Читать книгу Gilliamesque - Terry Gilliam - Страница 6

This is not the book that my daughter, Holly, and I intended. The plan was to produce a large, expensive, high-class coffee-table book of my artwork for the Cognoscenti of Fine Art. It would include a choice selection of historical tidbits for those who could read. Unfortunately, once the tape recorder started rolling I couldn’t stop babbling, and we have ended up with something closer to a Grand Theft Auto-biography: a high-speed car chase through my life with lots of skids and crashes, many of the best moments whizzing by in a blur. As a result, I have had to insert handwritten or typed notes to adjust the story, apologise for the egocentric nature of the reminiscences, name the ignored, fill in the glaring gaps, or just try to get control of my story-telling self. The Cognoscenti will have to buy something else for their coffee tables.

Unlike my good friend Michael Palin – who knew where the real pot of gold was buried from the very beginning – I have never bothered to keep a diary and, as my wife Maggie never tires of reminding me, such memory as I do have left is dangerously – if not actionably – selective. On top of this, as the years have passed, more and more of those I’ve relied upon to be custodians of our shared but forgotten experiences – wonderful warm slabs of my life – have been sadly laid out on cold slabs of their own.

It’s in looking back on the lavish gifts of love and creative collaboration which other people – in harness with providence – have continued to recklessly foist on me that I come as close as I am ever likely to get to true humility. And since I haven’t tested the accuracy or otherwise of my alleged memories by cross-checking them with any of my small – and ever-dwindling – number of living friends and relatives, you’ll just have to take my word for it that the account that follows is 100% undisputed objective fact.

ANOTHER WARNING! If you are the type of reader who is looking for cuddly tales of domestic and family bliss, be prepared for disappointment. Those are mine to keep.