11 March 1921
11 March 1921
11 March 1921
Villa Isola Bella, Menton, France
Yes. I do understand. But even now I cant explain. Something happened — a kind of earthquake that shook everything and I lost faith and touch with everybody. I cannot write what it was. And perhaps I shall never meet you again so that I can tell you. This is sad. Blame me if you must. How can you do otherwise? I expect this all sounds fantastic. I hate people who hint at secrets in letters. You will hate this. Let me say I was almost out of my mind with misery last year.
J.M.M. is here for the moment. He goes back to England at the end of April. His typewriter ticks away here.
Yes, I know what you must have felt about Keats. I have just been looking at the Keats Memorial Volume. It is simply indescribable in its vulgarity. But theres a letter by Keats in it, so full of power, gaiety, ‘fun’ that it mocks the book as he would have mocked it!
I wish we could meet in Florence, but I have forfeited those happy chances.
Would that you were better! At any rate, in that other world, that world which we share, there I meet you, there I know — and sympathise as others cannot.
Ill write again if I may.
Goodnight dearest Ottoline. With my love,
Ever yours
Katherine.
[To Ottoline Morrell in Collected Letters, 14 March 1921.]