Has not replied to the various letters about the Academy [of Arts and Letters] because of incapacity to right hand. But now can sign her name, at least. Is pleased by his review of the new book. Shares his doubt about the epilogue, but it was important to her. Willa Cather [Stout #1524]
Hand in splints again. Appreciates her words of sympathy about the reviews of Sapphira and the Slave Girl, but is used to it. New York reviewers say every time that her new book is not as good as the previous one. If that were true, they should have dropped into the abyss by now. There were only two good reviews of My Ántonia in the whole country, by Fanny Butcher and by Grant Overton. Is asking Miss Bloom to enclose Henry Seidel Canby's review of Sapphira. Actually, the reviews Knopf has sent for her to read have seemed surprisingly good. Willa Cather [Stout #1529]
Is leaving soon to spend the autumn in New Hampshire, so is quite busy packing. Received a lovely letter from Marion Dix which was full of details that Jan failed to mention—typical of men. To respond to Edith's queries: Isabelle's will, which she established in 1936, names Jan as the only heir and executor. So, he is entitled to everything, including the decision about her place of burial (Isabelle and Edith's brother Alfred ought to know this). Cannot remember Isabelle ever commenting on her preference for a burial place, but Jan would know and will certainly follow her wishes. Is saddened by the news of Edith's eye trouble and hopes it isn't a dreary cataract. After more time has passed, wants to have a good conversation with Edith. Send Alfred regards. Willa Cather
Does not lecture anymore, so must refuse his invitation. Has been meaning to write an extended letter to him about his book, which she read closely. Concurs with him generally, but feels he inflates the importance of many of the New York critics. Only Randolph Bourne and, to a degree, Mr. Canby had the essential innate sense of quality needed by critics. Consider, for example, Stuart Sherman (nothing personal to Sherman, as he always treated her well), who did not have such a sensibility. He could research a writer and say many valid things about him or her, but it was an external product of scholarship. To put it another way: if she mixed up a few pages of Nigger of the Narcissus with some of Joseph Conrad's respectable imitators (like Francis Brett Young), Sherman wouldn't know the difference. A critic must be more than idealistic and hardworking. In fact, a good deal of first-rate criticism was done by non-professional critics like Henry James, Walter Pater, and Prosper Mérimée (particularly his essay on Gogol). Not all good writers are good critics; Turgenev was not. That said, writers are the best at evaluating new writing and composers are the top critics of new music, or at least they are better than scholars. Since she wants to say this and so much more, she knows that his book was successful, as a reader's fierce engagement with a book's ideas is always a mark of accomplishment. P. S.: [dated January 20] After writing letter, was asked not to send it by secretary, who thought it would needlessly offend people. Secretary is now on vacation in Cuba, and has decided to risk sending it. Feels that he won't be indiscreet with the letter, even to his talkative publisher. Willa Cather
