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Modern Classics the Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh
Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh were two of the twentieth century's most amusing and gifted writers, who matched wits and traded literary advice in more than five hundred letters over twenty-two years. Dissecting their friends, criticizing each other's books and concealing their true feelings beneath a barrage of hilarious and knowing repartee, they found it far easier to conduct a friendship on paper than in person. This correspondence provides a colourful glimpse into the literary and social circles of London and Paris, during the Second World War and for twenty years after.
531 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1996
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About the author
Charlotte Mosley
14 books29 followersCharlotte Mosley, Diana Mitford's daughter-in-law, has worked as a publisher and journalist. She has published A Talent to Annoy: Essays, Articles, and Reviews by Nancy Mitford; Love from Nancy: The Letters of Nancy Mitford; and The Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh. She lives in Paris.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
March 31, 2025
Waugh is, as you would expect, defiantly himself here: grumpily acerbic and laconically orher-worldly. And Mitford plays his perfect foil: ever-hungry for his effortlessly exhumed, aristocratically-stifled witticisms.
The Perfect Odd Couple!
They have survived Their Finest Hour. The strictures of the War have relegated them to abject boredom.
Each gives the other the fun he or she needs.
Nancy was so bored that, blessed by infertility, she conducted a passionate affair with de Gaulle's future Secretary of State. She uses it to great advantage in a novel I am reading, The Blessing. It is all the more wonderful, being true.
Waugh, on the other hand, had received a commission in the Army, and had seen action in Dakar, Crete and Yugoslavia - after which he helped reconcile the government to the disident Croatian partisans.
Returning to London in 1944, he moved back to the family estate - which he had graciously sublet to a group of Nuns for a wartime convent, and started writing Brideshead Revisited.
And, of course, both their novels when published after VE Day were smash hits.
Mitford and Waugh enjoyed immense literary fame. The War for Waugh, though, had been a disaster, having proved himself a disagreeable army officer and hence blacklisted.
He had no Esprit de Corps! Unlike Mitford's colonel, bedecked with his medailles.
Five Stars. The book, unlike their lives, was Pure Fun!
The Perfect Odd Couple!
They have survived Their Finest Hour. The strictures of the War have relegated them to abject boredom.
Each gives the other the fun he or she needs.
Nancy was so bored that, blessed by infertility, she conducted a passionate affair with de Gaulle's future Secretary of State. She uses it to great advantage in a novel I am reading, The Blessing. It is all the more wonderful, being true.
Waugh, on the other hand, had received a commission in the Army, and had seen action in Dakar, Crete and Yugoslavia - after which he helped reconcile the government to the disident Croatian partisans.
Returning to London in 1944, he moved back to the family estate - which he had graciously sublet to a group of Nuns for a wartime convent, and started writing Brideshead Revisited.
And, of course, both their novels when published after VE Day were smash hits.
Mitford and Waugh enjoyed immense literary fame. The War for Waugh, though, had been a disaster, having proved himself a disagreeable army officer and hence blacklisted.
He had no Esprit de Corps! Unlike Mitford's colonel, bedecked with his medailles.
Five Stars. The book, unlike their lives, was Pure Fun!
October 26, 2019
These letters are the source of a glorious anecdote about Randolf Churchill (son of Winston Churchill). He was being particularly annoying, so Waugh bet him that he couldn't read the whole bible in two weeks, hoping that it would shut him up for two weeks. Instead, Randolf kept reading aloud the most grizzly bits of the Old Testament and laughing 'Isn't God a shit?' It's worth reading the whole thing just for that!
Otherwise, these letters are mostly gossip about mutual acquaintances of Waugh and Mitford. Everybody has a silly nick-name like 'Honks' or 'Bootikins' and when you check the footnotes to figure out who they are it says, in tiny print, something like: 'Lady Mary St Clair-Erskine 1912 - 93. Married to Sir Philip Dunn 1933-44, to Robin Campbell 1946-58, to Charles McCabe 1962-9, and again to Sir Philip Dunn in 1969. Lady Mary had two daughters by Sir Philip but no son.' Which is utterly unilluminating since you've no idea who any of those people are, and still don't know how they relate to Mitford and Waugh. But luckily, as gossip about strangers goes, it's quite interesting because Mitford and Waugh are so entertaining in their spite.
What's very interesting is the feel you get that 'The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there' - especially with regards to morality. Waugh is famously a Catholic, yet they gossip quite without condemnation about who is getting divorced and who's a pansy. There's a tacit acceptance that these things are immoral, without any moral grandstanding, or any desire to cut contact with people or disapprove of them. Funniest of all is the release of the Kinsey report, which comes with a heavy dose of mockery of American prudery: Americans have discovered about homosexuality from a book called Kinsey Report & they take it very seriously. All popular plays in New York are about buggers but they all commit suicide. The idea of a happy pansy is inconceivable to them.' Meanwhile, Nancy complains that her American fans write to her disapprovingly of the gay character Cecil in Love in a Cold Climate and she responds, 'But how can you not love him? He's so sweet!'
Even more disturbing, to the modern reader, is the racism. A man cannot be jewish without Waugh referring to him as 'that little jew', or something in a similar vein that makes you squirm with discomfort. When Waugh catches a Jewish publisher trying to cheat him (by selling rights to another Jewish publisher that he doesn't own) this is accepted matter-of-factly are just Jews being Jews. But there's no hint that this acceptance of stereotypes would stop Waugh from working with or being friends with jewish people. It's very different from nowadays when people seem to be polarised into 'All steretypes are evil lies and people who repeat them must be excluded from society' and 'It's all true and minorities are ruining our country'.
Waugh's xenophobia (he's very rude about Americans, French, Italians, everyone really) is all part and parcel of his character as a grumpy old man - which I'm sure must be partially a performance, although he really grows into it. The contrast between the two of them is wonderful: Waugh hating everything and everyone including his own children and the absolute degeneracy of the modern age; Nancy filled with joy about food, clothes, friends, and sunshine.
The end does become quite melancholy because, of course, they die. Waugh, especially, declines a fair bit towards the end, and the letters taper off as he writes less and less. I'm glad that that they left these letters, and all their other writing, for us to remember them by.
Otherwise, these letters are mostly gossip about mutual acquaintances of Waugh and Mitford. Everybody has a silly nick-name like 'Honks' or 'Bootikins' and when you check the footnotes to figure out who they are it says, in tiny print, something like: 'Lady Mary St Clair-Erskine 1912 - 93. Married to Sir Philip Dunn 1933-44, to Robin Campbell 1946-58, to Charles McCabe 1962-9, and again to Sir Philip Dunn in 1969. Lady Mary had two daughters by Sir Philip but no son.' Which is utterly unilluminating since you've no idea who any of those people are, and still don't know how they relate to Mitford and Waugh. But luckily, as gossip about strangers goes, it's quite interesting because Mitford and Waugh are so entertaining in their spite.
What's very interesting is the feel you get that 'The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there' - especially with regards to morality. Waugh is famously a Catholic, yet they gossip quite without condemnation about who is getting divorced and who's a pansy. There's a tacit acceptance that these things are immoral, without any moral grandstanding, or any desire to cut contact with people or disapprove of them. Funniest of all is the release of the Kinsey report, which comes with a heavy dose of mockery of American prudery: Americans have discovered about homosexuality from a book called Kinsey Report & they take it very seriously. All popular plays in New York are about buggers but they all commit suicide. The idea of a happy pansy is inconceivable to them.' Meanwhile, Nancy complains that her American fans write to her disapprovingly of the gay character Cecil in Love in a Cold Climate and she responds, 'But how can you not love him? He's so sweet!'
Even more disturbing, to the modern reader, is the racism. A man cannot be jewish without Waugh referring to him as 'that little jew', or something in a similar vein that makes you squirm with discomfort. When Waugh catches a Jewish publisher trying to cheat him (by selling rights to another Jewish publisher that he doesn't own) this is accepted matter-of-factly are just Jews being Jews. But there's no hint that this acceptance of stereotypes would stop Waugh from working with or being friends with jewish people. It's very different from nowadays when people seem to be polarised into 'All steretypes are evil lies and people who repeat them must be excluded from society' and 'It's all true and minorities are ruining our country'.
Waugh's xenophobia (he's very rude about Americans, French, Italians, everyone really) is all part and parcel of his character as a grumpy old man - which I'm sure must be partially a performance, although he really grows into it. The contrast between the two of them is wonderful: Waugh hating everything and everyone including his own children and the absolute degeneracy of the modern age; Nancy filled with joy about food, clothes, friends, and sunshine.
The end does become quite melancholy because, of course, they die. Waugh, especially, declines a fair bit towards the end, and the letters taper off as he writes less and less. I'm glad that that they left these letters, and all their other writing, for us to remember them by.
March 25, 2015
This is battle of the bitches. Evelyn wins. Always.
It contains all the ingredients that I don't like, snobbery of the upper classes with the inherent racist and sexist attitudes of the day. Whatever. They were a product of their time and I adored reading their letters, or should I say, I simply longed for them.
If you're new to letter collections and enjoy reading early 20th century English works, then anything by the Mitfords or Evelyn Waugh would be a great place to start. This particular book isn't a quick read, it's over 500 pages and took me almost 7 months to finish, as I dipped in and out of it, but that's how I think it is best appreciated.
Aside from the snarky witticisms of both writers, I particularly enjoyed seeing how they consulted each other regarding their books, discussing their writing processes, asking for advice (usually Nancy asking Evelyn) and lamenting over having to write more in order to finance their style of living. It was also a great who's who of English literature, seeing who they were reading for personal pleasure and what they thought of their contemporaries. As these were personal letters there were no holds barred.
Very much recommend.
It contains all the ingredients that I don't like, snobbery of the upper classes with the inherent racist and sexist attitudes of the day. Whatever. They were a product of their time and I adored reading their letters, or should I say, I simply longed for them.
If you're new to letter collections and enjoy reading early 20th century English works, then anything by the Mitfords or Evelyn Waugh would be a great place to start. This particular book isn't a quick read, it's over 500 pages and took me almost 7 months to finish, as I dipped in and out of it, but that's how I think it is best appreciated.
Aside from the snarky witticisms of both writers, I particularly enjoyed seeing how they consulted each other regarding their books, discussing their writing processes, asking for advice (usually Nancy asking Evelyn) and lamenting over having to write more in order to finance their style of living. It was also a great who's who of English literature, seeing who they were reading for personal pleasure and what they thought of their contemporaries. As these were personal letters there were no holds barred.
Very much recommend.
April 26, 2022
This is a heavily gossipy and intimate volume of letters. Evelyn is constantly in a bad temper (only wants to stay in Italy with his chums, the French only send bad wine, the cheese is made of chalk, Picasso is disgusting, the Brontës are delicate, Randolph Churchill, the only son of Sir Winston Churchill, is only getting fatter every time they meet) and Nancy's pen and tongue sharpen with each passing letter. Makes for a great read as long as one isn't easily intimated by footnotes, there's plenty of Victorian nostalgia and name droppings from the Mitfords, the Churchill clan, the Sackville-Wests and Cecil Beaton to the Sitwells.
A most annoying excerpt from a letter dated 29th of April 1948, by Evelyn:
"Then a great change to Mells ( see here) - have seen all the Pre-Raphaelite paintings."
But unfortunately, the bottom of the barrel of research has been scrapped clean and there is no way of truly knowing which of the Pre-Raphs did he see.
Anecdote, excerpted from a letter dated 4th of January 1946 by Nancy:
"Randolph Churchill says he once read a book that ended badly and hasn't ever been the same since - it was called Tess of the d'Urbervilles. The book was read aloud to father (2d Baron Redesdale) by mother soon after they were married. When he began to cry at the book's ending, she comforted him with: 'Oh darling, it's only a story.' 'What?' he stormed. 'Do you mean the damned sewer invented it??' "
Baron Redesdale's legendary eccentricity was evident from an early age. As a child he was prone to sudden fits of rage. He was totally uninterested in reading or education and wished only to spend his time riding. He later liked to boast that he had read only one book in his life, Jack London's novel White Fang on the grounds that he had enjoyed it so much he had vowed never to read another, but in fact, he read most of his daughters' books.
A most annoying excerpt from a letter dated 29th of April 1948, by Evelyn:
"Then a great change to Mells ( see here) - have seen all the Pre-Raphaelite paintings."
But unfortunately, the bottom of the barrel of research has been scrapped clean and there is no way of truly knowing which of the Pre-Raphs did he see.
Anecdote, excerpted from a letter dated 4th of January 1946 by Nancy:
"Randolph Churchill says he once read a book that ended badly and hasn't ever been the same since - it was called Tess of the d'Urbervilles. The book was read aloud to father (2d Baron Redesdale) by mother soon after they were married. When he began to cry at the book's ending, she comforted him with: 'Oh darling, it's only a story.' 'What?' he stormed. 'Do you mean the damned sewer invented it??' "
Baron Redesdale's legendary eccentricity was evident from an early age. As a child he was prone to sudden fits of rage. He was totally uninterested in reading or education and wished only to spend his time riding. He later liked to boast that he had read only one book in his life, Jack London's novel White Fang on the grounds that he had enjoyed it so much he had vowed never to read another, but in fact, he read most of his daughters' books.
August 28, 2019
Rather rude and naughty, but they fequently made me giggle.
July 28, 2016
Oh my god I can't believe that I have finally finished this book. I don't think I have ever read anything so slowly. Which doesn't mean that it was bad. But I am too exhausted too voice an opinion on it. Perhaps will edit the "review" in the near future when I have discussed the book with my brilliant reading buddies whom I read it together with.
February 18, 2013
If at times these letters, especially in the beginning, are too gossipy and require too much reference to footnotes (who are these people?), they settle into more consistent snark and discussion of writing, a circle of friends, life in England and France (and criticism of the US), and growing old. Waugh works at his misanthropic tendencies ("The more I see of other people's children the less I dislike my own.") and Mitford is a good foil, with her forced good humor covering her own domestic troubles. Fine bed-time reading.
June 22, 2009
For years, after her move to France, Nancy Mitford would write Evelyn Waugh an early January letter lamenting the passing of the past year--in her memory it was the best year ever. Waugh was always sour, indignant and condescending in reply. After the first year she was definitely at least partly teasing him--it was one of her favorite things to do. But what I like about Nancy Mitford as shown through these letters was her absolute determination to have fun, be happy and surround herself with as much beauty as possible even when her life was far from perfect.
February 17, 2014
An excellent and highly entertaining book, chock full of letters, notes and photos from the Mitford-Waugh world, from the "group of London socialites know as the Bright Young Things."
The correspondence between Evelyn Waugh and Nancy Mitford comprises just over 500 letters, some 200 from Evelyn and 300 from Nancy.
Both Nancy and Evelyn had the gift of writing letters as though they were talking to each other. Reading their correspondence is like overhearing a conversation between two quick-witted, provocative, very funny friends. It is rare for such a long correspondence to be so readable throughout -- a testimony to the pleasure they both derived from it.
Evelyn enjoyed the company of women and had other regular female correspondents, including Ann Fleming and Diana Cooper, who were the kind of clever, stylish femmes du monde he admired. Nancy was a femme de lettres as well. She corresponded with other literary figures such as Raymond Mortimer and Heywood Hill, but none inspired her to the same heights of sustained levity and wit as Evelyn.
Their friendship was primarily a literary one; although they were deeply fond of each other, they were never romantically involved. Both were reticent about expressing their deeper emotions and they rarely discussed the intimate details of their lives. Concealing their feelings behind a barrage of banter, they found it easier to conduct a friendship on paper rather than in person. When they did meet, Evelyn's bad temper and Nancy's sharp tongue -- qualities that enhance their correspondence -- often led to quarrels.
They shared a nostalgia for a passing way of life which depended on a small group of people, aristocratic by birth and mentality.
Nancy and Evelyn met in the summer of 1928. At 24, he had just married Evelyn Gardner, a close friend of Nancy. (Their marriage later split up.) Nancy, a year younger than Evelyn (who was born in 1903), was living out a prolonged adolescence; she longed to be independent of her strict parents and was seeking ways to earn a living.
Raymond Mortimer and Debo (Deborah Mitford Mortimer)
7 January 1946 12 Blomfield Road, W9
Darling Evelyn
Don't be depressed about your children. Childhood is a hateful age -- no trailing clouds of glory -- & children are generally either prigs or gangsters & always dull & always ugly. There is a young woman who lives next door here with 3 & I pity her from morning to night (& she pities me, so all is well really). I mind less & less not having any except I do think when they are puppies, from 1 to 4 they are rather heaven. 4-20 is unbearable. - NM
11 June 1946
Darling Nancy
God I wish I had some neighbours I could bear to speak to. There must be plenty in this populous countryside but they never come our way.
Love from
Evelyn
At the end of 1947, after 18 months of living in hotel rooms and borrowed flats in Paris, Nancy found a permanent home of her own in a rented apartment on the ground floor of a handsome 18th-century house in the rue Monsieur. Gaston Palewski had not encouraged her move to Paris and kept her at arm's length when she arrived, making it quite clear that he was not in love with her and had no intention of being faithful. Nevertheless, Nancy nurtured the hope that she was an essential part of his life and organised her days around the short moments he would spare her. Her husband Peter was an intermittent visitor, appearing when he had nowhere else to go or was in need of money.
Despite the unsatisfactory nature of her relationship with the Colonel (Gaston was a French colonel attached to General de Gaulle's London staff), Nancy as far from unhappy; Love in a Cold Climate was another best seller and she was able for the first time in her life to indulge her love of expensive clothes and pretty objects of art.
habituée - a resident of or frequent visitor to a particular place
Evelyn's experiences as a soldier were to provide him with material for some of his best writing: Sword of Honour trilogy. But was also destroyed the values and way of life he held dear. He was only 42 at the end of the war but thereafter began to adopt the stance of an old man. Like the hero of his novel, his strongest tastes were negative, and he abhorred everything that had happened in his lifetime.
In light of his distaste for the modern world, his liking for America was unexpected; but his books sold well there and brought in substantial royalties. He also knew that showing enthusiasm for the country was an unfailingly successful way of teasing Nancy, whose anti-Americanism was irrationally violent. Evelyn and (his second wife) Laura Herbert spent the first 3 months of 1947 in America as guests of MGM who had bought the rights to Brideshead Revisited.
9 June 1949 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
Having met her (you know how people one hasn't seen are the purest shadows) I feel some compunction about having written to you about Miss Brown. Please don't get bell, book, candle & the Inquisition to do their worst to her, & please forget what I said. She is such a little darling, so young pretty touching & in love I nearly cried every time I looked at her. Very Catholic, clearly eaten with a sense of Sin.
Hamish Hamilton wants me to write a short accoutn of my life for publicity. Alas I have sat in front of ablank page for an hour, to which you really owe this letter. I literally cannot think of one thing to say.
Love from
Nancy
P.S. I am slightly in love with Mom's general, did he mind about Randolph -- please answer.
[Mono Marriott and Randolph Churchill had an affair in Cairo during the war.]
12 July 1949 Chez la Princesse Radziwill
Marseille
Darling Evelyn
I was delighted to get your letter. I am here on holiday (holiday from waht? as my Nanny used to say) in perfect happiness -- boiling from heat charming friends & exactly nothing to do except decide at what hour to go down to the rocks & swim. Colonel has been here & may come back... I've got my Princesse de Clèves (a French novel which was published anonymously in March 1678 and considered the first historical novel) with me to give that nice feeling of I really ought to do some work but think I'll go to sleep instead...
I'm sure the Queen is awful, everything I hear confirms this impression. Probably you can't not be if you are a Queen, excellent reason for getting rid of them as they have here.
I think it's rather silly for two people who hate each other as much as the Sykeses do to go & live in the country together. May it not end in murder?
[Christopher and Camilla Sykes had moved to Dorset.]
26 September 1949 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
Your letter -- blissipots. Debo is here so I've got this nice new word, she is living in a suite with Mr. Tom the lvoer of Princess Margaret & they are called the sinners on account of living in, & oh the rush. I'm worn out but they leave tomorrow.
20 December 1949
Darling Nancy
So I went to my club where men of influence & discrimination congregate and all were full of praise of your PSunday Times article...
I want to send you Gathorne-Hardy's Logan Pearsall Smith -- a harassing account of the humiliations of a legacy hunter. Have you got it? Can you still easily read English? It is an enchanting book and I was impressed to learn that in old age Pearsall Smith indulged in sending indecent anonymous letters to his acquaintances.
I met Pam Berry white as a sheet and crazy as a March Hare but we kissed & more or less made it up.
Well, a happy pagan festival of the Tree to you.
Say if you'd like a food parcel. We killed a pig.
Death to Honks.
E
22 May 1950 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
I enjoyed your visit terrifically though of course the responsibility harrowed me & so did the fact that for some reason Xopher [Sykes] got a very much better lunchyon (as Col calls it) here than you did & of course shovelled it in without noticing what loovely stoof it was. The food here is really outside my control on account of Marie being a saint.
Who is Emily Post please? The NS & N says I am the modern she.
I shan't be able to write for an age which is why I seize my pen at once. Tomorrow 40 intellectuals here to meet the H[amish] Hamiltons - then Peter Brook (the most original theatre director of his generation was just 25 and the enfant terrible of the British stage) & Robert Morley (took the part of the cuckolded husband in The Little Hut) to talk abou thte play, then Debo & Mr Peters together, oh my life.
Love to Laura -- hope she's better, do say.
Love
NR
25 May 1950 Piers Court, Stinchcombe
Darling Nancy,
Emily Post is not a very gratifying comparison. She was the great American authority on etiquette and a very bad authority, too.
Larua is much better, leading a nice lazy life warm in bed in freezing room where I sit most of the day.
I read that all the French police are on strike. That must be a comfort for all.
Ronnie is sitting saying his rosary over the fire. Is that a good sign? I fear not.
Love from
E
Love to Debo -- a faint fragrance of dead romance.
H. Hamilton indeed. Why do I dislike him? I don't know him at all & he has done me no injury, but I wish him boiled in oil.
28 May 1950 Piers Court, Stinchcombe
Darling Nancy
Try & get hold of New Yorker for May 13th. I has a gruesome & fascinating description of Mr Ernest Hemingway.
[A famous profile by Lillian Ross, in which she described 2 days spent in the company of the heavy-drinking author while he talked non-stop about war, guns and champagne. (Reprinted by Penguin Books in 1962.)]
14 January Piers Court, Stinchcombe
Sweet 1952 never been kissed
Darling Nancy
So I have been doing sums for weeks & find I am hopelessly ruined (financially not morally). So I have come to a Great Decision to Change my Life entirely. I am sacking all the servants (five does seem a lot to look after Laura & me in a house the size of a boot) and becoming Bohemian... I make 10,000 pounds a year, which used to be thought quite a lot, I live like a mouse in shabby-genteel circumstances, I keep no women or horses or yachts, yet I am bankrupt, simply by the politicans buying votes with my money.
The trouble is getting servants to go. There is no shortage of them now because no one can afford them. And they cannot become harlots because apparently men don't pay women now, they just rape them & take their money.
I have read the papers & learned that the Gaullists are collaborating with the Communists. Is this your influence or just a newspaper lie.
I don't think you quite appreciate the great Importance of my Discovery about Gentlemen. It explains all our national greatness 1815-1914 -- that everyone felt his natural allies to be those above him (and in his eyes equal) in Social Scale. Perhaps everyone has known this fact for years.
All love
E
You know I call Honks 'Baby'? Embarrassing but true. Anyway I got a made letter the other day of the kind one gets most days. No interest. High brow madness typewritten in English. The odd thing was that the address was 'Chez Baby' 16 Rue de Condé, Paris VI. It began 'Dear E.W.' and was signed 'Mary O'Connor'. Is Chez Baby a night club? But one doesn't take a typewriter to a night club -- or does one now? I thought i very rum.
15 January 1952 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
Life without servants is not worth living -- better cut down in any other way. I can't understand why you don't come & live here... Every minute of eery day here is bliss & when I wake up in the morning I feel as excited as if it were my birthday.
12 February 1942 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
I'm very sorry about your ill health. I think the winter in Northern Europe is very trying to (what fashion papers call) the over forties. I keep well by staying in my little warm box of a room, temp: over 80, seldom going out & never staying away.
But were it not for Col I'd go & live in teh South all the winter.
Come soon for a little visit ça vous changera les idées.
Love
NR
25 August 1952
Dearest Nancy
A propose of your comment on the French grief when people die...
['The French hate death, the English rather welcome it for their friends and relations... The French passionately mourn and miss their friends and woudl like to keep them on earth at the price of almost any suffering.' Sunday Times, 17 Aug 1952
EW: [after a trip to Goa and South India]: I can only bear intimacy really & after that formality or servility. The horrible thing is familiarity.
28 May 1953
NM: The American here have got a tube called Kwikwip out of awhich they squeeze whipped cream on to their fruit. It makes a disgusting noise. Ugh.
19 October 1953
Darling Evelyn
Charmerende og vittig som Oscar Wilde, funklende som Evelyn Waugh. These magic words occur on L in a C Climate in Danish.
[translates to: Charming and witty as Oscar Wilde, sparkling as Evelyn Waugh.)
11 December 1953
EW: My broadcast was pretty dull. They tried to make a fool of me & I don't believe they entirely succeeded.
I am stuck in my book from sheer boredom. I know what to write but just can't make the effort to write it.
See how I praise Sykes.
[Evelyn enclosed his review of A Song of a Shirt in which he praised the novel's originality and humour. Time and Tide, 12 December 1953.
October 1956
Darling
Could you be very kind & translate for me something into idiomatic U French a few lines of dialogue for something I am writing
Would it be an awful bore to translate that for me?
Much love
Evelyn
19 October 1956 Fontaines-les-Nonne par Puisieux for a few more days
Darling Evelyn
Voltaire minded passionately about Xian burial & one of the greatest fusses of his whole life was made because Adrienne Lecouvreur was refused it. At Cirey he built the chapel next door to his bedroom so that he could hear the Mass when he was ill. He loved God, I promise you.
--
When her mother died in May 1963, Nancy wrote to the Colonel: I have a feeling nothing really nice will ever happen again in my life, things will just go from bad to worse, leading to old age & death.
In spite of these gloomy predictions, the next five years of Nancy's life were not without happiness.
Evelyn bowed out of the world...
---
EW: Don't please strain your poor eyes & waste your valuable time in answering.
'Rome s'ennuie de vous' = Rome bores herself without you.
EW: Darling Nancy, I haven't said a word of sympathy about your mother's illness, but I feel it keely.
29 May 1963 4 Chesterfield Street, W1
Darling Evelyn,
Your letter arrived at a very good moment for me, just as we were leaving the island & cheered me up considerably during our journey South of 12 hours.
We took my mother over the water to Mull on a marvellous evening, 8 pm, with the bagpipes wailing away, it was very beautiful. All the men of the neighbourhood came, all talking Gaelic to each other (since you ask).
It seemed all real, not like when one dies in at the London Clinic. Also the good Scotch doctor didn't insist on cruel things to keep her alive a few more days -- the nurses said in a hospital it would have been very different.
We are all pretty tired. The funeral is tomorrow.
Much love and thank-you dearest Evelyn
Nancy
[Lady Redesdale died on 25 May, soon after her 83rd birthday. She had been living since the war on an island off the west coast of Scotland, Inchkenneth.]
29 October 1963
EW: As for that girl's heart, it will mend quickly.
Old people are more interesting than young. One of the particular points of interest is to observe how after 50 they revert to the habits, mannerism and opinions of their parents, however wild they were in youth.
All Souls' Day [2 November] 1963
Darling Evelyn
I love you passionately & copy you slavishly as you very well know & certainly didn't mean to be odious --
Deep love -- live another 60 years please -- from your devoted disciple.
NR
When you state that middle aged people become their parent you are merely agreeing with me that they become bores. What you mean is they are like what their parents were in middle age viz duller than in youth. QED
[QED is an initialism of the Latin phrase quod erat demonstrandum - that which was to be demonstrated. The phrase is traditionally placed in its abbreviated form at the end of a mathematical proof or philosophical argument when what was specified in the enunciation — and in the setting-out—has been exactly restated as the conclusion of the demonstration.]
10 February 1965
NM: How's your health? I would love to see you but can't get away for some time as next I'm going to work on a film (funny) about cannibals.
[La plus perdue de toutes les journées est celle où l'on n'a pas ri -- The most wasted of all days is that on which one has not laughed. Chamfort's maxim was engraved on the sundial at Madresfield Court.]
Shrove Tuesday [2 March] 1965
EW: Oh what a whine this is. No doubt my spirits will improve when I am toothless.
25 January 1966
EW: I was aghast to read of your nephew's (Taffy's boy's) death and have heard no explanation for it. He was given a Requiem Mass so I presume he had lost his reason.
I admire your new NOTE paper.
Handwriting -- a lot depends on health. I have trembling hands nowadays. Not drink -- I have lost the art of eating.
Best love
E
Evelyn died of a heart attach on Easter Day, 10 April 1966. Nancy wrote to his widow: "Oh Laura I am so miserable. I loved Evelyn I really think the best of all my friends, & then such an old friend, such a part of my life... For him, one can only say he did hate the modern world, which does not become more liveable every day."
On 20 March 1969, Colonel Palewski married Violette de Talleyrand-Périgord (1915–2003) with whom he had been in love for many years.
The end of Evelyn's suffering marked the beginning of Nancy. She died on 30 June 1973.
The correspondence between Evelyn Waugh and Nancy Mitford comprises just over 500 letters, some 200 from Evelyn and 300 from Nancy.
Both Nancy and Evelyn had the gift of writing letters as though they were talking to each other. Reading their correspondence is like overhearing a conversation between two quick-witted, provocative, very funny friends. It is rare for such a long correspondence to be so readable throughout -- a testimony to the pleasure they both derived from it.
Evelyn enjoyed the company of women and had other regular female correspondents, including Ann Fleming and Diana Cooper, who were the kind of clever, stylish femmes du monde he admired. Nancy was a femme de lettres as well. She corresponded with other literary figures such as Raymond Mortimer and Heywood Hill, but none inspired her to the same heights of sustained levity and wit as Evelyn.
Their friendship was primarily a literary one; although they were deeply fond of each other, they were never romantically involved. Both were reticent about expressing their deeper emotions and they rarely discussed the intimate details of their lives. Concealing their feelings behind a barrage of banter, they found it easier to conduct a friendship on paper rather than in person. When they did meet, Evelyn's bad temper and Nancy's sharp tongue -- qualities that enhance their correspondence -- often led to quarrels.
They shared a nostalgia for a passing way of life which depended on a small group of people, aristocratic by birth and mentality.
Nancy and Evelyn met in the summer of 1928. At 24, he had just married Evelyn Gardner, a close friend of Nancy. (Their marriage later split up.) Nancy, a year younger than Evelyn (who was born in 1903), was living out a prolonged adolescence; she longed to be independent of her strict parents and was seeking ways to earn a living.
Raymond Mortimer and Debo (Deborah Mitford Mortimer)
7 January 1946 12 Blomfield Road, W9
Darling Evelyn
Don't be depressed about your children. Childhood is a hateful age -- no trailing clouds of glory -- & children are generally either prigs or gangsters & always dull & always ugly. There is a young woman who lives next door here with 3 & I pity her from morning to night (& she pities me, so all is well really). I mind less & less not having any except I do think when they are puppies, from 1 to 4 they are rather heaven. 4-20 is unbearable. - NM
11 June 1946
Darling Nancy
God I wish I had some neighbours I could bear to speak to. There must be plenty in this populous countryside but they never come our way.
Love from
Evelyn
At the end of 1947, after 18 months of living in hotel rooms and borrowed flats in Paris, Nancy found a permanent home of her own in a rented apartment on the ground floor of a handsome 18th-century house in the rue Monsieur. Gaston Palewski had not encouraged her move to Paris and kept her at arm's length when she arrived, making it quite clear that he was not in love with her and had no intention of being faithful. Nevertheless, Nancy nurtured the hope that she was an essential part of his life and organised her days around the short moments he would spare her. Her husband Peter was an intermittent visitor, appearing when he had nowhere else to go or was in need of money.
Despite the unsatisfactory nature of her relationship with the Colonel (Gaston was a French colonel attached to General de Gaulle's London staff), Nancy as far from unhappy; Love in a Cold Climate was another best seller and she was able for the first time in her life to indulge her love of expensive clothes and pretty objects of art.
habituée - a resident of or frequent visitor to a particular place
Evelyn's experiences as a soldier were to provide him with material for some of his best writing: Sword of Honour trilogy. But was also destroyed the values and way of life he held dear. He was only 42 at the end of the war but thereafter began to adopt the stance of an old man. Like the hero of his novel, his strongest tastes were negative, and he abhorred everything that had happened in his lifetime.
In light of his distaste for the modern world, his liking for America was unexpected; but his books sold well there and brought in substantial royalties. He also knew that showing enthusiasm for the country was an unfailingly successful way of teasing Nancy, whose anti-Americanism was irrationally violent. Evelyn and (his second wife) Laura Herbert spent the first 3 months of 1947 in America as guests of MGM who had bought the rights to Brideshead Revisited.
9 June 1949 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
Having met her (you know how people one hasn't seen are the purest shadows) I feel some compunction about having written to you about Miss Brown. Please don't get bell, book, candle & the Inquisition to do their worst to her, & please forget what I said. She is such a little darling, so young pretty touching & in love I nearly cried every time I looked at her. Very Catholic, clearly eaten with a sense of Sin.
Hamish Hamilton wants me to write a short accoutn of my life for publicity. Alas I have sat in front of ablank page for an hour, to which you really owe this letter. I literally cannot think of one thing to say.
Love from
Nancy
P.S. I am slightly in love with Mom's general, did he mind about Randolph -- please answer.
[Mono Marriott and Randolph Churchill had an affair in Cairo during the war.]
12 July 1949 Chez la Princesse Radziwill
Marseille
Darling Evelyn
I was delighted to get your letter. I am here on holiday (holiday from waht? as my Nanny used to say) in perfect happiness -- boiling from heat charming friends & exactly nothing to do except decide at what hour to go down to the rocks & swim. Colonel has been here & may come back... I've got my Princesse de Clèves (a French novel which was published anonymously in March 1678 and considered the first historical novel) with me to give that nice feeling of I really ought to do some work but think I'll go to sleep instead...
I'm sure the Queen is awful, everything I hear confirms this impression. Probably you can't not be if you are a Queen, excellent reason for getting rid of them as they have here.
I think it's rather silly for two people who hate each other as much as the Sykeses do to go & live in the country together. May it not end in murder?
[Christopher and Camilla Sykes had moved to Dorset.]
26 September 1949 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
Your letter -- blissipots. Debo is here so I've got this nice new word, she is living in a suite with Mr. Tom the lvoer of Princess Margaret & they are called the sinners on account of living in, & oh the rush. I'm worn out but they leave tomorrow.
20 December 1949
Darling Nancy
So I went to my club where men of influence & discrimination congregate and all were full of praise of your PSunday Times article...
I want to send you Gathorne-Hardy's Logan Pearsall Smith -- a harassing account of the humiliations of a legacy hunter. Have you got it? Can you still easily read English? It is an enchanting book and I was impressed to learn that in old age Pearsall Smith indulged in sending indecent anonymous letters to his acquaintances.
I met Pam Berry white as a sheet and crazy as a March Hare but we kissed & more or less made it up.
Well, a happy pagan festival of the Tree to you.
Say if you'd like a food parcel. We killed a pig.
Death to Honks.
E
22 May 1950 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
I enjoyed your visit terrifically though of course the responsibility harrowed me & so did the fact that for some reason Xopher [Sykes] got a very much better lunchyon (as Col calls it) here than you did & of course shovelled it in without noticing what loovely stoof it was. The food here is really outside my control on account of Marie being a saint.
Who is Emily Post please? The NS & N says I am the modern she.
I shan't be able to write for an age which is why I seize my pen at once. Tomorrow 40 intellectuals here to meet the H[amish] Hamiltons - then Peter Brook (the most original theatre director of his generation was just 25 and the enfant terrible of the British stage) & Robert Morley (took the part of the cuckolded husband in The Little Hut) to talk abou thte play, then Debo & Mr Peters together, oh my life.
Love to Laura -- hope she's better, do say.
Love
NR
25 May 1950 Piers Court, Stinchcombe
Darling Nancy,
Emily Post is not a very gratifying comparison. She was the great American authority on etiquette and a very bad authority, too.
Larua is much better, leading a nice lazy life warm in bed in freezing room where I sit most of the day.
I read that all the French police are on strike. That must be a comfort for all.
Ronnie is sitting saying his rosary over the fire. Is that a good sign? I fear not.
Love from
E
Love to Debo -- a faint fragrance of dead romance.
H. Hamilton indeed. Why do I dislike him? I don't know him at all & he has done me no injury, but I wish him boiled in oil.
28 May 1950 Piers Court, Stinchcombe
Darling Nancy
Try & get hold of New Yorker for May 13th. I has a gruesome & fascinating description of Mr Ernest Hemingway.
[A famous profile by Lillian Ross, in which she described 2 days spent in the company of the heavy-drinking author while he talked non-stop about war, guns and champagne. (Reprinted by Penguin Books in 1962.)]
14 January Piers Court, Stinchcombe
Sweet 1952 never been kissed
Darling Nancy
So I have been doing sums for weeks & find I am hopelessly ruined (financially not morally). So I have come to a Great Decision to Change my Life entirely. I am sacking all the servants (five does seem a lot to look after Laura & me in a house the size of a boot) and becoming Bohemian... I make 10,000 pounds a year, which used to be thought quite a lot, I live like a mouse in shabby-genteel circumstances, I keep no women or horses or yachts, yet I am bankrupt, simply by the politicans buying votes with my money.
The trouble is getting servants to go. There is no shortage of them now because no one can afford them. And they cannot become harlots because apparently men don't pay women now, they just rape them & take their money.
I have read the papers & learned that the Gaullists are collaborating with the Communists. Is this your influence or just a newspaper lie.
I don't think you quite appreciate the great Importance of my Discovery about Gentlemen. It explains all our national greatness 1815-1914 -- that everyone felt his natural allies to be those above him (and in his eyes equal) in Social Scale. Perhaps everyone has known this fact for years.
All love
E
You know I call Honks 'Baby'? Embarrassing but true. Anyway I got a made letter the other day of the kind one gets most days. No interest. High brow madness typewritten in English. The odd thing was that the address was 'Chez Baby' 16 Rue de Condé, Paris VI. It began 'Dear E.W.' and was signed 'Mary O'Connor'. Is Chez Baby a night club? But one doesn't take a typewriter to a night club -- or does one now? I thought i very rum.
15 January 1952 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
Life without servants is not worth living -- better cut down in any other way. I can't understand why you don't come & live here... Every minute of eery day here is bliss & when I wake up in the morning I feel as excited as if it were my birthday.
12 February 1942 7 rue Monsieur, VII
Darling Evelyn
I'm very sorry about your ill health. I think the winter in Northern Europe is very trying to (what fashion papers call) the over forties. I keep well by staying in my little warm box of a room, temp: over 80, seldom going out & never staying away.
But were it not for Col I'd go & live in teh South all the winter.
Come soon for a little visit ça vous changera les idées.
Love
NR
25 August 1952
Dearest Nancy
A propose of your comment on the French grief when people die...
['The French hate death, the English rather welcome it for their friends and relations... The French passionately mourn and miss their friends and woudl like to keep them on earth at the price of almost any suffering.' Sunday Times, 17 Aug 1952
EW: [after a trip to Goa and South India]: I can only bear intimacy really & after that formality or servility. The horrible thing is familiarity.
28 May 1953
NM: The American here have got a tube called Kwikwip out of awhich they squeeze whipped cream on to their fruit. It makes a disgusting noise. Ugh.
19 October 1953
Darling Evelyn
Charmerende og vittig som Oscar Wilde, funklende som Evelyn Waugh. These magic words occur on L in a C Climate in Danish.
[translates to: Charming and witty as Oscar Wilde, sparkling as Evelyn Waugh.)
11 December 1953
EW: My broadcast was pretty dull. They tried to make a fool of me & I don't believe they entirely succeeded.
I am stuck in my book from sheer boredom. I know what to write but just can't make the effort to write it.
See how I praise Sykes.
[Evelyn enclosed his review of A Song of a Shirt in which he praised the novel's originality and humour. Time and Tide, 12 December 1953.
October 1956
Darling
Could you be very kind & translate for me something into idiomatic U French a few lines of dialogue for something I am writing
Would it be an awful bore to translate that for me?
Much love
Evelyn
19 October 1956 Fontaines-les-Nonne par Puisieux for a few more days
Darling Evelyn
Voltaire minded passionately about Xian burial & one of the greatest fusses of his whole life was made because Adrienne Lecouvreur was refused it. At Cirey he built the chapel next door to his bedroom so that he could hear the Mass when he was ill. He loved God, I promise you.
--
When her mother died in May 1963, Nancy wrote to the Colonel: I have a feeling nothing really nice will ever happen again in my life, things will just go from bad to worse, leading to old age & death.
In spite of these gloomy predictions, the next five years of Nancy's life were not without happiness.
Evelyn bowed out of the world...
---
EW: Don't please strain your poor eyes & waste your valuable time in answering.
'Rome s'ennuie de vous' = Rome bores herself without you.
EW: Darling Nancy, I haven't said a word of sympathy about your mother's illness, but I feel it keely.
29 May 1963 4 Chesterfield Street, W1
Darling Evelyn,
Your letter arrived at a very good moment for me, just as we were leaving the island & cheered me up considerably during our journey South of 12 hours.
We took my mother over the water to Mull on a marvellous evening, 8 pm, with the bagpipes wailing away, it was very beautiful. All the men of the neighbourhood came, all talking Gaelic to each other (since you ask).
It seemed all real, not like when one dies in at the London Clinic. Also the good Scotch doctor didn't insist on cruel things to keep her alive a few more days -- the nurses said in a hospital it would have been very different.
We are all pretty tired. The funeral is tomorrow.
Much love and thank-you dearest Evelyn
Nancy
[Lady Redesdale died on 25 May, soon after her 83rd birthday. She had been living since the war on an island off the west coast of Scotland, Inchkenneth.]
29 October 1963
EW: As for that girl's heart, it will mend quickly.
Old people are more interesting than young. One of the particular points of interest is to observe how after 50 they revert to the habits, mannerism and opinions of their parents, however wild they were in youth.
All Souls' Day [2 November] 1963
Darling Evelyn
I love you passionately & copy you slavishly as you very well know & certainly didn't mean to be odious --
Deep love -- live another 60 years please -- from your devoted disciple.
NR
When you state that middle aged people become their parent you are merely agreeing with me that they become bores. What you mean is they are like what their parents were in middle age viz duller than in youth. QED
[QED is an initialism of the Latin phrase quod erat demonstrandum - that which was to be demonstrated. The phrase is traditionally placed in its abbreviated form at the end of a mathematical proof or philosophical argument when what was specified in the enunciation — and in the setting-out—has been exactly restated as the conclusion of the demonstration.]
10 February 1965
NM: How's your health? I would love to see you but can't get away for some time as next I'm going to work on a film (funny) about cannibals.
[La plus perdue de toutes les journées est celle où l'on n'a pas ri -- The most wasted of all days is that on which one has not laughed. Chamfort's maxim was engraved on the sundial at Madresfield Court.]
Shrove Tuesday [2 March] 1965
EW: Oh what a whine this is. No doubt my spirits will improve when I am toothless.
25 January 1966
EW: I was aghast to read of your nephew's (Taffy's boy's) death and have heard no explanation for it. He was given a Requiem Mass so I presume he had lost his reason.
I admire your new NOTE paper.
Handwriting -- a lot depends on health. I have trembling hands nowadays. Not drink -- I have lost the art of eating.
Best love
E
Evelyn died of a heart attach on Easter Day, 10 April 1966. Nancy wrote to his widow: "Oh Laura I am so miserable. I loved Evelyn I really think the best of all my friends, & then such an old friend, such a part of my life... For him, one can only say he did hate the modern world, which does not become more liveable every day."
On 20 March 1969, Colonel Palewski married Violette de Talleyrand-Périgord (1915–2003) with whom he had been in love for many years.
The end of Evelyn's suffering marked the beginning of Nancy. She died on 30 June 1973.
April 4, 2015
As one of the blurbs says, "there may have been easier people than Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh, but it's doubtful there were many funnier." Reading this book is like being part of a lengthy, gossipy conversation between two old, and highly amusing friends. Interesting people recur in the correspondence - Graham Greene, Randolph Churchill. We become familiar with the other Mitford sisters, especially Debo (Deborah), Diana, and Decca (Jessica), and the lovely Honks (Diana) Cooper. One is left with the undeniable impression that neither Mitford nor Waugh would have liked one (as Nancy might say). The letters do take on more than a tinge of sadness as old age encroaches, the world changes, and friends and children of friends die with alarming rapidity. When I closed the book today, just days before the 49th anniversary of Waugh's death, and knowing that Nancy's last years were marked by illness and heartache, I felt rather sad. But still, highly recommended.
February 28, 2011
I believe that Waugh was the most gifted English writer of the 20th century. He was infatuated by the eccentric (some would say totally potty) Mitford family, and his letters to the various sisters (Nancy in this case) are always a pleasure to read. As an aside, as of today (February 2011) only one of the sisters survives - Deborah, the Duchess of Devonshire, who was the baby of the family and (as Signor Monty Python might have said) the "sensible" one. She (at 90) has just published her own memoirs, titled "Wait for Me". I look forward to reading this addition to the cartloads of Mitford memorabilia.
June 6, 2022
Really enjoyed this when I got into it. Waugh and Mitford are horrific snobs and can be quite cruel but also v witty and interesting. Sad noticing the decline in their correspondence.
April 18, 2015
That this collection even exists is nothing short of a literary dream come true for me. Evelyn Waugh is one of my favorite 20th century authors, and Nancy Mitford is one of my favorite Mitfords as well as another of my favorite authors. I knew that they had a correspondence, but what luck that Charlotte Mosley took the time to collate and edit it for us to enjoy. For those unaware, Evelyn Waugh was a man and a Catholic (once married to a she-Evelyn, really, but married to Laura by this time) who wrote some of the best-regarded novels in the mid-20th century. Nancy was the eldest of the seven Mitford children, who left England shortly after World War II permanently to live in France near her lover, although she was nominally married to Peter Rodd, usually busy elsewhere. Family and friends called him Prod behind his back.
I wanted to devour this book in days-- it's over 500 pages long-- but I decided rather to pace myself instead and read just a few letters at a time. Both of them were wickedly humorous in their published work and even more so in their personal letters. It's delicious. One of my favorites, from Evelyn to Nancy, 1946 (he'd categorize his topics for quick reading):
Medical. I am down to my last dozen bottles of claret. Can your Free French help?
Deportment. You neglected to give advice about Diana dedication in your letter.
Polite Interest. Was Prod one of the communists shot trying to land in Spain?
And on from there. He corrects her English, she corrects his French, and they tease one another incessantly with the gossip of the day. They're at their best discussing the writing process with their dry wit and matter-of-factness.
Charlotte Mosley gives copious footnotes so that those not familiar with the belle monde of the time can keep up with the gossip and the enormous cast of characters sent across the Channel during their decades of correspondence. Waugh's Catholicism is a frequent topic, as Nancy lives in Paris and is steeped in French Catholic culture without ever quite understanding it; he keeps her up to date on what her English family is doing since she expatriated herself.
Waugh and Mitford were considered very difficult people by those who were closest to them, and it seems that it is this similarity that makes their correspondence sparkle. This book isn't for everyone. If you're easygoing, not too critical, or considered terribly nice by friends and family, you may not be able to relate to Evelyn Waugh and Nancy Mitford quite as much as I do. If you have any interest in either author, though, or if you navigate life as an intense person yourself, this is a great companion to their published works.
I wanted to devour this book in days-- it's over 500 pages long-- but I decided rather to pace myself instead and read just a few letters at a time. Both of them were wickedly humorous in their published work and even more so in their personal letters. It's delicious. One of my favorites, from Evelyn to Nancy, 1946 (he'd categorize his topics for quick reading):
Medical. I am down to my last dozen bottles of claret. Can your Free French help?
Deportment. You neglected to give advice about Diana dedication in your letter.
Polite Interest. Was Prod one of the communists shot trying to land in Spain?
And on from there. He corrects her English, she corrects his French, and they tease one another incessantly with the gossip of the day. They're at their best discussing the writing process with their dry wit and matter-of-factness.
Charlotte Mosley gives copious footnotes so that those not familiar with the belle monde of the time can keep up with the gossip and the enormous cast of characters sent across the Channel during their decades of correspondence. Waugh's Catholicism is a frequent topic, as Nancy lives in Paris and is steeped in French Catholic culture without ever quite understanding it; he keeps her up to date on what her English family is doing since she expatriated herself.
Waugh and Mitford were considered very difficult people by those who were closest to them, and it seems that it is this similarity that makes their correspondence sparkle. This book isn't for everyone. If you're easygoing, not too critical, or considered terribly nice by friends and family, you may not be able to relate to Evelyn Waugh and Nancy Mitford quite as much as I do. If you have any interest in either author, though, or if you navigate life as an intense person yourself, this is a great companion to their published works.
November 29, 2016
It has taken me quite a while to get through this anthology of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh’s letters. The book seemed to pall in the middle, although that did coincide with my house move and consequent distraction from everything not relating to packing and unpacking. I took it up again today and read the second half in a rush. The letters within are succinct, witty, and clever. They include gossip about a vast herd of friends, acquaintances, enemies, family members, professional rivals, and famous figures. At times this barrage of names becomes tiring, at least for me as I am not especially familiar with the literary and/or aristocratic set of the time. Nonetheless, the key names become familiar after a time and a number of those mentioned are still well known - writers especially. All of the funniest anecdotes in the letters are about Randolph Churchill, Winston’s son, who comes off as a classic boor.
I found that the letters became more interesting and moving in the latter half of the book. By this point (approximately 1951) Mitford and Waugh were discussing their respective writing in some detail, as well as analysing changes in the use of words and phrases they’d noticed. Both were unapologetic snobs, steeped in an aristocracy that seems alien (to me at least) a generation after their deaths. By this point, both felt that the modern world was encroaching on their preferred way of life. This lends a melancholy air to these later letters, which is especially notable in Mitford’s as a contrast to her earlier extreme ebullience.
Overall I found the letters entertaining and inspiring. This year I’ve begun to write letters again and found that I am extremely rusty at it. (I am old enough to have had penpals before email became available.) Mitford and Waugh demonstrate how to sustain a bitchy, fascinating, and informative correspondence for twenty-two years. Their letters reveal a lot about their writing and themselves, but what struck me most powerfully was the strength of their friendship.
I found that the letters became more interesting and moving in the latter half of the book. By this point (approximately 1951) Mitford and Waugh were discussing their respective writing in some detail, as well as analysing changes in the use of words and phrases they’d noticed. Both were unapologetic snobs, steeped in an aristocracy that seems alien (to me at least) a generation after their deaths. By this point, both felt that the modern world was encroaching on their preferred way of life. This lends a melancholy air to these later letters, which is especially notable in Mitford’s as a contrast to her earlier extreme ebullience.
Overall I found the letters entertaining and inspiring. This year I’ve begun to write letters again and found that I am extremely rusty at it. (I am old enough to have had penpals before email became available.) Mitford and Waugh demonstrate how to sustain a bitchy, fascinating, and informative correspondence for twenty-two years. Their letters reveal a lot about their writing and themselves, but what struck me most powerfully was the strength of their friendship.
March 18, 2008
I thoroughly enjoyed this book of letters between Mitford and Waugh. They are laugh-out-loud funny in a number of places, and give interesting insight into the lives and writing processes of these two. It's also fascinating to hear them talk about their other writer friends and acquaintances, like Graham Greene, Thomas Merton (Waugh edited some of his early writing), etc. Evelyn was a committed Catholic and Nancy couldn't be bothered about anything religious, but they were very close friends their whole lives. It has made me want to read more Waugh, as well as more of Nancy's books. Anyone have Waugh recommendations?
November 25, 2011
I enjoyed this immensely, even though this is an extensive collection of letters. The voices of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh are sharp, amusing, wicked, and endearingly affected. It held my attention even in hectic environments!
Want to read
August 12, 2008I had no idea such a fabulous thing existed! Obviously I will read this.
March 8, 2016
For fans of Mitford and Waugh, catnip. Don't expect them to be perfect, though, darlings. Especially him! Oh, dear. Wonderful insights about their novels abound...
March 31, 2025
"The past is never dead. It's not even past." – William Faulkner
Charlotte Mosley সম্পাদিত 'The Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh' শুধুমাত্র দুই সাহিত্যিক বন্ধুর চিঠিপত্রের সংকলন নয়, বরং এটি বিশ শতকের ইউরোপীয় সমাজ, রাজনীতি এবং সাহিত্যচর্চার এক দুর্লভ আলেখ্য। ১৯৪৪ থেকে ১৯৭৩ পর্যন্ত বিস্তৃত এই পত্রাবলিতে মিশে আছে যুদ্ধোত্তর ইউরোপের পরিবর্তন, সাহিত্যের গতিপথ এবং ব্যক্তিগত টানাপোড়েন। এটি এক অনন্য সাহিত্যকর্ম, যা চিঠির বিন্যাসে দুই প্রতিভাবান লেখকের দৃষ্টিভঙ্গি ও বন্ধুত্বের উষ্ণতা প্রকাশ করে।
"There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort." – Jane Austen
ন্যান্সি মিটফোর্ড এবং ইভলিন ওয়ের বন্ধুত্ব ছিল অদ্ভুতভাবে আন্তরিক yet তির্যক। মিটফোর্ড, যিনি ছিলেন উজ্জ্বল বুদ্ধিমত্তার অধিকারী এবং সমাজের সূক্ষ্ম ব্যঙ্গবিদ, চিঠিতে তুলে ধরেছেন ফরাসি সংস্কৃতি, ব্যক্তিগত জীবন ও সাহিত্যের নানা প্রসঙ্গ। অপরদিকে, ওয়ের লেখনীতে ছিল তাঁর ক্যাথলিক বিশ্বাস, সমাজের প্রতি নির্দয় রসবোধ এবং কখনো কখনো নিঃসঙ্গতার ছায়া। এই বইয়ে দু’জনের চিঠির মাধ্যমে পাঠক যেমন তাদের ব্যক্তিগত মুহূর্তের সান্নিধ্য পান, তেমনই টের পান ইংল্যান্ড ও ফ্রান্সের সাংস্কৃতিক দ্বন্দ্ব।
"A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." – Thomas Mann
এই চিঠিপত্র শুধু ব্যক্তিগত আলাপচারিতার সংকলন নয়; বরং এটি সাহিত্যচর্চার অন্তরঙ্গ জগতের জানালা। ওয়ের সুনিপুণ ব্যঙ্গ এবং মিটফোর্ডের রসবোধ একত্রিত হয়ে একটি স্নিগ্ধ অথচ গভীর সাহিত্যিক পরিবেশ তৈরি করেছে। দুই লেখকের পারস্পরিক সমালোচনা কখনো নির্মম, কখনো সহানুভূতিসম্পন্ন। যেমন, ওয়ে যখন মিটফোর্ডের ঐতিহাসিক রচনাগুলোর যথার্থতা নিয়ে প্রশ্ন তোলেন, তখন মিটফোর্ডও পিছপা হন না তাঁর উপন্যাসের 'কল্পনাবাদ' নিয়ে তির্যক মন্তব্য করতে। এই ধরনের আলাপচারিতা বইটিকে আরও প্রাণবন্ত করে তুলেছে।
"All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." – Leo Tolstoy
তবে এই বই শুধুই সাহিত্য ও বুদ্ধিবৃত্তিক আলাপের জন্য গুরুত্বপূর্ণ নয়; বরং এটি ব্যক্তিগত সম্পর্কের জটিলতাকেও চমৎকারভাবে তুলে ধরে। ওয়ের ব্যক্তিগত জীবনের হতাশা ও তাঁর আত্মবিশ্বাসের ওঠানামা যেমন ফুটে উঠেছে, তেমনি মিটফোর্ডের সৌখিন অথচ নিঃসঙ্গ জীবনও ধরা দিয়েছে। চিঠিগুলোর মাধ্যমে একদিকে যেমন বোঝা যায় বন্ধুত্বের আন্তরিকতা, তেমনি কখনো কখনো রূঢ় সত্যও উন্মোচিত হয়।
"It is not length of life, but depth of life." – Ralph Waldo Emerson
এই বইয়ের একটি উল্লেখযোগ্য দিক হলো এর ঐতিহাসিক গুরুত্ব। দ্বিতীয় বিশ্বযুদ্ধোত্তর ইউরোপের পরিবর্তন, ফ্রান্সে মিটফোর্ডের জীবনযাপন, ব্রিটিশ অভিজাত সমাজের পরিবর্তন ইত্যাদি বিষয়গুলো চিঠির মাধ্যমে স্পষ্ট হয়ে ওঠে। যে কোনো পাঠকের জন্য এটি একসময়ের ইংল্যান্ড ও ফ্রান্সের রাজনৈতিক ও সাংস্কৃতিক অবস্থার একটি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ সাক্ষ্য।
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Charlotte Mosley সম্পাদনার ক্ষেত্রে যথেষ্ট যত্নশীল ছিলেন। তিনি প্রতিটি চিঠির প্রেক্ষাপট ব্যাখ্যা করেছেন, যা পাঠকদের জন্য দারুণ সহায়ক। তবে বইটির একটি সীমাবদ্ধতা হলো—যারা Mitford বা Waugh-এর পূর্বপরিচিত নন, তাদের কাছে কিছু প্রসঙ্গ বোধগম্য নাও হতে পারে। তাছাড়া, চিঠির সংকলন হওয়ায় এটি ধারাবাহিক পাঠের জন্য কিছুটা ধীরগতির লাগতে পারে।
"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning." – T. S. Eliot
সামগ্রিকভাবে 'The Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh' কেবলমাত্র সাহিত্যপ্রেমীদের জন্য নয়, বরং যে কেউ ঐতিহাসিক পটভূমিতে গঠিত আন্তরিক, তীক্ষ্ণ ও রসাত্মক আলাপচারিতার স্বাদ নিতে চাইবেন, তাদের জন্যও দারুণ এক পাঠ্য। এটি শুধু দুটি জীবনের সংলাপ নয়, বরং এটি এক বিপুল পরিবর্তনশীল সময়ের এক ঝলক।
Charlotte Mosley সম্পাদিত 'The Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh' শুধুমাত্র দুই সাহিত্যিক বন্ধুর চিঠিপত্রের সংকলন নয়, বরং এটি বিশ শতকের ইউরোপীয় সমাজ, রাজনীতি এবং সাহিত্যচর্চার এক দুর্লভ আলেখ্য। ১৯৪৪ থেকে ১৯৭৩ পর্যন্ত বিস্তৃত এই পত্রাবলিতে মিশে আছে যুদ্ধোত্তর ইউরোপের পরিবর্তন, সাহিত্যের গতিপথ এবং ব্যক্তিগত টানাপোড়েন। এটি এক অনন্য সাহিত্যকর্ম, যা চিঠির বিন্যাসে দুই প্রতিভাবান লেখকের দৃষ্টিভঙ্গি ও বন্ধুত্বের উষ্ণতা প্রকাশ করে।
"There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort." – Jane Austen
ন্যান্সি মিটফোর্ড এবং ইভলিন ওয়ের বন্ধুত্ব ছিল অদ্ভুতভাবে আন্তরিক yet তির্যক। মিটফোর্ড, যিনি ছিলেন উজ্জ্বল বুদ্ধিমত্তার অধিকারী এবং সমাজের সূক্ষ্ম ব্যঙ্গবিদ, চিঠিতে তুলে ধরেছেন ফরাসি সংস্কৃতি, ব্যক্তিগত জীবন ও সাহিত্যের নানা প্রসঙ্গ। অপরদিকে, ওয়ের লেখনীতে ছিল তাঁর ক্যাথলিক বিশ্বাস, সমাজের প্রতি নির্দয় রসবোধ এবং কখনো কখনো নিঃসঙ্গতার ছায়া। এই বইয়ে দু’জনের চিঠির মাধ্যমে পাঠক যেমন তাদের ব্যক্তিগত মুহূর্তের সান্নিধ্য পান, তেমনই টের পান ইংল্যান্ড ও ফ্রান্সের সাংস্কৃতিক দ্বন্দ্ব।
"A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." – Thomas Mann
এই চিঠিপত্র শুধু ব্যক্তিগত আলাপচারিতার সংকলন নয়; বরং এটি সাহিত্যচর্চার অন্তরঙ্গ জগতের জানালা। ওয়ের সুনিপুণ ব্যঙ্গ এবং মিটফোর্ডের রসবোধ একত্রিত হয়ে একটি স্নিগ্ধ অথচ গভীর সাহিত্যিক পরিবেশ তৈরি করেছে। দুই লেখকের পারস্পরিক সমালোচনা কখনো নির্মম, কখনো সহানুভূতিসম্পন্ন। যেমন, ওয়ে যখন মিটফোর্ডের ঐতিহাসিক রচনাগুলোর যথার্থতা নিয়ে প্রশ্ন তোলেন, তখন মিটফোর্ডও পিছপা হন না তাঁর উপন্যাসের 'কল্পনাবাদ' নিয়ে তির্যক মন্তব্য করতে। এই ধরনের আলাপচারিতা বইটিকে আরও প্রাণবন্ত করে তুলেছে।
"All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." – Leo Tolstoy
তবে এই বই শুধুই সাহিত্য ও বুদ্ধিবৃত্তিক আলাপের জন্য গুরুত্বপূর্ণ নয়; বরং এটি ব্যক্তিগত সম্পর্কের জটিলতাকেও চমৎকারভাবে তুলে ধরে। ওয়ের ব্যক্তিগত জীবনের হতাশা ও তাঁর আত্মবিশ্বাসের ওঠানামা যেমন ফুটে উঠেছে, তেমনি মিটফোর্ডের সৌখিন অথচ নিঃসঙ্গ জীবনও ধরা দিয়েছে। চিঠিগুলোর মাধ্যমে একদিকে যেমন বোঝা যায় বন্ধুত্বের আন্তরিকতা, তেমনি কখনো কখনো রূঢ় সত্যও উন্মোচিত হয়।
"It is not length of life, but depth of life." – Ralph Waldo Emerson
এই বইয়ের একটি উল্লেখযোগ্য দিক হলো এর ঐতিহাসিক গুরুত্ব। দ্বিতীয় বিশ্বযুদ্ধোত্তর ইউরোপের পরিবর্তন, ফ্রান্সে মিটফোর্ডের জীবনযাপন, ব্রিটিশ অভিজাত সমাজের পরিবর্তন ইত্যাদি বিষয়গুলো চিঠির মাধ্যমে স্পষ্ট হয়ে ওঠে। যে কোনো পাঠকের জন্য এটি একসময়ের ইংল্যান্ড ও ফ্রান্সের রাজনৈতিক ও সাংস্কৃতিক অবস্থার একটি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ সাক্ষ্য।
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." – F. Scott Fitzgerald
Charlotte Mosley সম্পাদনার ক্ষেত্রে যথেষ্ট যত্নশীল ছিলেন। তিনি প্রতিটি চিঠির প্রেক্ষাপট ব্যাখ্যা করেছেন, যা পাঠকদের জন্য দারুণ সহায়ক। তবে বইটির একটি সীমাবদ্ধতা হলো—যারা Mitford বা Waugh-এর পূর্বপরিচিত নন, তাদের কাছে কিছু প্রসঙ্গ বোধগম্য নাও হতে পারে। তাছাড়া, চিঠির সংকলন হওয়ায় এটি ধারাবাহিক পাঠের জন্য কিছুটা ধীরগতির লাগতে পারে।
"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning." – T. S. Eliot
সামগ্রিকভাবে 'The Letters of Nancy Mitford and Evelyn Waugh' কেবলমাত্র সাহিত্যপ্রেমীদের জন্য নয়, বরং যে কেউ ঐতিহাসিক পটভূমিতে গঠিত আন্তরিক, তীক্ষ্ণ ও রসাত্মক আলাপচারিতার স্বাদ নিতে চাইবেন, তাদের জন্যও দারুণ এক পাঠ্য। এটি শুধু দুটি জীবনের সংলাপ নয়, বরং এটি এক বিপুল পরিবর্তনশীল সময়ের এক ঝলক।
July 22, 2024
Not the sort of thing most readers would be interested in. Nary an intellectual thought passes between these two self-satisfied English snobs in the numerous correspondences. Certainly not the sort of book one can take in anything other than in small doses. Essentially, the letters contain almost nothing more than gossip, which they ironically insist bores them. The two of them have little curiosity about the world and letters written twenty years after they started their correspondence indicate a sort of arrested development as thinkers. But read on if you want the sordid details.
Most of these letters consist of gossip about other English upper-class snobs, which sometimes becomes malicious. In particular, they (mostly Waugh) revel in tormenting Cyril Connelly. The two letter writers think themselves witty and superior; they are such a perfect match that one wonders why they didn’t just divorce their spouses and get it on.
Were they always this way, or was it the success of Brideshead Revisited and The Pursuit of Love that bloated their egos so? How much further can I read before I have had enough?
Especially Waugh. It’s almost as if he converted to Catholicism as a stunt that would peeve all those Church of England stalwarts. His letters make clear that he is not a particularly devout Christian, and his heart-on-his-sleeve misanthropist rantings, lack of love for his children, annoyance at Christmas, etc. makes one wonder if his Catholicism is theoretical rather than one that is actually practiced.
Nancy, however, comes across as essentially and cheerfully Godless. She tends toward socialism, whereas Waugh leans just to the left of outright fascism. But they aren’t that political, deep down. One suspects it’s just another accessory that one dons that keeps them interesting to others in those rarified social gatherings.
Ms. Mitford, for her part, is perhaps the better person. Still, she doesn’t get off the hook with her references to gay friends as “pansies.” She had an irrational hatred of Americans (not having visited the US, by the way). Mitford as cinema critic: “It [Brief Encounter] is both dreary & unrealistic, unlike our books.” For someone who lived in Paris for decades and called herself a Francophile, is it not unseemly to refer to various French as “frogs” in her letters?
Waugh is your I-hate-everyone-sort, and can’t seem to resist pointing out that someone who annoyed him is a “jew” (I use his lower-case). I kept wondering if it wasn’t fatiguing to be so relentlessly “superior”? Elsewhere he says that only jews and lunatics buy the paintings of Cubists.
These letters have been excised of potentially libelous statements (even the oldest from the mid-1940’s). The two of them have strong opinions about artists (perhaps more than the art itself). Both Picasso and Matisse are dissed, for instance. Waugh cannot stand the French (especially everything they have been for the last two hundred years). Rule, Britannia!
I wanted to hear something catty about the Royals. What did they think of them?
Most of these letters consist of gossip about other English upper-class snobs, which sometimes becomes malicious. In particular, they (mostly Waugh) revel in tormenting Cyril Connelly. The two letter writers think themselves witty and superior; they are such a perfect match that one wonders why they didn’t just divorce their spouses and get it on.
Were they always this way, or was it the success of Brideshead Revisited and The Pursuit of Love that bloated their egos so? How much further can I read before I have had enough?
Especially Waugh. It’s almost as if he converted to Catholicism as a stunt that would peeve all those Church of England stalwarts. His letters make clear that he is not a particularly devout Christian, and his heart-on-his-sleeve misanthropist rantings, lack of love for his children, annoyance at Christmas, etc. makes one wonder if his Catholicism is theoretical rather than one that is actually practiced.
Nancy, however, comes across as essentially and cheerfully Godless. She tends toward socialism, whereas Waugh leans just to the left of outright fascism. But they aren’t that political, deep down. One suspects it’s just another accessory that one dons that keeps them interesting to others in those rarified social gatherings.
Ms. Mitford, for her part, is perhaps the better person. Still, she doesn’t get off the hook with her references to gay friends as “pansies.” She had an irrational hatred of Americans (not having visited the US, by the way). Mitford as cinema critic: “It [Brief Encounter] is both dreary & unrealistic, unlike our books.” For someone who lived in Paris for decades and called herself a Francophile, is it not unseemly to refer to various French as “frogs” in her letters?
Waugh is your I-hate-everyone-sort, and can’t seem to resist pointing out that someone who annoyed him is a “jew” (I use his lower-case). I kept wondering if it wasn’t fatiguing to be so relentlessly “superior”? Elsewhere he says that only jews and lunatics buy the paintings of Cubists.
These letters have been excised of potentially libelous statements (even the oldest from the mid-1940’s). The two of them have strong opinions about artists (perhaps more than the art itself). Both Picasso and Matisse are dissed, for instance. Waugh cannot stand the French (especially everything they have been for the last two hundred years). Rule, Britannia!
I wanted to hear something catty about the Royals. What did they think of them?
March 27, 2021
An interesting collection of letters, one that is best read slowly, bit-by-bit. (And so, the sort of book it's best to own, because inevitably, the library wants it back before you're done!) Nancy Mitford was such an interesting person, and Waugh such a fabulous author that it's delightful to get a peek into their lives.
May 22, 2022
A good and all encompassing collection of their letters, giving gossip, some insight into writing and editing and (foremost) their friendship. If you find either interesting, this is a good way to learn more about their personalities. Especially as letters are easy to pick up and put down for swift pockets of free time.
February 3, 2021
While I enjoyed Nancy Mitford's letters on their own very much, I am having trouble getting into this correspondence. Mostly because Waugh doesn't seem like a very nice guy. Give me Nancy Mitford all on her own, please. That is all.
May 8, 2023
I really thought I would have a harder time with this one, or that it would turn into a slog after around 100 pages - but quite the opposite! something about their correspondence was so fun and engrossing from beginning to end
May 13, 2017
A really good correspondence between two writers...every one interesting.
August 22, 2017
Lovely and sometimes appalling; best read a few letters at a time.
August 24, 2019
Ideal tanning read. If only we'd actually had the weather for it this summer.
November 15, 2020
Delightful browsing (of lost erudition)/
November 8, 2022
I shall miss them
Read
February 19, 2025Makes me want to write more letters and go to Paris!
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