The Richard Burton Diaries

by Richard Burton

  On Thursday I did the ‘Say that she rail’ speech.102 It was alright I suppose.

  Yesterday, Saturday, we lolled about the house all day and had lunch with the children and Karen. Dinner too with them all. I am in one of my lazy moods and do crosswords all the time [...]. Tonight we dine with the crew and cast in a sort of celebration for Ossie (Cameraman) Morris’ wedding. He is to be married today.

  Had a letter and script from Emlyn Williams which took nearly 3 weeks to arrive. Script was Camelot. Letter from J. Logan re Camelot, also two weeks late. What a postal service.

  Tuesday 23rd103 I must force my intense laziness into a better order. I said the gaps in this journal were getting longer but this is the longest yet. At random [...] I'll fiddle about with some things that we, or I, have done in the past ten days or so.

  Last weekend [...] we borrowed Ron Berkeley's tiny apartment at Corsetti's.104 It was minuscule and nicely tatty – two small rooms and a sunless balcony. It had some things nevertheless that intrigued Quicktake and myself: The idea of a bed – and a room to go with it – that had been ill-used and used for the most sensual of reasons; one poverty stricken hot-plate on top of a reasonably inefficient refrigerator; no hot water and the idea of sand everywhere. In one's hair, in one's bed, outside the door, hovering on one's eyelashes, under one's nails, caught in the coarse hair that threatens out of one's nostrils. And, of course, the inevitable tar on the soles of the feet.

  As Saturday drew towards its burning end (by this time I was bright with red sun) and with the knowledge that we were to listen to Cassius Clay fight Henry Cooper for the heavyweight championship of the world in London on the short-wave radio I became very nervous.105 I began to think of their fear and, knowing better and not being wise after the event and being chauvinistic frankly and always in favour of the man who couldn't win I predicted a win for the American in 7 rounds. Robert Wilson, who shall be and is nameless said 6. And so he was right. Will they ever believe in one hundred years from now that frightened intelligent cultured people would support such an anachronism as one man beating another man with his fists for MONEY.

  On Sunday the babies – Liza and Maria – came down to spend the day. It was unsatisfactory because whereas on Saturday there was reasonable calm on the beach, on Sunday it was somewhat more hectic. More people and a pair of paparazzi.

  We left early – about 3.0 – because of their (the paparazzi) presence – and with the haste [...] we discovered that we had left ‘Oh Fie’ behind.

  We went home to mourn helplessly his eternal loss and to wish hopefully for his recovery. He was home in half an hour having hidden under the bed of Ron's apartment. E kissed and fussed him a great deal while I, as is my nature, insulted him out of fear for his loveliness and lostness and spoke sharply to all and sundry. Not too nice.

  The previous days, like this pen, have nothing to record that can be remembered. The usual awakening at 7.00. The usual arrival at the Studio at 8.00. Franco. Ossie Morris, Carlo, McWhorter with his pretence of camaraderie and fear going hand in hand, as ruthless, unless I am about, as a baked Alaska, boredom, and crossword puzzles.106

  We had a lunch, as I remember, alone, but invaded by Spinetti who insisted on telling us how abnormal he was. He is fairly worthless. He told us of his being de-virginized by his brother. That is buggered. I don't believe a word he says. ‘Four-letter’ draws him out as they say. I wish she'd keep him in. I don't know where to look. Unless I'm drunk.

  The film is losing ground financially all the time though I don't think it's of immense importance. I don't mean the film, I mean the losing of ground. It has to be understood that this film will be financially a dead loss for us. There is no way out and we, I, may have done immense damage to F. Z. No man could tolerate my insults, when I'm really roused, and survive them without some loss of ego. And not only me but Elisabeth. On our own heads be it.

  We have agreed to read Poetry at the Acropolis for 11/2 hrs on July 27th. A very eccentric idea of entertainment – two foreigners reading in their own language (therefore foreign) to 5000 Greeks. [...]

  We had a typical film day today. Two shots of me climbing stairs chasing E before 10am. Next shot of me at 1.30pm. E called for midday, called on set with me for scene in the barn – wool everywhere – at 5.15. Didn't get shot so sent home via our Trattoria and heard the Mass. Wrote some of the above and slept like the dead until 20 minutes ago.

  We are being interviewed by a man called Russell Braddon.107 He appears nice. I wonder if he is. He is an Australian, and he writes books. He is to send me one.

  Sunday 29th The end of another working week [...] and a rough one. We waded through wool, ran through bats, swung on trapezes, threw each other around. It was a week of visitors too. On Wednesday we had the British Ambassador Sir John Ward and his wife, [...] some American who's head of the Film Industry something or other and his wife, McWhorter and wife for lunch.108 It was noisy and faintly drunken. Lady Ward is a real hard faced toper and quite clearly loathes her husband. I fancy the feeling is mutual. The NY Times critic Bosley Crowther and his wife also there.109 He spent the entire time staring at Booby and saying how beautiful she was.110 Earlier when we climbed out of the sheep's wool we were lying on, E said that it was full of lice. Crowther said ‘You mustn't say you were lousy in T. of Shrew.’ She said ‘No, I'll leave that to you.’ Touché.

  On Thursday I had lunch with Joseph Levine, monstrously fat and foul-mouthed but oddly likeable and, I think, trustworthy.111 (I may live to eat those words.) He agreed to supply us with $1,000,000 for Faustus and $350,000 to OUDS.112 Seems alright to me.

  After he'd gone Aaron arrived from NY [...] tired and plane drunk. Everybody shouted a lot because H. French, who shall be hopeless, had arranged a deal without his, Aaron's, knowledge. Aaron arranged to see Levine that night and again in the morning.

  Yesterday, Saturday, I worked until 1pm. Just two shots with M. Hordern and cronies.

  Aaron came down and talked business and said rather sadly that he was sorry he bored me, but if he didn't he wouldn't be doing his job as a lawyer. I said he didn't bore me at all but business did.

  J. Levine arrived again and there was more amiable obscenity. Anyway we've got the money which is all I care about.

  I went home and had brunch at 2.0 with Glorious and swam a few lengths of the pool with Liza. It was cold but refreshing.

  We then slept for a couple of hours and set out for the Airport to pick up Chris and Mike who were coming from Switzerland.

  We took the two girls with us and stopped at a Trattoria en route. It was pleasant enough. The boys looked lovely in their blazers. And so to bed last night. [...]

  Continuing the day. We donned bathing costumes about 9.30 and lay in the sun. The servants had all gone to Mass and so I boiled myself a couple of eggs. Later in the morning I swam with Liza, Michael and Chris in the pool – it was cold but exhilarating. The two last had to wear my underpants to swim and sunbathe – they have no swimming costumes if you please and have to borrow them at school! The sun became wilful at about 11.30 and disappeared in an ominous looking cloud about 12 and stayed there ‘till 1.30. We lunched on pork chops and chips and hominy grits. I sunbathed for another hour or so and went up to bed. E, already there, was nodding off. After a time we both napped, woke about 5.00 and walked [...]

  We dined at 7.00 on Southern Fried Chicken. It's been an all-American day for food.

  After dinner we walked again with Maria who is too slow to keep up with the others. The others wishing to come with us, having deserted Maria, were told they couldn't. So they followed us anyway, hiding behind hedges etc. but both the boys had bright red jackets on and were easily detectable.

  I rubbed, with Slowtake's assistance, vinegar on my sunburn and smelt like a fried fish and chip shop. Later I took a long slow warm oil bath (a sprinkling in the water of a stuff called ‘Sardo’) and went to bed. The lights were out at 10.30.

  Both Eliz and I agreed solemnly that we ne
ver want to work again but simply loll our lives away in a sort of eternal Sunday. Quites right too. We are both bone-lazy. And enjoy it.

  Monday 30th One of my awful unaccountable days of savage ill-humour. The day started pleasantly enough. [...] Went down stairs about 8.00 and had some orange juice, returned and wrote some entries in this journal. Went through my lines remaining in the film [...] and took the boys off to the beach. For the rest of the day I snarled at everyone, everything and every idea.

  Eliz joined us at lunch. She was gay and sweet but nothing could drag me out of my tantrum. Michael irritated the bejasus out of me. The beach was too sandy, he didn't know how to ask for Coca-Cola, didn't know how to get on the roof to get back his aeroplane, thought the bathing costumes were not ‘bitchen’ which is the new and horrible word for ‘up-to-date’, ‘modern’, ‘cool’, ‘unsquare’, ‘with it’ etc. The latest ‘bitchen’ bathing costume is apparently made of canvas and comes down to the knees! I'm walking backwards for progress.

  Still, little Mike is at an awkward stage, 13, and is a most loveable little feller, and normally I would have joked about it but yesterday.....

  I swam quite a bit and talked interminable business with Aaron.

  We saw rushes at 4.00 back at the Studio and went to L'Escargot for dinner with Aaron, the two boys, R. Hanley [...] J. Lee, R. and S. Wilson. I started, probably under the benevolent influence of wine, to mellow a little but not much. It is now 3.30am. I have been asleep.

  Tuesday 31st My second day off. Eliz left about 8.30 for the studio though we had been up since 4.00am. At 5am we made soup!

  I worked on the words a bit first, had some breakfast – two boiled eggs – and did the Telegraph crossword in the sun. The boys went into town with Mario and the girls (the girls were going to school) and bought some comics. They are unobtainable in Rolle apparently.113 Karen prevented them from buying bathing costumes because they were ‘improperly dressed’ to go shopping.

  Went to pick up Eliz for lunch and we went to the ‘Barn’ to eat with the boys and Joe Roddy (Look magazine).114 It was very pleasant.

  Back at the studio I saw the cut film, said goodbye to Frosch – off to Geneva, Paris and NY – and found that Eliz had acquired a bunny rabbit for Liza.

  JUNE

  Wednesday 1st Work, as usual – The wedding reception. Drank only beer most of the day. Said goodbye to Russ Braddon of the Sunday Times (England). Dined at the Trattoria of the Divino Amore. Lost to E at baci (boule). Put out the lights at 11.30 – woke at 1.30 – stayed awake for hours scratching my sunburn. E sprayed me with ‘Mediquick’. Killed two mosquitoes. Smoked many cigarettes and listened to trains go by. Went back to sleep at 5.00(?). MacWhorter wrote over zealous letter to Franco Z yesterday. Maybe, however, will do him some good.

  Thursday 2nd That hideous costume of Zeff's on again – the one that makes me look as if I have a very nasty and monstrous growth on my right thigh. Apart from its unimaginative ugliness it is also hell to put on and torture to wear. I did my longest speech in the film and took forever to do it. Eliz was very good in her bit. In fact she's very good altogether.

  We lunched alone on spaghetti [...] and drank a little wine. Joe Roddy there again. Read a long article in McCall's about V. Woolf.115 [...]

  Zeffirelli wrote a reply to McWhorter which was fairly annihilating but McWhorter, impervious to insult, merely said to Eliz. ‘Nevertheless he was here at 8.20 this morning.’ That's all he cares about.

  We are invited to the British Embassy for the Queen's birthday. How posh we are getting. And respectable. We've got to stop that image. [...]

  There was a national holiday and we stopped at our Trattoria for a glass of wine. Hundreds of people and children there so we didn't stay long. We really need those police around sometimes if only to avoid embarrassment. [...]

  I am eating a lot.

  Friday 3rd I had only one shot to do this morning but, malheureusement, Eliz had three, then of course she had to wash her hair for the weekend so we got away from the studio at 1.30.116 Down to Corsetti's for lunch – a delicious sole from the Adriatic and Eliz a sea-bass, all with french fries and washed down by two bottles of Fontana Candida – a nice white cold wine from Frascati.117 [...]

  I was asleep by 9.00 pm. Made myself some cabbage soup at 2.00 am and was joined by Bon Apetito.118 We eat from the same bowls like two pups.

  Saturday 4th We got up early slightly nervous about Maria's school sports. What would she be like? I made Bloody Marys for Karen Eliz and self to steady our nerves.119 It was a very warm day. We arrived about 5 minutes before the start. Maria, with [...] style and grace, and much interest in the other competitors, came last in the 25yd dash. They had sack races, bean-bag throwing, obstacle races. The colours were truly international. From the pinko-grey of N. Europe to Chinese yellow via black-as-nights. I entered the fathers’ race which due to the devious machinations of a black Somali, an ambassador, and three Bloody Marys, I lost. We had to pick up a balloon in one corner of the ground, a flag in another, a coca cola bottle at the gate, a chiffon scarf en route and a paper flower elsewhere. I quickly arranged with this black bloody Iago, this coloured Judas, to pick up two balloons, two paper flowers, while he picked up two bottles and two flags which, I rapidly explained, would cut the race in half as we would exchange with each other. But race-memory, atavism, took over inside his boiling black head and I had a double journey for the bottles. His side of the bargain ceased to exist after he'd given me one flag and I had given him one balloon and one paper flower. Such cheating is soul destroying. How can they rule themselves if they are such cheats. No wonder Africa is going to the dogs. Result; the black diplomat nineteenth and me twentieth. From now on I only cheat with Welshmen. I'm starting to train now for next year's race.

  We went to the Chianti for lunch. Went home and swam a great deal in the pool. Listened to the BBC and went, worn out, to bed.

  Sunday 5th Today is a record equaller. Today is the 7,601st day since the war ended. That number is the exact equal of days between November 11th 1918 and September 3rd 1939. Every day from now on, says the Sunday Times cheerfully, should be counted as a bonus.

  We spent the 7601st day of uneasy peace peacefully. We sunbathed in the garden, swam in the pool, went for walks across the shorn fields, the hay standing in neat bundles, had an early lunch of Southern Fried Chicken, napped in the afternoon, did our exercises. Dined at 7.00 on pork chops and chips and salad. I played ‘boxes’ with Liza who is phenomenally quick at picking up games, read a couple of chapters of Agatha Christie and slept until 1/2 hour ago.120

  We had soup for breakfast, out of tin on our private hot plates and soup again for high tea. We are soup mad.

  Monday 6th On the way home (it was, surprisingly, raining) we took the Wilsons and the Flanagans and Joe Roddy to our ‘Trat’. There were six sergeants Italian there, one from Sicily one from Naples. The last gave bread wine and sausage all made by his mother. I bet Roddy they knew the purple passage from Dante.121 [...] The boys gave me a book of dirty verses. Some of it very funny.

  [There are no further entries in the diary from early June to late August. Late in June Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? was released to considerable critical acclaim. In the same month Burton and Taylor were invited to the home of Princess Luciana Pignatelli (1935–2008) to meet Senator Robert Kennedy (1925–68) and his wife Ethel (1928—). They went to dinner, a night-club, and then returned to the Hotel Eden where Burton and Kennedy competed to see who had the best knowledge of Shakespearean sonnets. Richard watched the Football World Cup Final on 30 July 1966, supporting West Germany against England, with England achieving the final victory.

  In August Richard began starring in and co-directing the film production of Dr Faustus, using many of the same Oxford University Dramatic Society cast that had appeared in the stage version the previous year. Richard and Elizabeth sank over £300,000 of their own money in the production.]

  AUGUST

  Tuesday 23rd
Yesterday we began shooting Faustus. Many things have happened in the missing days in this diary. [...] I will try to recapture some of the events. My sister Edith's death and within a few days thereafter Monty Clift's death.122

  With pre-planning we shot so quickly [...] yesterday that we did seven set-ups in the morning and early afternoon. Now to wait for the results!

  After shooting E and I attended a press conference with Nevill and the rest of the Oxford lot. Usual inane questions, usual bland answers.

  Later we went alone for a quiet dinner at a motel on the Raccordo Anulare.123 Omelette and sauté potatoes and coffee and wine. And so to house and home.

  [There are no further entries in the diary until late September. During this period Richard was mainly occupied with the filming of Dr Faustus.]

  SEPTEMBER

  Wednesday 21st Yesterday we began the Garden of Delights – the Seven Deadly Sins – of Faustus. Nevill has gone off to England and then to the USA. So with chubby Nick Young I am alone alone on a wide wide film.124 I have varying feelings about this project – vague fears that it and I are bad or that it's all going to work.

  Roddy Mann of the Sunday Express came to interview.125 He seems lonely and olding. His middle-age is beginning to show – he is 44 and wifeless and childless and of late (two weeks or so ago) motherless. He also writes indifferently.