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4.06 AVERAGE
4.06 AVERAGE
emotional
hopeful
slow-paced
Dear Graham Greene,
I am very snug. I too feel over-awed without my books, I can’t relate to those folks who do not read them. I have gotten enough out of your letters to know that you are a patrician of the lettered. You have reviewed a good deal of books, and I understand the presentiment you had about not finishing any book you had begun, since we don’t deserve you. I have given effort to the craft of entertaining, what I qualify as quality entertainment is of thoughts and such that plunder out the ire of our substantiation.
You wrote, “justice is more hateful because it emphasizes our inferiority.”
I envy those times when letters were proper form, and more common, letters to friends and people who are working for You. It appears to have been a lost art, and one needs a large oikos to facilitate them. Though it makes a pleasurable reading experience, with an air of sophistication quite dissimilar from fiction; sometimes they reveal certain eccentricities of You, the Author, that you share with hardy salutations! How was your lunch with Neruda, for example, and what did you eat? Was there cheese 🧀 involved? ‘I like sonnets too - but rather as I like cheese.’ 🧀 Your evening with Brian Moore at the striptease joint was a real hoot. To Kurt Vonnegut, I hope that one date our paths may cross physically. I like the bridge you make between general boredom and movement, as in planning a small trip together somewhere queer. You speak of genius, Graham, as psychologically descriptive… tho my genii 🧞♂️ pales before you and of all Great people.
To Vivien Greene your wife and most adored pussy willow, I glean that very compassionate and love deeper than quagmires go. Why, though, do you write so affectionately to Vivien, Your wife, and to Catherine, your mistress, and Catherine, “I’d love to preen my feathers in front of you.” You speak of disloyalty, “Disloyalty is our privilege. But it is a privilege you will never get society to recognize. All the more necessary that we who can be disloyal with impunity should keep that ideal alive.”
Life is really too horribly funny. Greene on the peake.
Affectionately,
Blake
I am very snug. I too feel over-awed without my books, I can’t relate to those folks who do not read them. I have gotten enough out of your letters to know that you are a patrician of the lettered. You have reviewed a good deal of books, and I understand the presentiment you had about not finishing any book you had begun, since we don’t deserve you. I have given effort to the craft of entertaining, what I qualify as quality entertainment is of thoughts and such that plunder out the ire of our substantiation.
You wrote, “justice is more hateful because it emphasizes our inferiority.”
I envy those times when letters were proper form, and more common, letters to friends and people who are working for You. It appears to have been a lost art, and one needs a large oikos to facilitate them. Though it makes a pleasurable reading experience, with an air of sophistication quite dissimilar from fiction; sometimes they reveal certain eccentricities of You, the Author, that you share with hardy salutations! How was your lunch with Neruda, for example, and what did you eat? Was there cheese 🧀 involved? ‘I like sonnets too - but rather as I like cheese.’ 🧀 Your evening with Brian Moore at the striptease joint was a real hoot. To Kurt Vonnegut, I hope that one date our paths may cross physically. I like the bridge you make between general boredom and movement, as in planning a small trip together somewhere queer. You speak of genius, Graham, as psychologically descriptive… tho my genii 🧞♂️ pales before you and of all Great people.
To Vivien Greene your wife and most adored pussy willow, I glean that very compassionate and love deeper than quagmires go. Why, though, do you write so affectionately to Vivien, Your wife, and to Catherine, your mistress, and Catherine, “I’d love to preen my feathers in front of you.” You speak of disloyalty, “Disloyalty is our privilege. But it is a privilege you will never get society to recognize. All the more necessary that we who can be disloyal with impunity should keep that ideal alive.”
Life is really too horribly funny. Greene on the peake.
Affectionately,
Blake
emotional
informative
reflective
slow-paced
An approach to the biography that is appreciated, allowing the reader to see the heights of Greene's humor and compassion, as well as the depths of his depression. His honesty can be refreshing at times, at other times uncomfortable. After a while, though, reading this feels less like a biography and more like obsessively poring through somebody's mail.
A fascinating insight into the man behind the words. Surprising how many famous people he knew. The Philby letters are without a doubt the most interesting.