T. E. Lawrence Correspondence – Page 80

Letters from T. E. Shaw to John Brophy. 338171 A/C Shaw R.A.F. Mount Batten, Plymouth. 19.II.22. "Dear Brophy, Don't let's "X" each other. My past reputation can balance your present social superiority, and make us quite! I'm sorry about the essay. I have decided - in 1922 I decided - not to try to go on writing. Agreed that with my name on, it sells like tripe: but I've posted it anonymously to this editor and that, and got it all back again. Perhaps the emotion (in solution) in it made the Seven Pillars much better than the rest of my writing. Anyway they would not buy it, and I have had seven years without trying to write, and an all the easier for being spared the labour. I think I did write better than the average retired military man: but between that and 'writing' there is a gulf. I have talked to many whom I think great writers. All of them have a likeness in that they get some pleasure out of the phrases as they are born. Not the finished work, perhaps. Few look back with pleasure: but there is joy in the creation, and I had never anything but weariness and dissatisfaction. This I put down to my works being an imitation, made with great care and pains and judgment, of the real thing. So I gave it up, I hope finally. Not without having tried it well, you know. 1st book burned: 2nd (Seven Pillars) published privately: 3rd still in manuscript. God forbid there being a fourth. It is true that I do translations. My style is easy and correct, and the publishers may be well for uncostly or pseudonomous versions of French books and an occasional Greek, such as I am at now. The proceeds very usefully supplement my R.A.F. pay, which isn't enough for my motor bikes' costs, and they involve no publicity at all. Try some of the outside ring for your essays. There is Theodore Powys: Prescott Manning: Dairhi O'Cormyn: Alginarnor: H. P. Bates: Henry Williamson: Alas, there is such a storm shaking our roots and driving rain and sodd like small-shot against the iron walls that I cannot think of all the good writers still at work. I suppose you rule out Joyce, Lawrence, Douglas, Gerardi, Forster? There is such a rush of good books every year. I have read Peter Lavelle. The characters come well to life, in the middle of their lives, serving or in close themselves a little, and go back into the dark. I like your architect, and your Colonel: not your villain, or your Socialist, or the woman. The War Memorial, and the estates are well done. The book exists, indubitably. It is by that much different from many of the 20-30 writers, who seem to write for relief, as an anaeprobes pianist. I'm old-fashioned, and want my books to be so many square meals. The War Book I have not tackled yet. Ol'Flanerty has done a fine "Return of the Private" since you began work, and while on leave I saw Sasa O'Casey's "Jests", which is mag-nificent: unalloyed genius in Act II. Do see it, if you haven't yet. *