24 July (1921): Edna St. Vincent Millay to Norma Millay

In this effusive letter to her sister Norma, Edna St. Vincent Millay describes a recent encounter with friends who had assumed she wouldn’t be able to carry herself on the dance floor. Speaking with Norma, Millay strikes a jovial tone, deviating from the darker nature of her poetry.

Paris
July 24, 1921

Dear Hunk,—

Whatever you ever have done or ever will do to me, I will forgive, for the sake of that letter about the party given on my birthday, which you and Chas concocted together. I never in my life read anything so funny. I nearly had convulsions over it. I howled and yelled over it. I made such a noise that I fully expected to get put out of the hotel immediately after luncheon. It cleared all my mental atmosphere in such a way that there can not possibly appear a cloud on my horizon for a long, long time. Darling, it was too lovely. That long list of names, and the screaming juxtaposition of them, the description of the Rev. Mr. Dell and the Chinese Nightingale—these nearly killed me, also the insertion of the name of Mrs. S—!

Yes, once I was a child, and I played a mean trick on you, dear. I stuffed your mouth full of geranium leaves and sought earnestly to suffocate you. I am glad I did not succeed. Because you are a very amusing young woman, and deserve to live.

Otto will pay you half the proceeds of Sentimental Solon, sister. I hear that you are living in great luxury. Nevertheless, it may come in handy, for Christmas presents to your butler’s wife and children.

I saw Peggy Johns Cowley. She says that you are looking perfectly beautiful, and like a million dollars plus war-tax, or words to that effect. As a matter of fact, I believe that is an expression I got from Starkie. Bunny Wilson is at a hotel just around the corner from me. I haven’t seen Djuna, but have had a note from her, and am going to look her up. Have you seen my Greek Dance article, in the last Vanity Fair? I think it very funny.

Oh, honey, your little friend John Coggeshall has been around to see me a couple of times, and I went on a jazz-party one night with him and Starkie and Pete Chambers. Starkie told me afterwards that Pete had said to him when they were getting up the party—which was to include several other kids and some kid girls, besides—“Can Vincent dance?” And Starkie had replied, “Oh, no, I don’t believe so. Probably not a bit. You couldn’t expect her to. She’s probably awful. And Pete, you take her on, because you lead better than I do. I don’t dare try her out.” So that night, when I appeared in my most beautiful evening gown—a Poiret gown, by the way, which I bought at a place where they sell the gowns which have been worn by the models—we all motored up to the Acacias, and the jazz-band jazzed,—and Pete “took me on.” Really, darling, it was a scream. Of course, he didn’t say a word, but his face was actually stupid with astonishment. Naturally, I didn’t know about the conversation which had taken place before, but I had a hunch that they probably thought I couldn’t dance very well, and I outdid myself. I never danced more beautifully. It was too comical for anything. Pete dances extremely well, and it was a lot of fun. Of course, after that, everybody “took me on.” Pete had tipped them off, as Starkie told me later, to the fact that “Vince is wonderful!” This is a silly little story, but I think it will amuse you. ’Member how you and me used to dance together?

Johnnie Coggeshall is a dear kid, isn’t he? He talks about you, and how he and his father and sister are all crazy about you. He behaves a little bit silly about me, too, as you knew he would, of course, but I hold him sternly in check. For heaven’s sake don’t let him know I said this, it would so terribly wound that adolescent pride, which is such a delicate thing to deal with. He belongs to the most beautiful type of characteristically American youth, I think.

If you see Hendrik van Loon, give him my love. The drawing was very amusing. I adore it. How one does enjoy something sublimely silly, like that,—that enormous bunch of flowers, and the Arc de Triomphe in the distance, to show that it is Paris!

I am so happy about the music, my lovely Normie, my childhood’s friend!

Love-love-love-From-Bincent.

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