the 'Saturday' & Yeats
& Jefferies for 'Bookman' &
other trifles. But work that
brings money at once does not abound,
& Milne especially does not encourage
me except by 1/3s of a column at a time.
If this weather lasts you might to
come here. What are your plans?
Late October will very likely be fine
here, tho it may be very misty
in the mornings as it has been
for two weeks (tho not dripping
mists yet). We should like to see
you here.
I like your account of Guthrie.
I have not been able to see him yet,
but I shall by this week.
I am not well, worried,
hard at work, discontented with
myself & everyone I see, but chiefly
myself & I am troubled by a lot
of sleepiness not only at night
after 10 but even in the
morning, tho I usually get 7
hours sleep at night. I begin to think
that this kind of life can't go on
for ever & yet there are old faces
which contradict me. Why have I no
energies like other men? I long for
some hatred or indignation or even
sharp despair, since love is impossible,
to send me out on the road that
leads over the hills & among the
stars sometimes. Till then I
must grind everything out, conscious
at every moment of what the result
is & so always dissatisfied.
I was told the other day that I seemed a
calm dispassionate observer with no
opinions. I hope I am more. I have
no opinions, I know. But cannot
the passive temperament do
something, a little? for I have
impressions of men & plates & books.
They often overawe me as a tree
or a crowd does the sensitized paper;
& is that nothing or as good as
nothing? The men I admire most
seem to say it is nothing. Yet I think
of the pain of going on living & not
being able to do anything but eat
& drink & earn a living for
5 people. Would anyone do it
that was aware of what he did?
And will not the doing of it be a
most sharp martyrdom to which no
Church allows any honour?
Yours & Emily's ever
Edward Thomas