Tomorrow Editions

W. N. P. Barbellion

W. N. P. Barbellion’s diary, 1916

February

  1. 1 February 1916

    Since I last wrote--a month ago--I have recovered my buoyancy after a blow which kept me under water so long I thought I should never come up and be happy again....…

  2. 2 February 1916

    "And she draiglet all her petticoatie, Coming thro' the rye." These words have a ridiculous fascination for me; I cannot resist their saccharine, affectionate, nay…

  3. 16 February 1916

    We took possession of our country cottage to-day: very charming and overlooking a beautiful Park. Have just discovered the Journal of the De Goncourts and been…

March

  1. 22 March 1916

    R---- has an unpleasant habit of making some scarifying announcement drawing forth an explosive query from me and then lapsing at once into an eleusinian silence:…

April

  1. 3 April 1916

    We met a remarkable Bulldog to-day in the street, humbly following behind a tiny boy to whom it was attached by a piece of string. At the time we were following in…

  2. 4 April 1916

    "May I use your microscope?" he asked. "By all means," I said with a gesture of elaborate politeness. He sat down at my table, in my chair, and used my…

  3. 6 April 1916

    The Housefly Problem--1916 For weeks past we have all been in a terrible flutter scarcely paralleled by the outbreak of Armageddon in August, 1914. The spark which…

May

  1. 5 May 1916

    Hulloa, old friend: how are you? I mean my Diary. I haven't written to you for ever so long, and my silence as usual indicates happiness. I have been passing thro'…

  2. 20 May 1916

    Spent a quiet day. Sat at my escritoire in the Studio this morning writing an Essay, with a large 4-fold window on my left, looking on to woods and fields, with…

June

  1. 2 June 1916

    From the local paper: "A comrade in the Gloucesters writing to a friend at ---- mentions that Pte. J---- has been fatally shot in action. J---- was well known here…

  2. 3 June 1916

    What a bitter disappointment it is to realise that people the most intimately in love with one another are really separated by such a distance. A woman is calmly…

  3. 4 June 1916

    It has now become a victory.

  4. 11 June 1916

    Old systems of Classification: Rafinesc's Theory of Fives, Swainson's Theory of Sevens, Edward Newman's book called Sphinx Vespiformis tracing fives throughout the…

July

  1. 19 July 1916

    Omniscience An omniscient Caledonian asked me to-day: "Where are the Celebes? Are they E. or N.E. of the Sandwich Group?" I marked him down at once as my legitimate…

  2. 20 July 1916

    The cradle came a few days ago but I had not seen it until this morning when I unlocked the cupboard door, looked in and shuddered. "That's the skeleton in our…

  3. 30 July 1916

    The other day R---- and I were sitting on a stile on the uplands in perfect summer weather and talking of happy days before the War--he was in khaki and I was…

  4. 31 July 1916

    This War is so great and terrible that hyperbole is impossible. And yet my gorge rises at those fatuous journalists continually prating about this "Greatest War of…

August

  1. 13 August 1916

    I hate elderly women who mention their legs. It makes me shudder. I had two amusing conversations this morning, one with a jealous old man of 70 summers who, in…

  2. 13 August 1916

    ... I stood by his chair and looked down at him, and surveyed carefully the top of his head, neck, and collar, and with admirable restraint and calm, considered my…

September

  1. 2 September 1916

    Just recently, I have been going fairly strong. I get frequent colds and sometimes show unpleasant nerve symptoms, but I take a course of arsenic and strychnine…

  2. 3 September 1916

    This is the sort of remark I like to make: Someone says to me: "You are a pessimist." "Ah! well," I say, looking infernally deep, "pessimism is a good policy; it's…

  3. 5 September 1916

    ... I was so ashamed of having to fall back upon such ignominious publications for my literary efforts that on presenting him with two copies, I told the following…

  4. 9 September 1916

    Still nothing to report. The anxiety is telling on us all. The nurse has another case on the 22nd. I looked at myself in the mirror this morning--nude, a most…

  5. 10 September 1916

    My sympathy with myself is so unfailing that I don't deserve anybody else's. In many respects, however, this Journal I believe gives the impression that I behave…

  6. 14 September 1916

    An American Neighbour We have a delightful American neighbour here whose life revolves like the fly-wheel of an engine. Even when not in eruption his volcanic…

  7. 24 September 1916

    The second nurse arrived to-day. Great air raid last night of which we heard nothing, thank God! My nerves are giving way under the strain.... One leg (the left)…

  8. 26 September 1916

    The numbness in my right hand is getting very trying. ... The Baby puts the lid on it all. Can't you see the sordid picture? I can, and it haunts me. To be…

  9. 28 September 1916

    Still nothing to report. I am astonished at the false impression these entries give of myself. The picture is incomplete anyhow. It represents the cloud of…

October

  1. 3 October 1916

    A wire to say Susan arrived 2.15 p.m. All well.

  2. 5 October 1916

    Home again with my darling. She is the most wonderful darling woman. Our love is for always. The Baby is a monster.

  3. 23 October 1916

    The fact that I can't write, finally bottles me up. Damn! Damn! Damn! If only I can get my Essay on Journal Writers done. E---- goes on well. I have a thousand…

  4. 27 October 1916

    Still awaiting a reprieve. I hate alarming the Doctor--he's such a cheerful man so I conceal my symptoms, quite a collection by now. The prospect of breaking the…

  5. 28 October 1916

    Life has been very treacherous to me--this, the greatest treachery of all. But I don't care. I exult over it. Last night I lay awake and listened to the wind in the…

November

  1. 1 November 1916

    E---- has had a set-back and is in bed again. However sclerotic my nerve tissue, I feel as flaccid as a jelly. My God! how I loathe the prospect of death.

  2. 3 November 1916

    I must have some music or I shall hear the paralysis creeping. That is why I lie in bed and whistle. "My dear Brown, what am I to do?" (I like to dramatise myself…

  3. 6 November 1916

    She has known all from the beginning! M---- warned her not to marry me. How brave and loyal of her! What an ass I have been. I am overwhelmed with feelings of shame…

  4. 12 November 1916

    What a wreck my existence has become and--dragging down others with me. If only I could rest assured that after I am dead these Journals will be tenderly cared…

  5. 14 November 1916

    In fits of panic, I keep saying to myself: "My dear Brown, what am I to do?" But where is Brown? Brown, you devil! where are you? ... To think how I have acted the…

  6. 16 November 1916

    A little better and more cheerful: altho' my impregnable colon still holds out. It would be nice if a physician from London one of these days were to gallop up…

  7. 17 November 1916

    E---- has been telling me some of her emotions during and after her fateful visit to my Doctor just before our marriage. He did not spare her and even estimated the…

  8. 20 November 1916

    In the doldrums. Tired of this damnable far niente,--I am being gently smothered under a mountain of feathers. I should like to engage upon some cold, hard,…

  9. 27 November 1916

    ... I wish I could die of heart failure--and at once! What a luxury that would be as compared with my present prospect! A Tomtit on the fence this morning made me…

  10. 28 November 1916

    The shock I gave my spinal column in 1915 up in the Lakes undoubtedly re-awakened activity among the bacteria. Luck for you! I, of all persons to concuss my spine!!…

  11. 29 November 1916

    The anniversary of our engagement day two years ago. How mad the idea of marriage seemed to me--and my instinct was right: if only I had known! Yet she says she…

December

  1. 1 December 1916

    I believe I am good for another 12 months without abnormal worries. Just now, of course, the Slug ain't exactly on the thorn--on the cabbage in fact as E----…

  2. 4 December 1916

    The Baby touch is the most harrowing of all. If we were childless we should be merely unfortunate, but an infant....

  3. 11 December 1916

    Am receiving ionisation treatment from an electrical therapeutist--a quack! He is a sort of electrician--still, if he mends my bells I'll kiss his boots. As for…

  4. 12 December 1916

    It is so agreeable to be able to write again that I write now for the sheer physical pleasure of being able to use a pen and form letters. An Adventure in Search of…

  5. 13 December 1916

    A Baby-Girl Walked down the bottom of the road and hung over some wooden railings. A little village baby-girl aged not more than 3 was hovering about near me while…

  6. 14 December 1916

    What a day! After a night of fog signals, I awoke this morning to find it still foggy and the ground covered with a grey rime. All day the fog has remained: I look…

  7. 15 December 1916

    "To stand upon one's guard against Death exasperates her malice and protracts our sufferings." W.S. Landor.

  8. 19 December 1916

    The Parson called, over the christening of the baby. I told him I was an agnostic. "There are several interesting lines of thought down here," he said wearily,…

  9. 20 December 1916

    The reason why I do not spend my days in despair and my nights in hopeless weeping simply is that I am in love with my own ruin. I therefore deserve no sympathy,…

  10. 21 December 1916

    This continuous preoccupation with self sickens me--as I look back over these entries. It is inconceivable that I should be here steadily writing up my ego day by…

  11. 22 December 1916

    Gibbon's Autobiography This book makes me of all people (and especially just now) groan inwardly. "I am at a loss," he says, referring to the Decline and Fall, "how…

  12. 23 December 1916

    To be cheerful this Xmas would require a coup de théâtre--some sort of psychological sleight of hand. I get downstairs at 10 and spend the day reading and writing,…

  13. 24 December 1916

    Everyone I suppose engaged in this irony of Xmas. What a solemn lunatic the world is. Walked awhile in a beautiful lane close by, washed hard and clean and deeply…

  14. 26 December 1916

    "In thus describing and illustrating my intellectual torpor, I use terms that apply more or less to every part of the years during which I was under the Circean…

  15. 31 December 1916

    Reminiscences For the past few days I have been living in a quiet hermitage of retrospect. My memories have gone back to the times--remote, inaccessible,…