TV Times

28 December1999

It's been a hectic week for viewing the Century - I now feel I know Hitler better than any of my friends. People's Century is a gripping view, the BBC at its very best. Vividly I remember Christmas Eve morning, sitting in front of my light box for my depression, while watching the escalation of Germany's persecution of the Jews. Oh - they didn't show all of the death camp atrocities, and I've seem more harrowing footage. Much more harrowing. But a more thoughtful, informative, steadily-building hour of horror would be hard to imagine. I knew a lot of it already, of course - these matters are no secret. But perhaps the most shattering impact was at the end when they showed film of ordinary Germans being conducted round Auschwitz, or maybe Dachau, the better for them to appreciate the inhuman acts their Government had committed in their name, and in which they had so willingly colluded.

"Inhuman" is not a good adjective. Anthony Burgess would have done much better. There were two hours about him, one of my fave writers, as well this week. Normally when I watch "Arts" progs, I haven't much of a clue what they're banging on about. Not widely-read or listened, and blind to the visual arts, these shows make me feel an outsider. But with AB, or John Williams as I learned he was really called, it was different. Years ago I lived the Enderby trilogy. I was horrified by Clockwork Orange. And I read Earthly Powers in one three-day sitting, with breaks only for sleeping. (The means for remaining awake were not at that time in our parish.)

But with Burgess the question always remains - was he really a writer, or merely the supreme stylist? Let me give you the first sentence of Earthly Powers (from memory - it is extremely memorable.) "One sunny afternoon I was lying in bed with my catamite when the butler announced the Archbishop had arrived." (Not word-perfect.)

Now - we have to ponder here how many English-speaking people, of whatever education, have ever heard of "catamite" or have the faintest clue what it is. So Burgess succeeded in nothing less than forcing millions of people around the world to reach for the dictionary before they'd got on to the second damn sentence. Good way to write a book? Hmmmmm. And of course his writings are peppered with such. Great writer or showman superb? The opinion is yours to form.

Also he drank like a fish, and had no friends. This was comforting.

No stranger to alcohol either, in her later years, was Dusty Springfield, who at last got the tribute she deserved, rather than the shabby 30min she was awarded right after her death. An excellent hour, which dwelt perhaps excessively on the notion that at home this woman was plain Mary O'Brien, whilst on stage she was Dusty Springfield, superstar.

Magnificat has no problem with this. It would be hard to imagine anything other, in fact. Fondly I pictured the alternative - being the Stage Star 24 hours a day would lead to certain domestic difficulties. Just think - standing in the kitchen frying eggs whilst wearing a sequinned gown, one-foot stilettos, two foot hair, and screeching "I close my eyes and count to ten!" all the time waving your arms suitably theatrically. The fat would get all over the place.

And waking in the morning, resplendent in black mascara, hair unblemished Mary Tyler Moore style, and bawling, "You don't have to say you love me" into your sleeping partner's lughole. It just wouldn't wash, now would it?

Anita Ekberg still has long blonde hair, although the rest of her has hit the tubes big time. In a particularly vicious film, she was portrayed as she now is at 68, intercut with acres of footage of her in her cinematic prime. A nasty work, which I'm sure would upset her greatly when she viewed it sober. Perhaps the worst thing of all was sending a younger woman (unseen but much heard) to conduct the interview. A handsome faggot would have been much more suitable, not to say familiar.

This young woman patiently read through a survey of the century's most sexy women, and Ms Ekberg's comments deserve repeating here....

Monroe. "A beautiful woman, and a good actress. Of course if she were still alive, she would be older than me, and I wonder what she would look like now."

Bardot. "Pretty. She was not beautiful, but she was pretty. Well, she had a beautiful body, but merely a pretty face."

Welch. "I never met her. She was the next generation. Of course she was totally reconstructed as well."

Ms Ekberg was reacting rather badly to this list until she discovered that she herself occupied thirteenth slot - after which her gloating over the remaining seven was a sight to behold. All in all a thoroughly unpleasant and exploitative hour of celluloid. I hope they paid her damn well.

We didn't manage to leave the house yesterday, but today is glorious once again. It's 11am, and magnificat is signing off now for irl conversation with someone. Anyone. No matter how banal. cya.