Letters from a young Londoner to her lover offer an intimate chronicle of life on the homefront.
In 2017, McGowan purchased a large cache of letters written by Eileen Alexander (1917-1986), from 1939 to 1947, to Gershon Ellenbogen, her boyfriend, fiance, and, in 1944, husband. Deftly edited by McGowan and with informative chapter introductions by Crane, the letters offer a moving, sharply etched chronicle of wartime London, where Eileen lived with her family, joined the war effort, and eagerly awaited Gershon’s return from a post in Egypt. As Alexander herself noted, she was a lively, engaging correspondent: “letter-writing is undoubtedly my medium,” she wrote to Gershon; “when I’m writing (and particularly when I’m writing to you, my dear love) I have the feeling that I’m living my experiences all over again—but living them more richly, because they’re being shared with a friend.” Alexander’s wit and intelligence shine through reports of her work, their friends’ romantic entanglements, her reflections on religion, her sexual longing, and tidbits of gossip, some related to their mutual friend Aubrey Eban, who later became, as Abba Eban, the internationally renowned “Voice of Israel.” Awarded a first in English at Cambridge, Alexander laces her letters with literary references, and though nightly bombings often required sleeping in shelters, she and her friends were able to dine out, gather in one another’s houses, and attend the theater and movies, excursions that she recounted in detail to Gershon. The war certainly took its toll, psychologically and emotionally, but Alexander assured Gershon, “I’m a Girl of Simple Needs. The only things I must have are you,” friends, books, and “constant Hot Water.” As “depressing and exhausting” as the war was, Alexander wrote, “if I were asked to choose between death and a shameful peace—I would choose death,” she wrote. “The only price I couldn’t pay would be your life.”
A rare, vivid perspective on the impact of war.