大象传媒

Sunday Morning
[August 1944]

Dear Janie C.

This is just a note for it is quiet at the moment here but I don鈥檛 know how long it will last as such. I鈥檓 enclosing a chemical caricature which should draw a giggle from the crowd.

The happier days of the war seem at hand now鈥攊t seems almost impossible that at one time the Germans pounded the armies of Europe in pulp along the western front. Now we can see what lack of faith can do in all its horror. While on pass the other evening I had a chance to see one of three presentations鈥攁 stage play鈥攐f unknown quality鈥斺�淔or Whom the Bell Tolls鈥濃�攁nd 鈥淣one Shall Escape鈥�. I find myself embarrassed at stage plays for I am somehow conscious of the acting and if it is at all bad I suffer terribly鈥攕o I avoid stage plays. Ernest Hemingway I have never read but your description of his book decided me to boycott his movie鈥攖he point is that I didn鈥檛 know what was on at the last movie until it started. I guess most people who see 鈥淣one Shall Escape鈥� will feel like muttering 鈥減ropaganda鈥�. Yes鈥攎aybe it is鈥攎aybe. But as bad as it presents the story of Poland, it is probably not overly brutal to the facts.

The other day I read in an English editorial where the people of Britain should be grateful for not having the trials of the people on the continent鈥攖hat is a strange melody when things are as they are over here even.

Summer will soon be giving away [sic] to fall, Janie. You know, there is something very remarkable about living in a new climactic environment. Here, I鈥檝e watched the procession of insects, birds, flowers and days鈥攖he wings of butterflies are becoming a little more ragged鈥攖here are fewer fledglings鈥攖he blackberries are losing their petals now to swelling fruit鈥攂ut it all goes on without the one important gauge of passing summer鈥攖he cricket. No crickets here to speed the coming of the fall; of course, golden rod and iron weed always come before the frost鈥攖he milkweed turning to snow鈥攖he lightly coloring maples鈥攖he thinning of the tadpole swarms; the slow drift of the monarch butterfly to the south from Canada鈥檚 Hudson Bay鈥攁ll them told me mutely in their hour that fall was coming鈥攂ut the cricket鈥攈e sang all day to everyone鈥攁nd all night, too. Here, strangely enough, the visual signs of summer鈥檚 coming of age are appearing鈥攂ut I haven鈥檛 experienced fall here yet and so I don鈥檛 know what beastie is the chosen herald of summer鈥檚 end. I love the fall, perhaps best of all鈥攊t thrills me to feel it blowing through memories鈥攂ut I guess after thinking a moment, I love all seasons best when I can put my feet away from the sidewalks and paths of my fellow beings for a few hours.

This is short, but could it serve for now? Till later. Good luck and most sincerely,

Yours,

Bill

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