Skip to main content

#0982: Willa Cather to Zona Gale, October 16 [1929]

More about this letter…
Plain view:

Guide to Reading Letter Transcriptions

Some of these features are only visible when "plain text" is off.

Textual Feature Appearance
passage deleted with a strikethrough mark deleted passage
passage deleted by overwritten added letters overwritten passage
passage added above the line passage with added text above
passage added on the line passage with added text inline
passage added in the margin passage with text added in margin
handwritten addition to a typewritten letter typed passage with added handwritten text
missing or unreadable text missing text noted with "[illegible]"
uncertain transcriptions word[?]
notes written by someone other than Willa Cather Note in another's hand
printed letterhead text printed text
text printed on postcards, envelopes, etc. printed text
text of date and place stamps stamped text
passage written by Cather on separate enclosure. written text
⬩W⬩S⬩C⬩ Dear Zona Gale1;

I have just got back from a little motor trip to find your wonderful letter awaiting me. I don't know when anything has pleased me so much as the thought—(the overwhelming proof, indeed!) that you would like me for a neighbor. Oh how I wish I could take the next train for Portage3!

A few weeks after I dined with you in New York4 last winter, my mother5 had a stroke in California6 where she was visiting my brother7. Since then I have lived chiefly on various trans-continental railroads. My mother is completely paralyzed on her right side and almost speechless. My sister8 and brother are with her all the time, she has every care and attention in the world, but when she wants me and begins to fret, I simply have to go. I last left her in June, to come East and take a degree from Yale9, since then I have ben been at my little cottage on Grand Manan island10, off the coast of New Brunswick11, getting rested and even getting a little work done. But at any time now I may have to start off on the long trail for Pasadena12—certainly before Christmas. I will be here—it's a lovely place—a few weeks longer, then go to New York to attend to business matters before I start West. So you see, for all your kindness, a happy working winter in your father13's home is as much out of my power as a winter on another planet. But I'll always keep the picture of it, it looks so spacious and high-minded and really American. (Oh the good American things are so good!) Perhaps after I get back to New York I might see some way to drop down in Portage either before or after California. I'll write you what the outlook is when I get back to town—and you may be in New York yourself in November.

⬩W⬩S⬩C⬩

No, I hadn't heard of your father's death—you were telling me a good deal about him that evening at the Gotham, and he was then very well. Those who get out of the world quickly, as your father and mine14 did, are the favorites of Fate. An illness like my mother's takes the courage out of one.

But, som do you know, I have a feeling that sometime I'll get to Portage, for a few months, anyway. The thought that you'd like to have me there, in a home so dear to you, would make me feel a reason for being there, and I'd try to live up to the house,—which, as I say, looks singularly high-minded. Someday, when I'm less in disgrace with Fortune15, I'm going to get there.

I'll write you from New York, and will be, probably, at The Grosvenor16, 35 Fifth Ave., but Knopf is the safest address. Knopf17 hasn't sent me your new book18 yet, confound him,—but he will. I expect I've been jumping about too much.

Dear Lady, at a time when I am low in mind, your letter gives me cheer and hope.

Faithfully yours, Willa Cather