Collection of letters reveals friendship of Carson, Freeman

ALWAYS, RACHEL: The Letters of Rachel Carson and Dorothy Freeman. Edited by Martha Freeman. Beacon Press. 567 pages. $35.

Can two people of the same sex pursue a friendship that is passionate but not carnal? A convincing case in point is that of Rachel Carson (whose book, “Silent Spring,” aroused the country and the world in the ’60s to the dangers of DDT and other pesticides) and her friendship with Dorothy Freeman. In this collection of letters exchanged between them in the 1952-1964 period, they disclose a breadth of emotion and passion that only true love can embrace.

“Now that you seem almost part of me — and you do –,” wrote Rachel to her “Darling Dorothy” in the early phase of their relationship, “I can share with you the things that give me the frightened, lonely feeling I told you about, and feel that you will truly understand.” In spite of the adulation of the public, the 45-year-old Rachel hungered for love that offered the totality of complete understanding and knew she had found it in the woman who was nine years her senior.

“I don’t suppose,” Rachel wrote to Dorothy, “anyone really knows how a creative writer works … or what sort of nourishment his spirit must have. All I am certain of is this: that it is quite necessary for me to know there is someone who is deeply devoted to me as a person, and who also has the capacity and the depth of understanding to share, vicariously, the crushing burden of creative effort … I knew when first I saw you that I wanted to see much more of you — I loved you before you left Southport … and day by day all that I sensed in you has been fulfilled.”

“Southport” is Southport Island, Maine, the locale that Rachel settled on in 1952 as the chosen site for a seaside cottage. Neighboring longtime summer residents Dorothy and Stan Freeman were delighted, and Mrs. Freeman had written to Rachel immediately at her home address in Silver Spring, Md., expressing their pleasure. In July of the next year, Rachel met the kindly Freemans, both of whom greatly admired Rachel’s current best seller, “The Sea Around Us.” Friendship flowered, and in 1955 the author dedicated her next book, “The Edge of the Sea,” to Dorothy and Stanley, “who have gone down with me into the low-tide world and have felt its beauty and its mystery.”

Rachel was fond of Stanley, but Dorothy was the prism for the light of Rachel’s soul. On the eve of the publication of “The Edge of the Sea,” the joyous author wrote, “My darling Dorothy, If I could have been granted only one wish for the day of publication … it would be to have you share it with me. And the wish is being granted. … In a few hours I am to see you. … Goodnight, dearest, I shall be thinking of you as you read this. You know I love you deeply and tenderly — and all ways!”

Rachel’s gratitude for the haven she had found in the friendship of Dorothy was amplified by the pressures in her private life. After the death of her father in the mid-’30s, she had become the sole support and caregiver of an extended family that included her ailing mother, two young daughters of a deceased older sister and a grandnephew, Roger, whom she eventually adopted. Tragically, in the spring of 1960, she was stricken with the onset of a “catalog of illnesses” springing from the heart trouble and cancer which brought about her death at age 57.

With courage above and beyond, Rachel Carson rose above life’s vicissitudes; it was during this period of painful decline that she wrote what is considered to be her ultima Thule, “Silent Spring.” Throughout the final years of her life she fought to remain optimistic. “We are going to be happy, and go on enjoying all the lovely things that give life meaning,” she wrote to Dorothy. It was the philosophical leitmotif that ran through her life like a bright ribbon.

Martha Freeman, granddaughter of Dorothy and Stanley Freeman, who lives in Hallowell, has edited these letters so skillfully they emerge as a docudrama of sustained interest that is rounded out with her own insightful preface, a biological color piece by Paul Brooks, Rachel’s editor and friend, and an intimate eight-page album of family photographs.

This hat-in-the-air collection leaves one wishing for more, a rousing tribute to what Charles Dickens called “the great art o’ letter writin’.”

Bea Goodrich’s reviews are a monthly feature in the Books & Music section.