DREISER’S RUSSIAN DIARY

Map illustrating Dreiser’s itinerary. The solid line on this map shows Dreiser’s route from the time of his arrival in Paris to his travel by train to Berlin, Warsaw, and finally to Moscow. The broken lines follow his movements within the Soviet Union. At first Dreiser was centered in Moscow, from which he traveled to Leningrad and Nizhni-Novgorod. Afterward, he began a more extensive tour of the country, beginning with a trip to the Ukrainian center of Kiev, and then on to other major Ukrainian, Caucasian, and Georgian cities. The last lap of his journey took him to port cities along the Black Sea. He concluded his tour at Odessa, from which he took a train back to Paris. Not shown on the map are occasional stopovers at small towns and the one special visit he made to Tolstoy’s home at Yasnaya Polyana, which is located one hundred miles south of Moscow.

En Route

To Russia

October-1927

From a Russian Soviet Banner

“Life without labor is robbery.

Labor without art is¹

Oct 3rd 1927-I am apprised by a telephone call from Pell² that some representative of the Soviet Russian government is seeking my address in order to lay before me an offer of a free trip Russia—the object being to show me truthfully what has been achieved by the Soviets or their representatives in the 10 years in which USSR has been functioning. I suggest that he furnished the gentleman with my address.

Oct 7-1927. I receive a telephone call from an individual who says he is Mr. Royce of the International workers Aid and that he wishes to make an appointment for F. G. Biedenkapp, Executive Secretary of that organization. That Mr. Biedenkapp speaks for the official Soviet regime in Moscow and wishes to explain the nature of an invitation he is charged to extend to me. I appoint the following morning at 10 A.M.

Oct-8-1927- Mr. Biedenkapp does not appear. Instead a telephone call from Mr. Royce. Mr. Biedenkapp has been called to Chicago but will reappear presently and lay the matter before me as planned. I am curious as to the validity of all this.

Oct 11-1927- Tuesday. N.Y. City

No further news of Russia until today when I am called on the telephone again. It is Mr. Biedenkapp himself. He is back from Chicago & leaving soon for Russia. Would it be possible for him to see me today. I appoint 3 PM. Punctually he appears—a small, dark self-impressed man—and fortunately over-impressed by me. He begins rather unnecessarily with things about himself,—his pressing duties, trip to Chicago, delays. An automobile which he was driving recently came to grief. It overturned, crushing for a second time his left hand which had been crushed by another accident years before. I thought that sad & most strange—lightning in the same place,—and said so. Now here, however, was his mission. The International Workers Aid was after its fashion a Russian Red Cross. Its plan was to aid workers in all countries (I wondered just how) and it was now rapidly being organized in as many countries as possible—Germany, France, England, America.

“Just how many workers in America do you represent?”

“About 300,000.”

“And you seek to do what for them”

“Furnish them relief in distress due to strikes, et cetera. Furnish them life-insurance at a low rate; legal, medical & other aid in a crises.”

Can this be the Soviet entering through the door of charity I pondered. But said:

“And what does the International Workers Aid want of me?”

“Nothing that will cost you any money. We have been authorized by the Soviet Government at Moscow to extend to you a personal invitation to visit Russia at its expense”.

“Yes. And what for?”

“To witness for yourself what has been accomplished for Russia by the Soviet Union in the ten years of its existence”.

“But why me”

“The Soviet believes you to be the outstanding literary intelligence of America and it would like to convince you, among others, of the meaning & value of its existence

“What others”

“Well here is how it is. The Russian Goverment is planning a decennial celebration of its reign which begins Nov. 3^rd and ends Nov. 10^th wishes to show its economic and cultural developments. There will be pageants, exhibitions and entertainments. You personally will have an opourtunity to meet the leading government and art figures and forces in Russia and learn for yourself how things stand.”

“In a single week?”

“No. In your case the time is to be extended. You may stay a month or six weeks if you wish, go where you will, accompanied or un-accompanied by Russian officials, and judge for yourself what has been and what is happening.”

“And to what end.”

“Well, your opinion in America, should it chance to prove favorable—and we think it will be favorable—would have weight here”

“The Russian Goverment is seeking recognition by the American Govt.”

“It is”

“But supposing my opinion should prove unfavorable?”

“We will risk that”

“But suppose it should”

“We—or rather the Soviet Govt, reserves the right to argue your conclusions”

“After I return to America.”

“Yes”

“And who is to pay for this long stay”

“The Russian Goverment”

“All of my expenses to & fro?

“All of your expenses”

“And who is to guarantee me this?”

“Well, I will tell you how that is. The majority of those invited— some 1500 in all, are not going to be re-imbursed for anything but their expenses after they cross the Russian frontier. Some few, like yourself, are to be guaranteed all their expenses.

“By whom.”

“The Soviet Goverment”

“And how am I to know that”?

“We will bring you official cables from Russia, if you choose.

“Well, I so choose. I have important work in hand. Under no circumstances would I trouble to travel to Moscow to see a pageant that endured for a week. My only object would be to see the real, unofficial Russia— the famine district in the Volga, say.³ Some of the small towns and farms in Siberia & the Ukraine, some of the rivers and fisheries and then—the principal engineering and manufacturing feats or features introduced or achieved during the life of this goverment. If you can bring me letters and cables guaranteeing me my time, expenses & personal freedom I will go, but otherwise not.”

“And how soon could you go?”

“Why should I need to go soon?”

“The official celebration. The Soviet Goverment would like to be able to announce that you are coming to that.”

“But I am not interested in any celebration or convention”

“But you could meet many distinguished people who talk English & discuss with them their views. You would be entertained and learn maybe—(I do not mean to influence you in any way) of some things which you yourself might choose to see. After the celebration you proceed at the goverments expense”

“And you will confirm this by letter & cable”

“Yes”.

“Well, then how soon would I have to go.

“To reach Moscow in time for the celebration you would have to leave here by the 20^th at the latest.”

“In nine days!”

“Yes”.

“Well, bring me your letters and cables at once. Until I see them I will not feel justified in preparing”

“I will send you a letter from myself in the morning.” Today yet we will begin cabling & show you our replies as quickly as they appear.” (See letter file marked Russia) Mr. Biedenkapp bustled out.

Oct. 11-1927- Tuesday, 5 PM.

Just now I talked to Helen about this.⁴ She looks upon it as flattering and yet to the advantage of the Russian Goverment. “Oh, you do not know what it means to them here. Your name attached to a favorable opinion. You do not see yourself as you are—but I do.” And then—

“But I hate to see my Dody go so far away. All the nights! All the days! Could I go long”

“Now, Babes—haven’t I just described how I would like to travel in Russia—3^rd class maybe. How free I would like to be. It will be cold there. I am told that winter begins about Nov. 1.”

“Yes, I know—but if my Dody can stand it cant I”

“Maybe—but I think best not. I think it best to go alone”

“Will you sure be back in two months

“Not sure, no; likely, if I have luck.”

“You gonto fall in love with one of those Russian girls and get yourself all tangled up again—and run down too, maybe, and not come back.”

“Who, me? Russian girls! Those wild Bolsheviks? Aren’t these American girls bad enough? No Bolsheviks.”

“Oh, yes—thats the way you always talk. But just let one come along. Dont I know and then get sick, maybe. Can I come over and meet you on your way back—London or Paris”.

“No meeting me in London or Paris. Never.”

“Why not”

“Because.”

“Why not”

“Cant I have two months of spiritual peace. The ascetic life.”

“The ascetic life. Yes. You”

“The ascetic life. That’s what I said. No girls. No fol-de-rol. All earnest observation & meditative travels in the snow. Long talks with learned officials & wild theorists. You dont speak Russian anyhow.”

“Neither do you”

But I’ll have translators—scribes and emmissaries.”

“Please, Dody”

“No London; no Paris. I must have rest and peace”

“Oh, yes. dont be so mean. How can you be so mean. I’ll be so lonely by then, too”

“Well, think of all the things to be done. That property at Mt Kisco; my letters and affairs here. Whose to take care of Nick (the Russian wolf-hound)”⁵

“Ill get Marion up at Iroki (the country place) to look after him.”

“Oh, well, dont pester now. I cant say any how. I may not go.”

“Well, if you do—can I?

“I wont say”

“And when you come to London will you bring me a cute little pair of Russian boots? red ones, maybe. Oh, wouldn’t I look smart in those.”

“God—I am to travel six or seven thousend miles to find a pair of red Russian boots. That’s what the revolution was for. So that I could go and find red boots. Well, any how, if they have ’em—I will. But I hope the Russian goverment doesnt find out about it”⁶

New York Oct 12-1927: Wednesday

Saw B______ at office at one P.M. today.⁷ She was troubled at news of my going. The long distance: The misery of waiting. I would not come back the same. There would be some other girl before then. Was Helen going. (“No”) Was I telling the truth? Supposing she came over in December—would I meet her some where. B_____ might let her. He had said he would let her go with a girl friend. I countenance it as a possibility. But really see no hope for it. Because of the likely departure, though, a strong evocation of passion. I think to myself after we have wearied ourselves, —that I shall miss this intense zest. Her eager devotion has brightened my days not a little. I promise to look for a Russian bracelet for her. And to write—as often as possible. But I see no great possibility of that. Return to the studio (200 West 57^th St) and begin calculating things to be done in my absence & things to be taken care of before I leave.⁸ Brandt & Brandt.⁹ Articles for Bye.¹⁰ Articles for Elser (Metropolitian Syndicate).¹¹ A letter from Kyllmann (Constable & Co. London) desiring an introduction to “The Road to Buenos Aires.”¹² A telephone message from Robin saying he will have the “Genius”—(allegory form) ready for final reading on Saturday.¹³ I arrange for him to come to 200 West & go with us from there to Mt. Kisco (Iroki) in the car—over Sunday. Then work on “Relia”—for Bye—and later to bed.¹⁴

N.Y. Oct. 13-1927. Thursday.

Am somehow in the thick of things—feeling that I am going. Ed Royce— (in some way connected with the International Workers Aid—telephones to say that Mr. Biedenkapp is going to leave for Russia on Friday and that he has delegated him (Royce) to carry out arrangements with me. He has been cabling and has two messages from Moscow, one from Maxim Litvinov, assistant commissar of foreign affairs. I am to come to Russia as a guest of the goverment. Another from Olga Davidovna Kameneva—(Trotzky’s sister and the wife of Kamenev, Minister of . She heads the Soviet Society for Cultural relations). For the Soviet Govt—(through her husband) I am invited to come—and all obligations undertaken by International Workers Aid will be fulfilled. I agree to recieve lan Gileadi—of the foreign department of the Amalgamated Bank of N. Y. (the Soviets Bank in New York) who is to bring the cables and arrange all my affairs. I appoint Friday morning at 10. At the same time I am asked if I cannot sail Wed. Oct 19^th since on that day the Mauretania leaves and the bank can obtain for me a large room on it.¹⁵ I agree that I can and inform Helen, B____, Esther, Louise, and Ch_____ of my proposed departure.¹⁶ Esther, with whom I spend the evening, wants to know if she cant come to London and return with me!

N.Y. Oct 14-1927. Friday

200 West 57^th St. Mr. Gileadi arrives at 10. He looks and talks like an Argentinian but states he is an international of Tunisian origin. Has been in India, Buenos Aires, Brazil, England, France. Very affable, practical and ernest. Has the cables and a letter from the International Workers Aid containing guarantees. I am to be furnished passage on Mauretania to Cherbourg & from there to Paris. From Paris I am to pay my fare to Berlin where I am to be met by Mr. Biedenkapp, who will reimburse me and provide special transportation to Moscow. My companion—if I wish, is to be Henri Barbusse the French author who is said to speak English. I agree. He arranges to see me again on Saturday morning with ticket & letter of credit. He also takes my passport in order to bring it to date. And now that I have arranged to go, will I see reporters—and where. I agree to see a group on Tuesday morning—the day preceding my departure. He leaves & I notify B & L.¹⁷ Also Bye, Brandt & Brandt, Elser and Cerf of the Modern library.¹⁸ Accept $1,000 from Elser on account and 1,000 from Cerf against a 10,000 Edition of Twelve Men in the Modern Library. Decide to clear out office at 1819 Broadway.¹⁹ Have letters from Louise, Ruth, Esther, Maud —but cannot see any of them.²⁰ Am conscience stricken about Maud.

N. Y. Saturday-Oct 15-1927-200 W. 57th St

Hurry through any number of things in order to recieve Robin at 3 and hear him read the play. From one to two play with B_____ in office. She arranges for a series of letters which she is to write; and one of which I am to read on ship board each day. Helen is all agog because of the responsibilities that are suddenly to descend on her. From 2 to 3 go over finances with Pell & set aside $8,000 in cash for use in my absence. At 3¹⁵ Robin comes to 200 West & reads play, or a part of it. We adjourn to Iroki, stopping at White Plains for dinner. The peace of that place. The silence & the stars. I speculate on the oddity of preparing it with so much labor only to leave it so soon. To bed with Helen.

N. Y. Sunday - Oct 16 -1927 - Mt Kisco. (Iroki)

All day here with Robin & Helen. Boyd & Madeline come at 1 PM.²¹ We dine at the Pines Bridge inn. Boyd brings an article in the World by Alexander Harvey with a picture. The article is in Harvey’s best style. Tea at 5. We ride around the lake—then back to N. Y leaving Robin at White Plains. Nicholas & I make the best of the back seat. At 200 we get up a cold supper and talk about Boyd’s article on T.R.²²

N.Y. Tuesday, Oct 18- 1927- 200 W. 57

At 9³⁰ Mr. Gileadi arrives with a number of introductions to Moscow personages (1.) Serge M. Eisenstein, leading Soviet movie director. Did “Potemkin”; 2. Vsevolod Myerhold—one of the principal theatrical directors; (3) Olga Davidovna Kameneva—Trotzks sister—head of the society for Cultural relations; (4) Serge Dinamov, Russian critic, whom I know; (5) May O’Calaghan, translator—cultural relations expert; (6) Ivan Kashkin—head of the State Academy for the Arts; (7) Shura Gavrilova, conducts a salon of celebrities; (8) Ivy Litvinova, wife of Maxim Litvinov—asst commissar of foreign affairs; (9) Jackaina Tverskaia—moving picture director; (10) Jacob Doletsky, director of Tass; (11) Karl Rodek, journalist;—connected with Tass. (12) Bill Heywood, ex-American Labor Leader (I.W.W.) (12) Vladimir Mayakovsky (13) Constantin Sergeievitch Stanislavsky, director Moscow Art Theatre; (14) Alexander Yakovlevitch Tairoff, director Kamerny Theatre, Moscow . . . . . . He assures me that these will prove of the greatest value and that I am to present them all. At the same time a delegation of ten reporters, and I give my views—or rather my reactions, to this opourtunity. (See N. Y. morning papers for Wed. Oct 19-1927).²³ At 11³⁰ they leave. I have a meeting with B____ at the office. She is upset by the change and more passionate than ever. Return and work on my Gallery of Women. At 5 PM. Robin arrives and reads some changes he has made in play. Stays for dinner. He & Helen & I go to the Venetian gardens. In spite of all my varietism I realize that I really care for Helen. It is spiritual; not material. I feel sad at leaving her.

S.S. MAURETANIA

Wednesday Oct 19. 1927. N.Y. 200 W. 57

Am informed by Mr. Royce that there is to be a dinner at Sam Schwartzes — 140 MacDougall,²⁴ See Mr. Gileadi once more who has another telegram. Somehow, now that I am leaving, I feel sad about Helen. She is closest to me of any. At 1— I see B___. She has a bunch of letters from herself which I am to read en route! Jack Powys telephones & comes up to talk over Russia.²⁵ At 4 Waldo Fawcett arrives with a word about my opourtunity. At 5 Helen & I leave for the Steamer. She has bought a large bunch of Dahlias which she arranges in the cabin (57-B Dock). We leave coats & bags & go to Schwartzes in time for the dinner. A large company are gathered: Ernest Boyd, J. R. Smith, Hans Stengel, W. W. Woodward, Joe Freeman, Diego Rivera, Joseph Wood Krutch, Floyd Dell; Carl Brandt; Ernestine Evans; Lister Sharp—(a large crowd).²⁶ Speeches by Dell, Rivera, Ed Royce, Joseph Freeman, Ernest Boyd, Mrs. Woodward—and a reply by myself. Konrad Bercovici gives me a lucky Roumanian handkerchief²⁷; Hans Stengel an ivory cane; Magda Johann a letter. At 9 it breaks up. A crowd follows to the boat. Flowers from B___. Books from Maud. Esther and Caroline come to the room.²⁸ I face more newspapermen; two squads of cameras. There is endless kidding until the shore bell rings. At 11 I find myself alone. The boat is pulling out. On the dock I see Esther waving.

Sunday, Oct 23- 1927. On board SS Mauretania

The usual ocean cruise. Up late Thursday & read articles & letters given me to peruse. Also work on Robin’s Version of The “Genius.” At dinner meet Ben Huebsch, the publisher, who comes to my table.²⁹ He speaks of Joseph Anthony, a writer, on board.³⁰ Also of Mr. & Mrs. Ernst.³¹ A wireless from Heywood Broun recommends them to my attention.³² I promise to come to his table on the morrow. On Friday (lunch) go to the table & meet all—including a Judge Muller of Holland. After lunch we agree to meet at five and visit Diego Rivera, who is travelling 3^rd. Through Mrs. Ernst I question him as to Mexico—then bring them to dinner. He shows photos of all his interesting work which he is taking to Russia. After dinner we adjourn to my cabin where we talk until midnight. On Saturday read & write—posting these notes, writing letters, finishing play. Witness a prize fight on sun-deck at 3 PM. Talk to Anthony who represents the Hearst publications. Send wireless to Helen & Kyllmann of London. Finish reading “The Road to Buenos Aires.”³³ Dinner in my room. Work until midnight. Sunday (today) sleep until noon. Talk with Muller, Mr. & Mrs. Ernst, Anthony & Huebsch at lunch. Discuss Russia, Anarchism, Communism, Law, the movies, drinks. I am promised more letters by Ernst. Return to this room & bring up these notes. Begin an article for Elser.

Monday, Oct 24-1927. S.S. Mauretania

By the courtesy of Judge Muller acting as translator I have just had a long talk with Diego Rivera, the Mexican painter. He states that intellectually he is a collectivist—not an individualist—that he sees the mass as the recipient, from superior creative powers, of quite all of the important impulses and aspirations which make for its development and so the development of the race. (Creative Evolution after a fashion.) In this mass the individual finds himself—in some instances, very, very low on the sensitive or mental scale—in others, as in the case of Shakespeare, Voltaire, Aristotle, Goethe, very high. But however high and however individual the individualist, still it is from the mass—his true sensitive relationship with and understanding of the same—its aspirations, impulses, compulsions, limitations, et cetera, that he draws—if he is of the creative and hence the representative type—his true significence or—at least, import. The scientist, for instance, is nothing more then a sensitive in the mass—that chances to represent and by good fortune resolve some real or occult necessity of the mass; some next step or increment in the slow change process. Ditto the artist, the statesman, the general, the poet. It is concievable, of course, that some such sensitive mass point should recieve direct from the creative impulses or forces, above or behind man, some faint intimations of things necessary to the mass—thoughts, implements—what you will—but only in so far as he subsequently identified the intimations with the needs or use or service of man would he be significant as an individual. In short he who leads most serves most. Hence his collectivism, and he feels that he is the greater artist for being a collectivist. Hence his sympathy with the communism of Russia.

I asked after his artistic history. He states that he was born in Mexico but early went to Paris to study. There he fell in with impressionists, neoimpressionists and cubists—and for a time was greatly influenced by their ideals and their technique. Later, when the great war broke out, he found himself at variance with his brothers of the brush. They felt that the new Russian revolution promised—(as a natural consequence, a complete endorsement of the cubistic idea of art. And they wanted him to go to Russia in order there to develop cubism as the great, expressive art of the future. However, with this he did not agree. Instead—being temperamentally a collectivist—he felt that art should be more directly and simply expressive, not only of the emotions and impulses of the mass but also of its understanding. To clarify himself on this point, he decided to return to Mexico where he hoped to symbolize in some fashion the dreams of the mass. And to that end he has been painting murals for the goverment. Recently, his work being fairly advanced there, and Russia appearing to offer an opourtunity for mass expression in art, he decided to go there, taking with him introductions and a large collection of photographic reproductions of his work. With these he hopes to induce the Soviet authorities to commission him to decorate Soviet Bldgs. If successful he will return to Mexico in order to complete some work there (for a few months only) and will then return to Russia for an indefinite stay.

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A talk with Max Ernst the lawyer today reveals that he doubts the validity of current science as it relates to astronomy. He has (via Michaelson & Einstein)³⁴ reasons to believe that the stars are not nearly so far away as the conventional statements of astronomers indicate. Also that they may not be the vast things predicated by current mathematical deductions. Another one of his thoughts is that the moon is the most powerful physical and emotional influence on man—and the earth (—the tides, menstrual periods of women, aberrating control of the insane—) and that more & more study should be given it. He also feels that the old lunar year (13 months) should be restored so as to set man mathematically in tune with his real mathematical and emotional control.

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We have a farewell party of sorts after dinner on this day—Anthony, Morris Ernst & Mrs. Ernst, her sister Mrs Epstein, B. W. Huebsch, Judge Muller, Deigo Rivera & myself. Many rounds of drinks. Ginger beer. Puns. I have a feeling that Mrs Ernst does not like me. At midnight we part. I go on the top deck for a bit of air—then to bed. Am reading South Wind.³⁵

Tuesday, Oct 25- 1927 - Plymouth, Eng. (SS. Mauretania)

Raining. The business of getting off. Papers come aboard. No auto trip to London for Ernst. I breakfast with Judge Muller. Work on article. We move on to Cherbourg.³⁶ Tips—Boots $1⁰⁰. Bath Steward 2⁰⁰. Room Steward $7⁰⁰. Dining room waiter 5⁰⁰. Hat check man 1⁰⁰. Doorman 1⁰⁰. Elevator man 50^cts. Total 17⁵⁰. Lunch, and I have a talk with Judge Muller as to American and Dutch legal procedure which see below. The gulls in the rain at Cherbourg. The Cunard man who puts Muller & Huebsch in C5 at my request. The London Daily Mail man. Passports shown in Grand Salon. We go to the lighter³⁷;—then the train. The cooks man & his work for us. New tips 1⁰⁰. The beggars outside the train. “Mistaire”. I fall for the smile of a beggar girl of twelve but find she is working for an older woman. Beggary in France. A. Dubonet.³⁸ Rivera goes on same train. A good French dinner. More talk of French & Dutch law. Paris. The Daily Tribune reporter I give an interview.³⁹ We go to the Cafe del Opera.⁴⁰ I buy a 4^th of July toy. Then to the Madeline⁴¹ Then to the Cafe Dome (Rivera).⁴² French girls. A sandwich & beer. We taxi back to hotel. Fare 15 francs.

In connection with the beggar girl—this. I never saw one before, who intrigued me. This one—age, say, 14—was obviously compelled, either by her mother or a padrone, to beg. But she had natural beauty and a most moving smile. Now this natural beauty and the smile is the point. I find myself a chronic victim of natures creative formula, as expressed in women, even at this age. Knowing this girl to be a beggar and merely using her smile for what she could get by it—still this smile—and with this knowledge in my mind at this time—this artful use of her mouth and eyes with a purely practical intent was still sufficient on the beauty or art side to sway me to throw her money. I might almost say that I could not help it. It was like electric energy or force conveyed from her to me. I must do what that paltry formula implied—an urge—give. And give. Only to see her calmly turn and allow her hag of a mother or mistress to pick up the drinks!

Wed. Oct 26-1927- Paris - Hotel Terminus

This day has been one of the most beautiful ever. The golden vintage of Paris in October. Up at 8 to breakfast with Muller & Huebsch. The usual kidding & punning. London Daily Mail & Paris Herald announces my arrival. We have an ideal French breakfast—omelettes—jelly—coffee. Then to Portier for tickets. We are promised first class to Berlin for the 3³⁵. Huebsch & I agree to go together. Then off together to see about Huebsch & Mullers trunks. The depot Portier. “Ah! but that will cost you”! and “Ah, but that will cost you!” We begin to kid about “costs” in francs. “Ah—what thousends & thousends will it not cost us—francs & francs & francs to change even so much as our minds or use a public urinal. We take the trunks from the Gare del Est to the Gare du Nord. More “Ah, buts.” Yet the gull-like charm of the portier is quite irresistable. The gayety of the French temperament. The lightness of its approach to life. I hear that the lowness of the franc still oppresses the French mind, but I do not see it. Such freshness. Such vivacity. Perhaps the day—but still—it is achieved. And never quite the same thing in New York, or any city that I know. Only something like it in N. Y. And the flower stands. And the aged newsboys—with their caps. (Decrepit almost.) And the uniforms & insignia—hundreds & hundreds of uniforms & insignia mingled with the smart & the shabby. On the whole France is coming back. That is evident. The French barometer is rising. We get very gay ourselves & after checking the trunks walk & then deposit ourselves in front of a cafe in the Ave Lafayette near the Magazin Lafayette. And here a gay & easy discussion of life— its meaning (The Philosophers Club) with Muller & Huebsch. Whats it all about? What the import. Muller thinks we shouldnt ask. No answer needed. We are. What is behind the arras is the same as what is before. It is beautiful or dramatic. Anyhow no one wants to die—not even the feeble or disappointed. Oh, yes, there are suicides. So are there lunatics or accidents. But in the main .... And then I suggest Paris—the cafe seats—as ideal perches for the old & weary who have a little money. Huebsch thinks yes. Muller—not so sure. Even the oldest should have a little something to do—not be permitted to feel that there is nothing left but to look on. He thinks that would require more courage than most old possess. I offer it, finally, as an ideal state for myself.

From thence—larking—to the Luxembourg—in an open taxi.⁴³ We walk & discuss flowers, artificial gardening, Napoleon, tree-trimming as practised in Europe—the French school boy in his short pants & with bare knees & the French working man with wide loose pants. We look in book stores & shops, go to an open air table in the Boul St. Michael & each eat something—I snails—with a bottle of wine. Muller & Huebsch rail at snails & frogs legs, but will eat eels which I abhor. Next to Sainte Chapelle of Louis XI^ths day.⁴⁴ “Ah ha—6 francs more! And dont try to avoid it. Ah no. You must pay in Paris.” But the beauty of it. I am quite faint with it and sad—as before a gorgeous wax lilly in a pool under the moon. I sacrifice to the God of Beauty—the impulse to beauty in nature. Here are flowers. Here is wine spilled on the floor. I will burn incense & myrhh. I will kneel & strike my breast & touch the dust with my forehead. I will! I will! Only do not forsake me, Oh God of beauty. Touch my eyes! Incline my heart & my mind. Give me ever—sensitivity—pain at beauty. Let my heart ache! The tears flow. Bring me—oh, bring me again to Sainte Chapelle to pray as I do now.

Out & into a taxi. We have little time—only 45 minutes. But at the hotel no tickets. Ah, Mussyour, none. Non, non, non! All sold. They had said so in the morning. Ah, yes. But we had gone then. And what was a portier to do. Tell him that. But tonight. At 10. A reserve to be sure. Yes, yes. It should be ordered now. A thousend & fifteen francs & then all we would need to do. I suggest that we go to the Compagnie des Wagon Lits ourselves.⁴⁵ Why trust the damned frogs. If we come at 10 and .... “But oh, Mussyour—no—no—no. You misjudge us French.” Still we go. And get the tickets. And get our bags & check out & take them to the Gare du Nord in order to be free of worry. And Muller, who is going to Holland, leaves to make a few purchases. But Huebsch & I, after agreeing to meet him at the Cafe de la Paix at 6³⁰, strike out. We pass a P.O. & I cable Helen. Then in a taxi to the Boul Mich—just to be going. And once there—near the Rue de Fous, a drink in side walk cafe—crowded. And meeting of all people—& whom I have been hoping to see, Llona (Victor Llona) in Paris for the day—(after two months in the country).⁴⁶ And with him Ernest Hemingway (“The Sun Also Rises”) and some one else. Talk, talk, talk. France is still low, but . . . Art is not much now . . . . . Ludwig Lewisohn⁴⁷ .... James Joyce: — When I come back in January. But heavens it is 6²⁰. We must run. A taxi. Muller. He has just seen the mayor of Amsterdam sneaking by with a girl! Ha, ha. We are off to the Café “Au Bif ala mode” but cannot find it. Compromise on the Cafe Kobus (Restaurant Kobus) and a grand meal. Martini Cocktail; Soupe Creme! Poulette Kobus, Crepes Kobus—a full bottle of Pommard—and all for one called to see how the struggling Russians are doing. We discuss the French, their cooking. This cooking! Ah, glorious! I describe a Loco father novel I could do—the Thaw-Deeming Ludwig of Bavaria, type.⁴⁸ Millions. Sexual weakness; strong sexual desire—(mental) hence beauty; — and so love defeats—and strength defeats; and commercial defeats—but with lunatic dreamers—a passion for beauty and finally suicide or death by betrayal. But heartache—amid material & even sensual splendor. Both eager to see it done . . . . . We part from Muller at 8¹⁵ At nine Huebsch & I take a little walk through the grounds of the Palais Royale. Ah, here he stopped two years ago. And for weeks. The little shops, little restaurants, little theatre! Cafe au lait over there in the morning. Dinner at La Remi Pedoque. Drinks & talks at the Cafe Dome from 11 PM. on. Ah. We find it 9³⁰. Run. Run for a taxi. So to the Gare du Nord. Quick for our Bag. Ah, a communist to greet me. “I am sent by the International Workers of the World to bid you welcome to France”. Very good, my friend I think but you are not a very pleasent type. I wish the I.W.W. would sent a less dubious type. You are not much—a complaining leech of sorts— I think. Still—thanks—thanks. And the talk of Russia—how welcome I will be. I sigh with relief when he goes. Into the train. We toss a coin for upper or lower—Huebsch & I. I get the lower. The rattling & bouncing train almost drives me mad. These wagons lits cars are not clean. No toilet paper in toilet. No soap. One small towel person in Wash room. Oh, that dear Pullman Co—which I have so often cursed. Pause and recieve a blessing. I take some of the curses back any how.

Thursday. Oct 27- 1927- Paris to Berlin

The Paris-Moscow express. After a wretched night we get up at 2 P.M. We are at Hannover.⁴⁹ The Germans. Some good-looking girls walking to & fro. We begin on the Germans. Clean, thrifty—the lovely, carefully gardened fields. Soon Heine, Goethe, “Have you read?” I mention Freusen. Also trying put on Huebsch shoes for 7 minutes before deciding they were not my own. Into the dining car. A fine German dinner—excellent and with beer. I notice the large adv’s of South American Steamers & begin to sense Europes new & threatening relationship to South America. We think only of North America & Europe but here now are Argentina, Brazil— Columbia—a whole new world. And appreciated & respected by Europe. And so this to talk of. Also the Uneeda Biscuit idea in Germany.—A dozen kinds of “inner-seal” cakes in a basket. “Take your choice for say 50 pfennig.” “They are grabbing our ideas”, I say. And so to Berlin. I think I see IWW waiting for me & slip away to the Adlon to post these notes & write letters. I get a typical German hotel room—perfect—but no bed light, no soap, no place to hang a strap—no writing paper—but fifty circulars about Germany. Oh, I will go out & have coffee & cakes. They are all I want.

Friday, Oct 28- 1927- The Hotel Adlon, Berlin⁵⁰

On the way to Berlin Huebsch and I had a talk. The theory and philosophy of goverment. Society, —good bad or indifferent must be organized. In fact, via—Evolution—propulsion from super-directive forces it is organized—man being an implement in the hands of presumably intelligent creative energy. (Who are we—created beings that we are, to criticize Creative Energy. No Anarchy—according to its greatest expounders—is little less than—(once the act of revolution has been performed) reliance upon—or return to Creative Energy as expressed by man. And in that Energy—as in the God of the Christians or the Mohamedems, is no wrong. So regardless of experience hither to—and once the act of revolution has been performed—as in France in 1798—or Russia—1917—the totality of mankind—or of any body of men in any country, may be left to its instincts. Without leadership, law, courts, jails or mandates of any kind from one to another, it will function as well or better than organized society as we know it. In other words the miraculous will become the real. No man will or can say to his brother thou must or thou shalt. Hence, as mankind stands, there will be—until society itself agrees with the anarchist, constant need of revolution. For the true anarchist must quarrel with and rise against all forms of human constraint or enforced human direction. Hence, if you will, the quarrel of present day anarchists with the Soviet goverment which, after revolution, did not contemplate miraculous instinctive directives on the part of the mass but rather an ignorant and mis-directed and non-to-instinct mass which required education—and worse, —propulsion in the direction of worth while ideals. In short that was why Alexander Berkman and Emma Goldman, while sympathizing intensely with the Russian Revolution as such and the Russian people (apart from their leaders) afterwards were still (by those leaders) driven from Russia.⁵¹

So far so good. On the other hand, as opposed to the Anarchists, who rely apparently on benign Creative Energy—undirected and unhindered, there stand (one) the Communists who apparently believe in direction by leadership. Yet that leadership drawn from intimate and sympathetic units of the mass—and fresh and fresh every hour or year; but also a changeful as well as sympathetic leadership—one so sensitive to the moods & the instincts of the mass that, when these same coincide with the inherent necessities for organization (as judged by experience) the moods and the instincts of the mass will be reflected in acts of goverment. And there will not be, as in the case of Moses & the Jews, any Twelve Commandments⁵²; or as in the case of the United States any stiff and none-too-malleable constitution. Leadership—chameleon-wise, will reflect the best of mass mood; its real and constructive necessities. (Two) The Socialists, whose bible—an inspired and alas fixed word, is Das Kapital by Karl Marx. But here, as any one can see, is quite all law and direction. For “From each according to his capacity; to each according to his need”—is quite the first and final and iron law of Marx. But who is to interpret the capacity of each—or his proper reward; and who is to smilingly accept the judgement. Neither the anarchists or the communists as we have seen. And yet, strangely enough— and in most instances—the outstanding interpreters of these theories of goverment accept the Marxian doctrine that capital—as such—throughout the world—(the material equipment of man as he has contrived it) is the work of his hands—and these same but thinly if at all connected with that evasive and yet (to come) glorious something—mental inspiration, vision, direction, enthusiasm, which is the pride and the justification of (Three) the Capitalistic State and the Capitalist wherever he chances to be.

But the Capitalistic State, as before it the religious and the military states, each depending upon mental inspiration, vision, direction and of course organization, are things of experience—with many illustrations past and present to examine—whereas Anarchism, Communism and Socialism are, with the exception of the French Revolution (—the period immediately following the same)—and the present Soviet Experiment, without any satisfactory illustrations in history. Hence the dubiousness of the present experiment in Russia; the necessity of looking into not only its theory but its actual practise—apart from theory—and its consonance or conflict with human nature as we find it. And hence, as I said, my present trip to Russia.

“But cannot human nature be somewhat moulded—if not altered, by enforced theory—and so that same theory made to work fairly well? Especially when a given theory might agree with a particular temperament of a particular people. Not all nations are alike temperamentally. (Huebsch) “I am ready to believe. And not all temperaments could accept a [unreadable word] theory of goverment might. I have sometimes thought that some nations or races might have (as in the case of the Jews & the Slavs) a giant capacity for misery—just as some others—(the English and Americans and the Germans) appear to have a capacity for iron and almost clanking material organization—and routine. So be it. None-the-less—as one looks at life, organizations must come from somewhere—(even among the most ignorant and savage of tribes) or no life. But today—in the upward & onward push of highly organized states, is it not a question whether a relatively poor (in so far as material organization is concerned) state might not (social competition being what it is) fail? We shall see. Anyhow on this trip to Russia it is about all this I desire to learn.”

After which we fell to discussing the perfectly marvellous “Crepes Kobus” we obtained of that worthy Paris restaurateur. And to wishing we had more. But Missy our Kobus is a fine illustration of inspired and yet iron restaurant organization. And supposing his restaurant an anarchist or communist affair, from whence would have come our perfect “crepes”?

Berlin. Friday, Oct 28- 1927- Hotel Adlon

I am sick this morning—not able to rise. Sore throat. Bronchitis worse than ever. I feel so poorly that I decide to call a doctor (Bernheim). As I am thinking of this the representatives of the International Workers Aid arrive. They tell me they were at the station the night before, 40-strong—and with flowers, but that I disappeared. There intention was to escort me to the Adlon! Luckily, as I see it now, I missed them. They still have flowers and greetings. Really, I wonder at all this to do. It is so meaningless. I do inquire for a physician, and immediately Dr. Med. Felix Boenheim— a youngish dark man who does not appeal to me, is called. After they go, he arrives and makes a serious examination, deciding that it is bronchitis plus a cold. I am to fill two prescriptions and go to the turkish bath in the Admirals Palast.⁵³ My day is laid out for me by him. And I decide to go. But before that, more people—(the representative of the Hearst Papers in America—who has a cable offering me $3,600 for two articles of 3000 words each—in Russia.⁵⁴ I tell him to accept. Next a representative of the Berlin 8^th hr who wants an interview.⁵⁵ Finally I get to the Admirals Palast and am astonished at the size of the Germans there—immense naked men who quite confound me with their enormous stomachs, shaved heads and heavy balls. And so stolid and undemonstrative as compared to the French. But the bath itself is much less attractive than almost any in New York— large—but heavy. And to me not as clean—certainly without nearly the attention bestowed upon a visitor in an American bath. I stay until six— feeling much better, and return only to find Federu (Herr Doktor) waiting. He tells me of the suicide of Scheffauer—and what was behind it—a wife of 37 and a mistress of 26. He took the young mistress with him, stabbing her three times. (Love.)⁵⁶ And he tells me what to do for my bronchitis. If I take Godeoment, obtainable of the Engel apotheke here in Unter den Linden, I am to be cured. I decide to get some. When he goes I work on my notes. But, a telephone call from Huebsch. He has connected with Sinclair Lewis, a Miss Thompson who represents the Public Ledger of Philadelphia in Germany,⁵⁷ and Frau , the wife of the man who wrote Power—now a success in America.⁵⁸ They are coming at 10 PM. since I cannot come to dinner. And when they do Frau proves very charming. I suspect an affair here, if I could but stay. The smiles, giggles. And she explains that I need some one to mother me. I heartily agree. And at 11:20 Sinclair Lewis & his friends—a to me noisy, ostentatious and shallow company. I never could like the man. He proceeds—and at once, to explain why he did not review An American Tragedy—as though the matter was of the greatest importance. Only half of it was sent him. I smile believingly. Then beer & sandwiches & silly talk until midnight when all decide to leave. And Madame indicates that she may come back tomorrow, if she can. I wonder.

Sinclair Lewis and Dorothy Thompson. (From Yale Collection of American Literature, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University)

Berlin, Saturday, Oct 29- 1927- Hotel Adlon

A bright day. More visits from representatives of the Soviet—Willi Munzenberg—for instance, the General Secretary of the Berlin Communist Workers; Frau Windmuller, a paid assistant, a French delegate to Moscow & others I do not know. The talk is meaningless. How am I getting along. Do I need anything. All tickets, passports, etc. will be arranged for me. They go . . . . . After that a telephone from Sinclair Lewis. The man is seething with an ill concealed dislike but some how feels it his duty to pay attention to me. Next a visit from Dr. Felix Boenheim whom I do not quite like. He wants to know how his cure is working out. Indicate that I am somewhat better. We talk and I find that he represents the International Workers in the free—or partially free, medical service. Yet he is not a communist—a sympathizer he calls himself. He begins to talk of my chest. He is disturbed by the state of my bronchitis. Since I am going into Russia, a cold country & where there is none too good medical service—especially in the rural districts, it might be wise, etc. A picture (X-ray) might be taken. He has a “colleague”—a “Herr Colleague” who could do it. I may say here I always dislike and mistrust medics who begin to lay plans for additional service in this manner. “How much”? I ask bluntly. The X ray will cost $12⁰⁰. Oh, well. What is $12 I think. There may be something in it. I am going to a cold country. “How long will it take?” “Not more than an hour I should think.” I dress & go with him. He promptly climbs into a taxi for which I pay. —3 marks. Next I am introduced to Herr Dr. E. Ostwald (Kurfarstendamn 36), who is the extra man. After that I am made to wait in another room for 30 min. while they confer. Later, with great German solemnity (and the volume of it), I am called in & asked to strip to the waist. And the hardest looking girl assistant to a medic that I have seen in years stands by. Pretty but cold. Then in front of the extra.⁵⁹ And the two, beyond the plate, peer into the mysteries of my chest. Ah! “Selva schovere!” Ah. “nicht gut.” “Sehen sie here. Und here.” I feel fine but begin to suspect dire news. And once it is over; my blood pressure taken, & various questions asked—I am told the big news. I have an enlargement of the aorta & that is what is pressing on the left lung and producing the “broncheetus” as they call it. But worse. My state is very bad-very. Any moment I might drop. I should not think of going to Russia—or, if I do I should have some one (preferably a medical wiseacre) accompany. I see it all—they think I am a millionaire. Am I not an American! Am I not at the Hotel Adlon! I demur facially—if not otherwise. I even shake my head, if I recall aright. In any case most certainly I should not go to Russia now. Rather I should stay here and enter a sanitarium where I could be observed. After that— a month or two or three, I might return to America—never to Russia. My condition will not permit it.

“Is that so”, I think. Actually I say “Gentlemen, this is all very interesting but too sudden. It comes on me too quickly. But first let me tell you I am not going into any sanitarium and I am going into Russia. My condition may be very bad but I do not happen to be afraid of death”

“Ah—but we do not predict death. No, no. Do not misunderstand us. It is not so bad as that. But you are very sick. Your condition is dangerous. Perhaps—there are other physicians. Would you like us to give you the address of another physician—perhaps call one up for you?” “No. No. I will not go to any physician but one whom I select for myself—through friends of mine. Next, if what you say should prove true I would not go into a sanitarium but would return to the United States. Even if I did enter one here, it would be one of my own personal selection.” And I look at them. “Very good! Very good! It is as you wish”—but I see just the same that it is not so good. There is more talk. The pictures of the lungs are brought. “I can see for myself.” But I cannot see for myself, I insist. I cannot possibly read these things with the skill which they do. Since they are so anxious I will do one thing. They may each write a letter explaining what is wrong with me. Next give me a copy of the X ray. Armed so, I will look up a physician and if he agrees I will let them know. If not—this particular case & connection is terminated. Is that satisfactory?

They are compelled to agree that it is. Two letters are dictated. The picture is to be sent to the hotel. I depart carrying the letters—and— such is human fallibility, wondering if there is anything wrong with me. I have been feeling pretty good—a little short of breath in the last year—but nevertheless—come what may, they are out. I do not like their way. And so now the bill. Remember the X ray was to have been $12⁰⁰ but now it is twenty. And my young doctor calmly states that his is 100 marks ($25⁰⁰) for two visits. I pay—and learn afterward that both fees are high for two such young doctors in Berlin—that ordinarily Boenheim gets no more than $5⁰⁰ per call, if so much. 10 marks per visit should have been enough.

And so to the hotel. As I arrive, the bell “Klingles” and it is Lewis. Can I come to dinner with himself and Dorothy Thompson? I cannot. I have one with Herr Carl Federu. Well, how about tea? I begin to ask about physicians; tell him the situation. He gets very much interested. Says he does not know but will find out. Why not come over & talk things over. I agree and taxi to the Hercules Hotel—13 Kaiser Freiderich Wilhelm Strasse. He has a very large room in an old German Hotel. I state my case. He says just what he did before. At 6³⁰ I leave & hurry back only to find Federu. He has come with an Elsa Kaigel who is nonetheless American bom & talks perfect English. She has lived in Russia. With him & her I go to Huttes restaurant in the Potsdammer Platz—or near it—a resort as I judge of semi-artistic—semi-literary—semi-theatrical grandees of Berlin. And presently Mrs. Federu—a sympathetic & pleasant woman. And the director of the Elizabeth Duncan School here in Berlin. Also his star pupil—a thin, determined & assertive looking girl. But ah, she is marvellous! marvellous! There has just been a dancing afternoon somewhere. And there Herr Joseph [unreadable] of Munich—a critic, a humorist—and I know not what else. We sit and dine. There are two kinds of wine. And delightful omelettes confiture.⁶⁰ I stay as long as I can—until about 11 & then pay the bill & excuse myself. I am not feeling any too good. On the way I am seized with homesickness. Here I am—nearly 4000 miles from NY. 9 or ten days at the shortest. And I am ill—maybe seriously. Supposing I were seriously ill—to die. And Helen so far away. And I have been so bad to her. I grow wretched and send a twenty word cable. If only she were here. And for hours in bed I feel like an orphan—like a cast-away in a small boat.

Berlin, Sunday Oct 30- 1927- Hotel Adlon

It is a bright morning & I feel a little better but not so much. Decide to breakfast in the hotel. I also get the N.Y. Tribune and read about Russia—the tricks of the Bolsheviks. Positively this Russian goverment mystery grows by leaps and bounds. Here I am, say—a thousand miles from the border, & all is still mystery. The peasents are starving & they are not starving. They favor the existing goverment & they do not. Moscow is a cold, unsanitary, albeit attractive city—and its climate is really no worse than that of Berlin. The water is unfit to drink—all water in Russia is— and one may get typhus, and Moscow has positively the best drinking water in the world. The Soviet leaders are liars & tricksters and they are not. They are able to borrow all the money they need & they are not. Leningrad is a cold, abandoned, malarial city and it is a grand place—like Amsterdam or Venice & with beautiful western buildings, yet the same still touched by Oriental imagination. One can live in a hotel in Moscow or Leningrad as well as one can live in New York or Berlin and one cannot! Positively I give up. There is no getting head nor tale of this thing. I can get the names of any number of people to whom to go for information. Last night at dinner Elsa Riegle—50 & agressive but still good looking and a born observer & even statistician, directed us to look up the Quaker Center in Moscow. There one might hope to get the truth, for they have workers all over Russia who speak English & who are constantly coming & going. The address is Boris Oglebsky, Perelook 15 and a Miss Annie Haines of Haverford, Pa is in charge. It would be well to write her before hand and tell her I am coming—and ask for a room. But the Soviets are supposed to look after me. Ah, but I should get where correct information will be flowing as a spring. Any how here is a good tip. I am to take all my dollar cash—some $1700 in all by the way, & buy Roubles in Berlin. Someone has just written that we can only get 2 roubles 90 kopeks for a dollar in Moscow—whereas here in Berlin, now—one can get 4 to 4— roubles per dollar. I decide to so advantage myself at the market—forthwith. But this being Sunday, I speculate on all I have heard & decided to finish an article for the Metropolitan Syndicate—and do.⁶¹ Meanwhile comes Bruno Meisels—a german critic. He wants me to come to dinner. I accept. As I do so, Lewis calls up. He has found out just the physician. It is Prof. Dr. C. R. Schlayer, chief visiting physician of the Augusta Maria Hospital. He gives me the address. Since it is so important I call up Schlayer and he asks me to come at once. He proves to be one of those really careful thinking Germans on whom one can rely—tall, blond, serious. Speaks English with a “ziss” and “zat”. I show him the letters of my two doctors and the X ray. They make him serious but he makes an examination of his own. Asks after all symptoms. I tell my past. He decides at once that there is nothing wrong with my heart—or circulation. Next he examines the urine. Nothing wrong there. Finally he says that if I will come to the Augusta Maria Hospital he will make a test of blood & sputum. But he fears the Russian climate for me. Should I go? Had I better not return to America & come back in the summer? I decide to go to Russia but do not argue with him. Return to hotel and find Miesels. We discuss Berlin and a place to eat. It eventually becomes the Bedjerre—(a court dancer). Before that he calls up his wife and several people who are to act as translators. But we are getting along very well. And so another German evening—this time with young German writers. I could describe them but they do not appeal to me very much. Meisels wife is charming & he is always interesting but not so dreadfully deep. In the Bedjerre there are 10 girls frankly for hire. But not one appeals to me. We have cognac, two bottles of wine & steaks. The cost is 35 marks —practically $9⁰⁰. More talk of Germany. Literature is not much. The American movies are still the best. I am always impressed by the low state of European taste which accepts this as true. At eleven to a German Coffee House with more artistes and writers. Where do they all come from. I meet an exceedingly intelligent German who has been in Russia. He tells of the vast extent—1/6^th of the earth; the differences in climate; Tiflis in the Caucasus—like the Riviera; Odessa—warm like perhaps Texas. There are 61 different countries—or types. They govern themselves, but subscribe to the communist idea & use the Soviet mechanism to arrive at leadership & direction. He likes Moscow—very much, a beautiful city—but Leningrad is even more interesting, a city built by the Czars to escape, as he seemed to think, the purely Asiatic influence, strongly felt at Moscow; the buildings are western. It is laid out more systematically than Moscow. But it is very damp and therefore very cold in winter. One must be warmly dressed. No place for a person with lung trouble . . . . . Again the water everywhere in Russia is bad. One must not drink it. Typhus. But living is tolerable; the food good. One must enjoy its differences—not its comforts . . . . . . . Then he turns to American literature. Finds it interesting from a discriptive point of view; nothing from a psychologic or spiritual side. He is thinking of the writers of the last 20 years. I agree.

*

The Russians have suffered the most from tyranny & misgoverment & so they have swung furtherest toward liberty.

Berlin, Monday, Oct 31-1927- Hotel Adlon

There are so many things about the Germans that interest me.

Augusta-Maria Hospital—to [unreadable word]. With Windmuller for breakfast, a general gloom. Drugs. I talk of MS and writing. Edward Fitzgerald calls on phone—then comes to get ms—which I edit before giving it him. Lewis calls on phone. Also Secy of Am Embassy. Federu calls to know if I can come out Tuesday night. Frau Feuchtwanger is to be there. I finally settle down & write until 11 PM. Then to a nearby restaurant for an omellette with cognac & to bed. The restaurant reminds me of old St. Louis restaurants.

Tuesday Nov 1 — Write till noon. Windmuller tells me of negro & his adventures. I go for shoes & get them. Then to hotel. Fitzgerald comes, [unreadable name]. The correspondent of the London Post. Most of Russia, Europe. Fitzgerald proves most interesting. We ride out to Federus. Lost! That evening. Hotel. I revise ms. To bed. Dr. Schlayer phones to say I am OK.

Berlin Wed. Nov. 2 - 1927- Hotel Adlon

Raining. No word of going. Sinclair Lewis calls. Tells of Harris in hotel. Also Hauptmann. I go to see Harris. Then buy 200 in roubles. No word of going. Go to Workers Bdg. No [unreadable words] to be had. I telephone Am. Embassy. They get me one. Frau Feuchtwanger! Neuse calls. I pay bill To station with Neuse. Flowers. Communists. Off in a compartment.

Thursday Nov 3-1927- En Route to Russia

The Polish plains. Like Kansas. Like Czecho Slavakia. My next door traveller. Grass covered houses. The heavy sort. Warsaw. I dont like it. Nor Poles either. Breakfast my French comrade. An artist should do well with the Polish countryside. It has a “feel”. One can understand a Chopin, a Sienkiewicz, a Paderewski growing out of.⁶² These long levels of green grass or black soil, bordered by black firs. The endless silver birches; the charming if—(perhaps)—unsanitary farm houses or hovels with their green sod roofs. The wide flat marshes—rivers & lakes. The rounded, sturdy girls & women & the stodgy & yet somehow picturesque men. An ideal land for a temperament such as Turgenev to contemplate. Hay cocks; hay covered shelters or bins And now—here & there good white stucco one story houses & fair roads⁶³ . . . . . . . Bialystok. Ice on the ground. Many new bldgs. The swaggering officers & policeman in apparently warm & comfortable uniforms swaggering here and there—mere ragbags of conventions, notions and sex. And a girl or two in smart clothes, silk stockings & slippers and heavy, many skirted peasants women with bundles & cheap bags. The roads are mostly mud & very bad. Judging by what I see the whole world is trying to catch up on the housing problem—Poland among others. Beyond Bialystok—snow—the 1^st I have seen this year. These little groups of grass or mud thatched houses—huddled so closely together—on these great plains—and at such long intervals. Forrests—open spaces, flat, dreary rivers, more forrests & then some where one of these. But how lonely. Not a soul in sight. A horse, maybe a cow or two. A few rooting pigs. Perhaps within huddled about a fire in this cold are the laborers with their closely woven loves hates ambitions, —and mostly of the soil. And these far, far off cities,—Berlin, Paris, London. And the integrated, intense life of them— millions and millions of swarming and equally meaningless—if not more so—souls, but not lonely. Even in train as I pass I shiver. I am cold with loneliness of country life—their life here. I am glad I am going by Walkowysk—a white station, as usual Why do the Poles & Czechs love white stations? Nearly all the houses are new, long & yellow—harboring perhaps two or three families. Somehow it all reminds of Missouri, Iowa, Kansas . . . . . . These very little wagons with horses. Well, the horses will never die of hard work . . . . . . Clouds of crows flying over the snow. I think of the retreat from Moscow . . . [unreadable word]. A long procession of farm wagons returning from the fields at dusk—hundreds of them. For the first time I see the Troika—and sense the reality which the Russian novelists have pictured.⁶⁴ Yet this is Poland. Tea & cake offered at 5 PM. More new stations. At supper—close to the Russian frontier. Dining car refuses Russian money. Marks, zlotty, dollars—yes.⁶⁵ But no roubles. We arrive at . The border. A fine Polish station. Many police & soldiers. Another hour lost here. Then accross the line into Russia Negoreljove. It is night now. More soldiers & passport agents. One senses a change at once. Something softer—more emotional, less iron. It is made clear to me that I change cars here. The “dear comrade”. My bags are passed. I am taken into what appears to be a depot reception hall as a delegate. The band. The speeches. The replies. We are given food. Mr. Gee of Chicago—a Chinese delegate from Chicago—who knows of me. Mr. Leo of San Francisco (Leland Stanford) who also knows of me). Both speak German. Afterwards we are escorted to the train by the band & I am put in the same compartment with Mr. “Gee”. He says: “I did not expect so much as this on this earth”. More speeches—this time by delegates—including Mr. Leo—from the train, but in German. Also against Das Kapitalisms. I leave my bags. A telegram from Moscow transfers me to a private compartment. 12 PM. before my bed is made The filthy french comrade next door.

1. The incomplete quotation is likely from John Ruskin, The Crown of Wild Olive (Lecture 2): “Life without industry is guilt; industry without art is brutality.” The slogan was adapted for early Soviet propaganda; Dreiser apparently saw it, in Russian, on a banner. It would have been translated for him approximately as he has it here. On the verso of a letter sent to Dreiser in Moscow by Otto Kyllmann of Constable and Company, Dreiser’s British publisher, the following is written in pencil in an unidentified hand: “Life without labor is robbery, / Labor without art is barbarity.”

2. Arthur Pell was treasurer of Boni & Liveright, Dreiser’s publisher at the time.

3. In the early years of the Soviet regime, the system of collective farming did not function efficiently. The famine to which Dreiser refers caused despair and starvation during the winter of 1920, especially in the Volga River region, and brought about major agricultural reforms.

4. Helen Patges Richardson, Dreiser’s distant cousin with whom he began a relationship in New York in September 1919 and who eventually became his second wife.

5. Dreiser’s country retreat at Mt. Kisco was called Iroki (Japanese for “beauty”). It was designed primarily by his friend Ralph Fabri. A painting by Fabri of Helen with Nick, the Russian wolfhound, hangs in the Special Collections Department of the Van Pelt-Dietrich Library Center; it is reproduced in Helen’s My Life with Dreiser (Cleveland and New York: World, 1951), preceding 249.

6. A page has been removed from the diary at this point, between leaves 20 and 21 of the original document. See Editorial Principles, pp. 21–22.

7. B_____ is unidentified.

8. In 1926 Dreiser had moved to an apartment in the Rodin Studios building at 200 West 57th Street.

9. Brandt & Brandt, a prominent literary agency in New York that handled some of Dreiser’s work.

10. George Bye, a literary agent through whom Dreiser sometimes placed articles.

11. Max Elser, an editor at the Metropolitan Syndicate in New York, which distributed articles to various newspapers and magazines throughout the country.

12. Otto Kyllmann, director of the London firm of Constable, Dreiser’s British publisher at the time. For The Road to Buenos Ayres, see note 33.

13. James G. Robin, businessman and playwright who began a friendship with Dreiser in 1908. The central character in “‘Vanity, Vanity,’ Saith the Preacher” in Twelve Men is modeled after Robin. Dreiser supplied the introduction for Robin’s verse tragedy Caius Gracchus, which Robin published under the pen name Odin Gregory in 1920.

14. “Relia” is one of the sketches in Dreiser’s A Gallery of Women (1929); the character of Relia is based on Rose White, sister of Dreiser’s first wife, Sara White Dreiser. See Yoshinobu Hakutani, “Dreiser and Rose White,” Library Chronicle 44(Spring 1979):27–31.

15. The Mauretania was an early twentieth-century Cunard liner, the sister ship of the Lusitania.

16. Esther McCoy performed research and editorial chores for Dreiser during this period and later in California; Louise Campbell did similar duties for Dreiser, especially on An American Tragedy. Ch___ is unidentified.

17. Boni & Liveright, Dreiser’s American publishers, headed then by Horace Liveright.

18. Bennett Cerf, publisher and cofounder of the firm of Random House. Cerf first encountered Dreiser in the early 1920s at Boni & Liveright, where Cerf was a junior partner. In 1925 Cerf purchased the Modern Library reprint line from Horace Liveright and made it into the financial cornerstone of Random House. Both Sister Carrie and Twelve Men were reprinted in Modern Library editions.

19. Dreiser kept an office at 1819 Broadway, where he wrote and played.

20. Maud Karola first wrote Dreiser in February 1924; shortly after that she became an intimate friend. Ruth is unidentified.

21. Ernest Boyd and his wife Madeleine, who was French. Boyd, an Irish-born diplomat, writer, and journalist, was a frequent contributor to the American Mercury, the Bookman, and Harper’s. He was a close friend of H. L. Mencken during the 1920s and 1930s.

22. The article by Alexander Harvey in the World could not be traced; Boyd’s article on “T.R.” [Theodore Roosevelt?] apparently remained unpublished.

23. See, for example, “Dreiser Sails Tonight for Red Celebration,” New York Times, 19 October 1927, sect. 3, p. 4.

24. Sam Schwartz was the owner of Schwartz’s, a popular restaurant on MacDougal Street.

25. John Cowper Powys (1872–1963), Welsh writer and lecturer. Powys was one of Dreiser’s most active supporters during the controversy over the suppression of The “Genius” (1915).

26. The guests are writers, artists, and activists of leftist leanings. The more important of them are identified as follows: W. W. Woodward is likely William E. Woodward, businessman, novelist, and historian; Helen worked for Woodward when she first arrived in New York in his capacity as publicity director of the Industrial Finance Co. Joseph Freeman, a young American Communist, had worked for a time in Moscow; his best-known book is The Soviet Worker (1932). Diego Rivera (1886–1957), Mexican painter famous for murals that reflected his Marxist ideology. Joseph Wood Krutch, journalist and critic whose reviews of Dreiser’s books had appeared in the New York Evening Post and the Nation. Floyd Dell (1887–1969), novelist, editor, playwright, and journalist; Dell, a socialist, was active in Chicago literary circles during the first decade of the century; in 1913 he moved to Greenwich Village, wrote scripts for the Provincetown Players, and helped edit Masses. Carl Brandt of Brandt & Brandt, literary agents. Ernestine Evans, art critic with a special interest in the work of Diego Rivera.

27. Konrad Bercovici, Romanian-born author of fiction, drama, and history.

28. Esther McCoy; Caroline is unidentified.

29. B. W. Huebsch, publisher and bookman, who issued the work of Anderson, Joyce, Lawrence, Gorky, Strindberg, Chekhov, and other important writers during his most successful years (1902–25). Later he merged his list with Viking Press and became an executive of that firm.

30. Joseph Anthony, a journalist who worked for the Hearst newspapers.

31. Mr. and Mrs. Morris L. Ernst; he was an attorney with leftist sympathies.

32. Heywood Broun, columnist and member of the Round Table at the Algonquin Hotel.

33. Dreiser was reading bound proofs of the Constable edition of Albert Londres’ book The Road to Buenos Ayres; these proofs survive in Dreiser’s library at the University of Pennsylvania. The Road to Buenos Ayres was a study of prostitution and the “white slave trade” between France and Argentina. Dreiser wrote an introduction for the Constable edition, which appeared in 1928 (translated from the French by Eric Sutton). For the introduction, see “Dreiser and The Road to Buenos Ayres,” Dreiser Studies 25 (2): 3–22, 1994.

34. Albert Michelson (1852–1931), German-born U.S. physicist who established the speed of light and won the 1907 Nobel Prize for physics. His experiments laid the basis for Einstein’s theory of relativity.

35. Norman Douglas’s popular novel South Wind (1917). Dreiser mentions the book in his introduction to The Road to Buenos Ayres (see note 33).

36. Cherbourg is a French commercial and military port on the English Channel, some eighty miles northwest of Havre.

37. A lighter is a flat-bottomed barge used in transporting passengers and cargo between larger vessels and the shore.

38. Perhaps Dreiser is referring to Dubonnet, the trademark name of a cheap, sweet wine, presumably being consumed here by the beggars.

39. “Theodore Dreiser Here on Way to Study Results of Sovietism,” New York Herald Tribune, Paris edn., 27 October 1927, pp. 1, 10.

40. Dreiser went to the Tavern de l’Opera, a restaurant known for its Munich beer.

41. The Church of Saint Mary Magdalene on the rue Royale is often referred to as Madeleine. This church, one of the best known in Paris, is built in the style of a Graeco-Roman temple.

42. The Dome was a well-known expatriate watering hole in Montparnasse.

43. Dreiser refers to the Luxembourg Gardens, the popular Left Bank park.

44. Dreiser means Louis IX (Saint Louis), during whose reign (1226–70) the chapel to which he refers was erected. The chapel is a part of the Palais de Justice.

45. Wagon lits are railway sleeping cars.

46. Victor Llona had translated An American Tragedy into French; he recalled this meeting in “Sightseeing in Paris with Theodore Dreiser,” ed. Ernest and Margaret Kroll, Yale Review 76(June 1987):374–79. Llona also translated other important works of American literature into French, for example, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby.

47. Ludwig Lewisohn (1883–1955), author, editor, teacher, and critic. Lewisohn wrote of Dreiser in his book Expression in America (1932) and in his autobiographical writings; he also based the character of Blaffka in his novel Don Juan (1923) on Dreiser.

48. Dreiser is referring here to famous murderers and lunatics. In June 1906 the eccentrie and wealthy socialite Harry Kendall Thaw killed the architect Stanford White in a dispute over Thaw’s wife, Evelyn Nesbit, formerly a member of the Floradora Sextette and, at an earlier time, White’s mistress. Frederick B. Deeming was a con man and mass murderer in England and Australia who killed two wives and four of his own children before being convicted and hanged in May 1892. Ludwig II of Bavaria, known as the Mad King, was a patron of Richard Wagner and a morbid introvert best remembered for building extravagant and fanciful palaces. He drowned himself in June 1886.

49. Hanover is a Prussian city, the capital of the German province of the same name; it is on the Elbe, some eighty miles southwest of Hamburg.

50. The Adlon was one of the best Berlin hotels; it was located on Unter den Linden near the Friedrichstrasse railway station.

51. Alexander Berkman (1870–1936), Russian anarchist and radical labor leader. During the Homestead Strike of 1892 he attempted to murder the capitalist Henry Clay Frick; he served fourteen years in prison for the deed. He and Emma Goldman (1869–1940), also a well-known radical activist, opposed U.S. entry into World War I; both were arrested, imprisoned, and deported to Russia in 1919 for their pacifist activities. They became disillusioned with the Soviet Union and left in 1921.

52. By the “Twelve Commandments,” Dreiser means the original Ten Commandments, given by Moses to the Israelites and recorded in Exodus 20:3–17; and two additional commandments, that one love God and love one’s neighbor as oneself, which are found in Matthew 23:37–40.

53. This is the Admirals-Bad, a Russian-Turkish public bath near the Friedrichstrasse station.

54. Dreiser wrote eleven articles about his trip to Russia for the New York World; three other articles for 1928 issues of Hearst’s International-Cosmopolitan became sections of A Gallery of Women: “Rella” (April), “Olive Brand” (May), and “Regina C_________” (June).

55. The Berlin Independent Democratic newspaper 8-Uhr Abendblat (Eighth-Hour Evening Sheet).

56. On 7 October, Herman George Scheffauer, a writer from San Francisco who was living in Berlin, stabbed and killed his secretary, Catherine von Meyer, a Russian refugee, before committing suicide by stabbing himself, slitting his wrists and throat, and throwing himself from a fourth-story window. See “Scheffauer Kills Girl and Himself,” New York Times, 8 October 1927, p. 4.

57. Dorothy Thompson (1893–1961), writer and journalist, who would marry Sinclair Lewis in May 1928. Thompson would accuse Dreiser of plagiarizing her book The New Russia (1928) for his Dreiser Looks at Russia.

58. Marta Loeffler Feuchtwanger, the wife of Lion Feuchtwanger (1884–1958), a German Jewish novelist and playwright. His historical novel Jud Süss (1925), translated into English and published in the United States as Power, was a best-seller for Viking Press in 1926. The Feuchtwangers were friendly with Sinclair Lewis and Dorothy Thompson (see above, note 57). Thompson translated Feuchtwanger’s satirical ballads about a booster businessman into English and had them published as PEP: J. L. Wetcheek’s American Songbook (New York: Viking, 1929). Feuchtwanger’s other success in America was the novel Josephus (1932).

59. Dreiser means the “extra man,” Dr. Ostwald, mentioned several lines earlier.

60. An omelette confiture is a plain French omelet, filled with jam or marmalade, rolled and sprinkled with sugar.

61. Probably “Dreiser on Matrimonial Hoboes,” New York American, 11 March 1928, E4.

62. Dreiser refers here to three famous Polish artists: Frederic Chopin (1810–49), composer and pianist; Henryk Sienkiewicz (1846–1916), novelist who wrote Quo Vadis? (1896) and won the 1905 Nobel Prize for literature; and Jan Paderewski (1860–1941), pianist and composer who was briefly prime minister of Poland in 1919.

63. Dreiser drew a small picture here in the text to show the shape of a typical one of these houses.

64. The troika is the familiar Russian sleigh drawn by three horses abreast.

65. Zlotty (zloty): the basic monetary unit of Poland.