Gryphon – Gibson Island, Chesapeake – Sun 20 Aug 67
Read two books today – Edmundo Desnos Inconsolable Memories and CS Lewis’ Perelandra. I am out of everything I WANT to read and just grimly working my way through the ship’s collection till we get to a bookstore. I’m not used to being a thousand miles from the nearest library. I shouldn’t read so fast but when the books are bad this is what happens.
Dad and I had a long discussion about it over cocktails on the “ahfta-deck”. Dad says the Desnos book got very good reviews. Frankly, I’m surprised.
Desnos thinks he is daring when he is merely boring. His lack of thought about Castro is disappointing. His visit to Hemingway’s house should be a short story all by itself. Since the problem is development of ideas and tone, let’s blame the translation. If only they had used Mark Twain’s friend who translated For to Visit a Sick. Oh well. I am too hungry for amusement. I will be forced to write my own book if this keeps up. CS Lewis somewhat better. He can still make my jaw drop with his masterly artistry. I rate it above Screwtape Letters, which had a tendency to turn into a list of Pet Peeves. Unfortunately the plot is ludicrous and the characters incomprehensible. His philosophy is strange. Why hate the stage? He gets upset over people who don’t appreciate romance poetry – it’s the same damn thing. And why isn’t he a pacifist? Why bomb people you can’t see for the benefit of those you don’t know? What if they’re all a bunch of Satanists? Sounds a lot more dangerous spiritually than going to the theatre. When Weston begged for mercy Ransom smashed his face in then prayed for him! I also don’t like this theory that we would all be happy all day long frolicking in a Biblical kindergarten! We want to research and build – CS Lewis above all.
Waugh also hated pacifists and thought you would get in less trouble killing the wrong people than in refusing to kill at all. Weird.
66 Phillips St, Beacon Hill, Boston – 2:20 AM Wed 23 Aug 67
A most comfortable and peaceful morning in Genevieve & Kent’s apt. Genevieve went to sleep already because she has to get to her job at a dept. store candy counter in the city’s poorest section by 11:15 AM.
Kent and I do no work at all, we loaf around the apt and get into endless, pointless philosophical discussions. We are currently on What Forms the Personality. He maintains the tabula rasa theory – if I was Gen Westmoreland’s daughter I would be a rabid militaristic chauvinist. Oh, so there are no ideas that are more inherently correct than other ideas. Yes, of course there are. So dot dot dot. I draw in constant counter-examples from history – Frederick the Great’s flute playing son – which he can’t refute because he doesn’t know. He’s not used to people putting up this much of an argument apparently.
Genevieve seems well and happy. Kent is tender, imaginative and appears to care for her deeply. I can’t take “sides” – Mom thinks its hurtful to have a parent-less wedding – so she refused consent – Dad had to give it) and Genevieve thinks Mom treats casual guests better than the “trip” she laid on them that weekend. So who was wrong first? It does seem like parents are the chicken and kids are the eggs – therefore parents should keep what tempers they have.
I’m now lying on my pullout couch trying to read Romain Gary’s The Ski Bum. I think I understand him too well. Am trying to construct a Gary novel in my head that is more interesting than this one. It would have at least one murder and a lot of Simenonesque interrogations:
“How did you know he was a boy?”
“From the way he walked.”
“You are a very good witness. What was he wearing?”
“I don’t remember.”
The sky is just starting to lighten. Discovered that if you step to the end of the hall and lift the screen you can climb right out to the wet roof.
I seem bothered by a lot of poltergeists, ghosts and flying saucers that never troubled me before. I’m afraid once they get a toehold they’re with you for good. Kent and I are 98% certain we saw a flying saucer over Boston Common. We gave chase it but it departed. (We may have been influenced by just seeing Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines.)
Her ghost, according to Genevieve, is an earring thief. Well, he could climb that tree and get right in is all I’m saying. I should write about Dan Devereux but I am becoming incoherent. Seems like I’ve seen a lot of sunrises lately. Junior Wells tomorrow night!
Approx. 1:30 AM Thurs, 31 Aug 67
I always consider it my fault if a date is not a success but some dates don’t give you much to work with. My date with Dan started out the worst possible way – I missed my train and was an hour late. Had to walk down Penn St to the Queen Lane station in black Vanellis and rust and green chiffon through the worst neighborhood you can possibly think of but nobody did anything worse than catcalling. Then because I’d missed the train had to sit in the station alone! On the Main Line end found Dan peering up the stairwell like a little boy – looking so cute. We played Botticelli in the cab on the way to the restaurant – it was his idea! I was JP Morgan and although he is pretty quick he didn’t get it. So I should like this guy – why don’t I? Is it because he dated Casey? Maybe I know him too well (third hand!) Keep having visions of his & Casey’s elbows & underpants flying!
The Tony George is a romantic restaurant with excellent food but we were almost alone – nobody came in. I am used to galloping in & out but we sat there at least 2 hours. I had clams, flounder stuffed with crabmeat and 5 cups of coffee. Anxiety poured off Dan – infecting me with its sticky mange – God knows why. Afterwards we walked along the river.
Finally showed up at the movie – Citizen Kane. I didn’t care for it because I didn’t like Kane. I feel the movie doesn’t want you to like him so ho hum. The sled thing is idiotic like the punch line of an endless shaggy dog story. Afterwards we went to Dan’s townhouse on Society Hill – it was built 1801 and he is very worked up about it as if it was just about to vanish. All I can say is, you can’t buy taste.
His parents and little sister were in bed. He fixed us both scotches but I said I preferred a gin and tonic. He said they were out! I will never get used to scotch. He worships John Coltrane, put on a record, took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Men look much handsomer partially undressed. He has a very pretty chest. Then he started lecturing me about how I pick boys with no experience so I can dominate them. (Won’t Aiken be surprised to hear! )
I said I really don’t know what I’m searching for – I’m young and I’m playing it by ear. Then Dan told me awful things about Reed! Said I almost destroyed him! I said that CAN’T be true and brought up Marnie. No, no, no, says Dan she’s nothing. I’d be flattered if he wasn’t trying to actually make me feel bad. Shawn also supposedly loved me – now that I DON’T believe! Me – galumphing me! Apparently the more boys like a girl the more they try to destroy her . This is giving me a new perspective on things. I am out of patience with being “liked”.
Dan said I am eminently “watchable”. I explained how I danced all summer and am starting to feel like maybe I can actually do it. He couldn’t believe we cancaned for nuns! Life is strange. He talked me out of catching the 12:30 last train by saying he’d walk me from the all night trolley, got me a pair of his sister’s shirt and jeans and we went out to see the sunrise. (Mom and Dad not home – houseguests only. Why worry?) Rainy and overcast – no sunrise to see! So went to the Melrose Diner where we had steak for breakfast.
What with the trolley, subway and train situation we didn’t reach Penn St till 10:30 AM and everyone had gone. I made hamburgers for lunch then I sent Dan home, had a boiling hot bath and went to bed.
He held my hands ONCE and brushed my lips with his ONCE. This has to be part of a game. I wouldn’t expect anyone but you to believe it!! Houseguest Jeff came back – promised NEVER TO TELL – in fact to perjure his soul for me. Pretty sure he doesn’t believe nothing happened. However now Dan can tell everyone he spent the night with me!
Is 19 hours a “first date” record?
Mon 4 Sept 67
Dan’s and my second date began EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. This is the problem between Germantown and the Main Line – the two are meant Never to cross. Lost my contacts and couldn’t find them. Absolutely gone! So I was late.
Went to a restaurant called Café Lafitte of Drury Lane which I liked MUCH more than the first one. We sat practically in the fireplace! And this restaurant had people. Didn’t even make it to the movie.
I was surprised by how much I wanted Dan. This dating stuff is definitely thawing me. Also he won’t be at Plumly so it feels like a “get out jail free” card. Plus Dan is interesting. He describes himself as the “bastard son of a bastard son.” Says his father wanted to be F. Scott Fitzgerald but had to go into business so whatever choice Dan makes will be wrong.
We went back to his house for coffee – except I would rather have tea – and while he was making it I sat in an armchair so he couldn’t sit beside. He sat at my feet so I could admire his hair and his beautiful shoulders!
I said the summer had made me a little afraid of myself because I had a “problem” with a fellow student. He said when someone is lucky enough to date a girl as interesting as me it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t get physical! That was the right thing to say so I kissed him. He has just the littlest bit of halitosis. Too bad. He said even if I “threw him over” it would be worth it. Uh oh.
We had a marvelous time riding the subways and train home. We called each other Thomas and Virginia, spoke French and pretended to be a married couple having a tiff. I accused him of being homosexual and he accused me of sleeping with everyone I met. It was very funny. We fought about the children – who would get them – each trying to unload them on the other. So fun! He met mother and made outstanding conversation. She was very impressed. What shame I don’t like him more but the spark is wavering.
Kissed goodbye at the gate, then went upstairs to read the Romain Gary he gave me. He just loves Romain Gary.
He phoned this eve from Wisconsin said he sent me three letters and two cards! Said he’s writing me a haiku!
Finally saw Bryan Forbes’ superb The Whisperers. Had his wife & daughter in the cast! “Is there a part for me, darling?” “Well, as it happens…” Ideal family set up. Edith Evans very good.
Strange letter from Shawn. He apologized for being “cynical and bitter”; then criticized Plumly’s “pettiness” and “superficial values”. Amen! I was getting all excited about having someone to talk to next year but he seems to think once you’re “close” you CAN’T date. Is this “stay away and just be my friend?” Confusing! I know I’m playing with fire dating Dan – he is bound to talk behind my back and mess me up with the senior boys. A problem when dating younger is considered déclassée. I want a boy who wants to date me, is self-confident, and isn’t afraid of me. Then maybe I can stop being afraid of myself.
Watched The Prisoner – excellent Guinness performance. Winning at cards with Kent & Genevieve.
1:30 AM Sat 9 Sept 67
Yet another Night Flight. If due to some totally unforeseen occurrence your oxygen mask should deploy, grab your neighbor’s knee and breathe normally.
Disgusting letter from Robin made me grit my teeth. “You know I love you & want the best for you Alysse.” I DON”T know that. When he’s trying to put on a big act he is EXCRUCIATING. Luckily he enclosed a pic of me among the can can girls which I will cherish forever.
Telling fake from real appears to be Life Job # 1 (think Hemingway said that.) Sent Robin a 4 p typed letter making it appear I am currently trying to decide between Dan & Shawn! Putting an end (I hope) to this misbegotten correspondence. I NEVER SAID ANYTHING THAT WASN’T THE TRUTH but I also didn’t expose my heart. It’s fun to pretend, isn’t it Robin? You’re pretending to be coy & manly & I am pretending to be a Wild Free Loner when I am just about to settle back in to Sensible Schoolgirl. Yecch.
I think what I really wanted him to know was he didn’t MAKE ONE BIT OF DIFFERENCE to my life. Malicious, eh? Also, NOT the truth. Alas, I must confess. Well, we never pass up the chance to do a little acting, do we Robin?
Went shopping Wed, bought 2 pairs earrings and a capacious suede bag. (Saleswoman did not know the meaning of “capacious.” She found out.) 2 pairs pattered stockings and a black tweed dress with huge white collar & cuffs! Big black patent leather belt. Pilgrim in a miniskirt! Perfect for Plumly! Also 1 pair John Romain shoes – $15. Now I’ve had it with shopping. I find I’m afraid to buy party clothes because it will look like I’m expecting to be asked to dances and I WON’T BE. Dan’s no use having graduated. Better keep my expectations low.
Aynsley called from airport 5:45 – I rushed to meet her. She is SO THIN, so pretty, so blonde, had a good summer, her Southern accent so thick you have to guess at every other word. Good to see her again. Talked ourselves hoarse – looking forward to friends – NOT looking forward to Miss Womrath. Looking forward to classes, NOT looking forward to Collection. Looking forward to Camp Suppers, NOT looking forward to Vespers. (Even though I can sit in senior balcony where we are encouraged to look down upon the heads of our inferiors.) Looking forward to senior coffee (anything beats the Spinal Drainings of a Dead Hippopotamus the underclassmen have to drink) & senior stairs – but checkout (gym) – NO. Mom & I took Aynsley to dinner at Inn of the Four Falls and saw the Fantasticks. Recognized one actress from the Plumly show. Seemed sappier somehow. Felt personally offended by Mom’s sneers about “romance”. How stupid children are and how they don’t know anything! And she’s supposed to be the ONLY happily married one of all my friends’ parents! Presents a grim future.
Fri. AM wakened at 10:30 AM by Dan! I was a sour crab! Agreed to date Sun night to see Junior Wells at the Trauma. I invited him to dinner. Lunch at the art museum with Uncle David who took me out to lunch. He is very entertaining. UNLIKE Dan Devereux who is raining letters & double entendre cards on me. I don’t quite like it. This is the most difficult part of dating – you want to “make an impression” but it’s also a game of tennis: how am I going to return all these serves? Much easier to rush off the court and hide in the woods.
Went to the dentist who made me cry. “Ooops, I hit a nerve.” I couldn’t stop crying from the sheer indignity of it! Maybe Novocain doesn’t work on me. Next time I’m getting gas. Face all swollen STILL as I sit here at the kitchen table with the house asleep.
Alysse Aallyn 
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