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Never was there such a jolly toy as this Chinese nightingale! He arrived in
perfect condition, a marvel of packing. But Zoë, it's my duty to tell you
that you can't trust Thorley's4
for anything but weddings and house decorations. The nature of the firm has
changed. The one clever woman who used to execute your orders is always out
of town2, doing weddings etc in
Greenwich5, Albany6. Last Easter a tremendous old man
in charge sent here for you an over-blown rose bush which I made him exchange for a gardenia. This Christmas eve
Thorleys sent three stalks of red lilies in a tub, all the leaves yellow,
and a large tag tag marked $15.00 hung on it. (To what noun does the
pronoun "it" refer, please?) That's the way they take care of orders. They
are not florists at all any more, but house decorators. You can't trust
them.
Some day soon, with the aid of a typewriter I'll try to tell you exactly what I so dislike7 in Mr. Dan Totheroh8's version of "A Lost Lady"9 and then at the same time I'll send you back the MS. I'm a little sad that you liked this thing with its
inhuman, unnatural speech, wholly out of character. You must have come to
the conclusion that anything can be done to a book in order to make A PLAY
out of it. Why so? Why in hell need it be made into a play AT ALL? Alex. Dumas fils10 was at least intelligent.
When he wanted to make a play11 out of his
novel "La Dame aux Camelias"12 he made an
altogether different thing: scrapped the narrative, an kept the characters and used them in a way
suitable for dramatic presentation. Why have
Mr. Totheroh and Mr. Donald X——13 gone
ahead and "dramatized" this book? Because they have very few ideas in their
own handsome heads, I imagine. I don't like O'Neil14, but at least this can be said for him, he makes his
distortions out of his own cocoanut, he doesn't go sniffing round in a file
of novels for them.——The Elizabethan playwrights made plays out of the old
chronicles & narratives, which merely gave a series of happenings, so
the dramatist really did "create" the characters. Well, there is another
side to every question. This is the way I feel. What with keeping my poor
books out of "omnibuses" and off the radio, and off the stage, I'm not
having much heart to write any new ones. Wasn't the King's15
speech16 fine? I do hope you heard it!
This seems to be a grumbly letter, scolding at florists and playwrights and the evil manners of the times. I surely don't mean to scold at you dear Zoë, except in so far as you are too willing to accept professional "put-overers" at their own valuation of themselves.
Forgive my sour temper and chuckle. I don't take myself very seriously, but I take my convictions seriously—still.
Lovingly W. Mrs. Hugo Rumbold1 2041 Bridgen Road Pasadena3 California NEW YORK N.Y. STA. Y2 JAN 18 1937 3 PM By Air MailCather