Why should I develop those horrible bourgeois traits!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today, in honor of the chaotic consumerism that is Black Friday, we have a letter from Sylvia written the week after Thanksgiving expressing some jealousy of her neighbor’s clothing with self-admonishing comments for wanting such things. This letter feels fast and easy for Sylvia to write – she is recapping her week of social engagements, updating Alex about Adrienne’s first words, and relaying to him the projects that she’s working on. It’s a letter that feels uncensored (not in the official sense) and direct. She also mentions how the censorship of Alex’s letters means she misses not only the censored part but the words that are on the back of the page and are cut out before getting to her.

Sylvia kept busy and was the associate editor of the building’s paper. I don’t have a copy of the newspaper she refers to sending here, nor do I know what the building’s paper was called but I’ll try to do some digging.

Thursday – After Thanksg

Darling husband,

Last Tuesday I left Adrienne with my mother until Wed. night. In the meantime I went to a show (hurray) with Virgie! It felt good to be free for a day. We saw “Anna Lucasta” which is a modernized version of those tragedies of the ‘80s. What carried it was the Negro heroine’s acting – and she’s good! Then Thurs. I went to your sister Anna’s house for a Thanksgiving dinner and stayed there with Adrienne until Saturday. That was some visit, eh? Saturday night the editor of the paper was up

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Here and also our next door neighbors and Sunday Al and Vange (?) came up. They both look swell. Al is now a corporal! Some stuff, eh? When they left, our neighbors came up with a pie and I made coffee and Better Lasenberg walks in!! She looked splendid – lovely clothes, etc. She’s designing or something for a large dress corporation at $50 per and dresses beautifully! Was I envious! Mais c’est la guerre [but that’s the war] I don’t really mind not having clothes – (stop kidding myself) but what the hell! There’s a war on and I’m lucky to have a family in good health.

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Why should I develop those horrible bourgeois traits!

Anyway, dearest husband, with clothes or without clothes (especially without clothes) I love you! I exepect this letter to reach you in Brooklyn – so its very sketchy and hasty – and I know I’m a terrible wife for not writing regularly but it’s because I’m so sure you’ll be home any day now. –

Don’t scold me for it but try to understand how I feel about this. It does seem sort of ridiculous to put everything down on paper when you’ll probably hear it from me.

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Anyway, dearest, darlingest, wonderfulest, lover of mind, the baby is fine and is well and warmly clothed. She’s a little devil and adorable. She understands everything I say to her – and frequently I picture the two of us – you and me spelling out words in front of our 1 ½ year old daughter. She says “house (?) – bed – man – bay – Dickie – happy – Edward –“ and many more but not very many more. She talks and talks and talks and I can’t understand a word. She frequently scolds me and once said very clearly “Dammit” she loves to say “Edward” which she pronounces “Ethward.” When we’re on a train, your bright child tries to blow out the electric lights! And she tried to sing “happy birthday” and one day

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She came out with the word “happy” which she repeats in rhythm. Darling, you have a very clever, healthy, intelligent and active daughter. Just like her mother (no comments now).

The family is fine – Leon is in New Guinea and would like to receive mail. Can you get to see Eugene? Incidentally, many of your letters are fully censored – and so it’s pretty hard to make out what you say as they cut thru the paper and so I miss out the censored part and what’s on the other side!

Darling, I love it here in Ft. Greene.

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How I wish you were here to share it all with me – I’m sending you the latest copy of our newspaper. I’ve checked those items I was connected with or wrote. This coming month I’ll also write a consumers column. I’m Associate Editor – nice paper, isn’t it? We might have one or your letters published in the coming issue – will send it to you if you’re not here by then.

Darling, I’ll write again soon – and in the meantime, all my love to my only love.

Yours,

Sylvia

P.S. I asked Eugene to send Cookie some wooden shoes – but he doesn’t know if he can do so. Can you get them for her as a sourvenir if you are where I think you are? Love Syl.

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Sounds like Alex may be in Holland when she posts this letter?

Sylvia lists some of Adrienne’s words in this letter. I also try to keep a list of the words my son is saying at about this age. He definitely understands what I’m saying even when I don’t think he’s listening. Lately we’ve been practicing animal sounds and when I mentioned something about the Lion King to my husband I heard from the stroller and little roar and saw two little hands lifting over his head – to add to the ferocity, of course. Like his great aunt at this age, he’s also picked up a curse word that we’re trying to discourage but is too funny to really do so. Appropriately for the holiday, he’s also started saying “Thank you” which is quite heart warming.

Anna Lucasta – the play Sylvia goes to see – was written by Philip Yordan and inspired by Eugene O’Neill’s Anna Christie (originally about Polish Americans but changed to be about African Americans). It moved from Harlem to Broadway in 1944 and was made into a movie starring Eartha Kitt and Sammy Davis Jr. in 1958. The play was rehearsed and put on at the Schomburg Center and then moved to the Library Theatre, at 103 West 125th Street, which is just a few blocks from my new home.