LETTERS from James & Orpha: contents
mad in pursuit home
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Wednesday 8.4.26, from Orpha in Glens Falls NY
It is all a paradox, this waiting time. For me to decide, as I can do only in my calmer moments, in a rational way, that we must not meet until the time when there can be everything – is a paradox, for it is with me like living without body or soul, living as a mere perception of starvation, a feeling of unsatiated, gnawing hunger. As the days approach the time you shall come, it is more and more difficult for me to live restrainedly. I live with clenched fists and tightening teeth – for it is effort and supreme exertion alone that make it possible for me to endure separation. I find that in hard work and constant activity only can I deaden temporarily my longing for you – longing that in times of relaxation and abandon nearly drives me mad. At night, I toss and turn for hours before I can go to sleep – then it is in a heavy stupor, disturbed by dreams, that I find any rest.
And it is not only wanting that I feel now – but wanting to give – to give to you all of me – to accept the mastery I have long since recognized of your every part – body, soul, mind over me. The change you speak of in me is manifest in that – and I am knowing you, even in absence, more fully, each day. I understand the discrimination in the power you exert over me – and that which I shall come to exert over you, when I shall have developed further, when I shall have wholly become the thing you want – the being your dream saw last spring, the being you gave birth to last winter thru suffering. You respond to the change in me and I am glad. We shall find expression in one another of Beauty – yes, I know – I feel now, James, you will know soon, how deep is the change.
Sometimes I can scarcely prevent myself from running from people, from common suggestions in them, from the things I am coming to abhor. I cannot bear to be near people or see them, when I am so close to you.
And so, perhaps, it is hard to decide this – we must not see one another again – I shall be wholly yours then – I want to guard our living Flame from any imperfection until there need be no restraint – no horror as there was here. To all that you have asked, have wondered of my wanting, I answer, all of me is crying for you, desiring you, passionately, glad to be suppliant before you, wishing to accept your mastery, craving to give and give to you – retaining nothing.
Orpha
If there were anything I might suggest to help you solve any of your multitudinous quandaries, I’d do so, but I’m afraid I’d be hindrance or a joke rather than assistance. I’ve a smock tho,’ for next fall – to paint in – so do save some for me to do.
I’ve finished Chimes and am returning it. I’ve “taken notes” on it – marginal comments – hence the length of time I’ve consumed. Then, too, I’m working – I have to. This week I’m doing two week’s washing , to test my newly gained strength, to tire myself so that I can sleep, and to help me bear this -- my hands are raw, I’ve only primitive means, a washboard, etc. I shan’t mind washing rugs next fall, after this.
Mom’s consulting a doctor tomorrow about my operation. This case promises to be interminable, so she’ll be getting relief during my time of need. She’s almost afraid to have it done – don’t know why – she’s a bit afraid of something.
There are millions of things to consult you about concerning affairs here – but – I shall have to write them all to you – about cards, dates, and all.
I envy you the radio – I’ve only that next door piano, you know –
and my poor attempts at music.
Simeon Strunsky knows things, doesn’t he? “His oats,” I suppose you’d
say – words words words words…
"the being you gave birth to last winter thru suffering": James had been laid up for nearly 3 weeks in the college infirmary during the month of March -- an ailment referred to as the grippe -- probably influenza, a very scary ailment in those days after the great pandemic.
"my operation": the tonsillectomy
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