Skip to main content

#1158: Willa Cather to Dorothy Canfield Fisher, [late January 1933]

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⬩ My Dearest Dorothy1;

Of course I'd rather have you do such an article3 than anyone else, and they've been after me through several people who knew nothing at all about me. I'm fairly sick of this legend4 of a pale creature who has sacrificed her life to art. I never in my life made a sacrifice to 'art'. Even as to teaching5, I simply taught because I found it l less distasteful than newspaper work6. All my life I've shoved away the less agreeable for the more agreeable. The things w that really attracted me were so much more attractive that I never found it at all hard to push aside the minor attractions, even when they were very pleasant. I've lead a life of self-indulgence, if ever anybody did. I wanted to see the world a bit and meet all sorts of people, so I spent five years7 on McClure's8 doing it. When I'd had enough, I stopped. I expect I'eve spent as much time hearing music as most people do spend on their profession- - - pure self indulgence. This is the truth, you know. So please don't make me either noble or pathetic. Of course , in youth, when one is poor, one struggles; but what else is youth o for? If one were rich and buried under tutors and 'advantages', there would be another kind of struggle. And I never shut myself away from the people I cared for, you know that. I shut out the crowd to be 'all there' with my friends.

Hastily but lovingly Willa