though I care tuppence about them) have been dirty dogs to women in the past. I am under the impression that men have been âdirty dogsâ to men, and âdirty dogsâ to women, and that women have been âdirty dogsâ to men and âdirty dogsâ to women. But I think most women are (unfortunately) fairlycontent to be regarded as nice pieces of furniture. Honestly, right now, wouldnât it suit you? And arenât you prepared for me to treat you as a piece of furniture at some time or other, despite my high flown equality reasonings? If you are not, then you will probably be shocked. Hope your plums will delight you â next year. Sorry, too, about these flying bombs. I wish theyâd finish so that I could have a little more peace of mind.
I love you.
Chris
23 September 1944
I have now finished skimming through the great file of printed papers that Deb sent me. One of the reviews in The New Statesman was about three recently published works on Geology.
In my last LC I asked whether you did not expect sometime that I should treat you as a piece of furniture. Really, I think I am bound to do so, though I shall probably try hard not to do anything you donât want. But you can be sure I will occasionally forget and on those occasions expect your forgiveness, which is a sauce, but natural. You see, I want so completely to dominate and possess you. If I were less certain of you I should find my thoughts less riotously arranged, but I know that you await me and have waited long, and I want to fling myself upon you and devour you.
I do not think I mentioned that while in town the other day I went to the ENSA pictures. â Frontier Badmen â the only one I remember in it was Diana Barrymore. It was all about cattle selling and more or less rustling. Set in 1869, the gunmen all had automatic pistols that appeared to fire on and on and on. We shared a box (free, by the way) with a couple of Americans, and I felt like an argument about the superiority of US films, but there is a certain barrier between us, and nothing happened. We are like their poor relations.
Here, because there are no real washing facilities, I get my laundry done by a woman about here. The other day she invited me into her living room (there are no passages, one foot over the front door and you are on top of the big double bed). I went in, rather awkwardly, and looked about me â shrine, stone floor of course, pots and pans, but not dirty. On the wall a photo of a male child, aged 2, I should say, nude and front view. Funny way of going on, to us, but I suppose that everything is due to be judged by different standards. I gather that no one out here eats tomato skin. They are thrown away. The main meal seems to be a hunk of browny bread, with tomato pips and juice on the top.
I hope you are well.
I love you.
Chris
Geology For Everyman â the late Sir A. Seward (Cambridge, 10/6)
Teach Yourself Geology â A. Raistrick (English Universities Press, 3s.)
Geology in the Service of Man (W.G. Fearnsides and O.M.B. Bulman) Pelican 9d.
26 September 1944
My Dearest, Dearest One,
I am pleased that Bartlettâs Quotations arrived. Was it badly knocked about? You do not seem to be as delighted with it as I imagined. Have you seen the Index at the back, you can put your finger on anything with its aid. It had a lot of Shaw, so you should be able to remind yourself of much. Have you looked up Kipling? Read A.P. Herbert âWhen love is deadâ. There is hours of sampling to be done, if you will. I donât expect to use quotations with you in those far-off happy days when we shall be TOGETHER. I shall be original if at all possible.
I have just bought one of the long handled straw brooms to use in these parts (60 lire). Had to get a receipt and took the Interpreter along. The lady who sold the broom could not write, but her 13 year old daughter could, and signed her name: Maschia Maria Bruno.
I love you.
Chris
23 September 1944
I have now finished skimming through the great file of printed papers that Deb sent me. One of the reviews in The New Statesman was about three recently published works on Geology.
In my last LC I asked whether you did not expect sometime that I should treat you as a piece of furniture. Really, I think I am bound to do so, though I shall probably try hard not to do anything you donât want. But you can be sure I will occasionally forget and on those occasions expect your forgiveness, which is a sauce, but natural. You see, I want so completely to dominate and possess you. If I were less certain of you I should find my thoughts less riotously arranged, but I know that you await me and have waited long, and I want to fling myself upon you and devour you.
I do not think I mentioned that while in town the other day I went to the ENSA pictures. â Frontier Badmen â the only one I remember in it was Diana Barrymore. It was all about cattle selling and more or less rustling. Set in 1869, the gunmen all had automatic pistols that appeared to fire on and on and on. We shared a box (free, by the way) with a couple of Americans, and I felt like an argument about the superiority of US films, but there is a certain barrier between us, and nothing happened. We are like their poor relations.
Here, because there are no real washing facilities, I get my laundry done by a woman about here. The other day she invited me into her living room (there are no passages, one foot over the front door and you are on top of the big double bed). I went in, rather awkwardly, and looked about me â shrine, stone floor of course, pots and pans, but not dirty. On the wall a photo of a male child, aged 2, I should say, nude and front view. Funny way of going on, to us, but I suppose that everything is due to be judged by different standards. I gather that no one out here eats tomato skin. They are thrown away. The main meal seems to be a hunk of browny bread, with tomato pips and juice on the top.
I hope you are well.
I love you.
Chris
Geology For Everyman â the late Sir A. Seward (Cambridge, 10/6)
Teach Yourself Geology â A. Raistrick (English Universities Press, 3s.)
Geology in the Service of Man (W.G. Fearnsides and O.M.B. Bulman) Pelican 9d.
26 September 1944
My Dearest, Dearest One,
I am pleased that Bartlettâs Quotations arrived. Was it badly knocked about? You do not seem to be as delighted with it as I imagined. Have you seen the Index at the back, you can put your finger on anything with its aid. It had a lot of Shaw, so you should be able to remind yourself of much. Have you looked up Kipling? Read A.P. Herbert âWhen love is deadâ. There is hours of sampling to be done, if you will. I donât expect to use quotations with you in those far-off happy days when we shall be TOGETHER. I shall be original if at all possible.
I have just bought one of the long handled straw brooms to use in these parts (60 lire). Had to get a receipt and took the Interpreter along. The lady who sold the broom could not write, but her 13 year old daughter could, and signed her name: Maschia Maria Bruno.
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