• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Home by public transport. It takes me an hour, including a 20-minute wait at a bus stop for buses advertised as every six to eight minutes. As I wait I become aware of how important time has become to me now. To stand at a bus stop for 20 minutes staring into space seems a crime.

It does rather throw my working day, but I manage to write some more of the ‘Twibune’. Helen suggests he should have a friend, so I write in Biggus Dickus, who thpeakth with a lithp.

Wednesday, March 16th

In the post, an invitation to the preview/premiere of Jabberwocky. I notice they’ve spelt my name wrong on the film credits —’Michel (sic) Palin’.

Slowly begin to overcome some indefinable resistance to writing any new material for the ‘Bible’ story, and by mid-afternoon I’m beginning to gather momentum. Complete a new ‘Headmaster’ piece for the opening, then literally race along with an ending montage, pre-crucifixion. The ideas suddenly seem to be released.

I work, with no interruption, until nearly six. Outside it’s pouring. Feel very pleased with the day’s work. I suppose I needed a day on my own at my own pace.

Completed my will. Put the envelope in the post, but cannot kill myself yet, as it was only a draft will.

Thursday, March 17th

Across sunny London to the Columbia Theatre, where the Jabberwocky magazine-writers’ preview is just finishing.

I am warned that there are men from the Sunday Mirror here, who have not bothered to see the film. They stand, like Tweedledum and Tweedledee, grinning ingratiatingly and nosing out any sensation there is to be had like pigs searching for truffles. I find myself talking to one of them, in the event of Columbia-Warner bringing no-one else for me to talk to, about Python and then about the new Python film. The notebook suddenly slides out and I realise that he is onto a ‘story’ – a ‘Python to send up Bible story’ story. So I remember why I’m here and move away from that one.

Peter Noble waddles by, fondling my arm like an overfed but harmless Roman patrician and lining me up for a snap of him talking to me, for his newspaper, Screen International. Then he waddles off.

Max W is there. Seemingly unchanged by his bad reviews for Malvolio at Greenwich and as endearingly chatty and jokey as ever. The world could be ending outside, but Max would keep up his gentle monologue. He has never, as long as I’ve ever been with him, showed any trace of alarm, or sudden reaction of any kind. He paces himself beautifully and I found talking to him was like finding the eye in the centre of the hurricane.

I found amongst the gathering a qualified enthusiasm. Words like ‘smash hit’ and ‘success’ were not on everybody’s lips.

Friday, March 18th

Difficult, but finally constructive Python meeting at 2 Park Square West. We assembled at 10.15, but Eric looked unwell, and John did not arrive until ten to eleven.

So neither of those two seemed in the best of moods, and Terry’s suggestion that the ‘Healed Loony’ sketch should open the main bulk of the film (after the ‘Nativity’) was very sulkily received by John and Eric. The rest of us, including Graham, all remembered liking it and still liked it, but John claims he didn’t and Eric doesn’t think it’s funny enough to start a film with.1 Terry looks terribly hurt and deflated and says things like it was putting this sketch first that suddenly restored his enthusiasm for the film. But Terry’s enthusiasm can work two ways, and it was clearly only hardening John and Eric’s attitude today.

Well, fortunately for the meeting, the script and all concerned, we soon got out of this area and began to make some rapid progress with the end, which is now to culminate in a huge crucifixion musical number.

It’s interesting to know how people would react. We have de-Jesused the crucifixion, by keeping him out of it (although there were lovely fantasies of him saying to others in the crucifixion procession, ‘Oh, do come on, take it seriously’). Instead we have about 150 assorted