After partner Gertrude Stein’s death in 1946, Alice B. Toklas began a close and enduring friendship with American couple Harold and Virginia Knapik. Below, Toklas pens a warm missive to the couple shortly following a holiday the three had taken in Italy. Harold Knapik was a musician who for a long time had been working on a book on counterpoint, while Virginia Knapik worked at the American Embassy. Recently, it was revealed that both were longtime agents of the Central Intelligence Agency. [Note: “Blackie” was a cat who had lived in the house at which Toklas and the Knapiks had vacationed the year prior.]
Saturday Evening [October 1958]
Acqui, Italy
My dearest dears—
When you disappeared at the station I felt like Blackie deserted and devoted. Then there was nothing to do but look out of the window at the Mediterranean. The only other person in the compartment was a nice man—he looked like an engineer—returning to his parents’ home in Milan. He supplied me with matches— when we had forgotten but refused a Pall Mall because they werent [sic] strong enough. The train stopped endlessly. It took an hour before we left Nice. Finally at Ventimiglia they examined passports—luggage (not mine!) and changed money. I went into the dining car and sat down at an empty seat next to the door where they served me a copious but execrable lunch. When I returned a couple had gotten on at San Remo—she smelled of garlic—hair and —but they were kindly and helped get a porter at Savonna when we got there late. We turned our backs and said goodbye to the Mediterranean. Great wild mountains—widening out into deep wild valleys—occasionally fortified—a castle on top of one—endless tunnels—a wee bit of cultivation as we neared Acqui—a young Jesuit seimnarian got me and my bags off—and even found a taxi. The station no distance from the hotel. The town considerably larger than Grasse—richer and poorer—a nice room—a splendid bath—the water frm springs piping hot with a force of a fire hose. Unpacked a bit—dozed and 7:30 went down to dinner. A minestrone (refused)—a pâté (refused)—a trout like our good California flounders—fresh and juicy—lemons—a tomato salad—4 cloves garlic—a lemon pie—good pâté—all well cooked—little salt and no pepper—but both on the table—the dining room full—forty or fifty. Now to bed! Ever lovingly and gratefully—A.
Sunday morning
Have seen the doctor—nice man—prescribes 10 baths in 3 groups—1 day between 3 baths. Says ankles and legs are phlebitic. And now after the bath commenced (not mud more like powdered soapy—volcanic earth—put on in great slabs—wrapped up in sheets of rubber plastic very hot and soothing—then bathed to removed the application and 20 minutes in my bed)—dressed and had lunch—ham—butter—exquisite—green cannellone—roast chicken—beignets aubergines—excellent excellent apple.
Last evening glorious red sky—this morning covered—it is trying to rain now. They merely say it is autumn. Today is the fête of the raisin (vendange) and the gaily uniformed bands are marching up the street under my window—cymbals drums fifes—odd toyish instruments—drum majors—and each has a half dozen brass. The music is quite simpleminded. Fortunately I dont [sic] have to go out to enjoy it.
You were both angels to me. Please believe that I am always gratefully devotedly lovingly
Alice
FURTHER READING
For more on Toklas, the Knapiks, and Stein, please refer to Janet Malcolm’s excellent “Gertrude Stein’s War.”