TŌKYŌ, January, 1898.
DEAR McDONALD,--I have both of your kindest letters. It gave me no small
pleasure to find that you liked "Youma:" you will not like it less
knowing that the story is substantially true. You can see the ruins of
the old house in the Quartier du Fort if you ever visit Saint-Pierre,
and perhaps meet my old friend Arnoux, a survivor of the time. The girl
really died under the heroic conditions described--refusing the help of
the blacks, and the ladder. Of course I may have idealized _her_, but
not her act. The incident of the serpent occurred also; but the heroine
was a different person,--a plantation girl, celebrated by the historian
Rufz de Lavison. I wrote the story under wretched circumstances in
Martinique, near the scenes described, and under the cross with the
black Christ. As for the "Sylvestre Bonnard" I believe I told you that
that was translated in about ten days and published in two weeks from
the time of beginning--at the wish of the Harpers. Price $115, if I
remember rightly,--and no commission on sales,--but the work suffers in
consequence of the haste.
How to answer your kind suggestion about pulling me "out of my shell,"
I don't well know. I like to be out of the shell--but much of that kind
of thing could only result in the blue devils. After seeing men like you
and the other Guardsman,--the dear doctor,--one is beset with a foolish
wish to get back into the world which produced you both, back to the
U. S. A.,--out of Government grind, out of the unspeakable abomination
and dulness and selfishness and stupidity of mere officialism. And I
can't afford that feeling often--not _yet_. I have too many little
butterfly-lives to love and take care of. Some day, I know, I must get
back for a time. Meanwhile I must face the enemy and stand the music.
Now I want you to tell me that Highbinder romance when I next meet you.
Perhaps your solitary experience could give me more than one good story.
Every good man's life is full of romances. The trouble is to get him to
tell them, and to understand them properly when told. Your "Prussian
officer" is delicious; but I fear my talent is not quite up to the mark
of telling it as it ought to be told. Maupassant--Kipling--they would
delight the world with such a thing. Never mind!--I am sure, _if_ you
want me to write stories, that you can give me all the material you
want or that I need. I shall sit again at the table, supporting that
beautiful cap with its silver-eagle,--and I shall talk and talk and talk
until you tell me more stories.
Won't you be glad to hear that my new book will be finished this
month,--perhaps this week? Then for the "Stories from Many Lips"--or
something of that kind.
Ever affectionately yours,
LAFCADIO HEARN.