A letter written from Chylice, where – as can be inferred from the content – Arnold Majorek recently arrived (probably from Warsaw, where he had been staying in late 1942 and early 1943. The first three pages are written on two separate sheets, notes handwritten by the addressee (probably made many years after receiving the letters, only when arranging the correspondence, perhaps before handing it over to the museum): "1" in three places indicates the first letter from Chylice. Full text of the letter:
Renia,
forgive me for writing only today, but I had to familiarise a bit and take root (for how long?) in this "jardin des bêtes sauvages" [reference to the title of Georges Duhamel’s fashionable novel "The Garden of the Savage Beasts" from 1934, the second volume of the saga "The Pasquier Chronicles", published in Poland just before the war, translated by Kazimiera Woyde]. The latter is justified because, so far, I have not met a person who would not present an interesting field for analysis for a psychologist, or even a psychiatrist. So first my favourite: a literally wild weed, grown on the asphalts of Warsaw, or rather Warschau, because the war fell precisely on the period of its development.
The parents: simple people, unpretentious, unfussy, and therefore nice – especially him – not too intelligent – especially her – but honest, modest, hardworking. They are completely defenceless and helpless towards children (there’s also a little daughter); they behave as if their begetting was a necessary, but somewhat inappropriate fact, the consequences of which they are not able (indeed they are not) to cope with. As for the daughter, I am not speaking of her (it is still a completely green human sprout), but as for the indecency of increasing the number of our Tiergarten [Ger. "zoo"] (O Gott, wie gross er ist! ["Oh God, how big it is!"]) with this botched specimen (Waldemar Otton vulgaris), I completely agree with them.
The boy is naturally good, sometimes he has quite nice and noble impulses, but [he received] the street upbringing (cinema "Amor" [a cinema in Warsaw – editor’s note], "The Last Cowboy", Wallace: "He killed and ran away!" [last allusions vague, perhaps they refer to the American film "Get up and fight" from 1939, in which the main role was played by the then star Wallace Beery], hence early awareness of the facts of life, complete lack of illusions about people and phenomena), the company of "Warsaw guys", wealthy parents (nouveaux riches): all this made W.O. a specific type: faint intelligence – cleverness and combinatorialism; fake "Warsaw" politeness – lack of good breeding, complete lack of fantasy – a strong tendency to lie, spoof, tell "gut busters"; cowed, shy with strangers – arrogant, insolent, using a specific tone of superiority and conceit (rich daddy!) towards his own people. In addition to all that, a stirring "miko" [obsession?] about his small stature (physically, in general, not too well developed) and sparse hair.
All this tangled complex on two legs (status quo haters), with an outstanding mobility of all the other members and excellent development of the vocal cords, requires extremely subtle movements [?], and subterfuge. More about it at another time. Next:
the only person, besides the children, living with me: the housekeeper-maid-nanny – my collaborator in the economic aspect of W.O. breeding – a long-time friend of our bread- (and marmalade-) winners, thus representing their interests in relation to me, colloquially Miss Maria (as per birth certificate: Janina Zofia Stefania). I have actually known her (not personally, from hearsay – as a sui generis curiosum [a kind of peculiarity] since before the war. Who, then? – a doorkeeper’s (maybe not literally) daughter (one of two), who has rubbed shoulders with people from ballet circles, more and less "European", more and less related to the "Ziemiańska", more or less "ff" – fingle and fangle (excuse me, oh purity incarnate!) who, having come to abhor and hate poverty and drudging commonness, having acquired a certain (how meagre!) resource of "culture", "intelligence" and "aspiration", having breathed the smell of melba, pineapples, "Soir de Paris", having tasted mazagran, kabul [i.e. sauce], Mazfel [?] etc. (vide: Kamil Norden: "The Golden Backstage" [unidentified title; Kamil Norden – Jadwiga Migowa’s pen name]), went through a long series of "fiancées", "friends", "guys", to lure a "husband", lose him in the war (?), cheer up with a fiancé – this time without the quotation marks, if she was forced to take the position she took. So now? – hard work (the baby and the farm), memories (see above!), which lead to rebellion instead of soothing, a temperament you do not know what to do with (heu me infelicem... [Latin ‘alas, unhappy me...’]) , dreams, aspirations buried, now nothing but cooking, diapers, putting the thermometer into the baby’s (excuses...) rectum, toil and "service" at the "boors’" (ipsa dixit [Latin ‘she said’).
(to be cont’d), but for now, my best regards.
(The last paragraph added clearly after some time, not with a pen. Unsigned).
