we are having stanley’s mother here for thanksgiving. we will also have stanley’s brother, without wife, who is driving his mother up here, and very possibly stanley’s ancient aunt anna and uncle harry, the banes of the family; they are both in their eighties, completely crazy, and just as lively as they can be. they have no children, and spend all their time and energy keeping themselves healthy. anna and harry are quite strict, and the kids have been looking up the dietary laws in the bible, which ought to stagger harry some. it makes for an odd thanksgiving dinner. and i wish the bible would tell me how to make mashed potatoes without butter or milk.
Shirley Jackson
Letter to Geraldine Jackson
13th November 1961
(From The Letters of Shirley Jackson)
We are thinking most of Thanksgiving, than anything else just now — how full will be the circle, less then by none — how the things will smoke, how the board will groan with the thousand savory viands— how when the day is done, Lo the evening cometh, laden with merrie laugh, and happy conversation, and then the sleep and the dream each of a knight or “Ladie” — how I love to see them, a beautiful company, coming: down the hill which men call the Future, with their hearts full of joy, and their hands of gladness. Thanksgiving indeed, to a family united, once more together before they go away!
Emily Dickinson
Letter to her brother, Austin
16th November 1851
(From Letters of Emily Dickinson)
I am in a bitterly cold mountain with a boring hypochondriac socialist God I could kill him. The telegraph very sensibly refuses to accept press cables any more. I am a very bad journalist, well only a shit could be good on this particular job. We had a dinner for Thanksgiving Day given by a yank it was beastly & no wine for fear of the great sensibilities of 7th day adventist clergy. I have a lion skin coat it smells like a corpse.
Evelyn Waugh
Letter to Penelope Betjeman
November 1935
(From The Letters of Evelyn Waugh)
This still Thanksgiving afternoon fanned with the leaves of school-books and muffled with echoes is very reminiscent. It makes me remember all the times we’ve been together absolutely alone in some suspended hour, a holiday from Time prowling about in those quiet places alienated from past and future where there is no sound save listening and vision is an anesthetic.
Zelda Fitzgerald
Letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald
26th November 1931
(From Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda)
It’s Thanksgiving eve and I aint even smelt a chittlin’! True, I’m full of oxtails, sweet peas, carrots and potatoes and other goodies, but somehow a man needs to be reminded by what’s at hand of what was at hand. Fanny’s been shopping and I’ve spied what looks like an off-spring of Purdue’s eloquent nose and reminded myself that after all a turkey aint nothing but a burd. Nevertheless, I look forward to whatever she’s going to conjure up in the kitchen and plan to attack it with gusto.
Ralph Ellison
Letter to Michael Harper
24th November 1983
(From The Selected Letters of Ralph Ellison)
It’s Thanksgiving Day today, my darling, and I hope you had a merry one. What can I find to be thankful for amidst this frustration, longing and loneliness within me? Well now, let me see.
First there is the fact that I came home and that a letter awaited me—a beautiful letter from my own love telling me again of his devotion and dreams. Then, there is home itself where Mom and Pop are still alive, and where many souvenirs of happy hours spent are about me, “The Wagner Libretto,” “Shakespeare”, “The Prophet”, “Salome” the beautiful music we’ve heard so often before, the dog-house from Portland, the “Bohemian Girl”, Bebe’s smoking stand, the ring on my finger and a photograph of my radiant Yannie. Yes, Dearest, in spite of all this misery and chaos I am thankful to be alive for I love you, my love, and a beautiful future beckoning to us.
Edna Gladstone
Letter to John Golan
26th November 1942
(From Since You Went Away: World War II Letters from American Women on the Home Front)
You and your friends can stay with me when you come down for Thanksgiving. I haven’t had a real ripping orgy in quite a while. It will be weird. Be sure to call. I work only 2½ days a week, and I am POVERTY-STRICKEN. Bring food.
Hunter S. Thompson
Letter to Susan Haselden
12th November 1958
(From Proud Highway)
So interesting. Thank you for sharing this interesting compilation of letters,
Thank you so much for this reminder that families are always the same in their craziness and in their relatives, who are the banes of their existence 😂😂