I've been having noctes ambrosianae with "The House of Orchids," though
truly it came untimely, for I've not yet done reading your other
books. Don't crowd the dancers, please. I don't know (and you don't
care) what poem in it I like best, but I get as much delight out of
these lines as out of any:
"Such flowers pale as are
Worn by the goddess of a distant star--
Before whose holy eyes
Beauty and evening meet."
And--but what's the use? I can't quote the entire book.
I'm glad you did see your way to make "Memory" a female.
To Hades with Bonnet's chatter of gems and jewels--among the minor
poetic properties they are better (to my taste) than flowers. By the
way, I wonder what "lightness" Bonnet found in the "Apothecary"
verses. They seem to me very serious.
Rereading and rerereading of the Job confirm my first opinion of it. I
find only one "bad break" in it--and that not inconsistent with God's
poetry in the real Job: "ropes of adamant." A rope of stone is
imperfectly conceivable--is, in truth, mixed metaphor.
I think it was a mistake for you to expound to Ned Hamilton, or
anybody, how you wrote the "Forty-third Chapter," or anything. When
an author explains his methods of composition he cannot expect to be
taken seriously. Nine writers in ten wish to have it thought that they
"dash off" things. Nobody believes it, and the judicious would be
sorry to believe it. Maybe you do, but I guess you work hard and
honestly enough over the sketch "dashed off." If you don't--do.
* * * * *
With love to Carrie, I will leave you to your sea-gardens and
abalones.
Sincerely yours,
AMBROSE BIERCE.
I'm off to Broadway next week for a season of old-gentlemanly revelry.
[Washington, D. C.,
May 2, 1911.]