To GERA
May 7, 1974
As you must realize, I am no longer the young man of Adolf Dehn’s drawing, being now 64, ‘bi’, and a little ralenti. But I still have the same feeling for youth and for the Paris which is its constant expression and true locality.
When you say you would like to go back ‘in time’ to the Paris of the 20’s, I can’t resist telling you that in those 20’s many of us were no less fascinated by the Paris of the ’90’s, the so-called Belle Epoque. And the people of those days had, in their turn, a nostalgia for the belle époque of Offenbach and the 2nd Empire. And the 2nd Empire doubtless looked back wistfully to the 18th century. And so it goes. But Paris itself remains. As you already seem to have divined, it is the city of one’s dreams, not of any reality: in other words, it’s what we ourselves make it, though its beauty remains.
To KAY BOYLE
Foster, Quebec
March 19, 1969
I will send you the extracts of Memoirs of Montparnasse as soon as they appear in Tamarack Review. But I’m sure you won’t like them, and the whole book even less!
You see, I look on the whole real value of ‘memoirs’ as being not so much a record of ‘what happened’ as a re-creation of the spirit of a period in time. The first approach is so often simply tedious, faded literary gossip; name-dropping, disconnected anecdotes, etc. like 50% of Bob’s book; your own record, on the other hand, has the ring of genuine experience and feeling, and above all a good story-line: everyone here says so! The second approach is that of Rousseau, Casanova and George Moore. None of them felt ted to the historical truth; they were all liars and produced works of art by invention. Who cares about their lies now? Who knows, for instance, whether Casanova’s ‘Henriette’ even existed? Yet she lives. I don’t compare myself to them, naturally, but my book is in their style. And Casanova is the greatest writer of Memoirs the world has ever seen: this is the 18th century, and the portrait of a man as well.
From The Heart Accepts It All: The Selected Letters of John Glassco, edited by Brian Busby.
To GÉRALD GODIN
Foster, Quebec
February 11, 1967
Your words about poets being prophets have made me think. They have sent me back to [Hector de Saint-Denys] Garneau’s Journal, and I find his ‘Notes on Nationalism’ express my own position perfectly. Nationalism is a straight-jacket, as much for those who impose it as those who are subjected to it. Also, I distrust revolutions: they end in Napoleons, every time. And, how lucky we all are that Wolfe defeated Montcalm! Napoleon would have sold all Lower Canada to the States, along with Louisiana. Instead of celebrating Montcalm as Hertel does, le grand aincu, avec ce coquelicot, là, sur la poitrine, (he was only a tough old professional soldier, after all) we should think of that young, amateur, the chinless, consumptive poile de carrotte Wolfe, reciting bad poetry as he floated down the river to Quebec. Without him, we might be burning our draft cards today. Of course he had a bit of luck, too.
Is it not time we abandoned the mother-image of Quebec, however swelling, beautiful and bountiful her breasts may be? Not herself, but her poetic image. The latter will be hard to replace, I know. As hard to replace as the image of my own beloved city of Montreal, that dear old whore whose face they are trying to lift for Expo…
From
The Heart Accepts It All: The Selected Letters of John Glassco, edited by Brian Busby.
To AL PURDY
September 18, 1964
Hugely flattered to hear you stole my book. This is fame. I used to steal a lot of books myself, mostly from libraries: my method was to look at the little card in the back envelope and if it hadn’t been taken out more than twice in the past year I would figure I needed it more than the public.
You’re right about this attraction for decay going too far. One could end up all misty-eyed fondling a farmer’s old rubber boot. Which is why I’m not going to write a poem about a car cemetery, though your images of old fenders, magnetos and smashed headlights are tempting. Why don’t you do it? The backward look on ruined things I have eschewed. I just look at them now, sigh and turn away.
From
The Heart Accepts It All: The Selected Letters of John Glassco, edited by Brian Busby.
To: IRVING LAYTON
August 11, 1957
Dear Irving,
I’m projecting a violent attack on your poetry in the public prints, but have not all the copies of your published books.
If possible, please send me copies of all your published works (except Here and Now and Love the Conqueror Worm) and bill me for same.
The blows will be delivered below the belt—the seat of your uncontested genius—but otherwise the amenities will be observed, within certain limits,
Best regards to you and Betty, and hope to see you soon.
Yours as always,
Buffy Glassco
From The Heart Accepts It All: The Selected Letters of John Glassco, edited by Brian Busby
