In the letter below, Joseph Conrad writes to David Meldrum about his difficulties finding publishers for his stories.
January 7, 1902, Kent
My dear Mr Meldrum
I know I behave most abominably to you, giving no sign of life till I got to ask for something. But do not suspect me of ingratitude or forgetfulness. The fact is I seem unable to write a letter most of the time. Many a time have I sat down with you in my mind—and then laid the paper aside thinking that later on something more satisfactory could be written. But things do not improve.
Seraphina seems to hang about me like a curse. There is always something wrong turning up about that story. After Mr B’wood’s refusal of the same I first dropped it in disgust; Then took it up again and have been working very hard at it. It is now a satisfactory piece of work but not quite rearranged and adjusted all through to the changes in action and in the reading of characters which I have introduced. Hueffer was to do all that—instead of which he goes and tries to swallow a chicken bone, gets nearly choked, awfully shaken up, unable to work and so on. I could have wept. Still there was no remedy so I buckled-to again and am still at it driving hard. I had just one days respite—Xmas—that’s all—but the book is a new book and really not bad at all this time.
A few days I’ll see all the loose ends gathered up the tangle unraveled and the last knot tied. I long for the day! The past has not been a disastrous year for me. I have wasted—not idled—it away, tinkering here, tinkering there—a little on Rescue, more on that fatal Seraphina with only three stories (50000w) finished and two others begun lying in a drawer with no profit or pleasure to anybody.
On the other hand my health has been remarkably even and very tolerable—while when writing Lord Jim in ten months or less I had been feeling always on the brink of the grave. Explain it who may. And perhaps true literature (when you “get it”) is something like a disease which one feels in one’s bones, sinews and joints.
However I feel that if I can only tide over all the beastly bothers (that very naturally beset a man who has not worked enough to keep body and soul together) I shall get my feet on the firm ground or my head above water—Whatever is the proper metaphor for this kind of situation. The delay in placing the three stories I had achieved dispirited me for a time in a most ridiculous and lamentable manner—for after all I do I know fairly well what I am doing and the unwillingness of editors to publish the stuff does not affect its value.
I wish Mr B’wood could be induced to—so to speak—hire me permanently take all my stuff as it comes—lock it up in a desk if he likes—publish when he likes, never publish! Anything! That would be an ideal state of affairs for me.
However that’s a sort of dream that’s not likely to come true.
Upon the whole Pinker I believe has tried and upon the whole has done his best for me. To appear in P.[all] M.[all] M.[agazine] and the Ill: Lond: News is advantageous no doubt—but I only care for Maga, my first and only Love!
I am, as soon as ever I can, going to work for Maga at last. My idea is to do some autobiographical matter about Ships, skippers, and an adventure or two. How will that do? Pray tell me. Youth style upon the whole only not with the note of Youth in it but of the wonderfulness of things, events, people,—when looked back upon. Do I make the idea clear? Of course it shall be ‘fiction’ in the same sense that Youth is fiction. Some critics, at the time, called it a short story! Q did, for instance. And, by the bye his fiction in Maga is x well I won’t say. On the other hand the C of C is in many respects admirably done; with a sincerity of feeling and skill! I am simply fond of that piece of work. Hueffer maintains, and has always maintained that it is you. I wrote to Mr B’wood some time ago of the story putting the question. I’ve had no answer to that letter. If it is you pray accept my congratulations in which there is nothing affected; they are as sincere as the story—though not of the same value.
Do you think Mr B’wood is in any way offended or annoyed. He need not be. One does what one can; and I’ve not wasted time or substance in riotous living tho’ things are in a rather bad way with me just now. But that is nothing new.
And in this connection do you think Mr B’wood would advance me 50 pounds after I send in say 5000 words. The whole contribution either in one or two stories (of the kind I mentioned) I intend to be of about 30000 words. Could you manage to convey him a hint to that effect. I don’t ask how much he will pay me per 1000 but 4 pounds would not be unreasonable. It is (in confidence) what Pinker advances me on my stuff on delivery. But he had a better price for my Ill. Lond News story. PMM paid me a little more. Why I so pointedly ask you the question is because the affirmative would set my mind a little at ease—and I expect to have the 5000 words done shortly. Of course I would be sending on more to you as fast as possible.
I am inutterably weary of all this.
Thanks for your kindness, for your good wishes. I intended to write to you for the NY’s day but being in Winchelsea, with Hueffer very unwell, and the wretched work on my hands I absolutely had no knowledge of the day incredible as it may appear. And after missing the day I waited with my wishes and congratulations till I had got away from the place. I arrived home only a couple of hours ago with the piles of MS of our Romance and in a worry that almost drives me out of my mind.
Believe me my dear Mr Meldrum always yours most faithfully,
Jph. Conrad.
PS I have also by me a paper comparing the spirit of Elizabethean times with ours as expressed in the respective literatures. Nothing heavy. I would polish it up if you think there is any chance of acceptance for Maga. Unsigned of course.