Marrakech 9/11-1933
Dear Poul,*
Thanks for your letter, which I received via "Politiken" this morning.
You don't know how happy it made me to get in contact with you and Vibeke in that manner. I happened to have lost your address, and I had wanted to write for a long time, but nothing ever came of it because I had no idea where to address a letter!!! That's the honest truth! I had forgotten your parents-in-laws’ address in Copenhagen. I could always have written to you there. Until now I had forgotten your father-in-law’s name! And I couldn’t even ask Mother to send me the address. Shows you how soft in the head you get here "sous le soleil Maroccain!" It shouldn’t surprise you, Kid, when you consider that this is the third time I have spent 3 to 4 summer months where it is 40 to 50 degrees in the shade. Centigrade! At home one walks around in a necklace and high heels. And when the temperature gets down to 25 in the morning one puts on a sweater – otherwise your teeth chatter! This gives you some idea of what it's like here in Marrakech la Rouge – Capitale du Sud de Maroc!
Pardon me for asking, but are you still married to Vibeke? One never knows in Scandinavia. If by any chance you have changed wives I would appreciate it if you would give me Vibeke’s address. She was so sweet and kind to my poor little Lily that I have always kept a great big spot for her in my heart, and I would sincerely like to write to her.
You who know how much I loved my Lily would understand better than most people how strong an attachment I feel toward those who were good to her. And you are one of them, dear Poul. Tomorrow, the 12th, it will be two years since I lost her. I still haven't gotten over it. But I’ve got the sweetest and most wonderful husband in this world. We have 3 doggy boys and a kitty girl, as well as an Arab "Fatma" to look after the house. We have a nice little villa here in the European quarter, and a little Fiat to ride around in and go on excursions in the Atlas Mountains and go hunting. My husband is a great hunter!! And it is teeming with game. Several times we have gone hunting wild swine in the Atlas, and me the only woman with 5 Europeans and 70 Arabs.
You drive for about an hour (at 4 in the morning!!) up into the mountains. Then you get on a mule and for 2 hours make your way up mountain paths where the least misstep of the mule and you would break every bone in your body. Then the hunt begins. We’ve brought 5 wild swine home. When you get back at 10 in the evening the only thing you can do is take a hot bath and then crawl in bed. You’re more dead than alive, but it's a marvellous sport. I always go along in order to get rid of a few of the 10 kilos I’ve put on here in Marrakech.
Regarding the "Decameron" – it's terribly sweet of you to have thought of me. I have long wanted to do an illustrated edition of the Decameron, so it would please me a great deal to do so. All I need is a publisher who is reliable in financial matters. I’ve just completed a book for my publisher in Paris: Briffaut, rue Furstemberg. It is to appear at Christmas. At the moment he has a number of ideas, one of them being a Decameron. But as the French publishers are for the time being more or less ruined by the depression I would naturally prefer doing it with a Danish publisher – if he is solvent! Naturally he has to pay me in advance, as otherwise one has no hold on a publisher. If not you can sit and work your fingers to the bone and then they throw in your face again on any pretext whatever! Here I will itemize for you the most significant things I have illustrated in Paris in luxury editions; it isn’t much, especially as the most recent large volume hasn’t been published yet on account of the depression.
1. Memoires de Casanova
Editeur: Briffault, 4 rue Furstemberg, Paris2. Sur Talons Rouges (Allatieri)
Editeur: Briffaut, 4 rue Furstemberg, Paris3. Contes de la Fontaine
Editeur: Briffaut, 4 rue Furstemberg, Paris4. Les Contes d'Andersen
Editeur: Piazza, rue Bonaparte, Paris(Cette derniere edition n’a pas encore paru
a cause des fais trés grands qu’elle exige,
trops grande pour le temps de crise.)5. À paraitre
"Fortuno" de Gauthier
Editeur: Briffaut, 4 rue Furstemberg, Paris
Avant tout ceci ont paru pendant la guerre: un album de 12 planches sur Pietro Aretino: "Raggionamente" et un livre d’aventures de Allatieri: "Contes de mon per le jars" ---
Excuse me, but I see that I have fallen back into French. I hear nothing but French, Italian and Arabic here. The only Danish I see is in my letters to my mother and a couple of girl friends in the north!
With regard to the price, I can only tell you the prices people have paid me in Paris. Piazza paid me 30,000 francs for 20 illustrations (hors texte) and a few "entetes," "cul de lampes," etc. Briffaut has lately paid me interest of 15,000 francs for 12 much smaller illustrations (hors texte).
It all depends on what kind of illustrations are in question; whether it is full pages or small drawings, color or black-and-white. There one naturally has to have a "Prix de parfaits." You understand all this, and so I am asking you to set it up the way you think it can be done. I need enormously to make some money, even if I have to go below my previous prices. So I’m asking you to arrange it as you see fit. You have a much better sense of business than I have. As I say, I need to make money, and it would amuse me to be able to write to my Paris publisher that the Decameron was already taken, as naturally he will try to offer me a cut price on account of the depression, even though we are very good friends. He is nevertheless a Frenchman! So, my dear little Poul, do what you can. I would be delighted to illustrate the Decameron. It's something I have dreamed of for a long time. And I know Florence and the costumes from the period, the publisher can rest assured!
So there you see, I have written you an interminable letter, pour le seul plaiser de causer de nouveau un moment avec toi!
Let me hear from you again soon. I am enclosing a couple of not very good photographs, but which you are to share with Vibeke. And do send me a definite address where I can always send you a couple of lines.
Now I’m going to give this to my husband to send from the Consulate, where you can always write directly to me.
A thousand sincere
greetings to you and Vibeke from
Your always devoted
Gerda
* Poul Knudsen. Danish author and film writer. Co-authored Sibelius's ballet Scaramouche
Marrakech, 10/22/1933
Sweet Poul,
Your letter arrived at the consulate just as I got back from a trip to Casablanca, where I stayed for 12 days during a veritable deluge. The heavens haven't stopped opening their biggest floodgates over the coast here in Marocco in 50 days. I have re-found Africa's eternal sunshine here in Marrakech – but it is by no means warm, and as there is nowhere the faintest installation for heating I am writing to you wearing a fur coat!!! Outside in the sun it is pleasant and mild, but in the apartments and in the shade...!! You know the south, and so you know that nowhere can one freeze like under the southern sun!
But let's parlons d'affaires. I have just written to Hostatter (Piazza's successor) asking him to mail to your address (Store Kongensgade etc.) either two or three reproductions from the Andersen or the same number of originals, so that the Andersen business can fall into place. You know that I would like very much to have done it without Hostatter, in order to get revenge on.him. If it is possible, then do it. I am not malicious, but there are some people whom it would give me great pleasure to give a good kick in the ass! You know what I mean!!! It would have delighted me to do a new Andersen for the countries mentioned. It would have been a lovely revenge. Think of it! I'll do it as cheaply as possible, just to get revenge on Hostatter, the puffed-up toad, the Sodomite......
As regards the Decameron, do everything you can to bring it off in the most advantageous manner. Exploit the two competitors!
The fact of the matter, my friend, is simply that from the lst of December my husband is without a job. This is just between you and I. A new law in Italy has decreed that officers on leave of absence ("en congé") may not occupy positions in the consulates as they already have certain "appointements," which in my husband's case, as Capitaine Aviateur, means around 1000 francs a month. As it is absolutely impossible to live with even a modicum of comfort here in Morocco for less than 3000 francs you month, you can understand the situation. On the 1st of January we are moving to Casablanca, where naturally there are far more possibilities for both of us than here in Marrakech at the frontier of the desert, and where all intellectual and artistic life is utterly extinguished. Casa is an entirely European city. But the Depression shows its effect everywhere to a frightful degree. We both of us have many propositions and many possibilities in Casa – but, en attendant, mon petit ami!!! I couldn’t ask for anything better than to be out of all that official twaddle and gossip that goes with being in an official career. It has gotten more and more insufferable for me during these 3 years. I shall and must, in order to be myself again, earn my own money and dare to say and do what I feel like! You know what I mean.
lt isn’t that my husband loves me less. No, he’s a magnificent, splendid and peerless hunk of man. But I will and must earn my own money and be independant. It's in my nature. I can not be dependant, even on a man whom I love dearly, especially when he is of a jealousy which Italians have en particulier. I must be economically independant. You know what I mean. I am writing to you the way I do because I know you understand me – and you know me.
So, my little Poul, do what you can with regard to the Decameron. Try to get the most possible out of it, without wrecking the project. I will be in ecstasies at being able to say to my beloved Nando that I earn my money myself and that I am thus free and can say and do what I feel like. Encore en fois: tu comprends!!!
We’re moving after January lst to Casablanca, where my husband has had a number of offers. "Casa" is a rather large and old European city, Marocco's largest port on the Atlantic. I am thinking that everything will be different; especially the climate by the sea suits me far better than the desert frontier here in Marrakech (225 kilometres a l’enterieur sud) where all energy vanishes. Casa has a nearly Southern European climate, and you have the Atlantic Ocean to smell. We’ve just rented an apartment in a quite modern building from which I can see the whole ocean. I’m looking forward like a child to installing myself there. Poul it isn’t for nothing that we were born in a country surrounded by the sea. I suffocate if I never see water.
My address after the lst of January is the following: 175 Boulevard Anfa. Casablanca, Maroc
We’ll just get through Christmas here with the Italian Consul and wife and a couple of other friends – and then we move. And I am, as I mentioned, delighted at getting away from all that ado.
From your former "Madame," to whom I wrote a long letter, I have heard nothing. Perhaps she is travelling.
In any case I am sending you, sweet Poul, all good wishes for the New Year, all wishes for success in all respects and hope to hear from you as soon as possible.
Translation copyright © 2000 by Kenneth Tindall