J. Powers - Suitable Accommodations - An Autobiographical Story of Family Life - The Letters of J. F. Powers, 1942-1963

Oh, the joys of travel! And yet, unless we find a house we can stand to look at here, which seems unlikely at the moment, I see no course open but to set out for somewhere again. Meanwhile, we swarm all over this little rambler house, and I don’t even think of working. The prospect isn’t promising, but I suppose I at least will have to pull myself together and start working pretty soon somehow. Now how are you? Happy New Year.

Jim

Art and Money left for their place in Florida, planning to return in April, by which time everyone expected that Jim and Betty would have found a place of their own. Happily, Jim was able to rent his old office in downtown St. Cloud.

HARVEY EGAN

St Cloud

January 5, 1959

Dear Fr Egan,

The last words typed by this typewriter originated in my office on Westland Row. I am now writing from my old office above Walgreen’s — which is somewhat singed from the fire next door, but then aren’t we all? It was not my intention to write to you today, or tomorrow for that matter, for there are times when silence is the better part, but something just happened — something so symbolic that I thought you ought to know about it. You recall King Alfred’s hard times, don’t you, when it was a spider who gave him strength, inspiration rather, to go on. I seem to remember that Bruce, or Douglas, had a similar experience. Well, in my case, it is a ladybug. It was lying half frozen against the sill, and then the sun trickled in, shining first on the diocesan exchange building, which is a powerhouse of Catholic Action, and then, having nothing better to do, shining in here on me and the ladybug (we are both wearing orange-red, by the way). Now the ladybug has gathered its strength and is walking around the envelope which I intend to put this letter in. I’d say the bug, if it watches itself and sticks close to the radiator, will be all right. As for me, I anxiously await inspiration, wondering if I’ve already had it and if I need a stronger charge than Alfred and the others.

Let me telescope it for you. I’ve spent fifty on the car and a certain amount of time waiting on the garageman. I’ve been to several affairs sponsored by members of the Movement up here: no change except for a little ram’s wool in Leonard’s beard. The Wahls left for Florida yesterday. The girls are enrolled at Holy Angels school, and by a singular combination of circumstances I drive them to school (today is the first day): school begins at 8:15 a.m. We have found one house that just might do, though I personally feel very shaky about it (and about the whole picture — as does Betty, I think, but she is slower to entertain thoughts of turncoatery). Anyway we are now prepared to entertain you and George anytime you care to venture up. My radiator gives off a keening sound, and I must draw closer to it. This building has only about a year to live. My shirt is threadbare, and my cushions are dead. Our bishop gave a talk on TV yesterday (Alexandria station), only a half hour, all too short.

Jim

What does a ladybug eat? Clark Bars.

Journal, January 5, 1959

First day in office. Radiator cooling at 2:00 p.m.… Money short. Friends depressed and depressing. Houses nonexistent … Truth is I hate wooden houses and especially white ones … Last month probably the most miserable in my life. Ladybug like me — half frozen, wearing orange-red. Will it be here tomorrow?

Journal, January 6, 1959

Yes, it’s here. I tried a crumb of milk chocolate on it, but it wasn’t interested. I wonder if it’s seeking the cold and doesn’t enjoy the sun, knowing it’s winter.

Journal, January 7, 1959

So far I’d say returning has been a mistake. Keep coming back to Don. What’s wrong? I ask myself, and topping the list is that … Ladybug still around.

Journal, January 8, 1959

No work yet. Am hoping to start pretty soon now. Always hard to begin again, and this is as hard as any time I can remember in the past. About all this — house, staying on, etc. — I feel no better. Discovered girls have been wearing no sweaters under their coats — just their blouses. Mary home sick today. Suppose KA will be next. I don’t know — at this point, with the weather near zero every morning — what it means. Nothing in my history enables me to understand them at their ages — or Betty, for that matter. A strong strain always tending toward absolute confusion. Haven’t seen the ladybug around today.

Journal, January 9, 1959

Trying to get started — still. No sign of ladybug, but haven’t really looked for it.

Journal, January 12, 1959

The family-life novel seems more and more possible. (Perhaps the account of our arrival off the Hanseatic cd be in it, for I now see the novel not ending with our departure from St Cloud.)

Journal, January 14, 1959

I drove out to Jacobs Prairie — looked for Don’s grave. I think I found it in a corner. Very odd standing there where he is buried — hard to believe — and I’m afraid I’m such a poor Christian that I get mad at him for dying.

HARVEY EGAN

February 11, 1959

Dear Fr Egan,

[…] We haven’t found the social life here quite what we’d hoped it would be. I finally got Doyle to come out last night, having spent one night at his house watching the children go to bed for three hours; they kept reappearing to have a dish of cereal and to pat the cat. The Doyles are considered strict disciplinarians by most people, I understand.

I have my Dublin office furniture here now, but the work, I must say, isn’t getting done. It is now 10:00 a.m., and I’ve been here about two hours and am beginning to think about opening up my sandwiches and thermos of tea. The Mpls Tribune is out of the way for another day.

I got pretty interested in the Del-Dupas1 contest, reading up on it before and after. Watching it on TV, though, I got that old feeling. I don’t think I gave Del a round. Just shows you how much you can miss watching a show on TV. I thought I heard your voice ring out at one point.

In short, I am trying to take an interest in the life around me. Not easy, is it?

Del drank too much water before the fight. He wants title shot. If ever a guy deserved it, Del does. Maybe with the International Boxing Club dissolved, he’ll get it. Well, let’s hope so. But if so, I hope he remembers to train for it, and doesn’t get too fine, and doesn’t drink water to excess when he’s drying out, and all the rest.

Jim

Jim whose address is:

c/o A. Wahl

North River Road, Rte 2

St Cloud

Journal, February 21, 1959

I was asking what it is my present life seems to be saying to me — I think it is that I must work willy-nilly and abandon all hope of living as I’d like to, forget what I like to eat, who I’d like to see, where I’d like to be, etc., and think of myself as just having been given a stiff prison sentence: if I should ever get out, it would be nice to have a book or two to show for the time. I’ll not get out either until I have a book that makes me some money. So what, my life is a plot against living, but perhaps a good thing for my work — if I can ever get around to it. If I can stop trying to think of other ways to escape the trap I’m in. Stoicism then …

HARVEY EGAN

March 6, 1959

Dear Fr Egan,

I just rec’d the following wire here at my office: THE TROUBLE2 SHOWING CBS LOOK UP AND LIVE SUNDAY MORNING MARCH EIGHTH MANY THANKS AND CONGRATULATIONS = ANNE FREMANTLE. So I wanted you to be the first to know. The only thing is that CBS in Mpls — St Paul isn’t carrying the program. […] They are on tape, so maybe we’ll see them someday somewhere. Naturally, I am excited about my debut on TV, though there’s no money in it and it’s, unfortunately, invisible.