“I think England is the very place for a fluent and fiery writer. The highest hymns of the sun are written in the dark. I like the grey country. A bucket of Greek sun would drown in one colour the crowds of colours I like trying to mix for myself out of a grey flat insular mud. If I went to the sun I’d just sit in the sun; that would be very pleasant but I’m not doing it . . . I shall be nearer Bournemouth than Corfu this summer.”
DECEMBER 1938 Blashford, Ringwood, Hants
I like this quote because it’s pretty much how I feel. I’m not someone who the sun helps to write. I favour rain, cloud and a nip in the air. I’ve always thought I’d never be able to write somewhere where the weather wasn’t constantly changing. Admittedly, I didn’t manage very well one year when the scaffolders came and wrapped the block I live in in cling film and no light got in for six months but other than that one time, I too like the grey country.
How about you? Have you been nearer Bournemouth than Corfu this summer? And do you fancy taking a guess at who wrote this and to whom?