Although the focus of this diary series is, and will remain, contemporary fiction, occcasionally another book comes along that deserves attention. One such book is a memoir by Antonia Fraser of her life with the late Harold Pinter, Must You Go?
The title alone grabbed me. Lady Antonia Fraser, from outward appearances, seemed to have a lovely life. An 18-year-marriage to a Conservative MP, six children, author of highly respected historical biographies and a wide circle of friends. While saying goodbyes at her sister's dinner party, playwright Harold Pinter asked her, "Must you go?" And both of their lives changed.
That was in January 1975. By February, they were desperately in love, both acknowledging their marriages were not fulfilling. By the spring, both of their spouses knew, and many of their friends. By summer, they were living together. And stayed together they did until Pinter's death on Christmas Eve 2008.
Fraser does not pretend that her memoir is a comprehensive portrait of their lives from that day in 1975 until his death. The book is a compilation of entries from her diary, a few contemporary recollections and some thoughts from other sources. At first impression, the account seems rather bloodless and passionless. This was quite surprising since the bulk of the book is from the author's private diary. But if the excerpts are just as they were written, Fraser displays an ability to aim for accuracy and objectivity about her own love life and family, including during times of great emotional upheaval.
As the days fly by, the press begins to ignore them and life settles into a steady rhythm of writing, research, public appearances, rehearsals, political stances and, always, family, it is the strength of their characters, principles and enduring love for each other, kin and friends reveals itself. And it is in the strength of a merged life well-lived, of caring about people and ideas, about loving poetry and literature, that the beauty of Fraser's book is seen.
Reading Must You Go? also shows what a sweet thing the outwardly fierce Pinter was, whether it was writing love poetry to Fraser, reveling in the role of Grandpa to the children of Fraser's children or not disappointing others while he was in great pain during his lengthy illness.
Pinter also remained active politically before and during his illness. Times they spent with Vaclev Havel or supporting Salman Rushdie are thrilling to read. While many people are nervous about being honest about social justice -- and we're in a period of seeing that slowly change even as great forces oppose it -- reading about someone who believed that you speak out for what you believe in is a hopeful exercise. Here is how Fraser writes about the NATO bombing of the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade in May 1999:
It is announced 'with regret'. Just one of those mistakes. Oh, so that's all right. To say nothing of a cluster bomb in a market, grandmas and grandpas bestrewed about, dead amid their vegetable stalls. This week has naturally been dominated by the war. Harold's broadcast on Tuesday was icily brilliant, pale (chest infection), all in black (natural plumage) and then he spoke the now famous words:
'What is moral authority? Where does it come from? Who bestows it upon you? ... It is power.' Then he clenched his fist very slowly. Letters are flowing in via the BBC. I try to persuade Harold to find some way of answering them. 'People feel powerless, so they write to you and thank you for speaking up for them. They mustn't feel they've reached another void.' All this time he has felt quite ill, but is resolute.
One great benefit of reading
Must You Go? may be the desire to read more poetry, spend time with Pinter's plays, go back to finding out more about the Velvet Revolution. And to quietly admire how, sometimes, it doesn't take fireworks on the page to bring to life the qualities of good people.