From Mrs P. M. Fletcher Sir: Must you print grossly
offensive and personally abusive letters such as that of Mrs Gledhill to Mr Waugh?
Patricia Fletcher 4 Edith Terrace, London SW10 Sir: Colin Wilson, your reviewer of Graham Greene's autobiography A Sort of Life September 18) quotes from a supposed remark that Evelyn Waugh made to Greene — 'You know, Graham, you've made more money out of God than Wodehouse made out of Jeeves.'
I believe there are other versions of this story, although I cannot now remember who told me mine.
A few years ago, while in New York, I was but a stone's throw from the Algonquin Hotel, Mr Waugh and Mr Greene were staying in the hotel. Late in the night Mr Waugh popped into Mr Greene's room where a publisher's party was still going strong to celebrate another Greene book. At some point during this party Evelyn Waugh announced: 'You know, Graham, you've made more money out of the Devil than I've made out of God.'
Apocryphal or otherwise, the story does contain a more typical Waugh bite than the Jeeves analogy.
Michael Hastings 43 Blenheim Crescent, London W11 Sir: How Auberon Waugh must have writhed to read John Anscombe's letter (September 18), which equates his own elegant dissection of maniere writers with Tony Palmer's heavy-handed clowning! Stella Gibbons has described the unpleasant shock of discovering that one's favourite authors were admired by people one would prefer not to know, but how much more galling to be oneself the object of such esteem!
Discounting for the moment the possible characteristics of a literary chimera 'like Auberon Waugh and Tony Palmer' (possible subject for a competition?) I wonder who can be the 'few others' who have received the palm of Mr Anscombe's approval. Christopher Ricks, perhaps? Simon Raven? Martin Seymour-Smith? A man is known by the company he keeps, so Mr Palmer may congratulate himself on having penetrated a most illustrious circle, if only so far as Mr Anscombe is concerned— but then, Mr Anscombe doubtless represents the most exalted section of that audience which Mr Palmer aspires to impress. At this rate he may soon find himself contributing
to the scrappy and anonymous pieces in the centre of Private Eye, and Mr Waugh will have to take steps to avoid being addressed by him as " colleague ' at cocktail parties. Possibly he could adopt Simon Raven's effective if unsubtle ploy, and be sick over him. C. N. Gilmore 197 Woodstock Road, Oxford
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