In this letter, a young William Carlos Williams shows how delightfully he can turn a phrase before delving into his fascination with the accuracy of scientific instruments, an interest which would go on to define his poetics.
Univ. of Penn. Dorms
Dear Ed:
Your last is what I call a letter. That is something like. I am mighty glad you had such a fine old time out at Wellesley, but it certainly is a shame that such distressing formality must still be gone through with at what may be called a very center of polite learning.
As to the criticisms of “Arlo” [Prof. Bates of M.I.T. had disapproved of some of Williams’ poetic effusions], I appreciate it. In so far as he agrees with me do I consider him a very just and learned man; when he disagrees, why, of course one of us must be wrong and I being right he is “it,” therefore neither just nor learned. But Ed, that is written allegretto tempo di Mazurka, so don’t let your thoughts run to largo.
Last Saturday afternoon, the day being glorious though the ground was soggy, I hied me away to the abode of Miss Hilda Doolittle, bent upon taking a walk through the country. She was at home, as luck would have it, and besides, for luck was with me again, was anxious for a walk. Just as we were about to start I saw someone go into the observatory. This reminded me that of all the many times I had been out to see Miss Doolittle I had never seen the inside of the place. I mentioned the fact to Hilda, I call her Hilda now, and she replied, “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.” So accordingly we went on a tour of inspection. I tell you that those great instruments are truly wonderful. From one marvel I went to another with open mouth and never before have I been so conscious of my own appalling ignorance. There were clocks that never varied more than an eighth of a second in a hundred years, instruments with dials, instruments with levers and other instruments nameless to me, but each a paragon of accuracy. After this tour of inspection we set out for a walk, and finally ending up at Miss Sniveleys, spent the evening much as we did the time you were here. By the way, I have invited Miss S. to our big senior dance at the end of the year, so be ready to ship me five bones if necessary. Today I have heard that the exams for the French Hospital are to be held on April 20, so I’moff at last with the finish in sight. I hope I make good.
With lots of love,
Brother Bill