Se publica la única novela escrita por "Charlot" Charles Chaplin
Centenario del gran artista.
La cinemateca de Bolonia publica su novela ,inédita , "Footlight, con aprobación de su familia.
La novela 'Footlights' cuenta la "historia de una bailarina y de un payaso y tiene su origen en un encuentro entre Chaplin y un coreógrafo ruso, Njiinsky en 1916", afirma el biógrafo David Robinson. "Emociona por su vitalidad, su equilibrio y su libertad", así como una escritura cercana a la de Dickens, añade la Cinemateca.
He smiled wistfully. "Because I'm old and embittered, I suppose."
She shook her head without taking her eyes from him. "You're not old, and I'm sure you're not embittered – You like people too much."
"Individually, yes," he answered, "there's greatness in everyone. But the audience – they are what they are – a motley confusion of cross purposes. A great star once … hissed off the stage, and then I realized, that could happen to me. You know, as a comedian gets older and loses his exuberance, he has to think analytically about his work – that is, if he wants to continue in the funny business … And about the audience, then I began to fear them … ruthless, unpredictable … like a monster without a head; you never know which way it's going to turn – it can be prodded in any direction … That's why I had to take a drink before I could face them. It got to be torture every performance. I never really liked drink, but I couldn't be funny without it, and the more I drank," he shrugged. " … well, it became a vicious circle."
"A nervous breakdown. I almost died."
"And you're still drinking?"
"Occasionally, when I think of things." He smiled, "The wrong things, I suppose. However, I've talked enough about myself. What would you like for breakfast?"
"What a sad business, being funny," she said thoughtfully.
The table was laid and now he was ready to cook breakfast. He stood a moment, deep in thought. "But it has its compensations … It's a great thrill to hear an audience laugh. Now let me see," he said, opening the door of the larder, "We have eggs, salmon, sardines … " He snapped his fingers. "That's broken my dream! I dreamt we were doing an act together! That's the trouble, I get wonderful ideas in my dreams, but when I awake, I forget them. This morning I found myself shaking with laughter. Then I got up and rushed to the desk and wrote five pages of screams. Then I awoke and found I hadn't written a line."
"Yes, I could make a comeback, if I could only remember my dreams. I've got to work – not alone for the money, it'll be good for my soul."
"I wish I could help."
"I know I'm funny," he said emphatically, "but the managers think I'm through … a has-been. God! It would be wonderful to make them eat their words. That's what I hate about getting old – the contempt and indifference they show you.
"They think I'm useless … a has-been. That's why it would be wonderful to make a comeback! … I mean sensational! To rock them with laughter like I used to … to hear that roar go up … waves of laughter coming at you, lifting you off your feet … what a tonic! You want to laugh with them, but you hold back and laugh inside … God, there's nothing like it!" He paused. "As much as I hate those lousy – I love to hear them laugh!"