Cassette Tape 21 - Side A - Mary Mercer to Carson/Travels -- 30 minutes and 52 seconds Sullivan's Label: 21 Side A - Mary Mercer to Carson/[Travels?] [MC 289-5-1-015a: Label] -- 30 minutes, 52 seconds [Processor's note-Due to the content of the documents recorded on this tape, I have transcribed them rather than paraphrased them. I indicated when I was unsure of a word or phrase by putting a question mark in brackets at the end of the unclear passage. I have put Margaret Sullivan's descriptions of drawings/pictures and her other comments and asides in brackets. I have not included her self-corrections, such "picture of a horse, uh, dog". Only her final wording is transcribed.] [Sullivan--Here's a, in Mary Mercer's handwriting, a little prayer.] "Oh God, whose other name is love, take the radiance and energy of Carson's love, which surrounds my days, and return them to her in full measure, increased by the love I have for her so that she stands illuminated and comforted. Give her the grace to express the essence of this abundance of loveliness in her life and in her work. Bless her and keep her. Amen. [Now a series of letters mailed from Nyack. This one] Oct 1, 1962 to Carson McCullers at Claridge's Hotel, London, SW1, England. [The first letter. There are many little drawings in these letters.] Tuesday, PM - Darling Carson, I watched you fly away safely . . . [Picture of an airplane]. Mr. Alexander said that he would call me if you turned back for any reason. I have been [there's a bed] and just woke up. It is [picture of a clock 2:30] o'clock. Ida is interviewing a new tenant. I am going to get the Sitwell books and the pictures. In my head I began to work upon the year in England [picture of a car] and when I got home I put the [picture of a dog] outside and wrote one half page on the [looks like a typewriter-picture]. It is called "A Blow upon the Heart". "They were brother and sister and in their early 50s. Each of them suffered a blow upon the heart", it begins. Perhaps I can put medicine and psychiatry together in it. Anyway I have a purpose . Now I shall put you-know-who [picture of a cat] on the floor and go to mail this. A part of my heart rose with you into the sky and disappeared over the Atlantic. Use it to enjoy and bring it back soon.--Mary. [This is again on Mary Mercer's 5 Tweed Boulevard stationary], Nyack, New York 74227. Sunday night. Sweet Carson, the [picture of the Bentley] and I have been to Middleberry and back safely. From your point by the window stretching from the chair [picture of a chair] to the bureau is a new, soft, lovely [picture of a chair], rug, [looks like a kitty]. Also the [looks like a clock picture] is here. I did have to speak first, but the response was immediate and generous. Frank gave me a picture of [him and me?] and our [underlined] father and from it the fountain of youth! And I heard many tales of rainbow youths. My sympathies were touched. And Joanna[?] has reminded Frank of a number of things and he has had time to think of them to his benefit. I have an [circle around an S] for you; a tangible-intangible, waiting for the first two free hours of your return. The foliage was magnificent. I think of you with such pleasure and comfort. I know you are safe and enjoying and it is enough. [line from page 5 on the typewriter. And she starts the quote and she then crosses it all out and she says "it will wait" then she says "no it won't" and here's an insertion] "She wanted it to be a man's world, but she had overcome it and not by the vote for women". Hail England! Hail Europe! Hail vacation! And all this means is that it is a way of forgetting how much I miss you while at the same time it brings me to the core of remembrance, called substitute therapy. For example [there's a picture of a stick-figure of a person with a cast on the arm, outer] and why doesn't that [picture of an air conditioner] work? All praise to the human mind and its workings and all praise to the heart which lights the way [dash-dash-dash] to you. -- Mary P.S. Are you getting enough rest and sleep? [Same letter-head] Thursday 9-27-62. Darling Carson, tomorrow is D-Day with the mental health board. Party making is going full blast. Cora is speechless for she believes it about reporters and photographers coming. I am borrowing your soup tureen [pot of flowers], two gardenias in bloom. [picture of rain drops]. Raining hard today with wind [picture of little trees being blown]. Minnie called [picture of a telephone]. Everyone sends love including [picture of me] me. [on the back] P.S. -- [picture of an envelop] Pictures packed and wrapped, mailed [picture of a postbox] [in the PM?]. P.P.S. -- Knowing [dash-dash-dash], noing, noine plus dreaming equals page three of her writing tra-la [picture of Ireland and Great Britain and Europe before she writes tra-la]. P.P.S Ida called [picture of swan equals begint[?], that looks like little scales? I can't figure it out.] [Mary Mercer stationary] Saturday AM. Darling Carson, [picture of a menu] received. My, oh, my! [picture of a table setting]. Menu and MH board eaten. Appreciated. Digested. Only complaint from Cora . About to go on the road [picture of a car] to Middleberry. Gentley is four-legged again. [Picture of the little Bentley]. [Picture of the sun] out for the first time since you left. Got [looks like a hypodermic needle] flu shot yesterday courtesy of one of my public health doctor [friends?]. All supplies off the market, managed to get one for you, in icebox for when you come back. Waiting. Ida and I talk and talk [picture of a telephone] and she sends her love with mine. Robbie is keeping [looks like little clouds] of me. So is Cornelia, but I have no [looks like a little clock face]. I keep [little clouds] for myself for typing. Why doesn't Edith like DHL? [Now a picture of a typewriter with page 4]. Going slowly, slowly here. Hating, hating to be sideswiped by the truth. I like to think of you enjoying [picture of the British Isles with an X] and your [pictures of people], many, who love you, too. -- Mary [Now, at the top] Tuesday. Carson dear. I called Bob about the pin, as I cabled you. He said it could be pulled out and you would be more comfortable. It is ready to come out. That is all it means. It would be a nuisance catching on things and so forth if you left it in. I was so glad to get your letter yesterday right after your call. Please thank Joanna for her P.S. It was lovely to know that things are going alright and that you are well. Keep going gently, won't you? You are deeply missed by everyone and most particularly by me, but the days are flying by and the thought is that you are almost ready to come home. I am so happy you were able to go, Carson, but it will be so good to have you back. I have been so incredibly busy, so busy I haven't had a chance to walk. If I don't do that I feel like a perpetual motion machine. Nasty feeling, but I am due in Albany today and have to go. Gentley has another stay at the vet's back home again and won't be well again although still bandaged. There is a smiling picture of Ray in the Times this morning warning doctors in private practice to watch their medical care manners or the labor/management/government standards will get them. Who's afraid of the MHW[?] The Mississippi business has been a horror. Robbie called last night, delighted of course, that you are homesick. He asked about Ida and I said she was busy with the new apartment. It suddenly dawned on him that she didn't live in. He was horrified and is going to talk to Floria. I told him we had been through that battle last summer. I also told him about Mary Anne and the guest room . You may hear more about it. You know Robbie, when he starts to fix things up. He thinks you should not change flights. You will get home early in the afternoon on Thursday. I have patients so won't be able to meet you. Floria may, somebody will. Never fear. I'll let you know later. I'm still on page five. Too much going on to be quiet enough to work on this. It is like diving down and swimming under water. I'm living at the surface of this week. Friday will be my first "unscheduled" day, tra-la. All my love -- Mary P.S. The grey cat treed and swatted Tina. First blood was drawn from her. She looked so surprised and injured. October the 4th -- Darling Carson, this is D-Day. I have no idea when this letter will reach you but you know how much my thoughts are with you particularly. I know you will have a lovely time and the audience will love you. I just pray you aren't burning yourself up. Again, I know you would have good sense about that and will soon be home where you can rest and can consider. Trying, trying not to worry. September is over and so is the tight squeeze on money. This should not concern you. I called Floria about it. She will write to say, "Don't worry." She knew your expenses would be high. Why do you suppose she kept you from the dog and cents this month? One thing at a time. Your one thing right now is priority, your comfort and safety in all things to bring you back well and happy. I'm solvent again, too, now that I am working again, so you have double protection so right this minute quit the worry. Scat! I know Jo will watch the finger and get all necessary help as needed. She sounds so good and wonderful. Tell her what a comfort she is to me, too. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Friday. I've been on the go since you left last week. I lost my Friday, week-end and Tuesday to the MH board, Middleberry and Albany. I'm going to garden tomorrow and do simple quiet things. Do whatever is the wise thing on the return flight. Be sure to get Jo's thoughtful opinion. I can't judge your fatigue. Your voice sounded a little pressured yesterday, and well it might, but go gently, go gently. Just let us know when to meet you and which flight. You may be sure that life in Nyack goes on its slow pace. Ida and Mr. Vance Tassle called about your new closet yesterday. Ida is getting your house clean. Rita and Terry called last night. They think of you with love. Jordan came home Monday. Martha in a nursing home and adjusting well. Billy not so seriously ill as they feared. I had a good letter from Marielle. I am so glad she could get to London and I hope she can be with you tonight. I wish, wish I could hear you, or rather see you, speak. Robbie says Edward has decided a party will be too much. I haven't talked with him. Anyway, Robbie has the tickets. We'll decide what is best when you get home. MMDM--Mary We could just go to Water Island next summer, you know. Saturday, [picture of fireplace in Mary Mercer's house, modern, fireplace in Victorian in Carson's house] Fires burning day and night in both homes to light your return, MMDM Sunday, P.S. -- Went to Rita's annual AA dinner last night. Comment to me of the evening, "You are so nice. I am so sorry you are not a drunk like the rest of us!" [Picture of the sun] Sun out today, so I am sunny, too, looking in the sky for an airplane. Soon, soon. Go gently, gently, gently. [Now here's a picture in Mary's living room] Evidence that life here is proceeding according to schedule. Raining outside. Had to set up these tables in front of desk [in front of Mary's picture window from the Nyack home] of the meeting of the Mental Health Board [or whatever]. [And here are two letters from one of Mary's trips to Edinburgh. I see here we have some telegrams. The first is sent] 1960 August 10. To Carson McCullers 131 South Broadway, Nyack. From Edinburgh. The beauty of flowers from my best friend encircles us. Love Mary [The next one] From London to Carson McCullers 1960 July 28. It is so beautiful. [The next one] Edinburgh. August 9 1960. Much love. Karen[?] [Here's a little note from Edinburgh which obviously came after London but anyhow this is] From the Caledonian Hotel, Edinburgh 2. Wednesday. My best friend has sent me flowers, which if she could see them, she would remain silent. No words can describe their beauty. Each day I wear a different colored rose. They are so radiant with their sturdy livingness that I can't believe that they will ever perish. We leave for the Highlands on Friday and I can't take them with me so I am luxuriating in wearing them. I enclose some heather from me to you. MMDM -- Mary [And here's another little note from the Caledonian Hotel. This was earlier on] Monday 8/8/60 Carson dear, Ray called me last night from Puerto Rico, so I did have some news of you all. Not one line have I had from anybody since I left. We reached Edinburgh in the late afternoon yesterday and I could taste my disappointment when there was no mail for Mercer. My body has traveled by the mile but my mind and my imagination have been shuttling back and forth from 63 AD to 1960 AD. Roman ruins, cathedrals, abbeys and now castles with the silent presence of multitudes but it has left me wishing for more than the silent presence of my own people. It makes me wonder how many of my "signs" have reached you. Ray says that he had not received any mail and he should have. If mail from London takes that long, heaven knows if the mail ever leaves the timeless country we have been through. It was lovely to check in to a good hotel again and take a comfortable bath and to eat the most delicious food and get all things in balance here. Opening meeting today was most exceedingly dull. I shall sleep late tomorrow. Ray said he called you before you left and reported that you were busy working. I am so pleased that you have broken through that pause. It will take a year to tell you what I have seen. It is almost too much to keep straight. The driving has demanded my strict attention in order to keep on the left. I am delighted that the car is parked in a garage this week. Home on the 20th, thank goodness. Scotland is lovely but nowhere as interesting to me as London and Northumberland. MMDM and take good care. [Here's one that says] From Brown's Hotel, London, W1, Dover Street and Marlborough Street, Tuesday night. And MMDM to you too! Such beautiful orchids. I "nursed" the first one after wearing it constantly in a vase and it still is beautiful. And as tonight, Adele and I felt so pampered by others. God knows what Floria will say but you can't imagine my pleasure. The United States does exist, you exist, the orchids prove it. I cannot write to you about London. I shall have to say it. It is too much. N o city ever has given me such a feeling of ease and comfort and friendliness. My feet gave out at 5 o'clock PM last Sunday and I have been "making do" with their remains since. Even the monetary system has become painless although it still makes little sense to me. I can't begin to say what I've seen and done and felt. It almost seems too much. We start northward tomorrow and I think a change of place will be welcome. The papers have next to nothing in them about the States but your orchids prove that I am not Rip Van Winkle, conjuring up the western hemisphere. London seems so familiar and I haven't been here before. It casts a spell. Thank you for staying put and being. I know you promised to take special care of yourself and I know you keep your word so I do not worry. You and I shall have a great deal of fun living over this past week. It overflows. I praised "your plow" by name last Sunday at a service at Westminster Abbey. Never have I heard such a choir. And I paused by the three Bronte sisters "Courage to Endure". There is such a sense of pressure almost everywhere. There is no beginning, no end, even to this note. MMDM -- Mary [And here are pictures of the little castle, the Tower of London, there are millions of little John Henrys, parks, the Mall, parks, pictures, Palace, etc, etc.] [And now we have another little letter] Garden House Hotel, Cambridge, Thursday, AM. Carson, dear. Cambridge is my idea of what a college should look like, combines a splendor of architecture and closeness and availability of natural beauty which delights the heart. From my bedroom window I look at a lovely garden on the river Cam. There are footpaths along the river and a punt is just an English version of a gondola. I took over the car yesterday on the outskirts of London, thank goodness . I find it quite tricky to drive on the left side of the road. Today's drive to Lincoln should be easier. I haven't mentioned food but we have been living high off the hog. Oddly enough the best restaurants seem to serve French cooking rather than English. We went to King's Chapel vespers last night to hear its famed choir and to see its architectural beauties. The choir made me think that the sound of angels must be like that. All is well and I think of you. MMDM -- Mary [that contained the heather which was probably in the Edinburgh letter. Here's a picture of a bagpiper. It says on here "It's really true."] P.S. -- No stamps on the Isle of Skye where I wrote this. Now I'm at Troqueer [?], listening to wild bagpipes. Probably I'll be home a month before mail goes out of here. [And then here's another] From London mailed 30 July '60. Saturday 11:30 AM. After breakfast in bed! And England has put its arms around one New Englander. I never had such a feeling about a new city. I walked and walked in the softest drizzle so happy and comfortable. Everything grows in this climate and I think of the nursing of our cyclamen and know, if I were carrying them in my hands, they would thrive without any special care here. Adele and I were out to the theater last night and my thoughts of you were present and thankful. Love -- Mary [And now another card] From the Caledonian Hotel in Edinburgh from Princess Street Gardens. This hotel, so dark and forbidding on the outside, is a joy on the inside. I am writing this in bed, waiting for our breakfast trays. Now I know how the other half lives, but for me I shall welcome back the breakfast meows and bark of Christo, Keena and Denny. MMDM -- Mary [Now this letter may be unrelated to some one of Mary Mercer's prescription notes.] My darling Carson, (1) Wonderful [underlined] to hear your voice. (2) Keep pin taped, lightly. Keep moving those fingers. We'll see Bob soon as your return. (3) Try to eat anyway. (4) I, too, have only received one communication from you. Letters must be in transit. (5) Mailing your picture back this AM. (6) All is well except for missing, missing. Go gently, gently. (7) All love. Mary [Here's an account of an itinerary for a trip] For Mary Mercer presented by Miss Cordelia Hamilton, White Plains Office, for August 16, 1966, New York, New York. Includes Spain, going to Barcelona, Santiago, Madrid, and Sevilla. Covers August 25th to September 15th, 1966 [Not known if Mary made the trip. This is merely an itinerary.] Also included here is an article titled, "The Mental Health Consultations in Child Health Protective Agencies" by Mary E. Mercer, MD, reprint from the Elements of a Community Mental Health Program, Proceedings of a Round-table at the 1955 Annual Conference, Millbank Memorial Fund, 40 Wall Street, New York 5] [Now, here's a letter to Julie Harris. It's in pencil. It's obviously scratch paper and would have had to be redone. It's not known if it was ever sent. There's a big word at the top circled. Don't know what relevance.] Dearest Julie. Here is the play and I hope with all my heart that you will play Molly. I had you in my mind since the beginning. The play is not finished. There are about 5 more months still to finish it. X The main thing is for you to know if you want to be Molly and let me know soon. Now that I know Peter I'll be able to find a present he would like better. Does he have a paint box? Thank you darling for the elegant square ring. Please give Mary [or May] my dearest love and let's try to get together this summer here in Nyack which is going to be lovely because the porch will be screened. All love. [Here are some letters concerning the movie, The Member of the Wedding.] January 30, 1952. 131 South Broadway, Nyack, New York. Dear Fred, I have just finished reading the first draft of Maddows' script for the movie. I feel that the quality of my book and play is destroyed in this version. Fred, I do hope you can persuade the producer and script writer to return to the play because this approach seems so slack and colorless and lacking in necessary tension that creates drama. For one thing, the basic theme of the play is missing; that is the will to belong. Frankie wants to be part of the wedding because it is her own particular symbol of togetherness. I believe that the soldier should be used as he again is someone who is desperately longing to belong. The script lacks cohesion in any sense or form. In the play the symbols were constructed so each subtle detail added to the essential structure of the play. The essential dynamics are always inward, expressed by the yearning of a 12 year old child. I think that the dialog should be kept to the lines of the play. It is the quality of the language that puts a sheen of poetry on commonplace thoughts and situations. As it is in this movie script the commonplace is merely diffuse and dreary . I think the Honey situation is badly handled. I do not like any of the dream sequences. I suggest that the dream fantasy of ice and snow could be used and that the snow globe in the book can be used as a prop to introduce such a sequence. The snow dream is relevant because of the intense Southern heat and the fantasy should have meaning to the essential structure of the play. I suggest the central theme of the play should be introduced immediately so that the audience will be able to follow. Otherwise it deteriorates to random "cute" scenes about children, which is not what the story is about at all. This script is so dull that I wonder if the audience would sit through it. While I realize that it is a first draft, the text, genesis and quality are very far from my play or book. I hope you will talk with Kramer and Maddows and speak to the dialog instructor of the play. Since we have the same actors as in the play, the movie should have the same art qualities as it did on Broadway production and added to that you have the advantage of a plastic and prismatic medium which should enhance this as a work of art. I rely on your genius for the highest quality of imaginative direction but we must have a good script. I suggest you show Maddows and Kramer the script I gave you at Nyack which contains the soldier scene. What is the matter with Bernice humming the Sparrow Song in the end as it was in the Broadway production? It has already been sung once in the movie script and another slight touch toward unity. I was happy to have your note and glad your house wasn't floated away into the Pacific. The script reached me at the last moment and we are just off to Italy. I'm very concerned about the script and hope you can write me soon of developments. Please write care of David Diamond, 101 Via Tiemonte, Rome, Italy and we will see you in Paris in the fall. Love, Carson Dear Mr. Maddows, [this is written in Reeve's handwriting on yellow sheets] Before leaving for Europe I read the first draft of your screen adaptation of the Member and wrote to Fred Zinnermann, for whom I have great respect. I cannot say too strongly how I feel that the structure and all the dialog in the screen script should come directly from the play script as, no doubt you realize, this is a very delicate and allusive work and approximation would not suffice. The language here is essential to the texture of the work as a whole. I gave Fred a copy of my first play script with which he opened in Philadelphia. In it there were scenes in a cafe in the town which were cut in Philadelphia for the sake of structure and length. I think that in the cinema, which is a more plastic medium, we could. Frankie's walk around the town, telling about the wedding and her plans would add much to the movie as a whole, but it seems to me that the dialog should be drawn straight from the play. It is so easy to get off-key in this work. I will tell you something about the beginning of my play. I was visiting Ken Williams in Nantucket when he suggested I make a play of my novel, The Member of the Wedding, and offered to collaborate with me, as I had never written for the theater before. So we started working together but as the play progressed it became apparent to both of us that Ken, with all of his experience and great talent, could not write dialog for this play. With his warm encouragement and confidence, I went on alone. Speaking of Ken, I think that this movie can have the distinction and integrity of the movie Streetcar if the original play is followed as closely. I suggest that in Frankie's walk around the town little dialog is necessary and much should be left to the expressiveness and flexibility of the camera. I think that if you studied the play script, you will realize the similarity to a tone poem. It is constructed so that these symbols make an ever-widening series of vibrations. The story is that of longing for identification. Frankie yearns to become a part of something, to feel that she belongs, a fantasy of feeling that she is a member of the wedding becomes a symbol of the universal need of identify and the will to belong. I hope Fred will show you my letter to him in which I touched on this. The play is a tragi-comedy and [Sullivan-"it looks likes c-o-d-u-r=s and f-r-i-m-m-n-e-s something"] are often blended in a single line. I remember at the Empire the audiences would be laughing and crying at the same time. I hope the screen treatment can have the same purity, truth and tension [underlined] that will move [Processor's note- the tape ends in mid-sentence and finished on Side B below.] Cassette Tape 21 Side B -- The Member of the Wedding Movie / Paris Jessie Letters -- 27 minutes and 34 seconds Sullivan's Label: 21 2 Side B -- MW Movie / Jessie [McCullers] Paris Letters [MC298-5-1-015b] [This is the continuation of the letter to Maddows re: The Member of the Wedding as a movie] . . .The play was a tragicomedy. [Now] . . . at the Empire the audiences would be laughing and crying at the same time. I hope that the screen treatment can have the purity, truth and tension [underlined] that will move a cinema audience in the same way. I trust you to understand the intention of this letter. I worked for five years on the book, Member of the Wedding, then later for four years, off and on, before the play was completed. I am sensible to every strain of feeling in this work and I am so deeply anxious that the combination of talents we have with you, Fred and the original cast will make this movie a work of art, since the story is so simple and universal, re: none of the stock situations usually employed in movies. It should be our mutual aim to give the work the radiance of art. Please show this letter to Fred when you see him and give him our best. God bless you. [Here is another sentence to be inserted somewhere.] and her encounter with the soldier. [and this is starred] The feeling is all inward but it is universal and deep and should reach a crescendo of emotion so that the audience is genuinely moved. [Now here are letters from] 1766 Westridge Road, Los Angeles 49 California. February 8, 1952. Dear Carson, I was out of town for a few days and found you letter upon my return. I do hope that you have had a pleasant crossing and that this letter will be waiting for you by the time you arrive in Rome . I too have read the first draft to the script and I can well understand your anxiety. I've not had a chance to meet with Kramer as yet and therefore I cannot reassure you without taking a great deal for granted . However I can promise you one thing. I will make every possible effort to see to it that the final script and the film itself carry out your intentions. I have had preliminary meetings with Ben Maddow and I know that he is very anxious to pursue everything that you regard as essential. Kramer is now per-occupied with a very important legal battle and I will probably not get see him for another 10 days. We will start work on the script on March 1st and will keep you posted on all developments from then on. Very best wishes to you and Reeves. I do hope that you have a wonderful time. As ever, Fred. 1766 Westridge Road, Los Angeles 49 California. March 14, 1952. Dear Carson, thanks very much for your note of March 2nd. Ben Maddow was very happy to have your letter, however, for various reasons he is not going to continue work on this project. I therefor took the liberty of copying your letter for the benefit of the new writers. I think you will be glad to know that we are returning to the structure of your play and that we will attempt to rely as exclusively as possible on the situations and dialog contained in the play and the novel. I was able to persuade Kramer and the writers, with surprisingly little effort, that this would be unquestionably the best approach. The new writers are Edward and Edna Anhalt. I have never worked with them before but they seem to be sensitive and imaginative writers and above all they have a tremendous respect for your writing, and seem eager to carry out your intentions. I started on March 1st and have been working hard ever since. This accounts for the fact that I am dictating this letter instead of writing it myself. At our first meeting I asked Kramer about getting you to work on the screen play. In view of the fact that we decided to return to the play and the only thing required now is a screen adaptation, which is primarily a technical job, he was inclined to turn the job over to the Anhalts, who have been working with Kramer right along. Additionally, the idea of bringing you back all the way from Italy did not appear feasible. I would have been quite insistent but I feel that under this present set-up things will progress in accordance with your wishes. At the moment I feel very sanguine about the whole thing. I will of course keep you posted at regular intervals. I think you will be pleased to know that we are going to use William Hansen for Mr. Addams. In my last letter I neglected to mention that I had read all of the book you were good enough to give me. I was tremendously impressed and moved, especially by Reflections and Heart. Also I thought your points were quite wonderful. Let us hope that I will be able to come to Europe in September. Your play sounds lovely and I do hope that you have a good time in Italy. Please be sure to keep in touch with me. As I said before I wall keep reporting to you, in detail, on the progress we are making. As ever--Fred Pin[?] Please give my best regards to Reeves. [The letterhead is Stanley Kramer Company, 1438 North Gower Street, Hollywood 28, California] April 3rd, 1952. Miss Carson McCullers, Villa Cleose Cillini-Castel Gandolfo, Provence of Rome, Italy. [A note at the top, "answered 4/13"] My dear Carson, this is just a brief note to keep you up-to-date on developments. The new writers, Mr. and Mrs. Anhalt, have been working on the script for the last two or three weeks. By general agreement, the draft which you read has been discarded. The new approach follows the play very closely in almost every respect with only such deviations as are necessary to establish the mood and atmosphere of the town and the world outside. To date I have read the new draft of the first act and I feel definitely that we are moving in the right direction. The material is still somewhat rough but I am confident that we will be able to polish so that we will have a really good shooting script. I would appreciate it very much if you would write me as soon as possible and give me the names of a few Southern towns which would be good locations for the town Frankie lived in. I expect to go East in about two weeks and while there I will go South to decide on a town which we will use. It would be most helpful if I could have your suggestions. I remember that you did not seem too keen about Columbus, Georgia. I do hope that you and Reeves will have a lovely time. Having spent a Spring in Italy, I must say that I am green with envy. My plans for the next Summer and Fall are still undecided but I hope that nothing will prevent my going to Europe toward the middle or end of September. I would like nothing better than to make a movie in Italy this Fall if I can find a good story . Have you any ideas? Please give my best regards to Reeves and do let me hear from you soon. As ever Fred. Fred Zinnermann ]And then the last, another one in this file] May 26, 1952. [Full torn] 1766 Westridge Road. My dear Carson, I am not sure whether you are still in Italy or whether you have moved to Paris by now. I am sending this letter in care of David Diamond in hopes he will forward it to you. I am very grateful to you for your suggestions in regards to Southern towns. As it turned out, the trio never materialized. For various reasons the decision was made to shoot the locations in a small town near the Sacramento River in central California . The name of the town is Colusa. It was originally built by Southerners and has, surprisingly enough, quite an atmosphere about it. I am told that when the news of Lincoln's assassination reached Colusa, there was great jubilation. The citizens staged torch-light parades. They threatened to lynch the few Northerners who were protesting . I would obviously preferred to shot a great part of the locationsin the deep South, but as I not in control I found myself unable to make the final decision. However I honestly feel that we have a chance to get very good, if not the best possible scenes up there. The script is finished now except for a very few rough spots which need further polishing. Overall we have adhered very closely to the pattern and dialog of the play. I believe you will find that your writing has not been tampered with except in a few places where editorial changes were necessary. Overall I feel satisfied with the script. My only regret is the fact that the film will based almost exclusively on the effectiveness of the dialog rather than on any imaginative, visual treatment which might have been derived from the novel. I had hoped to capture some of the mood and the quality of the novel, as well as the feeling of suspended animation, and to show all of this in visual terms . In other words, my main ambition was to make a motion picture rather than a photo play. Even though this ambition will not be realized, I feel that the film will come off in similar terms and for the same reasons that the play did. Let me repeat that I feel quite optimistic. I think we have a good chance to come up with something worthwhile which bears the stamp of your personality and inspiration. The fact that a great deal more could have been done is something I must now dismiss from my mind so that I can concentrate on doing the best possible job within the limitations. Please do let me hear from you. I hope you and Reeves are well and happy. I am still planning on coming to Europe late in September and I am looking forward to seeing you. Much love to both of you. As always, Fred Zinnermann [Last letter in series] August 26, 1952. To Carson McCullers [on same[?] stationary], l'ancien presbytère, Bachivillers, France . My dear Carson, while I was delighted to have your letter of August 19th, I am somewhat disturbed to realize that a letter which I had written in May has never reached you. It contained quite a bit of detail as to progress on Member of the Wedding. I mailed it in care of David Diamond who sent it back to me with the explanation that you had returned to New York. Thereupon I mailed the letter again to you now at the Nyack address. Since it appears that my letter has been lost I am sending you a copy. I would have written you sooner but I had no idea where to reach you. Your place sounds wonderful. I am glad to hear that all goes well with Reeves and yourself and that you are working hard on your new novel. I think that everything has gone well with The Member within the limitations I wrote about in that previous letter. Julie Harris was magnificent. It took her only two or three days to adjust herself to the new medium. Everyone was tremendously impressed with her. Ethel Waters also did an excellent job. Overall I am rather hopeful although it is impossible to make any predictions until one has seen a film with the audience. I think it will please you to know that one of the most talented young composers has been signed to do the music, Alex North. I believe that he has the right qualities. He will avoid all sentimentality and do a very fine job . Now that I know your address I will keep you posted on all developments. We finished shooting three weeks ago and Julie has gone back to New York. [Quote] I am a Camera will not reopen in New York but will go on the road starting September 1st. As for myself, my immediate plans are somewhat uncertain. I have been unable to find a good European story. I would rather not go to Europe without a well-defined project and unless something very exciting turns up soon I will probably do another picture here. Anyway, we will most certainly come to visit you whenever we get to France, of that you may be sure. Very best regards as ever, Fred. P.S.--Thanks for the letter and postcards. [Here are some letters in a folder that was called "Reeves". So, the first one 23rd July, 1947. Paris this is mailed from address] care of Madame Bercoustle, 53 rue de Claude Bernard, Paris 5, France. 23rd July, 1947. Darlings Bebe and Bone, Paris has been lovely today, warm but a pleasant Summer day, and Carson and I both feel well. In a little while we're going to the post exchange and commissary to do some shopping for the new place . We shall lay in a good supply of American goods. This afternoon I am going with Marie to clean up the new place and will probably move in Thursday or Friday as Carson is anxious to get settled into work. Our new mailing address is care of Madame Bercoustle, 53 rue de Claude Bernard. Please send all letters, packages, correspondence, etc., there. Carson asks that you please notify Ann Watkins of the new mailing address in case she wants to get in touch with her about the play. I think we shall be permanently located there, at least for several months. All goes well with us. Carson is better and shall be settled soon and working. After that I shall hustle myself into Switzerland and see what gives. We have everything we need except the two of you. By the way, we haven't seen Monsieur Jackson in nearly three weeks, but I suppose he will show up soon. Oh yes, if you see Edica or Ira before they leave, please have them bring me 15 and 20 f-l-e-n-t-s, that is, anti-noise ear stoppers. They can be purchased at Louis and Kaigle[?] at 5th Avenue and I think 45th Street. The mineral oil, Nescafe[?] and eye shades came through OK. An afterthought, they might also bring Carson about six bottles of one quarter grain saccharine tablets. This is turning into a bit of a gimme letter. We miss you, think of you and talk to you more than you know . Much love, Reeves [The next letter] 12th August, 1947. Bebe, dearest. Just a note to enclose this check. Please deposit in in Carson's account. Also would you please pay the HM bill for us? Things go pretty well with us. There was a terrific hot spell for a while, but it is much cooler now. A little tint of autumn in the air. Paris is still lovely. I got back Saturday from Calais and put Alex Call on a boat for Dover. It was all quite complicated. Carson stayed with the Cotlenkos while I was gone. They are very good to both of us. We couldn't have better friends in the all world. Carson moves quietly, eats plenty and takes good care of herself. My plans to go to Germany are temporarily postponed. I had a long letter from Kanto. He is getting along well. He published a magazine, Friudl. We miss you and talk of you every day. Much, much love to you and Bone. Reeves. P.S. -- All your letters have been through OK. Sunday night, November, 1947 . Paris. Dearest Bebe and Rita. We got your cable this morning. The urgent request for you to deposit money there meant the difference of our leaving here as planned, going by plane (you know how Carson is about heights) or waiting until December 19th to take the Queen Mary. I will explain in detail when we get home. Bebe, I assume you converted one of your bonds. We will pay you back the day we get there. At the last minute a technicality came up by which the only way we could secure passage on the New Amsterdam was by depositing dollars in New York. Tried to get you on the telephone last Saturday. Couldn't get through. As I wrote before, we should reach New York on December 1st. We leave a week from today for London and if there are no strikes, we should leave Southampton on November the 25th. Will cable or radiogram our approximate time of arrival. However, I repeat it is not necessary that you meet us. We know just where Nyack is and will high-tail it there full speed. It will be good to feel U.S. dirt again and be back in the kitchen again at 131 and to look at the Hudson. We are still both busy working on, and revising, the play full time. Much more has to be done, and deleted, to make it click . Don't mention this to George, but in my opinion Carson and I both know a bit more about play-writing and the theater than someone we know of. All goes well with us. We both are in good health but a bit sad about leaving Paris. All of us must come back soon. Love and kisses and all things nice. Reeves [And here's a letter, September 4th, [sic] in Carson's handwriting. The others were typed by Reeves but this one is hers] September 14 [sic], Precious Mama and Bones, it is an early Sunday afternoon here, warm but with a touch of autumn. In an hour Dick is coming by for us in his car to take us to have tea at his place. Sylvia Beach, the old friend and first publisher of James Joyce, will be there, also other writers and critics. I am quite well now, still nervous a bit and have never recovered the oblique vision of my right eye but I believe it will come back in time. Tomorrow I hope to WORK [w-o-r-k capital]. Boom! We received the wire from George. The Radio France, the cable company, sent it in three parts and we had to piece it together (just a mistake by the cable company). We are wiring George that it is impossible to do anything for the next seven or ten days. Every responsible person at Gallemard is away on vacation. My agent, Jessie Bernier, is helping me attend to it, and will look after it just as soon as the proper persons have returned. [underlined] I am doing all I can. T ell George. My adored Mama, I look and dream over your picture. I think of you constantly and always with the love that you well know. Now I must make myself ready to go out. Always your own, Sister. [A typed letter also on that same [?] stationary] Friday 24 October, Paris. Darling Bebe and Bones, now that our plans are made to leave, we are already getting homesick for Paris. There's no place like it on this earth, but 131 South Broadway is also exceptional. Yesterday I was able to get bookings for first class passage on the Dutch ship, City of Amsterdam. We sail from Southampton on November 25th in the afternoon and are scheduled to arrive in New York six days later. That should be on December 1st. We will send you a radiogram for sea as to the exact docking time. However, it is not necessary that you be at the pier. We know how to get to Nyack. Hope Doutelleau telephoned from London Wednesday. She can put us up there, so we shall leave for England in time to give us a week or ten days there. We are sad about leaving but also excited about seeing you again and being back in the States. Don't believe what you read in all the newspapers. There is not going to be a revolution here for some time. We are not running away. It is best that I get back and get started on my plan and it may be best that Carson be there when the play is started. Also she has work in progress that can best be accomplished there. Love, love and love. Reeves. (over) P.S.--Bebe, dearest, please send my October check here to 9 rue de Lille, but don't send any after that. Also please don't send any important correspondence after November 7th. [And here's a letter written much later.] October 24th, 1952. From the ancien presbytère, Bachivillers . Dear Bernie, How is Indian Summer in the good old U.S.A.? Hope things have been well with you and Zita. Carson and I have just returned from a month in Rome where we were working on a movie script for Selznick. Rome was gay and warm, but it is good to be back home. It seems some of the companies with which Carson has stocks have their wires crossed. As I understand it, all dividend checks are to be sent to your office which in turn will send Carson a monthly check. The following three have sent checks direct: 1) AT&T mailed check for $56.25 on October 15th direct to my bank; 2) Celenise [?] sent a check for $30 dated September 25th to John L. Brown, American Embassy, Paris. This is incorrect as our address is as above. 3) Coca-Cola-Wilmington mailed us directly to the above address a check dated October 1st for $12.60. They also deducted an additional 30% for taxes, as you will note from the enclosed card. We are none of those four things listed on their card.and this deduction is not proper. Uncle already gets his pound of flesh from us. The AT&T check is already deposited but I thought it best to send the other checks on so that you could write letters to these companies. If you don't think it best to return the checks to the companies for correction, send them to Floria Lasky who will deposit them in Nyack. But please get this straightened out with these companies. Any other companies who have been mailing checks direct to the Nyack bank? Could your office furnish such a thing as a quarterly accounting or disposition sheet? Carson would like to know each quarter the stock she has with you, their present worth and the quarterly dividends paid. In January we will be able to buy some more. I don't know whether we will sell that house in Nyack or not. I have been sawing wood for a week and we're all set for a cold European winter. Love from both of us to you and Zita. Reeves [Here's a letter to Reeves from an old war buddy, calls him "Dear Max" and it was dated 19th April 1945. The man's name is Captain Donald A. Atkinson. Supply Division, Indian Town Gap, Military Reservation, Pennsylvania. He has just been commissioned. A friendly letter. Military talk about the "old gang" and so forth.] [Here's a carbon of some orders from Headquarters.] Orders General George Q Olds Squier, 7 February, '45. Special orders. The following named officers are appointed to inspect baggage of enlisted passengers for restricted or prohibited items prohibited from entry to the United States of America. [Three captains and First Lieutenant J. R. McCullers] Report to the Army Transportation Office at this date. [Now some letters from Jessie McCullers] 104 West Hill Top Road, Baltimore, 25 Mile Lane. 12/22/1944. Dear Reeves, I am so shocked and grieved to hear that you have been wounded. The fighting has been so terrific I just couldn't see how you would escape. I have felt so tense since I read your last letter. Do hope and pray you are being taken care of. Carson sent me a wire as soon as the War Department notified her. Margarite writes me she is better. Sterit [?] is working in one of the stores during the holidays. Say he needs some money in his pocket. Can you imagine he is that old? He is in 7th grade and his mother requires him to study. Oh, Dear, just as soon as you can, let me know how you are. It grieves me to know you are so far and I can't do anything for you. I do have faith and pray that you will return to us. She [there may be a page missing here] is such a comfort. She writes that at least you will be off the front lines for a while, but it is small comfort for you may not be getting the medical attention. Back here we never know the score and you boys over there don't know what's doing here. I just work a little harder and try to think you are being taken care of. All are well. We are having a quiet Christmas. Sam's mother is sick and we are much concerned about her. Please take care of yourself and know I love you, Dear, and hope that you can recover. Mother. [Another one from Hill Top Road] March 19th, 1945. Dearest Reeves, it was so good to see you again and to know that you will be here in a few months. I am so glad to see you and Carson happy together. I received a letter from Tinny and they are heartsick about Ronny[?]. He is waiting at Indian Town Gap, Pennsylvania to be sent over seas with a double hernia and a weak heart. I wouldn't think U.S. would send him over. Darling, Saul[?] seemed so anxious to know when you have your operation on your hand and what you plan to do next. If you wish, I'll come up. I know you love New York and want to be near Carson but any time you can run down I will be so happy. Always glad for Carson to come, too. That is understood. I plan to stay on at the hospital for I do relieve a nurse and they are needed everywhere so very much. Wiley doesn't seem to be regulated so expect she and [something] will go to Washington, D.C. Wednesday for the day. Will leave key in mailbox so come on out any time. We have our phone number, PROspect 327. The doctor in Washington has always helped her so much. This doctor doesn't seem to make any change, and he has been treating her for weeks and not one bit of change for the better. I am so interested in you wanting to get into AMG. Let me know when you hear anything definite. Take care of your precious self and write to me, Dear. Love to you and Carson. Mother. May 11, 1945. To Mrs. L. Stanton Lee, Jesup, Georgia. Dearest Reeves, I am enclosing a letter that Buddie opened. Made the trip here alright. Margarete and family very well. Stanie has grown so tall. Margarete wants to know how much money to send to you if you can get two sheets and 2 pants (khaki), and a pair of light [some] top, army shoes (7) for school year for Stanie. I think I'll take him to Baltimore when I return . She wants these for school year this Fall. He has a Wynn[?] foot number 7. Do hope you are getting things done as you want them. Love Carson for me. You must make your plans to come here before you go overseas again. Do let me know from how you are. Love, Mother [And then here's a letter] 11/12/44 [That's a bit earlier] Dear Sweetie, sure hope you are well, write and can get some rest occasionally. All are well. Wiley really has a sprained foot but he is better. I am still working at University Hospital. Mrs. Clifford came to me last week and told me she had a nice room with private bath on the first floor of the nurses' house for me. I shall stay there when we have ice and [something]. I'll get my mail here at Wiley's. Haven't heard from Carson this week. She is sweet to write to me when she has news of you. I do hope you get the packages we sent you and enjoy them. So little we can do for you. Just as soon as we can get one we are having a phone. Carson gave me her phone number and if the lines weren't so busy I would call her. I plan as I doubt [that was page three this is page three. Something about something had changed] to I'll be coming out here often. I always feel good in the winter. I have two real warm coats. Helen gave me one and I bought a black one. Tom is very busy these days and [something] his health is much better. I hope he won't have to go back into the service and I am hoping and praying you can soon return. [Here's a letter] [. . . inaudible. . . ] want to hear her voice. I'll write her first so she won't get excited. Darling, I love you and oh, how I hope you are safe and can come back here real soon. With a heart full of love, Mother