Betty Blue Memories

I went back to Leamington Spa over the weekend and, for some obscure reason, it triggered memories of Béatrice Dalle. Not the stunningly beautiful French actress has any associations with Leamo, other than in my head.

I remember going to see Betty Blue at the Warwick University cinema with my best friend Amy Gladdy. I must have been 17. I was in love with Amy at the time (sadly the feeling wasn’t mutual), but by the end of the film I was also in love with Béatrice Dalle. I suppose I actually fell for the character of Betty, wild, unpredictable and, ultimately, tragically damaged.

I think Betty may have even influenced my choice of women afterwards, drawn as I was to the unstable ‘femme fatale’ (or, more objectively, ‘fuck-up cases’). This was a joyless situation, as neurotic or self-destructive people are generally self-obsessed and fundamentally unable to form an equal partnership with anyone.

Talking of the Dalle influence on my taste in women, I have also just realised that my wife and ex-wife both have gappy teeth – just like Béatrice! Spooky!

Anyway, back to Dalle. More than any other actress, there was something about her that resonated for me. Perhaps it was the rebellious waywardness in her real life (I Seem to remember she was done for shoplifting) as much as her beauty, a flawed earthy beauty that bizarrely teeters on the edge of ugly at times. Sadly, apart from ‘Clubbed to Death’ and ‘Night on Earth’ I haven’t really seen her in any other film since. Maybe her stuff just doesn’t get released in the Anglophone world. Perhaps it’s a good thing, for her to live on in my mind as a timeless icon of teenage memory…

Kurt Vonnegut Changed My Life

I was saddened to learn that Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday. He’ll always be known for 'Slaughterhouse-Five', but I’ll never forget the impact that another of his books had on my childhood imagination.

When I was about 12, I have no idea why I chose it, but I borrowed 'Slapstick’ from the public library in Leamington Spa and it blew my mind. I think I may have thought it was straight Sci-Fi from the blurb – particularly the main character living the ruins of the Empire State Building. I discovered pretty quickly that it was so much more – both stylistically and in terms of sheer imagination. The narrative is episodic and non-linear, which was something new to me at the time. And Vonnegut, as he does in so many of his novels, threw out surreal amazing ideas left, right and centre – I particularly remember the entire Chinese population being reduced to microscopic size – so that, in the end, they infect people who inhale them.

Being a creative magpie, I began to work those sorts of motifs into my stories. I think Vonnegut freed me from my restricted expectations of what fiction could be.

His writing style will always stay with me – irreverent, bemused, very human and yet displaying an almost autistic detachment at the same time. He shifts our perspective on the things we take for granted in our society and reveals their absurdity. For that his novels should always be treasured.