Philip Larkin: Letters to Monica

by Philip Larkin, Anthony Thwaite (Editor)

Philip Larkin met Monica Jones at University College Leicester in autumn 1946, when they were both twenty-four; he was the newly-appointed assistant librarian and she was an English lecturer. In 1950 Larkin moved to Belfast, and thence to Hull, while Monica remained in Leicester, becoming by turns his correspondent, lover and closest confidante, in a relationship which lasted over forty years until the poet's death in 1985.This remarkable unpublished correspondence only came to light after Monica Jones's death in 2001, and consists of nearly two thousand letters, postcards and telegrams, which chronicle - day by day, sometimes hour by hour - every aspect of Larkin's life and the convolutions of their relationship.

Genres: Poetry, Nonfiction, Literature, Biography, Love, Autobiography, British Literature

508 pages, Kindle Edition

First published October 21, 2010

About the author

Philip Arthur Larkin, CH, CBE, FRSL, was an English poet, novelist and jazz critic. He spent his working life as a university librarian and was offered the Poet Laureateship following the death of John Betjeman, but declined the post. Larkin is commonly regarded as one of the greatest English poets of the latter half of the twentieth century. He first came to prominence with the release of his third collection The Less Deceived in 1955. The Whitsun Weddings and High Windows followed in 1964 and 1974. In 2003 Larkin was chosen as "the nation's best-loved poet" in a survey by the Poetry Book Society, and in 2008 The Times named Larkin as the greatest post-war writer.

Larkin was born in city of Coventry, England, the only son and younger child of Sydney Larkin (1884–1948), city treasurer of Coventry, who came from Lichfield, and his wife, Eva Emily Day (1886–1977), of Epping. From 1930 to 1940 he was educated at King Henry VIII School in Coventry, and in October 1940, in the midst of the Second World War, went up to St John's College, Oxford, to read English language and literature. Having been rejected for military service because of his poor eyesight, Larkin was able, unlike many of his contemporaries, to follow the traditional full-length degree course, taking a first-class degree in 1943. Whilst at Oxford he met Kingsley Amis, who would become a lifelong friend and frequent correspondent. Shortly after graduating he was appointed municipal librarian at Wellington, Shropshire. In 1946, he became assistant librarian at University College, Leicester and in 1955 sub-librarian at Queen's University, Belfast. In March 1955, Larkin was appointed librarian at The University of Hull, a position he retained until his death.

Reviews

[Petra X · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh genius, genius, genius. But I don't think Larkin was a terribly adequate lover or a particulary nice man. Still, Monica was happy enough...

[James Murphy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Philip Larkin met Monica Jones in 1946. They were correspondents and lovers until his death in 1985. Her personification quickly became that of a rabbit, an endearment he continued their entire relationship. Sometimes he referred to himself as a seal. He always called her "bun" and often adorned the letters with little drawings of a rabbit involved in rabbit activities such as cooking or watching television. In reality she was an English professor at University College, Leicester for most of their relationship. Larkin was Assistant Librarian there, later took a position in Belfast, and finally became the Librarian at the University of Hull.

I think my enthusiasm for Letters to Monica, apart from my keen interest in Larkin and his poetry, is because this is a warm love story. Larkin has a bit of a reputation as a curmudgeon. For the most part these letters don't show it. It was only about 1955, after he'd taken the head librarianship at Hull, that he began to grumble in letters to her. Never at her or to her, but he began to complain about some of those he worked with, some writers who were his peers and contacts, and sometimes about activities necessary to administering the library of a major university. But his words for her were always charitable, loving. His genuine affection for her was apparent. The Larkin we see was a much more tender man than I'd thought. Monica often received nothing more than unimportant chatter, an indication to me that the simple postal contact with her was more important than the passing of any meaningful information or ways of thinking. It was important to him to reach out to her. Larkin was at least twice unfaithful to their romance, most notably with an assistant at Hull named Maeve Brennan, while she's reported to have been true to him through all those years, though, described by peers as attractive and sexy, she had many opportunities. But Larkin loved her deeply. He always turned to her for the steadfast support he needed. He always held her close. In the end they lived together, both feebled by illness, for the last 4 years of his life. I was touched by their love, somehow encouraged by his feeling for her. It was a delight to return to these letters day after day to discover what he was going to say to her.

It's too bad more of her letters to Larkin haven't survived. Only too infrequently are portions of what she wrote him presented here as footnotes to explain the content of his reply. I got the impression she might have been sometimes a little depressed. In one quote from September of 1962, for instance, she displayed an overall sadness about life and what she expressed as a sense of futility.

Larkin was a poet, of course, and Monica may have been his best reader. He frequently wrote her about the progress of what he was working on and about the activities involved in getting published and giving readings. It's in discussing the responsibilities of those activities and those he came in contact with while living the life of an active poet and reviewer that some of his famous irritability becomes evident. The technical elements of his writing are left out but the reader can surmise from the context of many letters some idea of meaning. It's in that way that we learn "Broadcast" is about Maeve Brennan.

Though deeply hurt by his brief affairs with other women, Monica remained devoted to him. She loved him back as genuinely as he loved her. And in the end she performed the final task he asked of her, that she destroy his diaries. But luckily for us she didn't destroy the letters he wrote her.

[Coxy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love Larkin's poetry but I started reading this book feeling faintly uncomfortable about the idea that I was about to read extracts from the many hundreds of letters he sent to his - and this is where it starts getting tricky, because how do you describe Monica and the role she played in his life? I suppose it's fair to say she was at best his on-off girlfriend for over 30 years. He said he loved her, and they talked many times about living together and even getting married, but Larkin maintained their separation and indeed had relationships with other women. For me, the most illuminating but most difficult to read section of the book concerned the fallout of Larkin including the poem "Broadcast" in his collection "The Whitsun Weddings" - a poem he wrote about Maeve Brennan, a young fellow librarian at Hull. When Monica found out he had included it, despite her protestations at the time that he would have preserved his feelings for another woman so blatantly in a poem, she wrote a 20 page letter and they met soon after, only to have her be so upset she was physically sick. Larkin remains unrepentant ("Broadcast" is a brilliant poem, why shouldn't it be included?) and sticks by his assertion that he had forgotten it would upset her to include it. It showed him to be either pathologically selfish or genuinely unthinking in matters of the heart. Either way, I'm glad now he had all his other correspondence and his diaries shredded when he died - the more I know of the artist the less I like him.

[Catherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Indeed, although I know you are living there a normal girl I do deeply feel 'somehow' there is a rabbit there too, doing the things you do; even lecturing on Hopkins. It is a strange fancy. I can't explain it. I think perhaps the rabbit takes your place at times, or stays behind when you go out to an evening at the Frasers. Of course I know it doesn't really! but I feel loth to say 'there 'is' no rabbit'. It must be deeply fixed in 'me', & therefore the fault, if there is one, is mine."

"My life is so entirely selfish that mirages of unselfishness torment me. I long to abandon myself entirely to someone else. The peculiarity of my character is that I never feel that there is any mingling - either I don't 'abdicate', & the other person loses, or I do, and I lose myself. A monstrous infantile shell of egotism, inside which I quietly asphyxiate. To read Katherine Mansfield's dreams of a shared life with Murry - this perturbs me greatly. He who shall save his life shall - or the other way round, anyway. To live quietly with and complementarily with another would be extraordinary - almost impossible - I don't know, it's only the fact that I do nothing for anybody that promotes these self-searchings."

"There's something which makes me less good than I ought to be, and I wish it didn't. When I'm away from you I think: Next time we'll really clear away some of the webs between us - & yet when we meet it doesn't happen: I grow still and silent, and never move off the ground of rabbithood, which is all very well but which prevents discussion of the real situation, don't you think? I don't know if it's my fault or yours, or nobody's: I think it's true to say that I do to some extent seize up, automatically, when we meet - but don't take this badly, dear: I'm honestly only trying to explain it away, if that were possible. I mean, obviously there must be something, or we should long ago have settled things. If we are so similar and get on so well & should like the same things, honestly, I don't see what is stopping us. Do you see what I mean, o wise rabbit? It's not really fair of me to make this 'parade of extraordinary frankness' - I don't like it myself - I wish I could decide things, fiercely and for good, and say them - instead of this almost-Russian verbiage, concealing I don't know what, probably nothing but funk. I know you are careful not to 'crowd' me, from motives or decency and pride, and heaven knows I don't want to be crowded, and yet it does to some degree play not into 'my' hands, but into the hands of whatever lies under my delay. I wish I had not started writing this. It was really to apologise for dodging issues at Selby. I feel sometimes that every time we part is a fresh insult to you. 'Anguish of indecision, nine times out of ten, is caused by a decision struggling to be recognised' - that is a quotation from Camembert (fl. 1689) I have just made up."

'Dear sacred cat', 'Dear white and gold', 'I pull your long ears gently'.

[Andrew Darling · Rating 5 out of 5]

'32 Pearson Park, Hull, 27 November 1968.
Dearest bun,
Morning, noon & bloody night
Seven sodding days a week,
I slave at filthy work, that might
Be done by any book-drunk freak.
This goes on till I kick the bucket;
FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT.
Nice to be a pawet, ya knaw, an express ya feelins. Eh? The last line should be screamed in a paroxysm of rage.'

Well, they say he was a misogynist, a fascist, a God knows what-ist. These letters were written over a long period to the woman he loved most (although not the only woman he loved), and they are wonderful. Wise, compassionate, self-critical, profound, and above all hilarious. If he was really all those ists, this book is a vivid demonstration of why such labels are meaningless rubbish. And what a reporter he would have made. This is part of his account of the Orange Lodges marching in Belfast (where he worked for a time before moving to Hull) on 12th July, 1951:
'It reminded me of a parade of the 70,000 Deadly Sins. Take a standard football crowd, cut a fringed orange anti-macassar in two and hang one round the neck of each man: give him large false orange cuffs & white gloves to emphasise the tawdry ugliness of his blue Sunday suit, & clap a bowler hat on his head - then you have a Lodger ready for marching. The dominant impression from this endless tramping file of faces was of really depressing ugliness. Slack, sloppy, sly, drivelling, daft, narrow, knobby, vacant, vicious, vulpine, vulturous - every kind of ugliness was represented, not once but tenfold.'
Letters to Monica is fabulous.

[Ruth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book quite a bit. If you are only going to give one poet a try, I would say look at the poems of Mr. Phillip Larken. He also wrote a few novels and other material.

His day job was the head of a University Library; he seemed very well liked by his staff. Monica is a professor of English at another college and they have a long distance relationship for decades. But the distance is not only abut 100 miles? Phillip is a bit of a weakling, and hates to drive at night, get up early, etc.

In between apologies for his two timing ways and general inadequacies, he is a kind and funny friend to his Rabbit gal, Monica. He has an affair with a person named Maeve, who he works with (she isn't his only affair, that rat), this is a source of discussion. At one point, PL touches on marrying Maeve, who is Catholic, but Mr. bachelor keeps on with his single life. Ahh, it is a man’s world.

As much as Phillip is selfishly ambivalent, Monica seems kind of a pain. But who knows, at the end she was there as his, semi blind semi wife. The book covers years from 48 to 74, and that is a long span. Those of us who are middle age know how things rise and fall, so I don’t want to be mean about their relationship. As unsatisfactory it was for both of them, they stayed together, vacationed together, and, at the end lived together.

Another great part of this book is PL’s visits with Mr. Kingsley. He gripes about him, but still likes him. It is funny,

[Adrian]

Letters from Larkin to his longtime paramour Monica Jones from the late 1940s to 1984. Nearly quit reading this volume five or six times but something drove me on to the finish. I was girding myself for the nasty, racist, homophobic Larkin that was revealed when his first correspondence was published but in this respect found him mild. He comes across as a rather closeted-in man who does a job he hates (librarian) with people he resents. He nurses grudges wonderfully and has a snide view of life with soft touches. Ms. Jones was strung along for years by him- she wanted to marry- and probably deserved better.

[Sam Schulman · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'd rather read Larkin letters than anything ever written, and here are more. Hard to imagine reading this without having read either the big letters collection or the biography, but these form a separate narrative, of a great writer, shy, bad with women, who nevertheless manages to ruin a life or two. I love him and her. I put it down with 50 pages or so to go because I don't want to live through his death again.

[Laura Degenhardt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poor Monica! Fascinating insight into the life of poet Philip Larkin revealed through a long-term correspondence. So intimate at times, felt voyeuristic to be reading. Would either of the writers really have approved of their letters being published?

[Kirsten · Rating 3 out of 5]

Philip Larkin und Monica Jones lernten sich am College von Leicester kennen. Während er kurz darauf nach Belfast und später nach Hull zog, blieb Monica am College und unterrichtete weiter Englisch. Beide blieben weiter befreundet, manchmal auch mehr. Letters to Monica umfasst die Briefe, die Larkin Monica von 1950 bis zu seinem Tod 1985 schrieb.

Ich finde einseitige Briefwechsel immer schwierig, weil der Schreiber quasi in den leeren Raum schreibt und ich nur seine Seite der Dinge kennen lerne. Auch hier kam es mir Anfangs so vor. Philip Larkin schrieb fast nur über alltägliche Dinge und sein Ton gegenüber Monica war eher freundschaftlich und auch ein wenig von oben herab.

Im Verlauf der Korrespondenz änderte sich das. Der Ton gegenüber Monica wurde liebevoller, Larkin bezog sich immer öfter auch auf Dinge, die die gesagt oder erlebt hatte (was man aus den Fußnoten erfahren konnte). Er schrieb immer öfter über die Bücher, die er gerade las und die Menschen, die er traf. Darunter war auch einiges, was ich schon gelesen habe und auch mir bekannte Namen. Interessanterweise hat er meistens eine ganz andere Meinung zu den Büchern als ich.

Gerade, was das Verhältnis zwischen Larkin und Monica betrifft, hätte ich gerne mehr erfahren, dazu hätte ich wahrscheinlich ihre Antworten lesen müssen. Aber auch so waren die Briefe interessant, zwischendurch auch ein wenig langatmig, was sicherlich dem oben erwähnten leeren Raum geschuldet war.

[Jan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fascinating. Gave me a new insight into his relationnship with Monica

[Ruby · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautiful!!!

[Tim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Morning, noon & bloody night,
Seven sodding days a week,
I slave at filthy WORK, that might
Be done by any book-drunk freak.
This goes on until I kick the bucket.
FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT

[Bettie · Rating 1 out of 5]

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/...

blurb - Philip Larkin's Letters to Monica span the forty years of their relationship from 1946 when they met, until Larkin's death in 1985. They only came to light after Monica Jones died in 2001, when nearly two thousand letters were discovered in Larkin's house in Hull. This never previously published correspondence, edited by Anthony Thwaite, offers a unique insight into Larkin's most intimate thoughts.

Philip Larkin writes to Monica about his poetry, his lack of inspiration, his mundane life in Belfast and then Hull, his relationship with her, with his friends (notably Kingsley Amis), his parents and with his other lover Maeve. They often discuss books and reading, writers and writing, and their shared love of animals and Beatrix Potter. Larkin's letters are infused with the music he's listening to, the work he's immersed in, his general domesticity, the food he's eaten, the sounds from the flats below: they paint a vivid picture of the real world that inspired his poetry.

Read by Hugh Bonneville, who recently appeared in ITV's Downton Abbey and BBC TV's The Silence. He has previously played Larkin in Love Again on BBC 2.

It was abridged by Miranda Davies and produced by Lucy Collingwood.

[E · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found that this added depth to some of the poems I have studied, and I did enjoy finding out a bit more about Larkin himself, the man behind the poetry. However, this book is not a autobiography. Much of what Larkin says he repeats and he constantly contradicts himself.
You are almost rooting for Monica to either rid herself of Philip or for Philip to finally marry her. Why he does not I do not quite understand, all I can think is that he was more serious about his writing than he lets on.
My love/hate relationship with Larkin continues.

[Zoe · Rating 3 out of 5]

A strange, strange man. Interspersed with his mundanity are some interesting literary comments in particular the revelation that "The Secret Garden" and "Lady Chatterly's Lover" have striking similarities! But how Monica put up with him I do not know.

[Lorraine · Rating 5 out of 5]

poor old larkin. we have the same mum. only I don't have his talent.

[Jinjer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Most excellent letter writer! Can't wait to read "Letters Home" and "Selected Letters"!