From England
War And The Writer
Stephen Spender
EDITORS' NoTE :
This letter was written for publication in the Decem–
ber issue of
Common Sense.
Since
it
arrived too late for inclusion in that
issue,
and
since
it
seems of special interest to
Partisan Review
readers, the
editors of
Common Sense
have very kindly passed
it
on to us.
London
Oct. 25, 1941.
Since my last letter, I have joined the A.F.S.-the Auxiliary Fire Ser–
vice, soon to be renamed the National Fire Service. At present I am under–
going a fairly strenuous training, manning pumps, climbing ladders, jump–
ing off roofs into the 'taut sheet,' etc.
I begin on this personal note, because you will then understand that
I have been spending my time chiefly in the company of unskilled work–
men, ex-clerks, and the like. But before I go on to discuss these, I should
say why I chose to join the Fire Service, because my motives throw some
light on the position of creative writers here.
Creative writers in wartime England have no status at all. They are
neither reserved, nor given any kind of work as writers in the way that
some journalists and painters who are appointed 'official war artists' or
asked to do camouflage, are. They are driven either to join one of the
armed
forces or to use such pull as they may have to get into a reserved
job, such as some Ministry or the B.B.C. In either case, the prospects of
their being able to go on with their own work are extremely slight.
If
they
are in the army, they become stupefied by the routine, the physical exer–
cise, and the lack of any kind of solitude or privacy.
If
they are in a
Ministry, they are likely to be transformed into hacks, civil servants,
or/and careerists. Of the two alternatives, the more active life seems
preferable, because it is at least a new experience.
The question of writers is rather complicated, and since it seems too
late for the authorities
in
England to consider it now, perhaps it is not too
late for America to do so with their writers. Some writers in the P.E.N.
Clubs have recently issued a manifesto on the subject. They don't think
that writers should be reserved from the war altogether, but that they
should be given some opportunity to write. The conditions of modern
totalitarian war are such that they might easily snuff out literature alto–
gether (as they have already done in some countries) unless a little
thought is given to the subject. One has only to think back to see that the
conscription of say Shelley, Byron and Keats into the armies fighting
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