Letters from Marcy #11: 29 July 1965

General life updates from a couple weeks after the previous one. Includes a potentially squicky comment about eye surgery. I couldn’t decide on a single pull quote this time, so here are a couple of them:

“Fear not, you are about the last letter to be writ on this nearly-illegible typewriter ribbon.”

“say, is [your new beard] straight, like your father’s was, or curly? I can see you with a little ol’ tailored goatee and a prayer shawl. If you let your hair grow you can be a prophet, maybe.”

“I’m not really mercenary, it’s just that I like to be taken out to dinner and not paying for myself.”

Letters from Marcy #12: 9 August 1965

Some followups to previous letter, a couple of weeks later. Also a kind of squicky bit about 10th-century eye surgery. Also: “woosh, some of the ideas they had about delivering babies: if it didn’t come out at the right time it was the foetus’s fault, and they considered smoking it out, starving the mother so the baby would be hungry and come out for food, and singing it songs about the glories of the outside world.”

Letters from Marcy #17: 31 October 1965

Life updates from Southern California. “this guy never has heard of some of the most important people in my world, never read some of the—most, all, I guess, of the most important books there are to read, nor seen any of the films that have been meaningful to me, nor appreciated anything other than a limited stratum of light classical music. A fine mind just going to waste, really sad.”

Letters from Marcy #20: 30 January 1966

In which Marcy settles in for her final quarters at Antioch, and expresses disdain for Bob Dylan. “Like he has some damn fine and wise and perceptive things to say about where it’s at for kids and older kids, but he’s really a kind of crappy person, most superficial and successful and not terribly bright—this from two friends who knew him pretty well in new york last quarter.”