Dear Sir, - I am expressively sorry that my drawings that you published in your issue for September 21 were interpreted by your delightful and heroic correspondent "Monoped Extraordinary," as caricatures of herself in particular and travesties of the one-legged fair in general. Surely, if anyone was meant to be satirised, it was those readers of "London Life," myself included, whose taste for the unusual and far-fetched finds voice in its pages! I hope she'll listen kindly to my expression of the deepest regret.
But though she says she hopes I do not misunderstand her, she makes it apparent that on more than one point. She misunderstands me! Nowhere in the letter in question - or, in any other of mine that you have been good enough to publish - have I stated that monopedes in general derive any special thrill or pleasure out of their condition alone. Surely she is confusing me with Mr. Wallace Stort, whose writings, though fiction, are based upon a substantial foundation of experience and with the many one-legged correspondents whose letters you have published during the last year or so. A noteworthy instance is "Miss Hopper," whose letter appeared in an August issue, and who on the strength of it was acclaimed by one writer as the perfect "100 per cent monopede." She undoubtedly give that impression!
My own attitude all along has been that of the male admirer, concerned only with his own reactions and those of his kind, to the object of his regard, and the letter in question most certainly contained no allusion at all to the psychology of the monopede herself.
All the same, there can be no doubt whatever but that a certain proportion of monopedes do derive a very considerable greater amount of satisfaction out of the fact that they are monopedes than anyone might suppose, and much enjoyment out of the undoubted attraction they possess for the opposite sex that guarantees them attraction far greater than they would otherwise get as normal girls. That I can testify from personal contacts.
"Monoped Extraordinary" must remember, too, the great difference between her own circumstances and those as such one-legged girls as Mr. Stort's "Julie," "Admirer of Monopedes," "Elsie," "Margaret and Doris" (the two delightful one-legged girls of last year's Summer Annual), or the girl described by "Jason" in your last week's issue. After all, her own long and terrible experience has little in common with that of the irresponsible flapper who loses a leg in a sudden catastrophe and after a few weeks on her back made much of as never before by sympathetic and curious friends and acquaintances, derives a world of thrills and excitement from her debut on crutches, with everybody eager to help her to make her new limitations as little burdensome as possible and with the thoughtlessness and adaptability of youth to serve her as the most potent allies of all.
Then, as she develops mental balance and leaves behind the stage that most novice monopedes pass through of occasional black moments when they feel an irresistible urge to throw away their crutches and run, and, failing that, to scream the ceiling down, she may all unconsciously build up an entirely satisfactory philosophy of life. Off such stuff, and of girls one-legged since childhood who know no other state, is the "glad-to-be-so" type of monopede made.
well, two other points before I close. Our charming friend wonders why I gave my model long pigtails blown by the wind. Surely, because I wanted her to embody as many as possible of the themes "London Life" readers enthuse over, and over none are more rhapsodies and ink poured fourth than over the worship of long hair! Whether long-haired ladies or long-hair lovers are common or rare in real life I've no mean of knowing - oddly enough, I've never met an example of either - but I should judge they must be fairly numerous if only because of the very large amount of space they take up in proportion to other "London Life" correspondents' contributions.
That my drawing is spoilt by the presence of pigtails - well, I'll own I'm not good at drawing hair. But the attitude I showed the figure in was determined by their presence! Actually its effect was in part spoilt by the fact it was printed a little bit askew; tilted a few degrees further forward, the balance would be restored and a decided improvement made.
Finally, "Monoped Extraordinary" thinks that I enjoy drawing and letter writing. quite wrong again! To me, devoid as I am of any kind of technical training or equipment, drawing is sheer weariness of the flesh! But the nature of the subject I teach has made me realise that the value of illustrations as a means of conveying ideas of things material. The roughest diagrammatic sketch, on blackboard or scrap of paper, gives a better idea of the plan of a building, the shape of a vase, the structure of an ornament motif, the folds of a garment, than any amount of verbiage. Hence my habit of illustrating letters, confirmed by "London Life" readers' frequently voiced requests for "more readers' sketches."
Nor do I enjoy letter writing. Far from it! But I do enjoy other correspondents' effusions, and as I am firmly convinced that he who would read letters should also write them, I act accordingly. And, Mr. Editor, you must think that somebody or other enjoys reading them when they are written, or you wouldn't print them!
I'm afraid the drawing I hinted at of my ideal monopede will never see daylight, for our lady friend to criticise! I look being forestalled by others better qualified than myself.
"Captain's" delightful sketch in your current number goes a long way towards my aim; the only details wherein his ideal differs from mine are the extreme slimness of his model and the fact that he gives her only a single crutch.
(By the bye, isn't "Captain," "Autolycus" again under another name? If so, why, oh why change pseudonyms? It's so confusing!)
Anyhow I hope he sends us more of his offers. I hope, too, that at least one monopede figures in "Artist in Curves" gallery of "London Life" girls, if it ever really materialises.
But there! I must stop! Again I have transgressed all due limits of length, and my fingers are aching quite a bit.
P. S. - I was interested to read "S. S. M.'s" note on the lady wearing a combined scarf and turban. The other day I saw a pretty, dark girl (I think she was Irish) otherwise dressed all in black, but with a piece of deep scarlet georgette, several yards long, elaborately twisted round her head like a turban (I think the folds must have been stitched into position) with the end hanging down in front of her right shoulder as far as her waist, then back across both shoulders, scarfwise, the end hanging down in front as far as her knees. The effect was unforgettable.
Yours truly,
C. D. B.