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#3290: Willa Cather to Henry Van Dyke, November 23 [1929]

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⬩W⬩S⬩C⬩ My dear Dr. Van Dyke1:

I few days ago, when I returned from Canada3, I was apprised of your recent illness through the public print, and I was about to write you when your last book4 reached me after many forwardings, and I opened it to find your generous article about my book5.

This book has had many pleasant adventures, but none of them has pleased me more than the fact that you enjoyed reading it last winter and saw at once what I was trying to do in it. The purpose of the book really cannot be defined - it simply has to be felt. The fact that so many people seem to feel it, or at least to feel something in that narrative, astonishes me as much as it does you. When I took the manuscript in to the publisher, my instructions were "Print as few as possible."

I see that we agree perfectly6 in a warm admiration of Thornton Wilder7 and in a sane estimte of Shelley8's life and works - especially the works. Almost nobody is willing nowadays to tell the truth about Shelley's poetry and to admit that while a little of it is inimitable - the most haunting music in the world - 90 per cent of it is certainly pompous raving.

how like a typist!

I hope, my dear sir, that this letter9 finds you rapidly recovering. If you should come into New York2 this winter, I beg you to let me know. I am going to California10 soon after Christmas to be with my mother11, who is now a helpless invalid.

Appreciately yours, Willa Cather