27 February 1996, San Francisco
Dear Daniela,
My favorite correspondent.
Salve! I
am always pleased to receive your long letters which
are not filled with the mundane, the banal, the "weather reports"
which pass for letters in this period of telephone calls. I am not against any of the technological
advances we are now enjoying; however,
when I write a letter and the recipient then calls me on the telephone and
chats for a couple of minutes, I am most disappointed. Thank you for being "old
fashioned."
Before I go
any farther I must apologize to you for the long delay
in sending off "Canis Majoris." In my brief note which
I enclosed with "Canis..." I said I would
write and explain my weak excuses--and I have many--they are even believable; I could convince
you that they are legitimate excuses for not having sent the novel when I had
promised; ultimately, however, they are
(indeed) weak. Lame excuses, as we say
in English. Therefore, I offer no
excuse, only my gratitude for your gracious patience. Patience is a great quality. In appreciation of your patience, I award you
the Penelope Prize. The Penelope Prize
is an occasional award presented to friends of the poet who have had to wait
patiently while he did not send certain MSS which he
promised. The Penelope Prize is only
redeemable at the Caffe Puccini in San
Francisco. There is no time limit on the
collection of the prize.
By now, if the
United States Postal Service and the Bundespostamt of
the Helvetic Confederation have co-operated in
accordance with the International Postal Union Treaty of l986, you have
received "Canis Majoris"
and are reading slowly and wondering where on earth I
am going with such a story. A friend of
mine who read it said it was "Charming." I rather liked that: Charming.
However, there is more to it than a charming story. There are several levels at which one can read
my novel: As an amusing story; as an artful
polemic against certain branches of science;
and the general hypocrisy of social conventions and attitudes in the
human condition. All
done, of course, with a light heart.
I can be heavy-handed;
but Antonio is such an adorable character, and not at all
heavy-handed; and since he was telling
the story, I let him tell it--which is usually the best way to write. So no matter at which level you read the
novel, it is my sincere wish that you (if nothing else) enjoy
reading it--even if you only like it for the amusing story it can be. I have sent it to a literary agent and the
friend who said it was "Charming" is taking it to a friend of hers in
New York who owns a publishing company.
She will hand it to him and tell him to read it. So I have done (thus
far) what I can to set into motion the wheels of publication.
I do need to
be published. I am worthy and I deserve
it because of my dedication and hard work, sacrifice and devotion for more than
twenty-five years, and, because I am a good writer. Please excuse me for blowing my own horn; but now and then I
need to not be humble and express my true heart in relation to my writer's
art. I'm
reaching a point in my life where I need to be recognized so that I may
concentrate all of my energy on writing.
As things stand now I must always have a job which has nothing to do
with being a writer;
frankly, I weary of such a waste of my precious time and
talent--when I should be home writing.
However, I am a responsible man and I must pay my rent and eat, etc.,
however, deep in my soul I don't want to do anything
else except write. I am very single
minded about writing. I think maybe I am
even a little dull (socially) because I would rather stay home and write than
go to a party with lots of people, things to drink, music, food and, perhaps,
stimulating conversation. To be very
honest, I don't need any stimulating
conversation. I have enough stimulation
in my brain for a lifetime. It often
amuses me to hear that people are bored or that they want to be
stimulated. I say amusing because I can't ever be bored and if I try to stimulate myself more
than I am I would probably blow a fuse!
(Said tongue in cheek, you must understand).
Thank you for
the translation of my poem Contra Malinconia. Never in my wildest imagination did I think I
would ever see that poem translated. I
must say you did a splendid job on it; and yes, you gave it a literal
translation which (as the author) I feel is the best way to translate that
poem. I read it out
loud in Italian. It has a
different quality in Italian which is not bad at all.
You are a talented woman, you have a good feel for
language. Maybe if you ever get tired of
teaching you might consider translating literature from English into Italian
(or French--if your French is as good as your Italian. I don't know). When Shobana is
around sixteen, she might be able to understand the poem. So she needs to
begin her study of English as soon as possible!
******
02/28
I have spent
the better half of this morning at my PC with my newly acquired dot matrix
printer, printing a few short stories which I shall
send off today. I composed the above
letter last night while deciding what to do today. I have never written a letter to a human
being with a computer. You are the
first. Is that an honor? I'm not sure.
Typewriters, yes;
never with a PC. I have
just about given up the typewriter; but I have not given up the pen. Therefore, since I have not completely
answered your long, fuchsia letter, I shall print this out, and, at another
session, respond to the rest of your leter--especially
about your articles on India.
In the
meanwhile, I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health, and
that the frustrations of house-hunting are
manageable. Until later, then, I am very
truly yours,
{NOTE BY R. Haig: Fragmented text below retrieved from
original MS Word document}
poontang
now and then entitles them to all sorts of privileges and attentions and gifts
and goin' out to dinne late
or somethin' happens and ya
got to be away for a while--well they just forget 'bout all the good
"Now,
now, Herbert," said Waldtraude, None of us are
experts. This discovery is not yet
excavated (2/28/96 2/27/96 ïurselves,
knows of its existence--so there is no expertise. No matter what body of knowledge we may have
about similar phenomena, we can't presume to use it as
some basis for comparison. Each
discovery must be treated as a unique entity.
True, we can apply certain accepted technologies and techniques in terms
of excavation, preservatio