The Works of George Santayana

Category: LETTERS Page 3 of 274

Letters in Limbo ~ May 26, 1931

Aristotle_Altemps_Inv8575To Benjamin Apthorp Gould Fuller
C/o Brown Shipley & Co 123 Pall Mall
Rome. May 25/6, 1931

After I had finished the proofs of your Aristotle, the two volumes arrived, and I have now read the Socrates and Plato. I am partly reconciled to your intentional American and jocular medium; for I see that really you are not writing a history of Greek Philosophy at all, but a review of what the professors—chiefly English or Scottish—now say about it. You might have carried the joke out, and composed a perfect satire on all these controversies, on the theme which you indicate in several places, that the two and seventy sects come out by the same door wherein they went. And this is always the back door. All these professors are outsiders and interlopers, and the first thing to do if you had wished to study the ancients themselves should have been to become a believer in them, and to have let all these modern egotistical critics lie buried in their own dust. Plato and Aristotle speak for themselves, if you trust them, and if you want guidance, you have it, within the school and its living traditions, in the Neo Platonists, the Arabians, and the Scholastics.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Four, 1928-1932.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2003.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA

Letters in Limbo ~ May 25, 1927

N005_stablesTo Charles Augustus Strong
Hotel Bristol
Rome. May 25, 1927

Thank you for your card. I am glad you liked Cory—not that I altogether like him myself—but he is going to make himself useful in clearing my Augean stables, and it is as well that he shouldn’t be disagreeable to my friends.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Three, 1921-1927.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2002.
Location of manuscript: Rockefeller Archive Center, Sleepy Hollow NY

Letters in Limbo ~ May 24, 1949

Talisman_-Mathilde_Kschessinska_-Niriti_-1909_-4To Allison Delarue
Via Santo Stefano Rotondo, 6
Rome. May 24, 1949.

Dear Mr. Delarue,
Your kind note and Eugene Berman’s designs make me think of Paris and the Russian Ballet of fifty years ago rather than of Italy where I live pleasantly but far from all artists and festive shows.

They also make me think of an old friend who I understand has become a sort of patron empressario for ballets in New York, George de Cuevas.  His wife is the daughter of Charles Strong, with whom I had my pied-â-terre in Paris for many years; and I took his place (he being at a sanatorium in Switzerland) at his daughter’s marriage. You see how modern the existence of an old recluse may become in this “age-of-troubles”.

The Russian ballet was, of all modern novelties, the one that seemed to me to set the arts really on the highway again. But have they kept to it?

Yours sincerely,
G Santayana

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Eight, 1948-1952.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2008.
Location of manuscript: Department of Rare Books and Special Collections, Princeton University Libraries, Princeton NJ

Letters in Limbo ~ May 23, 1931

Republique-allegorieTo George Sturgis
Rome. May 23, 1931

I am not in sympathy with Spanish republicans; but things probably will have to be much worse before they begin to be better. The dictatorship in Spain had the misfortune of being associated with military, royal, aristocratic, and clerical interests—all Fascism is not. It therefore couldn’t attract the popular and socialistic currents, which can’t be safely ignored. They have now overflowed; but there may not be much left except mud when they subside. Provincial independence may survive: and that may be a good thing morally.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Four, 1928-1932.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2003.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA

Letters in Limbo ~ May 22, 1927

To Van Wyck Brooks
C/o Brown Shipley & Co. 123 Pall Mall, S.W.1. London
Rome. May 22, 1927

Dear Mr Brooks

Although I am not sure whether I owe the pleasure of reading your book on “Emerson & Others” to your initiative or that of your publishers, I would rather thank you personally for it, because I have one or two things which I should like to say, as it were, in private. Your pictures of Emerson are perfect in the way of impressions: not that I knew him (he was dead, I think, when I first reached America, aged 8); but that, whether true to the fact or not, they are convincing in their vividness. But just how much is quoted, and how much is your own? Am I to believe—I who haven’t read the Journal and know little of the facts—that Emerson was such a colossal egotist and so pedantic and affected as he seems on your pages 39 and 40? Or have you maliciously put things together so as to let the cat out of the bag? Sham sympathy, sham classicism, sham universality, all got from books and pictures! Loving the people for their robust sinews and Michaelangelesque poses! And for the thrill of hearing them swear! How different a true lover of the people, like Dickens!

You apologize because some of your descriptions applied to the remote America of 1919: I who think of America as I knew it in the 1890’s (although I vegetated there for another decade) can only accept what I hear about all these recent developments. On the other hand, when you speak of the older worthies, you seem to me to exaggerate, not so much their importance, as their distinction: wasn’t this Melville (I have never read him) the most terrible ranter? What you quote of him doesn’t tempt me to repair the holes in my education. The paper I have most enjoyed— enjoyed immensely—is the one on the old Yeats. His English is good: his mind is quick.

. . . Why do the American poets and other geniuses die young or peter out, unless they go and hibernate in Europe? What you say about Bourne (whom again I haven’t read) and in your last chapter suggests to me that it all comes of applied culture. Instead of being interested in what they are and what they do and see, they are interested in what they think they would like to be and see and do: it is a misguided ambition, and moreover, if realized, fatal, because it wears out all their energies in trying to bear fruits which are not of their species. A certain degree of sympathy and assimilation with ultra-modern ways in Europe or even Asia may be possible, because young America is simply modernism undiluted: but what Lewis Mumford calls “the pillage of the past” (of which he thinks I am guilty too) is worse than useless. I therefore think that art, etc. has a better soil in the ferocious 100% America than in the Intelligentsia of New York. It is veneer, rouge, aestheticism, art museums, new theatres, etc that make America impotent. The good things are football, kindness, and jazz bands.

From The Letters of George Santayana:  Book Three, 1921–1927.  Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2002.
Location of manuscript: The Charles Patterson Van Pelt Library, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

Page 3 of 274

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén