MITCHELL, Margaret. Typed letter signed (''Margaret'') to Herschel Brickell, Atlanta, 30 October and 1 November 1937. 2.2/3 pages, small folio, the first two pages single-spaced, the last double-spaced, on her stationery with name embossed in blue at top of each sheet, usual folds, with stamped, addressed envelope.

MITCHELL, Margaret. Typed letter signed ("Margaret") to Herschel Brickell, Atlanta, 30 October and 1 November 1937. 2.2/3 pages, small folio, the first two pages single-spaced, the last double-spaced, on her stationery with name embossed in blue at top of each sheet, usual folds, with stamped, addressed envelope.

MITCHELL ON HEMINGWAY

The first page of her letter is devoted to her views of Ernest Hemingway, prompted by Brickell's critical review of To Have and Have Not in the New York Post: "...Your review did a great deal toward clarifying my own feelings about the book, for, while I was fermenting with ideas for the first time in years, I was not able to straighten them out, and while discussing the book with John [her husband] I had to fall back on helpless wavings of hands. The tragedy of it is that he can write so well, and [A] Farewell to Arms still remains my favorite modern novel in spite of this confusing work of his. The first time I had any idea of Hemingway's brutality for its own sweet sake and sadism for the joy of sadism was when I remarked to a bookish young man that neither Death in the Afternoon nor [Green Hills of] Africa interested me very much...He replied in a manner which I found shocking -- and I use the word shocking in the old fashioned sense. He said, 'I liked those two books better than anything he has ever written. Hemingway has a preoccupation with death that fascinates me, and with cruelty that I find most stimulating.' I thought this over at some length and I realized that the qualities which repelled me in these two books had been the same qualities that aroused a bright shine in the eyes of my friend. And I have never cared much for the young man since. There's too much sadism for its own sweet sake in the world today without having sadists deliberately titillated. I know that sounds very old fashioned and moral -- just like those loathsome people who say, 'Why can't authors write about sweetness and light? There's so much of the sordid that we do not like to be reminded of it.' From the viewpoint of technique its brutality defeats its purpose where one strong passage in a long book can set the reader's scalp atingle..."