Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [148]
Girodias now wants us to appear as witnesses at his trial. He says ‘I am sure they (MP) will not be indifferent to my plight since, after all, I have fought many battles in the past which have opened the way to the (relative) freedom of expressive opinion we are now enjoying,’ and later slightly fudges the fine moral tone by saying ‘such an occasion could be turned into a rather wild occasion for both publicity and fun, rolled into one.’ He even says he can apply for a postponement of the trial if we are not available. To be asked to appear at Girodias’s trial has the same ring of unreality as being photographed by Richard Avedon.
What do we do? I am utterly opposed to such bigots as Sir Cyril Black; of Girodias I know nothing except his taste in literature, which roughly accords with my own. So support should be given. But three or four days in New York at the end of the week would deal my already limited writing time a severe blow. Also our appearance would be publicised in a way in which we have no control. We need to be absolutely certain ourselves about our dedication to Girodias, our knowledge of the case, and how we feel we can best help.
So I am trying to concentrate on what I do know about – my writing – through which my own views about Sir Cyril Black can, I feel, be better put over than by attending a show trial in New York.
But I feel so weak for not doing anything. I certainly feel Python’s name should be linked with this very worthy cause in some way. This difficult moral problem disturbed me more than it ought as I sat on the loo reading the letter before breakfast.
Monday, May 26th
En famille, we drove up to South End Green, briefly surveyed the photo display for Monty Python and the Holy Grail playing at the Hampstead Classic this week, then went on to sample the delights of the Bank Holiday Fair on the Heath. Subjected ourselves to the usual gut-gripping violence on Big Wheels, Rotordyne, where you are spun round at colossal force until you stick to the wall, and Whizzers, where you’re just hurled around until you feel your stomach is going to come out of the top of your head.
Thursday, May 29th
Yesterday I started on one of the ‘atmosphere’ pieces for the Jimmy Gilbert show. Set in a boys’ school in Edwardian England. I read it to Terry this morning, who enthused greatly – but he’s worried that Light Entertainment will do it badly and the ‘atmosphere’ which it needs may be lost. I am enjoying the writing routine again, though.
Monday, June 2nd
Referendum day is Thursday,1 and we are alternately told that whatever we say doesn’t matter a jot in the great pattern of things (James Cameron in The Guardian on Saturday) or that it is the most important decision we will ever make in our lives (most politicians). I am still undecided. In both cases it boils down to having confidence in Britain. Either to stay in Europe and keep up with the fast pace of material progress which undoubtedly have made France and Germany quite attractive places to live in, or to have the confidence to break from the incentive and the protection of Europe and become a one country independent free trader, as in the good old days. Neither decision, I think, involves the downfall of our nation. Once a decision is taken it will all be absorbed into the system and the country will carry on working (or not working) as it always did. For once a major politico-economic issue in Britain has not been debated on purely class lines. Tories mix with Labour, socialists with Monday Clubbers, unionists and bosses on pro and anti platforms. Only the implacable