Letter from Clapham: Erik Donald France to Wallace Fowlie, July 10, 1991 (Part I)

[Though earlier I'd donated to Duke letters from Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998) to me, more recently, in sorting through my files, I came across photocopies of at least some of the letters I wrote to him. Here's Part I of a long one I wrote in longhand from Clapham, London, dated July 10, 1991. Ellipses indicate slight editing (deletion of a few personal details). Extra paragraph breaks added for easier reading. For his other letters, please see Wallace Fowlie Papers, David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University. Here's a link to the collection guide.]

                                          Clapham, London
                                          July 10, 1991 Wed.

Dear Wallace,

I've been here six weeks and after a sharp program of work and culture, it's time for reflection. Please don't think my slowness in writing you is a sign of laziness! I've been keeping myself very busy and intensely concentrated.

Besides work, which has offered its own set of challenges, I've committed myself to a regimen of culture & exploration -- to the point where I might fancifully justify it as a derangement of the senses! fueled by simple enthusiasm, often with Italian or English beer in hand, by listening, watching, reading, speculating, imagining, soaking, smelling &, most import of all, sleeping -- until at times I have gained moments of lucidity which are like moments of blissful comprehension & glimpses into a sparkling metaphysics. 

I'm afraid this sounds like blubbering nonsense, because I cannot describe it adequately.   

Heretofore mostly provincial, I've seen operas, and I've seen more plays of all types and sizes in weeks than I've seen in the same number of years. The ones that stirred me deeply were Euripides' The Trojan Women and Underground Man, adapted from Notes from Underground. The first theatre (Finborough) had thirty people, the second (Ecology Café), only nine. Both were intimate and fantastic; the Finborough smelled strongly of incense and encouraged dramatic acting. I sat in the front row and was spat on by the actors in moments of impassioned soliloquy.

But before I go spinning off, though, let me tell you about things perhaps more pertinent to your present work. I watched two specials on TV, besides the initial reports from Yugoslavia, and they are both worth mentioning -- The Doors Are Open and O Lucky Man!

The first, running between [an] hour and ninety minutes, and with abysmally low quality sound recording, centered around the Doors live in North London at the Round House [Roundhouse] (now derelict, but still standing).  The show was in 1968 -- during the time of the assassins -- a year that I'm sure will stand in history as much as 1870; narration, short interviews and brief statements are jumbled up with Round House footage and documentary footage of violent incidents of the year, crowd confrontation scenes in city streets, etc.

The narrator's introduction characterizes Morrison, who is seen clearly as the group's guiding principal [or principle], as "poet, prophet, and politician." We're shown the Doors performing "Five to One: and "The Music's Over," mixed with the riots at the Democratic Convention in Chicago. 

I scribbled down some of Morrison's ad lib doggerel, mostly during "When the Music's Over --"

                        Something's wrong / something's not quite right
                        Touch me baby / up tonight
                        All my life's a bright delusion
                        All my life's a torn circus
                        All my mind tumbling down

and, while proclaiming "We're gettin' tired of hanging around..." he pantomimes being himself hanged, while John Densmore is seen drumming intensely (cut to violent street action).

"Save us! Jesus!" (cut to riot in Britain) (to National Guard in gas masks with rifles, M16s and smoke grenade launchers, panicked and undisciplined, harassing protesters in a car) (to LBJ, Nixon, Reagan, Wallace) (back to Morrison): "When the Music's over, turn out the light, etc.!"

It is clumsy but effective editing, given the drama of confrontation and violence -- until soon the flow of the film begins to speed out of control, hastening, looping crazily back to "Five to One," a matador gored by a bull (as in a Goya painting), cuts of children with painted faces in a park, the Kennedy funeral procession, quick cuts to cars crashing, etc. 

                                             [To be continued.]   

[The Finborough Theatre is still going strong. Link here. Rachel Weisz acted here in the early 1990s. Cast of The Women of Troy: David Hobbs, Kristen Milward, Margaret Robertson, Alison Skilbeck, Kate Thorne. Also Christopher and David Harrison, Lee Hucker, Mark Kelly. "A new translation by Don Taylor. Directed by Richard Osborne." Jacqui Trousdale, design. Kim Nichols, lighting. Trevor Allen, music. Address: 118 Finborough Road SW 10. 

Not sure about the ensuing history of the Ecology Café.

Roundhouse, Chalk Farm Road, London NW1. Built in 1847. Renovated by 2005. Capacity, 1,700-3,300 (seated/standing). Patti Smith and Bob Dylan have performed there since the renovation.]