Well I have 30 lines of Romeo and Juliet to learn for tomorrow.
Love
Bill
story of mine: perhaps “Suffer the Little Children,” which didn’t appear in the next issue (1 April) but the one after that (15 May). Or WG could be referring to one of the short fables he was publishing at the time.
‘As Time Goes By’: 1931 song by Herman Hupfeld (1931) popularized in the movie Casablanca (1942).
To Edith Gaddis
The Harvard Lampoon, Inc.
Cambridge 28, Massachusetts
[27 February 1944]
Dear Mother—
Sunday — and the first chance I have had to write — really it has been quite a week!
Exams all last week of course — only two — but they lasted all week — and after being up for four nights it was quite a feeling Thursday with the ‘press’ lifted and really nothing to worry about.
The Poon had its final tremendous affair for the season — and really for all time, since so many are leaving. A very pleasant dinner at the Pudding and then the dance — of course I got mixed up and went to a punch and forgot to get my black shoes from the shoemaker whom I’d taken them to be shined — so I ended with tuxedo and those dirty white buckskins.
Peter Jenks — don’t know whether I’ve mentioned him — he did the drawings for my poem — has left, and everything looks sort of blue — and then that woman being in Florida — if only she might have been up for the Poon dance — because it was the last of the neat ones. […]
Everyone it seems is going to New York — all I hear is ‘See you in Larue’ (a 58th St. spot!) and I’ll probably get pretty fed up with this. I would like to get home before it goes(!) — and if it will be easier for you I certainly think it’s the only thing to do. Perhaps next weekend? I don’t know. I do want to get a pair of shoes — and the ballet is so important — as she is. Don’t know about scholarship — but I might as well get the beneficiary business — and perhaps borrow something from them. Will write again when I get a little further with $ matters. […]
Love
Bill
Peter Jenks […] my poem: Jenks illustrated WG’s poem beginning “Once came upon a quiet college town” in the 11 February issue of the Lampoon.
this job: WG had just picked up a part-time job “taking attendance.”
Larue: one of the most fashionable restaurants of the time.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[5 April 1944]
dear Mother
well it never seems to end. it is just like being seasick. after one bit of running excitement you don’t see how it can keep on, but it does. […] this elementary spanish is insidious; the abnormal psyc is good but a great amount of reading which as yet remains only touched, and an exam imminent; the social psyc is terrible — can you imagine, it seems to be a never ending discussion on politics, for which i see no reason and am beginning to dislike cordially. the short story course is the only thing that seems to be going evenly, but the fool wants the long (5000 word) story in about two weeks, right when hour exams come and the Lampoon deadline, which is really going to be bad and take time, since i seem to be the only one that holds it together and gets it moving. and must go down and read proofs for this issue very soon. […] well such are things now, if any of it has been clear. the only thing i am sure about at the moment is the way i am getting along with Her, which is singularly well.
Love
Bill
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[20 April 1944]
dear Mother
am slowly getting there — though i am not sure of the destination. i spent most of last week and up for two nights studying for a spanish and then a psychology hour exam, and up until after 5 this a m writing my long story for english a 4.
and over it hangs this Lampoon—supposedly a deadline this week but hardly any one is coming around or doing anything, and so tonight i plan to spend trying to put it partially together and filling in prose, though i hardly feel like writing anything clever and witty. […]
affairs with the Campbell girl are coming along very well. that is all i am certain of.
Love
WG at Harvard, sitting center of the first row, 1944. (Photo by Chester T. Holbrook)
this Lampoon: the 15 May issue has nine contributions by WG: an editorial, two stories, two poems, two drawings, an essay, and a facetious crossword puzzle.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[28 November 1944]
dear Mother
you must not bandy that term ‘free and gay’ about so unadvisably. i am on probation, and have lost my room permission among other things BUT (well this deserves a new paragraph):
Olsen and Jonson have a show in Boston, and they and their company of chorines etc. came out to the ’Poon Sunday afternoon at the invitation of one of our old (class of ’01) members. we entertained them to the best of our abilities and i came out quite well. Olsen (Jonson didn’t show up) talked with me or rather to me for some time. and finally ended by asking me to come to the show as his guest, take notes on it, and write him a report of my reactions! critic! haha. and (This deserves a new one too):
one of the young ladies showed a rather abnormal rate of intelligence and we talked at length; she intends to leave and go onto Life magazine one of her ‘dearest friends’ is foreign editor of Life etc. at any rate she is very nice and wants to come out and look Harvard over seriously and so forth. so i am left little choice. she has been a torch singer too. do i sound 18 yrs old? i guess. but do not be concerned. as you have no doubt guessed she is a bit taller than your son, and i feel pretty self conscious with her. i went back stage last night and was very impressed, or intrigued at least.
it is the biggest thing that has happened to the ’Poon in some time.
thanx for the $. what with probation and three papers to write (and Jean expects to come down in December) i am not going to make Vermont [for Thanksgiving]. anyhow do not be concerned — this is all harmless and quite exciting. of course old ’Poonsters are saying ‘while the cat’s away. .’ but that is very silly.
Much Love
B
Olsen and Jonson: Ole Olsen and Chic Johnson, a vaudeville act best known for their Hellzapoppin’ satiric revue. In 1976, William H. Gass praised J R for its Hellzapoppin’ energy when giving it the National Book Award.
To Edith Gaddis
Cambridge, Massachusetts
[7 December 1944]
dear Mother—
not having heard from you for some time — specifically, not since i wrote you about having met this dancer, Miss Henderson. i am not worried, and ascribe it to your probably having a pretty difficult time getting settled in town etc. but i hope there is a letter tomorrow condoning, not mentioning, or even mild censure. Where are you living? and what arrangements? i hope it’s all all right.