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  • [Alexandria] 30th October 1882

        My dear Constantine,          I am unable to describe with what pleasure I
        take up my pen to write to you. I like to be perfectly quiet     with your last letter at my left-hand-side, to write down     “winged words” and bid them speed with what haste they may     to reach you. When I get up on a Tuesday morning I     say to myself, “this is my mail-day, I must write to the wise     Constantinus”, and so, during the whole day, I look forward to     the still hours of night with intense enjoyment.     I have now your letter of the 19th before me, and your slip     of the 23rd; the latter has surprised me much: for I write     regularly once a week and trust you receive my letters.     I am sorry to have been the unwilling cause of uneasiness
        to our poor, dear mother, and shall be more so if I find     out that my letters are being intercepted by someone some-     where. As you know, I don’t keep a copy of what I write     so that I cannot ascertain which letter is missing.     It may however be an oversight of some Post Office Official, and     the letter turn up when least expected.     Thanks for your approval of “Sunset Voices” and your     pretty simile. What do you think of “Phantasmagoria”?     Have I succeeded in improving it?     My head is now full with the plan of a new poem in blank     verse; a wild scheme of some 4,000 lines with no definite     subject but a certain harmony combining and breathing its



  •     influence throughout the whole. I have finished the “Proem”,     although I must confess I have not yet committed it to     paper, so I append it here thus benefiting mysellf and giving you a sample of     the projected work: ―
              “An arabesque of orient flowers and leaves,           Such as were whilom wreathed by votaries           Of Bacchus and the Muses: such as bound           The brows of poets or the Pythoness: ―           Such garland, peradventure if I find,           I wonder, who hath wreathed it? whence it came?           Unable to divine the wreather’s thoughts           Or meaning, who, distributing the flowers           In style so very fanciful, grotesque,           Some unity of purpose still retained.―

              Bear with me, friend, in mine infirmities;           Condemn not too austerely what may seem           The fanciful arrangement of my song,           But call it, as I have, an ‘Arabesque’.”―
        From this you will gather that I intend calling my new     poem “An Arabesque”. I think it is a very pretty name.     Your several extracts from the Spectator, Kentish Observer,     and Ingoldsby are highly interesting.     Now you ask about our bowab’s conduct. This worthy     was on duty up to the 10th July (the eve of the bombardment)     when Mr. Watson embarked on board the Mosquito and left him






  •     charge of the office, adjuring him to keep quiet and within     doors and that he (Watson) would return ashore within three     days. The bombardment ― as you know ― occurred a Tue-     sday and the fire on a Thursday (13th July). Watson was the first     civilian to step ashore. He walked up to our office on the     Friday in the company of a detachment of Marines, who     shot down every Arab as they went along. Watson had a     revolver and did something in that line of business too.     On reaching the office it was found that the adjoining     buildings were in flames, and that if something were not     done at once to allay these, all Canelli’s houses would
        be destroyed. Thereupon Watson obtained two Marines to     assist him and with their help forced the door of our Okella,     ascended the stairs, and found our Office locked up.     The key had been given to the bowab Abdoul.     Our office-doors, you must know, are ribbed with iron     and patent-locked. Here then was a difficulty: ― it was evi-     dent they could not force them, and it was of the ut-     most necessity for them to get at the water-taps in order     to save the building by flooding it over. The ingenuous     Watson quickly thought, and quickly decided. He lay to     his revolver and fired at the lock ― A tremendous smash!     and the whole thing was knocked to pieces ― (we have had     great difficulties in getting the doors repaired since) ―     On entering the office, and on having despatched the business



  •     of the moment, W. found that all the almanacks shewed the     date of the 11th July, thereby indicating that up to that day the     bowabs had attended their duties, but then in the frenzy     that must have seized everyone at the din of the bombardment,     they fled ― and have not been heard of since.     It is now said that Araby in those days gave explicit     orders to the soldiery to shoot down all berberines, as part-     isans of and faithful to the Christians. The poor devils having     got wind of this, of course took to their heels immediately     and very few have been heard of, and still fewer have returned.     We have as a rule ten berberines in our employ. Of these     two only remained. One of them, hid himself in one of our     lighters and the other took refuge in our Marina Office.
        Araby’s trial has not yet commenced. Two English     lawyers have come out for the defence: Messr. Napier and     Broadley.
        Alexander in his letter to Aristides this week does not     hold out much hope of success with La Fontaine. Has     this man been rude? Pray give me the details.     I am sorry to see your late literary depression, but     no matter what happens I am confident that you will     one day succeed, and succeed brilliantly.     Some phrases cannot be translated literally from     one language into another. However I think that     “he went to the encounter of” is not bad English,     and word for word translation of “il alla à la rencontre     de.” ― It is a hackneyed thing to beg pardon



  •     for bad writing, but I do believe an apology is requisite     for mine this time ―         Somehow or other little bits of dirt clog my pen     every now and then, and create something like an oasis     of ink ―         However it is time I should end and trouble     you no longer to decipher these irregular characters.      I love you dearly and am always           Your faithful                Johannisberg

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REFERENCE CODE:
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GR-OF CA CA-SF02-S01-SS02-F20-SF001-0009 (384)
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Letter by John Cavafy to C. P. Cavafy
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30/10/1882
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43.5 x 27 cm

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Handwritten letter by John Cavafy to C. P. Cavafy, on two double sheet letterheads of R. J. Moss & Co., Alexandria. Pages 2-4 are numbered at top right. Comments on John’s poems and excerpt from one of them. Update on the political developments in Egypt.

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English

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Writing in ink. Watermark: R. J. Moss & Co Alexandria. Physical item wear: oxidations.

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The transcription and editing of the letters of John Constantine Cavafy addressed to C. P. Cavafy was first carried out by Katerina Ghika; said transcriptions were subsequently uploaded to the official website of the Cavafy Archive.

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Cavafy comments favourably on John’s “Sunset Voices”, while the latter awaits his brother’s critique on “Phantasmagoria”. John copies some verses from a new poem of his entitled “Arabesque”. Reference to blank verse.

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DOI: 10.26256/ca-sf02-s01-ss02-f20-sf001-0009
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PERSONAL PAPERS
Correspondence of C. P. Cavafy
Family correspondence
Incoming correspondence of C. P. Cavafy
Incoming correspondence by John Cavafy