Definite dates do not mark her various modes into periods as they do those of Picasso. Her very latest books, Wars I Have Seen and Brewsie and Willie, are not written in perplexing prose. I have, I think, included a sample of most of the forms in which she has worked. Not only the famous Four Saints, but also two other plays from an earlier period are to be discovered herein. Examples of her poetry, of her lectures, and essays may be examined in these pages. Lack of space has prevented me from including either of her novels, Ida or Lucy Church Amiably. Miss Furr and Miss Skeene and Melanctha, however, give sufficient indication of her talent for fiction. Of her two books for children, The World Is Round and the unpublished (except in French translation) First Reader, nothing is offered either. On the other hand, every element of her so-called “difficult” manner is represented together with two essays attempting to explain this manner and, of course, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas explains pretty nearly everything to everybody. Dear Gertrude, may I do a little caressing myself and say truthfully A Collection is a Collection is a Collection?

CARL VAN VECHTEN

New York, April 11, 1946

My introduction to this volume was written, and sent to the printer, a little over three months before Gertrude Stein’s death in Paris, July 27, 1946, but I feel that it is wiser, for both sentimental and practical reasons, to let it stand unchanged.

C.V.V.

   THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY   

   OF ALICE B. TOKLAS   

Written in 1932, published by Harcourt Brace and Co., in 1933. An abridged version had appeared previously in the ATLANTIC MONTHLY. In EVERYBODY’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY Gertrude Stein wrote: “Well anyway it was a beautiful autumn in Bilignin and in six weeks I wrote THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ALICE B. TOKLAS and it was published and it became a best seller.… I bought myself a new eight-cylinder Ford car and the most expensive coat made to order by Hermes and fitted by the man who makes horse covers for race horses for Basket the white poodle and two collars studded for Basket. I had never made any money before in my life and I was most excited.”

1

Before I Came to Paris

I was born in San Francisco, California. I have in consequence always preferred living in a temperate climate but it is difficult, on the continent of Europe or even in America, to find a temperate climate and live in it. My mother’s father was a pioneer, he came to California in ’49, he married my grandmother who was very fond of music. She was a pupil of Clara Schumann’s father. My mother was a quiet charming woman named Emilie.

My father came of polish patriotic stock. His grand-uncle raised a regiment for Napoleon and was its colonel. His father left his mother just after their marriage, to fight at the barricades in Paris, but his wife having cut off his supplies, he soon returned and led the life of a conservative well to do land owner.

I myself have had no liking for violence and have always enjoyed the pleasures of needlework and gardening. I am fond of paintings, furniture, tapestry, houses and flowers and even vegetables and fruit-trees. I like a view but I like to sit with my back turned to it.

I led in my childhood and youth the gently bred existence of my class and kind. I had some intellectual adventures at this period but very quiet ones. When I was about nineteen years of age I was a great admirer of Henry James. I felt that The Awkward Age would make a very remarkable play and I wrote to Henry James suggesting that I dramatise it. I had from him a delightful letter on the subject and then, when I felt my inadequacy, rather blushed for myself and did not keep the letter. Perhaps at that time I did not feel that I was justified in preserving it, at any rate it no longer exists.

Up to my twentieth year I was seriously interested in music. I studied and practised assiduously but shortly then it seemed futile, my mother had died and there was no unconquerable sadness, but there was no real interest that led me on.