Tag Archives: childhood

“Wherever we are it is but a stage on the way to somewhere else”

Posted on May 14, 2022 by mafalda

[As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Colvin; for full, correct and critical edition of this letter see Mehew 7, 2447.] To Adelaide Boodle (continued) [Colvin 1912, pp. 287-91] [Vailima Plantation, Samoan Islands, August 14th, 1892] Here … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson, Senza categoria | Tagged Adelaide Road, Austin, beach, birds, Boodle, bridge, cab, cart-horses, cellar, Charing Cross, childhood, children, Chinese, commissions, dandy, dictation, Edinburgh, eels, Europe, Fanny, Fanny's garden, fish, gamekeeper, health, kilts, King of France, King's palace, Lions, little girls, London, memories, mob, nutmegs, oaks, oranges, parrots, prawns, Robert Louis Stevenson, Samoa, Samoans, Savaii, scrivener's cramp, streams, Surrey gipsy, sward, Tapu a fafine, trees, Upolu, Vailima, walk, women, woods, work-boys | Leave a comment

“I have called the one person myself, and the other the other fellow”

Posted on March 12, 2022 by mafalda

This letter comes to us from F.W.H. Myers’s book, The Subliminal Consciousness, ‘Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research’, 1894. In 1882 Myers was one of the founders of that Society, of which RLS was a member. In 1886 he … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson, Senza categoria | Tagged aberration, anger, another part of my mind, Carroll, Chapter on Dreams, childhood, coil, consciousness, cure, double, dreamer, dreams, Dryden, experiences, Fanny, fears, fever, hallucinations, health, illness, illusion, Latin hymns, Lide of Dryden, literature, lunacy, medicine, mhn, mild, my other self, Myers, myself, navy, nerves, Nice, nonsense, other fellow, pain, Robert Louis Stevenson, Samoa, Scott, Society for Psychical Research, storm, Swift, transrational, two direnctions, Vailima, wife, wind, wisp, words | Leave a comment

“What a tongue it would be to write, if one only knew it – and there were only readers!”

Posted on November 20, 2020 by mafalda

[As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter see Mehew 7, 2295.] This is the first appearance in RLS’s letters of the Swedish Chief Justice of Samoa, Conrad … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson, Senza categoria | Tagged Apia, boat boom, bowsprit, cabin, captain, Cedarcrantz, childhood, Colvin, consuls, crank shaft, dream, drunken, eyes, faamasino sili, Fables, Fanny, Fanua, Fiji, gun, Gurr, harbour, hay, Henry, horse, Joe, La Fontaine, Lafaele, Lübeck on board, Lloyd, maintopgallant, manoeuvres, marriage, Matafele, miles, mother, natives, oarsmen, Pacific, party, pier, Pratt, riding, Robert Louis Stevenson, sails, Samoa, Samoan, Seumanu, South Seas, stampede, staysail, storm, Sydney, tongues, translation, troops, verses, warriors | Leave a comment

“… staccato, I think. Then you sail into the musette”

Posted on December 13, 2017 by mafalda

[Dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1789.] To Anne Jenkin [Colvin 1911, 2, pp. 329-331] [Skerryvore, Bournemouth, ? 7 April 1887] My dear … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Allegro, Bach, childhood, chords, copying, curiosity, dignity, dominant eleventh, Fanny, father, friends, gavotte, Gavottes Célèbres, harmony, Jenkin, keynote, life, Litolff, Lully, Martini, Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin, musette, music, periwig, piano, questions, Rameau, Rigadoon, Robert Louis Stevenson, Savile, seventh, Skerryvore, staccato, strings, Thomas Stevenson, writing | Leave a comment

“I am so well that I am afraid to speak of it, being a coward as to boasting”

Posted on July 22, 2017 by mafalda

[As usual, for correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1684.] To Alison Cunningham [Colvin 1911, 2, pp. 348-349] [Skerryvore, Bournemouth, Late August 1886] My dear Cummy, I am home from a long holiday, vastly better in … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged bedroom, Cassell’s Family Paper, childhood, Cummy, Cunningham, cupboard, doctors, Edinburgh, fanny Swedish, gift, health, Hoggs, reading, Robert Louis Stevenson, Skerryvore, stationer, wife | Leave a comment

“Don’t you remember the poisoning with mushrooms?”

Posted on June 18, 2017 by mafalda

Anticipating the gift of a cupboard from his old nurse Cummy and answering the questions set on his last letter to her. [As usual, for correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1670.] To Alison Cunningham [Colvin … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged childhood, Cummy, Cunningham, cupboard, Custaloga, Family Paper, Galpin, poisoning, Rearn, Robert Louis Stevenson, Silex, Skerryvore | Leave a comment

“I warn you, you will have to cast back your eyes a good long way, close upon thirty years”

Posted on June 4, 2017 by mafalda

RLS was always interested by his own retentiveness of memory for childish things, and here asks her old nurse, Cummy, some questions to test the quality of hers. [For correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1661.] … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Andrew Silex, Barny Gee, Carus Ream, childhood, Cummy, Cunningham, dog, Fiddler Dick, Hecky, Lady Boothroyd, Peter Mangles, Richard Markham, Robert Louis Stevenson, Simpson, Skerryvore, Smiles and Tears, Smith, Steward, vet | Leave a comment

“If only I knew any Latin!”

Posted on April 23, 2017 by mafalda

Written just before a visit to London. [As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1584.] To Sidney Colvin [Colvin 1912, pp. 213-214] [Skerryvore, … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Aeneid, age, childhood, Colvin, Didot, father, knighthood, Latin, literature, London, Monument, Robert Louis Stevenson, Sibyl, Skerryvore, Tacitus, Virgil | Leave a comment

The marks of a reader, such as one imagines for oneself in dreams, thoughtful, critical, and kind

Posted on September 25, 2016 by mafalda

An anonymous review of the Child’s Garden of Verses, appearing in the Pall Mall Gazette for March 1885, gave RLS so much pleasure that he wrote (in the four words, ‘Now who are you?’) to inquire the name of its … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged agile, amiable, Archer W., aversion, Bournemouth, Child's Garden of Verses, childhood, complain, critical, criticism, dreams, enviable, experience, fever, French, gardens, grateful, injudicious, insight, insomnia, kind, land of counterpane, life, London, memorial, nightmare, painful, poems, praise, reader, review, Robert Louis Stevenson, sober, sorrows, sufferings, thanks, Thoreau, thoughtful, verses, wonder | 2 Comments

The only person who will really understand it

Posted on September 14, 2015 by mafalda

In the course of January 1883, RLS and his wife came safely at Marseilles and Nice, Where the author’s health quickly mended. [As usual, for correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 4, 1061.] To Alison Cunningham [Colvin … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Alison Cunningham, anxiety, bad spell, book, childhood, conscious, creation, Cummy, debt, dedication, flourish, gratitude, happy, hat, ill, illustrated, lost, Marseille, mind, Nice, old boy, overwork, pretty, Robert Louis Stevenson, rogue, trouble, understand, verses, wife, winter, writing | Leave a comment

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Tag Archives: childhood

“Wherever we are it is but a stage on the way to somewhere else”

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“I have called the one person myself, and the other the other fellow”

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“What a tongue it would be to write, if one only knew it – and there were only readers!”

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“… staccato, I think. Then you sail into the musette”

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“I am so well that I am afraid to speak of it, being a coward as to boasting”

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“Don’t you remember the poisoning with mushrooms?”

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“I warn you, you will have to cast back your eyes a good long way, close upon thirty years”

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“If only I knew any Latin!”

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The marks of a reader, such as one imagines for oneself in dreams, thoughtful, critical, and kind

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The only person who will really understand it

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