1992 - Spring
To hell and back. On March 9th, I set out timorously for England. . . The purpose of this misguided journey halfway across the globe was to make a miniscule appearance as Elizabeth I, in a movie to be entitled Orlando.
After a day or two, during which I had been fitted for a dress and a wig, Miss Tilda Swinton, the star of the film arrived to welcome me to England with a bouquet of roses and a gift. . . I was given a room so large that I could have a party for twenty people in it, and was treated with such deference that, on the occasion when I ate lunch there, the propriator himself served me with his own two hands. . . everyone concerned were all most solicitous and kind, but I cannot deny that I am heartily glade that it is over.
Some time ago, when Mr Nossiter's movie about my life was being shown at the New School on West 12th Street, Professor Brown, who rules that establishment, invited me to attend the screening. I couldn't accept, but last Wednesday evening I was at last free. . . a kind young woman was waiting for me and took me into a small room in which the professor's victims are stroed until needed.
There I sat drinking coffee when suddenly Mrs Branagh arrived and I learned that she was the professor's guest for the first half of the evening. I was able to listen to her interview which I greatly enjoyed.
When my turn came, Professor Brown was very cosy, asking no difficult or embarressing questions, but of course the presence of an audience went to my head and I tried to give a performance rather than hold a conversation, failing just where Mrs Branagh had succeeded.
When all the interviews were over, the professor took me and two of his handmaidens to supper at a nearby Italian restaurant.
After a day or two, during which I had been fitted for a dress and a wig, Miss Tilda Swinton, the star of the film arrived to welcome me to England with a bouquet of roses and a gift. . . I was given a room so large that I could have a party for twenty people in it, and was treated with such deference that, on the occasion when I ate lunch there, the propriator himself served me with his own two hands. . . everyone concerned were all most solicitous and kind, but I cannot deny that I am heartily glade that it is over.
Some time ago, when Mr Nossiter's movie about my life was being shown at the New School on West 12th Street, Professor Brown, who rules that establishment, invited me to attend the screening. I couldn't accept, but last Wednesday evening I was at last free. . . a kind young woman was waiting for me and took me into a small room in which the professor's victims are stroed until needed.
There I sat drinking coffee when suddenly Mrs Branagh arrived and I learned that she was the professor's guest for the first half of the evening. I was able to listen to her interview which I greatly enjoyed.
When my turn came, Professor Brown was very cosy, asking no difficult or embarressing questions, but of course the presence of an audience went to my head and I tried to give a performance rather than hold a conversation, failing just where Mrs Branagh had succeeded.
When all the interviews were over, the professor took me and two of his handmaidens to supper at a nearby Italian restaurant.