Letters from Aunt Fela

Dearest Frania,

I received your card telling me about Moor. I am very glad you met him and realized that one must overlook certain things in him, given what he has to offer if handled skillfully. I repeat: he gives nothing away for free, yet he pays willingly when something pleases him. 

I also sense that the thought of F.—and the whole situation with him—is deeply troubling you. I don’t know if I am doing the right thing, but I have decided to tell you what I’ve heard about him here—things that simply horrified me. People here maintain that he is an ignoble, disgraced man, and that his visits to Rózia and Madzia are merely a pretext, just like the others. It is hard to believe—yet serious people claim this, and I ask myself in horror: is it possible for someone to be so two-faced? Of course, everything can be interpreted in different ways—or one might be completely mistaken—but it could also be true; in that case, you should simply congratulate yourself on staying away from him. One thing that greatly surprised me was that, back in January (in his last card), he suddenly asked if I was coming here. The question was so abrupt—and I was so far from even considering such a plan at the time—that I often found myself thinking back to that strange remark. Of course, that in itself proves nothing, yet other memories and facts come to mind. I do not wish to claim that I believe gossip, but you, Frania, should observe him closely and not hesitate to ask questions or seek explanations regarding where he is going and why. The situation with the magazines is this: he didn’t pay for the first one, so naturally, the second was sent C.O.D.—structured so that the first was paid for as well, clearing the debt for them. However, I’ve instructed them not to send any further issues until you specifically ask for them. People have heard the gossip about Blub, too, but I’m quashing the rumors. Who knows—perhaps that’s why he’s so reluctant about your trip?

All in all, I’m glad I came here. As I expected, there is talk of regulating the influx of foreigners into Denmark, so it might soon become impossible to come here at all; besides, things were bad for me back there—I was starving in the boarding house, and one couldn't buy anything extra without bread or sugar (the ration coupons went to the landladies, who shortchanged me on the amounts), and everything was terribly expensive. It’s not much better here regarding clothing, either. I think I realized too late that I should have stocked up on silk and some gauze, as people here are buying up whatever they can. But I’m not too worried; I’m wearing out my old things and throwing nothing away that might still be useful, so perhaps what I have—plus what I can still manage to buy—will suffice. I’ll write to Rózia asking her to lay in a stock of silk for us, just so there’s at least one place where we can be sure it’s available. Perhaps I’ll manage to get there to see her. The day after tomorrow, I’m heading to the countryside—to Saunte, to the Sandagerkus boarding house—where I spent that first summer, hoping to put on some weight over three weeks and return here in June, once the city has emptied out a bit and I can more easily look for a room and summer clothes. For July, I’ll likely get a room in a nicer area (Marienlyst), where I’m hoping for French lessons and good company. I feel I’ve calculated things well—generally, I have prospects for a job... in Stockholm. What do you think about the plan to come here? We’d have a good life here—excellent, even, if you like; you might not settle into the local ways right away, but I think you would! Do write. For now, I’m just running errands and buying a few essential odds and ends—I’ve spent a fortune. I’m stocking up on shoes. I’m tempted by a pair of sandals, too—though I hate to part with 18 crowns—but I might change my mind, as they’re lovely English ones.

Sending you my warmest love; I look forward to your thoughts and comments regarding Lis.

Fela

Francia, I’ve just received two letters from you—address: Musia, Bolshoy Kharitonyevsky No. 3, Apt. 15. I’ll reply to everything from the countryside; I’m leaving tomorrow. Love. Do write and tell me if you’re happy about the trip and if Julek is too.

[Google translate from Polish]

Monday

My dear

With what feelings I am writing to you - I knew about it in advance and I was afraid of them. All the [notes?] seemed to concentrate on me - as daughters and sisters. I was torn all the way. I rode very well as usual, but had less peace of mind than I was on that road. The whole Belgian road, at night, they did not stop getting in and out, also not only about sleeping, but there was no question of peace. I was still chasing our strange, Неугомонные [restless] life, which gives neither joy nor great experiences. I drove to the old voids and only in my room did she embrace me with all my strength. It was good for me, she once caressed and pleased me. There again it seemed to me that I would be fine alone and in concentration.

My dear, I let go of this lamentation - and I am returning to the feeling of gratitude that I feel constantly thinking of You. I am sorry that I exposed you to such costs, but knowing how willing you were to bear them, I feel a certain relief. I will not forget it. Please do not smile again, especially let Rafal not nod his head.

How is Mom today? Will you write to me often? Today I am half asleep, so don't blame the nervousness of this letter. Today I wanted from Fr. card that I can get something with this mortgage in Łódź. I don't know anything about it, but how does R. think? Is it real?

My body is not okay. Tomorrow I'm going to the doctor - that's what this [Calv.?]  did to me. But don't be afraid - nothing dangerous, just not better.

I'm going to sleep. I kiss and embrace you warmly. Janeczka[3] especially - and how much I have already thought about her.

F.

Kop. 26.9.31.

My dear,

I am glad that you have prospects for Prof. Tram.[4] But where will he possibly get to? In Bern, Zurich? Wherever, however, you will be better off than in Solo[thurn]. The good thing is that such hope lifts my spirits.

What do you say to the new situation created by the fall of the pound?[5] I don't know, but it seems to me that it is good for Poland and that J. may catch on to something again. Where is he? And where did Lidia go? What is her address? Neither R[osa]. nor J[ulek]. have written anything, nor has Madzia for many months. I have been without any news.

Janka Faust[6] had a son. I asked F. to send me money a little earlier this time, but nothing has arrived to this day. Maybe dollars are hard to come by there (they have apparently become very expensive) and I am not allowed to send them. I only hope that this situation will end soon.

Tell me what you meant when you said that "if I explain myself..." and J.S. Do you think that I explain what I choose? That any publisher to my taste will publish a book? On the contrary, when I go to persuade, they do the opposite. Besides, Nexö[7] is the biggest candidate for the Nobel Prize today, so …….(?) if he has ………(?) to choose? And how, do you think, does your ……..(?) work ……….(?)? Don't you understand at all what you are doing? Where is the point of your intentions? Well – let's not(?). [8]

Be well. F.

Lucca 17.1.48

Via A. Mordini, 62

my dear brother-in-law,

As much as I regret it, as much as I would like to write to you more often, I am unable to find the time and peace of mind to force myself to do so, if only for half an hour. I am completely shaken and so depressed by the living conditions here that I prefer to remain silent than to describe or explain my unrest. Spurred on only by the day when I would like to renew my best wishes to you again, I want to send you these lines. And hopefully I won't have to talk to you at length about how heartfelt and inward my wishes are.

I heard that Franka had a painful and long-term eye condition. I can vividly imagine what that meant for her, and also for you, but I have to be content with only getting brief and insufficient news, because I know that neither Franka nor R[osa]. will ever write me the whole truth. Assuming recovery is ongoing, send best wishes over to m.groin and wait to be informed that full recovery has been made. learned to be patient

I'm in good health. Without a girl, without help, I hold on to my nerves and only do the bare minimum. I would never have believed that – in times of peace – I would live under such conditions. Since I was in Switzerland, my house has been in an uninhabited state. Everything covered with paper, newspapers, things that need dusting and the like – put away in cupboards or boxes. And that's how life is. But "don't ask me - how". I still don't know what happened to the French translation of D. Buche. And what else you have created.

Would it be too much to ask you to write to me?

I greet and kiss you warmly, once again wishing you the very best and the most beautiful

fela

Hand over the small inscription, please, R. Thank you very much.

Lucca 17.8.50.

my dear brother-in-law,

what else you may suspect from my long silence during the sad weeks, I feel that it is time to write to you about the reason for it. Already during and soon after her last stay in Ascona, R[osa]. complained about her various ailments. I collected myself for a long letter in which I described the local conditions to her and said that if I knew that she would feel good in this house, I would have had her come here coûte que coûte [by hook or crook]. I also expressed my fear of not being able to offer her the appropriate medical help and the associated complication from Pisa or Fl[orence]. to call doctors. (Today my only consolation is that she is under expert treatment, what would have become of her in this deep province with incompetent doctors?) I also warned her about the deep loneliness she would find here, loneliness through language, psychological and emotional Attitude, so different here from what she needed, was born before living with the old mother-in-law who sees everyone else in the house as just a competitor for what's due her, she says. I didn't get an answer soon, she came with the news that you were ill, then that she, R., was going to the hospital. When I also heard about D.'s[9] operation and anxiously asked for messages, I was promptly told not to get excited, not to do "ruchawka", and that Franka was right when she said I shouldn't be told anything. And at my suggestion, she wrote that I would not be allowed into her sickroom.

So I had to sit quietly, composing "cold" cards and waiting for news, everything else that has a soul nicely concealed within me. R. kept me up to date as best she could until 25/7. It was with great reassurance and joy that I read that you had soon survived the aftermath of the operation and had fully recovered. But R. has stopped writing since the consultation and I still do not have the statement about her condition. Since I can't ask Franka to think of me any more, I want to present the story to you in silence and ask whether you could not commission someone from D. who could write me Rocia's situation in a few words. It's a matter of a few sentences, but of course it's not important to me to be spared or anything like that. Do not be afraid, I have become very strong, very courageous and very self-controlled - nothing can happen to me, not much else in life, I hope you will count on it, I am right to be informed about my sister.

Thank you very much for what you did for R., what you went through with her. As you can see, it was not possible for me to save you some trouble. Please, receive my words as I write them down, without thinking anything else to you.

With many warmest wishes and greetings, your Fela

I didn't tell mama or Willy[10] anything about D.'s  operation and illness because I didn't know if you wanted it

Google translate from Polish:

[Added at top in German] Best regards to Kätte 

55100 Lucca 1269 F. C. Piazza S. Romano, 5

Frania, what you have achieved now, as a result of suffering, I have been experiencing for decades already, which I have expressed to you more than once and I will not remind you of my words - or your answers. Recently I tried to quote you Shakespeare or Chareot'a who saw more importance in life than in "all" philosophy.[11] I tried in vain to understand me and refer to our age, great-grandmother. Maybe you would finally like to see what guided me? A sense of the end, a sense of a purely human value, not fictional, not imaginary. What I have gone through I cannot express to you in the face of your usual reaction to unconcerned confessions that a miracle that I did not break down. You just congratulated me for not breaking down. A sister-like arrow goes too deep to repeat an attempt at rapprochement, not to understand that you really don't want to have "anything to do with" me. What can you ask from me today? Emergence I tremble not to get a new cheek.

We had to change the apartment because we were excused because they were converting it into offices. The current one is wider, not dark (there were 4 tiny shafts), but it has different felery[?]: and is so much more expensive. My torments are not over yet. Write what you "liquidate" and why? Understand that what must come out of you is to melt the terrible layer of ice, which will set the tone between us. Please, come back to your "I", unspoiled by the hatred of 33 years![12]

Stay healthy, stay healthy

Fela