[No surviving envelope]

I found your kind letter of the 21st April on my return last Saturday. I was very tired after my ten days’ labours, and developed a cold immediately on returning, so that for several days I was idle and stupefied. Itravels, trips and plansTSE's postponed 1948 trip to Aix;g4recounted;a4 think that the expedition went off very well, thoughtravels, trips and plansTSE's 1948 trip to America;g5;a5 I am thankful I have no other until I sail for America in late September. I flew to Marseilles, arriving an hour late, in the middle of the afternoon, to be taken direct to a reception which was being given, at the Chamber of Commerce, to a party of 30 Oxford undergraduates who had been spending three weeks at Aix:1 a deafening din, and an odd mixture of people talking French and English, with a radio blaring dance music in a vain attempt to get the young people to dance. ThenFluchère, Henrias TSE's companion in Aix;a9 to Fluchère’s flat in Marseilles, and thence to dine at the house of an elderly lady who had been a colleague of his in the resistance – they forged passports etc. in a shed in the garden. OnFrancethe South;b9;a4 a hill overlooking the city and harbour – a wonderful view through olive trees – and the frogs croaking away like mad – I felt that I was really in the South. The pleasantest part of the tour was the next three days, which we spent at the little house of Fluchère’s mother – an old lady of 87 who lives quite alone on the outskirts of Ste. Tulle, a tiny village in the foothills of the Alps, two hours from Marseilles. The old lady cooked a most excellent leg of lamb (which she had taken some trouble to get) seasoned with garlic, and was very proud of the wine, the raisins, and the almonds all produced from her own acre or so of garden. Two days were spent visiting rather out-of-the-way, but lovely villages in the Basses-Alpes, withDelorne, Claude;a1 two friends of his, M. and Madame Delorme,2 whom he had pressed into service because of their having a car: everywhere being introduced to the mayor (who is undistinguishable from any other peasant hanging about the local Grande Place) and usually having a drink with him at a café. We dined one evening with the Préfet des Basses-Alpes, who dwells in some grandeur in a shiny bright palazzo in the town of Digne, which is a long way up the valley of the Durance. Thende Gaulle, Charlesat Marseilles;a2 returned to Marseilles in the evening of Sunday, after the visit of De Gaulle to Marseilles was over:3 the city then very quiet, as well it might be, crammed with Gardes Mobiles with armoured cars and every sort of fire-arms. MondayLes Cahiers du Sud;a1, a reception by the magazine Les Cahiers du Sud – two small rooms with twice as many people as could have comfortably got in; inAlliance FrançaiseTSE gives lecture to;a3 the afternoon gave my lecture in French to the Alliance Française4 (a reporter accompanied us there on the tram, in order to continue his interview) – after the lecture I had to go to a bookshop to sign copies of the French translations of my books for those customers who came to buy them – a most fatiguing duty, as you have to write the name of the purchaser in the book as well as your autograph: this went on for about an hour and a half – then to a most amazingly delicious dinner at the Club des Amis du Vieux-Port – got to bed about one – I forgot to mention that I had also done a ‘radio interview’ at a local broadcasting station in the morning. OnUniversity of Aix-en-Provenceeventually confers degree on TSE;a1 Tuesday, a car was sent from the University to take us to Aix – a large and elaborate lunch at a big hotel, and I have not the slightest recollection of more than three or four of the people present, given by the Rector of the University: after'Edgar Poe et la France'finally delivered at Aix;a8 that I was put in the office of the Dean of the English Faculty to ‘repose myself’ before my lecture; then my same lecture, but this time in English, in a small but very crowded hall; and immediately afterwards, the degree conferred upon myself and upon a Swiss Professor who could not speak, because he had had his vocal chords removed some years before – but his daughter read his speech for him, and I read my ‘discours’ of thanks, in French.5 A little tippet of red and yellow silk, adorned with rabbit’s fur, is laid on your shoulder, and there you are. ThenFranceTSE describes a typical French reception;a8 we moved off to another reception (always, in France, sticky sweet drinks and little cakes) at the local Allies’ Club, with a babel of people. Invariably, on such occasions in such places, one meets a few English and American exiles who have been living there for 30 years – the only other person I remember was a funny little gentleman – conspicuous simply because he was so obviously a gentleman and because he was so exceptionally insignificant in appearance otherwise – who asked me whether my family came from Toulouse? I said my name was undoubtedly French, but that I had never heard our origins attributed to Toulouse. It then appeared that his great-grandmother had been named Eliot and her family came from Toulouse, but they were now extinct. May I ask whom I am speaking to? I said politely. Le Marquis de Castillane [sc. Castellane], he replied with some dignity.6 AfterFranceParis;b7post-war;a8 that we were driven back to Marseilles, fetched our bags, supped at the railway station, andtravels, trips and plansTSE's postponed 1948 trip to Aix;g4home via Paris;a5 took the night train to Paris. No taxis – or rather, not enough taxis, at the Gare de Lyon, so Fluchère engaged a porter who for the sum of 500 francs and his métro ticket, carried our bags for us, and a low price I think it was. I found myself in a small hotel in Passy, as Fluchère was staying at his sister-in-law’s flat near by. The food is good in Paris restaurants (though, after Provence, I complain that there is not enough garlic in it) and at a price slightly more than you would pay in London you get a very much more appetising meal. That is to say, the food is more expensive, but the wine is very much cheaper, and the beer is palatable. It is much easier than two years ago – when all the decent restaurants were semi-speakeasy, and you could hardly get into one unless you had a personal introduction to the proprietor. I naturally saw as many of the people it was my duty to see, as was possible in the time: another reception, this by my Paris publishers – again, hundreds of people crowded into two small rooms; no ‘radio interview’ – but on Friday morning, four reporters in succession, mostly wanting to know my views on the most delicate political topics, and all anxious to impute to me views which I wished to disown – thisSpeaight, Robertmisrepresents TSE's views;e6 situation made more difficult (1) by the fact that Robert Speaight had been in Paris a few days before, and had given a lecture about me (in French at that) in which [he] had attributed to me various opinions which I had tactfully to water down – thank goodness he is now off to Canada, where I suppose however he will continue to present garbled versions of my views in both languages; (2) by the fact that there was a young man with a red beard drawing my portrait the whole time. WentAymé, MarcelLucienne et le Boucher;a1 to the theatre once – Monsieur Badel, the proprietor of the Vieux Colombier, where ‘Meurtre dans la Cathédrale’ was produced two years ago, gave us tickets to a curious – and I thought, very poor – play called ‘Lucienne et le Boucher’.7 Then on Saturday back to London by the Golden Arrow.

Well, I hope that it has served its purpose of adding one spot of cement to Anglo-French relations. Certainly, French Universities do not give honorary degrees to foreigners lavishly. It’s a centimetre more in ‘Who’s Who’ – ‘D. ès L. (Aix-Marseilles)’. AndBritish Council;b6 it was suggested to me that my turning up in Paris in this way, privately (financed partly by the Treasury, who, under pressure from my bank manager, allowed me to spend £20 of my own money) would do more good than my going there as an agent of the British Council. It will have cost me about £40, a great loss of working time, a heavy cold and considerable fatigue and wear and tear; and the only motive and justification is its wee contribution to the unity of Western Europe.

This has taken me two pages and a half; it is of no importance in our correspondence but is simply something I could not well omit mention of. ApartCocktail Party, Thebeing written;b5 from dealing with the accumulation of arrears at my office – but not so bad as it might have been – I have spent three mornings at my play, and have drafted the second scene: that is to say, I have completed one draft of the first act. But every development so far seems to create new problems for the rest of the play. And I find myself working on this one – for better or worse – in a different way from ‘The Family Reunion’: it is much more a matter of laying out the plot, with dialogue at the right length, first – of starting from the theatre end, instead of from the poetry end; the things I know I can do, will be the last to be done; so that I have no conviction that anything is right. The versification I can handle easily now, but the poetry – wellRacine, Jeanquoted on plotting;a1, if I do get anywhere by this method, I shall reach a point at which I can say like Racine, ‘il n’y a que les vers à faire’.

I shall stop here; but I shall write again rather sooner; certainlyMagdalene College, CambridgeWhitsun feast at;a6 before I go to Cambridge for Whitsun – theRamsey, Allen Beville;a1 occasion being the induction of the retired Master (who was always kind to me) as an Honorary Fellow.8

MrsMirrlees, Emily Lina ('Mappie', née Moncrieff)still just living;g3. M. is still living, by last reports – it is a miracle she has hung on as long, for she had the operation for gall-stone while I was away. ItMirrlees, Maj.-Gen. William Henry Buchanan ('Reay');b3 is a relief to know that her son is with her.