A niece told me yesterday her son’s hand writing is impossible to read. He disagrees saying that only one of his five teachers have complained (so far, in my opinion).
When John Betjeman wrote to Nancy Mitford in 1932 he kicked off by telling her “your handwriting is like that of a maid.” I took him to mean she wrote like my sister, in easily read loopy writing taught to my sister by Miss Byrne perhaps in Castlebellingham or at that school where she got nits but was able to take her pony. Pony, Angela and nits left swiftly and the nits were vanquished before they spread to me. But Nancy Mitford’s writing is not at all like that. It is legible but has a recognisable stamp of individuality.
Here is a letter JB, as he often signed, wrote in the war to Honor Tracy with whom he was working at the Admiralty. To digress, I have read nothing by Honor Tracy and am minded to start with The Straight and Narrow Path.
“Darling Honor,
I loved yesterday. All day, I’ve thought of nothing else. No other love I’ve had means so much. Was it just an aberration on your part, or will you meet me at Mrs Holmes’s again – say on Saturday? I won’t be able to sleep until I have your answer.
Love has given me a miss for so long, and now this miracle has happened. Sex is a part of it, of course, but I have a Romaunt of the Rose feeling about it too. On Saturday we could have lunch at Fortt’s, then go back to Mrs H’s. Never mind if you can’t make it then. I am free on Sunday too or Sunday week. Signal me tomorrow as to whether and when you can come.
Anthony Powell has written to me, and mentions you admiringly. Some of his comments about the Army are v funny. He’s somebody I’d like to know better when the war is over. I find his letters funnier than his books. Tinkerty-tonk, my darling. I pray I’ll hear from you tomorrow. If I don’t I’ll visit your office in a fake beard.
All love, JB”
AN Wilson included it in his 2006 biography of JB but it was omitted in reprints. If you look at the first letters of the sentences they spell “AN Wilson is a shit”. If he discovered who fooled him he hasn’t let on to me and at least pretended to take it as a great joke.
My handwriting is appalling but I pride myself on my writing paper. I used my grandmother’s as a template and was pleased to find Debo Devonshire’s was the same. Now here’s a musical tribute to JB.