Kicking the Pricks
Publication Year: 2010
Published by: University of Minnesota Press
Title Page, Copyright
...The words are drowned by the mournful siren of the departing ship. The cold March wind blows a patter of freezing hail. The siren wails. 'Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!' The Earl Marshal wheels on his charger, glowering under frosted eyebrows. Threadbare dukes and duchesses lugging mangy cabin trunks with fading stickers: Thomas Cook, P and O, Capetown, Sydney, Hong Kong and Singapore, struggle up the gang-plank...
...As I watched the documentary on the death of Pier Paolo Pasolini last week, I thought: what would he have made of Little England, in the '8os? Pier Paolo's enemies saw him as a radical, but in fact he fought for traditional values, he even wrote against the students of '68 throwing stones at the police. Why didn't these students, the fortunate ones, throw stones at the real source of repression: the bankers and judges, rather than these simple boys from the south co-opted by the state?...
...One day I plucked up courage, and said to my father: 'Do we have Maori blood in the family?' He was speechless, he was so shocked, I don't think he had ever expected this question. After a moment he said: 'Of course not! That's preposterous.' So I said: 'Is there any way of looking back through the records, in New Zealand?' 'No,' he said, 'all the records were burnt late last century.'...
...I improvised The Last Of England— no script, scripts are the first restraint; the commissioning editor opens the mail and writes his hurried replies: 'Dear Mr Dickens, the script for your new novel Bleak House is much too complex.' And how about: 'Dear Mr Britten, I really think we've had too many requiems, though as you mentioned in your treatment they have had an impressive history, the Board doesn't really feel that splicing them with the Wilfred Owen poems is going to be intelligible to the audience'; 'And as for you, Mr Picasso, the plot for the Demoiselles . . . forget it darling! A cult movie.'...
...So muddled is Cannes that at the press-show for the film this morning the paparazzi confused the title of the film with the Princess of Wales, and Lindsay found himself dealing with the gossip columnists of Tout le Beau Monde. Tripping along in our self-conscious glad-rags, ogled by a thousand camera persons, gendarmes, officials and trumpeters. Desperate-looking celebs pushed and jostled us with their gun-toting bodyguards, snarling at by roaring crowds, dresses trampled in a designer death-walk....
About the Author
Page Count: 256
Publication Year: 2010
OCLC Number: 701704809
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