[ 1942']^86
handicapped as I am being so far from the centre of things. My latest
attempt was to send the book and journals to Dr. Harry Roberts who
writes of medical and psychological things in the New Statesman and
Nation. The Freudians are going to tot-schweigen you [kill you by
silence] and they have so big a say
'
in journal reviews these days. Then
there is the uprooting from the war. The psychologists are all scattered,
in hospitals, the army, etc. Private practice has almost ceased in Lon
don. I sent out journals' to Harley Street* men and question if they ever
got them. How are you being received in U.S.A.? Where do you get
the capital to carry on printing and research apparatus? There must
be good people who are interested �nd helpful.
'I am well but never really happy in exile in Wales. The climate,
the Calvinism, the difficulty getting staff, they all get me down. I long to
get back to the east coast. So many little pleasures have gone. I have no
car now and have to queue up for buses that are always overcrowded.
Whiskey is £2 a bottle. I have no golf, no recreation except dull digging
in the garden. This isn't a grumble; millions are much worse off; it is
only an attempted explanation. But next term I am going to return to
treating kids psychologically and teach less. What troub�es me is that
I can't write' now. I began a book on the future of education, wrote
three ,chapters ... and stuck. First time I ever stuck with a book. I re
quire a few months on' Willy Reich's sofa. I long for the end of the
war and a crossing of the Atlantic.
* Where fashionable London doctors had tb�ir offices.