EARLY TO MID-DECEMBER -- PART 2
ROCKWELL KENT WILDERNESS CENTENNIAL JOURNAL
100 YEARS LATER
by Doug Capra © 2018
Early to Mid-December 2018 – Part 2
MORE THOUGHTS ABOUT THE KENT ALASKA
LETTERS
From Early to Mid-December 1918
In early December Kent tells Kathleen that he has ended the
affair with Hildegarde. He’s written to Hildegarde telling her the same. On one level, his letters now try to convince his wife that he
is a new man. He has changed. He now appreciates the sacrifices Kathleen has
made and regrets the suffering he has caused her. He agrees with her – that
they need to wipe away the past and start from the beginning to save their
marriage. That includes eliminating Hildegarde, which he has agreed to do. He
misses Kathleen deeply and says he never wants them this far apart again.
Pen and ink from Wilderness
His language sometimes becomes erotic, as he writes on Dec. 10th:
“I’ll tickle you where you love it and
shake your legs. Heavens, the thought of your flesh makes me frantic. I never
loved you as I do now and I never appreciated you before as I do now after all
the glorious sacrifices you’ve made for me, the bitter, bitter suffering you’ve
had. Kathleen, I could not do what you have done. I’ll never away from you.” As
Kent writes like this, he’s operating on emotions, not reason. He totally
believes what he’s saying, in my opinion. When reason kicks in, he knows he’s
weak and admits it, even to Kathleen. But he is a romantic idealist and has set
his goals on perfection for both himself and his wife. Kathleen represents the
romantic ideal of woman and motherhood to him – completely faithful, pure, and
wholesome -- a role she can never live up to.
Pen and ink from Wilderness
Kent is fixated on their correspondence. Several times he urges Kathleen to reread every one of his letters from Alaska, study them line by line,
and answer all his questions. On Dec. 11th he writes: “Darling. Let’s wipe out all the past and begin once
again. Let us have no reminders of the unhappy days. I at least will have no
(heavy?) ones. I will sever myself utterly from everything that has ever given
you unhappiness. And I propose that together we go over our boxes of letters
and if we find any letters from others but ourselves {throw} away these --
except our proper friends – we’ll burn them joyfully. Then we’ll begin and read
all of our letters aloud from the very beginning.”
As I’ve stated before, we have Kent’s letters to Hildegarde. She
saved them and after she died her nephew inherited them. They were sold at
auction and later donated to the archives at Columbia University. We don’t have
Hildegarde’s letters to Kent. What happened to them? The quote above contains a
clue. My guess is – and I have no evidence as of yet – is that when Kent got
back from Alaska, he initially strove to show Kathleen he was a changed man and
made a serious attempt to honor all he had promised in the Alaska letters. Their
marriage may have started to improve – between that spring of 1919 when he
returned from Alaska and 1920-21 with his success and rising fame. He had
wanted to escape the city and move away from the crowds – and the Vermont home
near Arlington that he called Egypt fulfilled that desire. But soon he was off
again on another adventure to Tierra del Fuego and other affairs soon followed.
But during those placid days in Vermont, Kathleen may have taken him at his
word and he may have agreed to destroy Hildegarde’s letters to him. Even the
furniture Kathleen and Hildegarde had fought over – the chair and the andiron –
bothered Kent. In that Dec. 11th letter to Kathleen from Fox Island, Kent wrote: “By the way – if you do get any furniture that was in
the studio I’ll pitch it out of doors when I return. I hate it – and so shall
you.” He seemed intent on ridding every memory of Hildegarde from his marriage. Kent’s letters to Kathleen are written on several levels. He
tells stories about Rockie, he describes his trips to Seward, he talks about
Olson, and he narrates his pioneering exploits. Rarely does he discuss his art,
but in a Dec. 8th letter he goes into detail:
“Now! We have before us views across the water at the
mountains, a gray day with a stormy sea, in the foreground driftwood and the
prow of a wrecked dory – and a woman finds it – horror stricken. A blue sunlit
day with the mountains sharp and clear. A picture of our cove with the sun
setting straight in the middle and reflected in a broad glare right at my feet.
A little cabin is in this picture and there will be people and whales. A
strange picture of a midsummer night toward dawn, a stark naked beautiful young
man lies sleeping in a roofless, half constructed cabin, and beyond are the
mountains, the deep blue water and the glowing sky. A picture called “To God!”
A naked man stands straight up in the picture, at his right hand, falling the
full picture height & more, a waterfall; in his left hand is a goblet of
sparkling water that he holds aloft against the profound black sky. All about
the figure is an aura of light. Otters play at his feet, and beyond is the dark
sea and a mountainous land. A picture of father and son – like the drawing I’ll
send you.
A realistic picture of our cabin with the
trees about it, the wood pile and the distant mountains and the same figure of
father and son in the picture. An afternoon view across our bay with the goats
in the foreground and the stump of a tree – huge and grotesque. And “Superman”,
a glorious figure striding with giant steps over the mountain tops reaching
upward to embrace all space. About him are the stars and beautiful, many
colored lights. On the dark mountainous land beneath him men are living as they
do today with slaughter and the burning of homes. These pictures of which I
have told you are done within reach of final completion. I may not – I probably
shall not finish them here.”
There is yet another level to Kent’s letters to Kathleen – a
very disturbing one. On Dec. 10th he writes: “God what a letter I have just written to you! Pages
and pages of tragedy. Don’t let me do it anymore. I’ve destroyed the letter –
or will in a few minutes. Listen darling – if you write me unkindly again, if
you fail me in your love, I’ll wire to you to come. Then you must come,
if it cost every cent we have – or send me $300.- and I’ll leave here at
once with Rockwell, bring him to you -- and go. There’s my tragedy! But my
darling I mean this. Be careful what you write to me. Let no one, for any
cause, rob you of your leisure to write every day faithfully to me. Too much
hangs upon it. So far Alaska has been a tragic experience to me.”
Kathleen’s friends, like Bernice and Billy, are "robbing" Kathleen
of her leisure by taking her to Broadway shows and parties. Kent reasons that
if she has time for that kind of entertainment she certainly can spend a week
rereading all his letters and respond in detail. Kent believes he is fulfilling
his role in their relationship by struggling in exile on an Alaska island,
lonely, despondent and depressed – missing his wife and children – while trying
to produce the art that will finally raise them all up from poverty. Kathleen
should be fulfilling her role, too – which is to make sure he is happy and
encouraged. On Dec. 11th he writes: “Darling
when you make me happy you’ll discover a different Rockwell, one you’ll love as
much for his good spirits as for his – oh, I don’t know what it is you love me
for. Meanwhile I’ll plug along here and do my best for…us all. This is our
venture, yours and mine, to-gether we paint our picture…Alone I should fail
completely.” Kent has his role in this Alaska enterprise and Kathleen has hers.
And she is failing in her responsibilities in making him happy.
Earlier Kathleen wrote to Kent of a dream of hers – Kent has
returned from Alaska and the first thing he does is go to the opera with
Hildegarde. Kathleen immediately consults a lawyer for a divorce. Kent relates
many of his disturbing dreams to her. Early on Dec. 11th he writes:
“It is before breakfast. I write by lamp
light. Oh what a sad night I’ve had. For many hours I’ve lain awake, dreaming
awake living terrible scenes in full consciousness of them.” His dream: Kathleen has a
brutal and filthy affair with an adulteress. “If I have sinned mother I have
never in my most degraded moment lowered myself to the (crassness?) of that
beast’s loftiest thought,” he confesses. This dream is followed by a waking
nightmare: “One day you came to me and drew me by the hand into our living
room, closed the door and we were alone. “I am leaving you very soon now,
Rockwell. I am young and I shall go into the world alone to begin again. I
shall hope for another family of children. These {children} I leave for you.” With what a
breaking heart you said this and what a sublime sacrifice it was. But it was
not to end in that way. Before the time of your going came I had put my affairs
in order, written letters to all my friends and long long loving ones to you
and the children – and shot myself. It was for me the natural thing to do. I
thought of it calmly and I can write of it calmly to you and make you a promise
faithfully upon my honor and my love for you. That when the time comes for it I
will die calmly for you.”
Nightmare, 1941, Lithograph on Stone, 10 7/8
x 8 in.
After
reading these letters, one must wonder what Kent wrote in those he destroyed.
He writes that he has burned many but admits he may have missed a few. The
one’s quoted above may be among some he wished to toss. They lead us into
the hidden chamber occupied by Kent’s demons.
Almost always, Kent ends his
letters no matter how disturbing, professing his love for Kathleen. One of the
Dec. 11th letters, ends with an especially revealing signature – “ And now my own loving, beautiful and
sweet Kathleen – ten million kisses and an age long hug and a goodnight that
shall but open the doors of dreamland when we’ll lie the night long together.
God bless my darling wife. Her reformed old husband, the great I. A M”
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