Memories, Dreams and Reflections

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Marianne Faithfull. Memories, Dreams and Reflections

memories, dreams & reflections

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contents

since writing my last book

summoning up a sunny afternoon in the sixties (one of many)

i guess she kept those vagabond ways

looking back at anger

eva

my weimar period

me and the fabulous beast

stealing coal

uncle bill & auntie allen: down among the beats at the jack kerouac school of disembodied poetics

the curse of hollow tinsel bohemia

caroline blackwood: for all that i found there

‘how goes the enemy?’

SPRING IN BRAZIERS

fuck off, darling! (my beloved henrietta moraes)

donatella versace

sixties legend in death plunge

decadence as a fine art

a giant musical mouse

gregory corso

sex with strangers and other guilty pleasures

my life as a magpie (an annotated faithfullography)

mind movies

the girl factory

a lean and hungry hook

juliette gréco

incident on boogie street

bono busking

m. st laurent’s dog

my past attacks me (ned kelly)

looking roman polanski in the eye

it was a good old wagon

sex, drugs and smoking

i join the club

they’ll never make a saint of me either

enormous plans at the last minute

index

acknowledgements

Also by Marianne Faithfull

About the Publisher

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Marianne Faithfull

with David Dalton

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I’m always amazed at how scenes from the past get congealed into rabid set pieces. There’s the whole Redlands business. It’s so complicated and has an endless life of its own. Almost immediately it became an emblematic part of Stones history, but my position was much dodgier – my role was ambivalent and eventually had disastrous effects on me and on my relationship with Mick. It was a horrible ordeal, but initially it created a bizarre bond between us. I took the poison-pen letters and all those dreadful things in the papers too hard. I was too young and insecure to have all that hatred directed at me and didn’t know how to deal with it. I turned it all on myself. Mick’s attitude was much, much healthier. Like, ‘Well, they’re just idiots. I’m not gonna let this get in my way!’ Which should have really been mine, too, but I wasn’t grown up or secure enough to do that. Also I was slandered as the wanton woman in the fur rug, while Mick was the noble rock star on trial.

The 1969 festival at Altamont, the Stones’ infamous free concert outside San Francisco, is now seen as a rock’n’roll Black Mass. So many things about Altamont that now seem inevitable just weren’t at the time. Mick may have sung his pantomime songs about the Devil and the Midnight Rambler, but he was in a total hippie mood when he went out there to do that concert. He wanted more than anything to be part of the counterculture utopia. ‘Brothers and sisters, we are creating the blueprint for a new society’ and so on. That’s how it was, actually. People imagine the Stones came to Altamont to incite murder, to summon up Beelzebub and his satanic crew from the bowels of the earth. Not at all! It was meant to be a Hippie Love Fest. It’s one of the saddest things that it turned into its opposite.

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