Father John Yang
December 20, 1920
Natasha P. Levin
New York, New York
It is wonderful to hear from you. I think often and fondly—despite or because of—our adventures with our friends. The front gave us many memories, and merry New England many more. It is good to hear that you aren’t spending your time in the dance halls, as alluring as they might be. I am, after all, still a priest and the Church has called for modesty.
I am glad that you mentioned the book and the dreams. I hope you don’t think me childish, but I feel I must confess that I have also been having odd experiences. Yesterday in prayer, I uttered the word “Goody” instead of “Good” in reference to the Holy Mother. And it seems as if every bird I see reminds me of “Fowler”.
On their own, parapraxis like these would account for nothing. However, I mention them because they are not isolated. There is also a whispering woman’s voice I’ve heard emanating from the darker corners of the library. The voice never utters anything distinct, but the pleading tone behind its words claws at me late at night. Prayer seems to only make it worse as if communing with God gives it a path to my ears. Just now there seems to be a presence alighting just outside my periphery reading these words no matter which way I turn. Sleeping has become a chore, although I appreciate the added hours to the day, even if they are spent weary.
I feel as if I am on the cusp of cracking the diary myself. There seems to be an nefarious logic to the very structure of the page that is far removed from the words themselves. I fear I will never realize everything the diary holds, however, by this point much of the book has set itself upon my mind. Recalling a passage will often bring the entire page floating in front of me. It is curious.
If you can make it to Boston I would gladly set aside as much time as you’d like to discuss the book. I will have Mass to attend to upon the Holy Days, however, there is always time to translate and study now that sleep is so fitful.
Father John Yang