4930 Cogswell Place
I have much to tell you about England from the women to the food there has been no shortage of entertainments. The food is entertaining in that I have yet to discover how the English have survived on what they call food. The cuisine is abysmal, thankfully, I am able to find something to satisfy my appetites. That is where the women come in. The women here are quite extraordinary as long as you can look past the dentistry. First, I am American, that alone gives me quite a bit of leverage, second, since as soon as they find out I am with the RSC their knickers pretty much fall off and any resistance they may have had disappears. But life is more than just bad food and easy women.
I have joined the local chapter of the Cabalistic Order of the Crescent Moon. It is much the same as the chapter back home right down to the exhibit pieces in the locked rooms. Our latest bit of intrigue has revolved around what I must say is an especially bad play called “Carcosa” based, I have since discovered, on an obscure French book called The King in Yellow. The play was a horrible piece of existential clap trap more suited to the back alley theaters of New York than the distinguished boards of England, but there were two bits of stage craft that would have impressed even you. First, they managed to make the shadow of a cat appear to cross the stage with no actual cat being present and second several of the actors during the second act seemed to disappear. No, I do not mean dropped down a trapdoor or though a haze of smoke, but truly disappear. When pressed, the director (who also starred in and adapted the script…I know one of “those” types) claimed not to know what I was talking about. It would be one thing to just say, “I can’t tell you,” or “Sorry my boy trade secrets,” he acted like he had no clue what I was talking about.
Even that wasn’t the strangest part. Afterwards it seemed as though half the audience became raving maniacs. Frank, I kid you not, the audience rioted. Even in the worst piece of “art theater” the audience didn’t riot. They may have given a scathing review, but I tell you, this crowd came to blows. I was forced to fight my way out protecting my fellow club members.
I have recently learned that the mystery of this play, “Carcosa” or The King in Yellow, if you will, may be related to a series of murders. Several of the more intellectually leaning members of our cabal have gone out to an asylum in the countryside to investigate while I have been asked to observe our authoress as she reads the original text of the King in Yellow.
I shall endeavor to keep you up to date as to our investigation, please forward this letter to the members of our home cabal.
Additionally, please give my best to your sister and look after my parents.
I’ll write again as I can.