12 Nov 1921

12 November 1921

Chalet des Sapins, Montana-sur-Sierre, Switzerland

And, when you come to think of it what was Chaucer's problem or Shakespeare's? The ‘problem' is the invention of the 19th century. The artist takes a long look at Life. He says softly, "So this is what Life is, is it?" And he proceeds to express that. All the rest he leaves. Tolstoi even had no problem. What he had was a propaganda & he is a great artist in spite of it. I think its a good thing I don't come to your Thursdays. I would introduce a non serious atmosphere. Id feel inclined to suggest a game of Swartzer Peter or Hunt the Thimble. Sullivan might be extremely good at Hunt the Thimble!
   But Brett dearest, forgive me, I don't think of people as "little" people. Never! And I simply cant say you-and-I. I never feel you and I with my friends. There is something forever separate in me which makes it impossible. If this is a bad limitation - I am very sorry. But I cant help it.
   Oh. I have just remembered. If you should see Edmund Dulac's show would you tell me about his portrait of Mrs. Wellington Koo. She is a woman whose appearance I admire tremendously. Ive only seen bad newspaper photographs of her but she looks exquisite, even then. I should imagine it would be perfect joy to paint her as she should be painted. Couldn't you get to know her? I am sure she is as rare a little being as one can find. But its true Ive only seen her on the back page of the Daily Mail! Her babies are the greatest loves possible. M. & I nearly swooned over their picture. Goodbye for now. I press your hand warmly.
   I am yours ever
                             Tig. [To Dorothy Brett, 11 November 1921.]

Dear Mr Pinker,
   I return herewith the corrected proofs of the story.
   I am greatly troubled to find that the typist has made mistakes which make nonsense of the text. She (or he) has also left out words and substituted bath for basin, sole for sour and so on. I do not like to think the other uncorrected copy has gone to America. And I tremble to think of my poor Garden-Party. I suppose I can't hope to have proofs of the American copies (just supposing they ever should reach the proof stage.)
   I trust this does not sound ungracious to you, for your kindness in arranging for them to be typed. I appreciate the fact that I had a risk to run.
   I am sorry to make a mountain out of what must seem to anyone but an agonised parent such a very small molehill.
                                   Yours sincerely
                             Katherine Mansfield [To J. B. Pinker, 12 November 1921.]