The Letters of Dorothy L. Sayers, Volume 2 Read online

  [24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex]

  TO LAURENCE IRVING

  26 February 1937

  Dear Mr Irving,

  Many thanks for your letter. I enclose the fourth section of the play, which with the pageant, completes the job.1 Perhaps when you have read it you will pass the copies on to Miss Babington.

  In view of what you say about wanting to get on quickly to the end, I am alarmed to find that this section is five minutes longer than any of the others! It is, however, from the doctrinal point of view, at any rate, the most important of the lot. From a dramatic point of view also, William’s spiritual conflict is the turning point of the action, and this has had to be worked out. Although his speech “We are the master-craftsmen” does in a sense express the theme of the Festival, it is, after all, rank blasphemy, and ends with an explosion of spiritual pride that is about as awkward a lurch in the direction of hell’s gate as anything could very well be. You should have heard Charles Williams2 reading this passage aloud in Simpsons,3 bouncing a great deal upon his chair and saying: “Of course, you know, it is all quite true” – here the waiter brought us cold lobster – “Ah! now! it really is blasphemy!” – much to my embarrassment. I am sending you also a speech for Michael which, from my point of view, does sum up the theological side of the theme, and contains the plea for which you asked, that the people of Canterbury should look after their Cathedral. The proper place for this is at the opening of the pageant, but I shall not be at all surprised if we are obliged to leave it out for lack of time.4 Having, as a dramatist, become enamoured of my own work, I am inclined to urge the cutting down of the pageant rather than of the four Acts of the play proper; but you will use your own judgement about this. The only bit of Act IV which could come out, lock, stock and barrel, is the little comedy interlude with Ernulphus and Paul, but this will only play about a minute, and I feel that it is helpful as lightening the rather sombre and supernatural atmosphere of this Act.5

  I have had to be a little firm with Miss Babington, who wants the whole play got into proof before it is even read to the actors; while I see that this solves for her the difficulty of providing copies, I have had to point out that the play is bound to be much altered in production, and that if I have to make many alterations on the proofs I shall be let in for an enormous printers’ bill. Also the actors will need more detailed stage directions than I should be likely to put into the printed version. I have suggested that the whole thing might be roneo’d6 for the cast at the expense of a few pounds.

  I am sending a copy of everything to Mr Harcourt Williams, and will get into touch with him about a date for a reading.

  I am so glad you like the play as far as you have seen it, and also that you enjoyed Busman’s Honeymoon with whatever reservations about the acting and production.

  It is so kind of you and your wife to ask me to stay with you when I come down; I shall be delighted to do so.

  With best wishes,

  Yours very sincerely,

  [Dorothy L. Sayers]

  1 She had written The Zeal of Thy House in 9 weeks.

  2 For the influence of Charles Williams (1886–1945) on the life and writings of D. L. S., see Barbara Reynolds, Dorothy L. Sayers: Her Life and Soul and The Passionate Intellect: Dorothy L. Sayers’ Encounter with Dante.

  3 A prestigious restaurant in the Strand.

  4 It was omitted.

  5 This charming scene was retained.

  6 A method of reproducing copies of text before the days of photocopying.

  [24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex]

  TO JOHN DICKSON CARR1

  3 March 1937

  Dear Mr Carr,

  Many thanks for the photographs; I think they are really extraordinarily good, especially John Rhode’s2 which is superbly characteristic. I am sorry the groups did not come out well, but for some reason you cannot get people to stand still without giggling for six seconds.

  I am astonished that you never came across any account of the Wallace murder; it certainly is a grand case and, like you, I find it very difficult to believe that he was guilty, though most people assume that he was, just, I suppose, because they cannot think of anybody else to fix the murder on. I am sending you the only full published account there is; don’t trouble to return this copy as I happen to have an extra one. I have had one or two interesting letters since the publication of Anatomy of Murder3 from people who knew Wallace, all agreeing that he was probably innocent. One of them makes the interesting comment that, if Wallace had been the murderer, it would have been better for him to fix up a genuine appointment for the Tuesday night rather than trust to an imaginary one.

  With all good wishes,

  Yours very sincerely,

  [Dorothy L. Sayers]

  1 John Dickson Carr (1906– 1977), detective novelist.

  2 Pseudonym of Major C. J. C. Street, detective novelist (1884–1965). D. L. S. acknowledges his help “with all the hard bits” in Have His Carcase.

  3 The Anatomy of Murder, Famous Crimes Considered Critically by Members of the Detection Club, first published by John Lane, Bodley Head, November 1936. D. L. S. contributed “The Murder of Julia Wallace”, pp. 157–211.

  24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex

  TO MAURICE BROWNE1

  12 March 1937

  Dear Mr Browne,

  Thank you so much for your letter. Pray assure everybody that there is not the slightest truth in the suggestion that I am leaving Mr Gollancz. In these cases the wish is always the father to the rumour. Console Mr Pinker by reminding him that his firm turned down my first book!2

  Yours very sincerely,

  Dorothy L. Sayers

  1 Maurice Browne (1881–1955), actor-manager and dramatist. See also letters to him, 4 May, 31 December 1936, Letters of Dorothy L. Sayers: 1899–1936, pp. 389–391, 414.

  2 i.e. her first novel, Whose Body?. Her first book, Op. I, a volume of poetry, was published by Basil Blackwell.

  as from 24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex

  TO HER SON

  17 March 1937

  Dear John,

  I have been dreadfully neglectful all this term. But there has been nothing to tell you about, except that I have been having a terribly busy time, running about the place, coping with business connected with the play and one thing and another, and nearly dead with tiredness every night.

  How have things been? Is the tiresome History getting any better? I hoped to be able to come down and see Mr Tendall this term, but I simply can’t manage it – not even the party; I have to be at the other end of the country that day. I shall just have to write.1

  I hope it hasn’t been so bitterly cold with you as it has here. Nothing but rain, snow, sleet and frightful winds – and now the floods out all over the Fens where I used to live. I had to be at Cambridge2 the other day – it was snowing heavily and melting off the roofs. Wherever one went, wet avalanches fell off the roofs onto one’s only respectable hat! I think we had all better go to bed and hibernate for a twelvemonth.

  I can’t think of anything really amusing that has happened – except that on the 100th performance of the play,3 the management invited a number of more or less safe and respectable “crooks” to see the show; and I am told that in the second interval, a couple of skilled pickpockets cleverly removed Mr Arundell’s braces from his body without his knowledge, so that he had to play the last act in the horrid expectation of suddenly becoming undressed in public! Fortunately, nothing so alarming happened, but we all sat upon tenterhooks!

  With love,

  Your affectionate Mother,

  D. L. Fleming

  1 John Anthony was now 13 years old and at a preparatory school in Kent. Plans for his entry to a public school were in hand.

  2 See letter to James Passant, 19 January 1937, note 1.

  3 i.e. Busman’s Honeymoo
n.

  [24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex]

  TO MARGARET BABINGTON

  30 March 1937

  Dear Miss Babington,

  Many thanks for your letter and for the various proofs; the galleys of the play I have corrected and sent back to Mr Goulden. The corrections I have made are chiefly literals, together with one or two minor alterations and cuts. I have not tried to make any important modifications since I understand that Mr Goulden is only printing page galleys for use by the actors, and will wait to get the cuts decided upon in rehearsal before putting his galleys into forme. The preliminary announcement for the Chronicle seems to me excellent, although I should hesitate to lay claim to inspiration! The only point which does strike me is this: I wonder whether it is wise, from the point of view of dramatic effect, to let people know beforehand too much about the details of the last scene. When Mr Irving was discussing the play with me on my last visit, he was very anxious that no earlier scene should anticipate Michael’s speech in scene 4 about the sin of pride. He felt, I think, that it would be more interesting for the audience to work out for themselves what sin it was for which William was punished amid the conflicting theories put forward by Theodatus and the other characters. I do not know how far this point of view is justified, but one or two theatrically minded people have said that they thought the play gained some advantage as a play from the fact that the majority of people would not know the whole ending beforehand as they did in the case of Becket1 and Cranmer.2 In fact, Mr Harcourt Williams went so far, at the reading, as to say he thought it a pity to remind people beforehand about William’s accident – but this we can scarcely do anything about, since the account is printed and is known to all the Friends of Canterbury. However, since these suggestions have been made to me, I put them before you without prejudice. Perhaps it might be a good thing to ask Mr Irving whether he feels that the inclusion in the extracts of William’s speech about pride is advisable or not.

  Pickpocket and cast of Busman’s Honeymoon

  I hope you have had a pleasant Easter in spite of the miscellaneous kind of weather we have had, and that you are beginning to see to the end of your casting difficulties. I am looking forward to seeing you all on the 12th; Mrs Irving has very kindly promised to give me hospitality at the Black Windmill.

  Yours very sincerely,

  [Dorothy L. Sayers]

  P.S. I am looking forward to seeing the photograph of the Choir.

  1 A reference to T. S. Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral.

  2 A reference to Charles Williams’ Thomas Cranmer of Canterbury.

  24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex

  TO SIR DONALD TOVEY1

  3 April 1937

  Dear Sir Donald,

  I hope you will accept, as some small return for the many charming gifts you have made me, this copy of a little exercise in pastiche done by my friend Helen Simpson and myself.2

  Peter and Harriet are still holding their honeymoon at the Comedy Theatre, and the book on the same theme will be out probably towards the end of next month.3

  With best wishes,

  Yours sincerely,

  Dorothy L. Sayers

  1 Professor Sir Donald Tovey (1875–1940), musicologist and composer. He much admired the Wimsey novels. (See The Letters of Dorothy L. Sayers: 1899–1936, pp. 317–318, 340–341, 361–362, 388–389.)

  2 Papers Relating to the Family of Wimsey, privately printed December 1936.

  3 See letter to Victor Gollancz, 17 January 1937, note 2.

  24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex

  TO B. S. STURGIS1

  9 April 1937

  Dear Miss Sturgis…

  I do not think, in view of Harriet’s financial position and Peter’s, a gift of body linen would be altogether appropriate, at any rate before marriage. You cannot – or at least you do not – purchase ready-made shirts in the Burlington Arcade2 unless it is from that rather peculiar shop at the upper end to which Peter’s sort of person does not go. Peter would always have his shirts made for him, and one could not very well go to his shirt maker and offer to pay his bill. Harriet’s shirt maker, on the other hand, would not be so startled by the paying of cash, since I imagine that she had only very recently taken to purchasing that kind of shirt. To buy them and pay cash in these conditions would merely mean that one would solemnly inspect about five dozen patterns of material, tell them to make up the same as the last lot, and write a cheque. Even this would horrify them quite sufficiently, but I do not suppose that Harriet had ever ventured to order so large a quantity before, and the satisfaction of writing a cheque for about forty pounds would soothe Harriet’s soul.… The shop is Lord’s on the right hand side as you go up from Piccadilly, but Peter’s shirts come, I fancy, from Drew’s just opposite, where those two nice little old-fashioned men dodder respectfully about you and where you can also get remarkably good ties.

  No; there is no connection between Mr. Tallboy3 and Talboys. It was. as a matter of fact, Miss Byrne who christened the house Talboys,4 and I had forgotten that there was a man of similar name in any of the books. Talboys is quite a common sort of name for an Elizabethan property.

  In strict chronological fact the Wimsey second generation has already appeared. The marriage took place on October 8th, 1935, and Bredon Delagardie Peter was born on October 15th, 1936. As, however, his birth occurred5 while we were all struggling with production difficulties and rehearsals, no announcement was made of this at the time, especially as the play might have confused people’s minds by making it appear that the birth appeared before the honeymoon! By an entertaining coincidence we cast Dennis Arundell for Peter on the anniversary of the wedding, and finished casting on the anniversary of the birth.

  I am so glad your colleague made acquaintance with the 5 Red Herring country,6 it is a very pretty part of Scotland. Eighty miles an hour along the Kirkcudbright–Gatehouse road is quite correct; my husband has done it, but I can assure you that it is not comfortable to be the passenger on such an occasion.

  You will have heard from Christine7 that the Busman is still going strong and everybody seems very happy about it. Her performance has received so much praise from everybody; we were terribly lucky to get her to do that part, which very few people could pull off.

  It is very kind of you to write, and I am so glad that Lord Peter and his Harriet have found so many friends in the University.

  Yours sincerely,

  Dorothy L. Sayers

  1 A correspondent in Toronto, identity unknown.

  2 A smart and expensive shopping area off Piccadilly.

  3 The murderer in Murder Must Advertise.

  4 The house where Lord Peter and Harriet spend their honeymoon (in Busman’s Honeymoon).

  5 See “The Haunted Policeman”, short story first published in Harper’s Bazaar (New York), vol. 73, February 1938, pp. 62–63, 130–135; and in U.K. in The Strand Magazine, March 1938, pp. 483–494.

  6 i.e. the setting of the novel, The Five Red Herrings.

  7 Christine Silver (1883–1960), who played the part of Miss Twitterton in Busman’s Honeymoon.

  [24 Newland Street

  Witham

  Essex]

  TO M. MOSLEY1

  18 April 1937

  Dear Miss Mosley,

  Nothing will induce me to pretend that there is anything unpleasant about making a success of one’s books, or about making money from them. The writer’s job is a soft one, and success in it entails no crucifixion of any kind. The only thing that is sometimes tiresome about it is, that people usually think you are a great deal richer than you are; I am not rich, I wish I were, but so long as my work provides me with a “genteel sufficiency”, I have no quarrel with it.

  Yours faithfully,

  [Dorothy L. Savers]

  1 Identity unknown.

  [24 Newland Street

  Witham

  E
ssex]

  TO DOROTHY ROWE1

  25 April 1937

  Dear Dorothy,

  Thank you ever so much for your letter. I am frightfully glad you really think well of the Canterbury play, in spite or because of its “logic”.2 I do feel that if one has to write a play on a religious subject, the only way to do it is to avoid wistful emotionalism, and get as much drama as one can out of sheer hard dogma. After all, nothing can be more essentially dramatic than Catholic doctrine; but it is all lost if one surrounds it with a vague cloud of let-us-all-feel-good-and-loving-and-God-won’t-mind-anything-much.

  I hope the action will arrange itself effectively on the steps and stage as they stand, since the Chapter House was built in the 14th century. I suppose we can scarcely blame the architects for not having provided suitable back-stage accommodation, but I do think that when people come to build things like the Hall at Bedford College,3 they might give one reasonable exits, a passage behind the back cloth and electrical equipment which does not have to be manipulated by a workman standing on his head beneath the stage, and unable to see or hear either the action on the stage or the frantic signals of the A.S.M.4

  Poor Muriel5 has wrestled with Bedford’s frightful conditions for some years. In her production of Tobias,6 a black-out could only be obtained by signalling from the back of the hall to a person down a passage, who then waved a handkerchief to a person standing by the switch at the end of another passage. On the occasion when I was there, it was not obtained.

  Reassure yourself about the screens; they are permanent structures of wood and canvas designed and built in by Laurence Irving. On the left-hand side is a cramped space where half a dozen people can easily stand together if they are thin and hold their breaths; on the right-hand side, a narrow passage and awkward staircase lead to something which I have not yet dared to investigate, but where, I believe, performers can be got on and off in sufficient numbers, and from which they can, by running very hard, escape, to appear again at the bottom of the building, after traversing most of the Cathedral and Cloisters.