Читать книгу The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien - Christopher Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien - Страница 6

[Tolkien became engaged to Edith Bratt, whom he had met during his adolescence in Birmingham, in January 1913, when he was twenty-one. The following letter was written during his final year as an undergraduate at Oxford, when he was studying English Language & Literature, and at the same time was drilling in the University Officers’ Training Corps as a preparation for joining the army.]

[Not dated; October 1914]

Exeter College, Oxford

My Edith darling:

Yes I was rather surprised by your card of Sat. morning and rather sorry because I knew my letter would have to wander after you. You do write splendid letters to me, little one; I am such a pig to you though. It seems age[s] since I wrote. I have had a busy (and very wet!) week end.

Friday was completely uneventful and Sat too though we had a drill all afternoon and got soaked several times and our rifles got all filthy and took ages to clean afterwards.

I spent most of the rest of those days indoors reading: I had an essay, as I told you, but I didn’t get it finished as Shakespeare came up and then (Lieutenant) Thompson¹ (very healthy and well in his new uniform) and prevented me doing work on the Sabbath, as I had proposed to do. . . . . I went to St Aloysius for High Mass – and I rather enjoyed it – it is such ages since I heard one for Fr. F.² wouldn’t let me go when I was at the Oratory last week.

I had to pay a duty call to the Rector³ in the afternoon which was very boring. His wife really is appalling! I got away as soon as possible and fled back in the rain to my books. Then I went and saw Mr Sisam⁴ and told him I could not finish my essay till Wed: and stayed and talked with him for some time, then I went and had an interesting talk with that quaint man Earp⁵ I have told you of and introduced him (to his great delight) to the ‘Kālevalā’ the Finnish ballads.

Amongst other work I am trying to turn one of the stories – which is really a very great story and most tragic – into a short story somewhat on the lines of Morris’ romances with chunks of poetry in between. . . . . ⁶

I have got to go to the college library now and get filthy amongst dusty books – and then hang about and see the Bursar. . . . .

R.⁷