DAVIES, robertson - Deptford 3 - World of Wonders by DAVIES robertson

Author:DAVIES, robertson [robertson, DAVIES,]
Format: epub
Tags: EBOOK_calibre, ENGL, novela
Publisher: 393
Published: 2010-06-16T22:00:00+00:00

4

In the days that followed, Magnus was busy filming the last scraps of Hommage in a studio near London; these were close-ups, chiefly of his hands, as he did intricate things with cards and coins, but he insisted on wearing full costume and make-up. There was also a time-taking quarrel with a fashionable photographer who was to provide publicity pictures, and who kept assuring Magnus that he wanted to catch "the real you". But Magnus didn't want candid pictures of himself, and he was rather personal in his insistence that the photographer, a bearded fanatic who wore sandals, was not likely to capture with his camera something he had taken pains to conceal for more than thirty years. So we went to a very famous photographer who was celebrated for his pictures of royalty, and he and Magnus plotted some portraits, taken in a splendid old theatre, that satisfied both of them. All of this took time, until there was no longer any reason for us to stay in London. But Lind and Ingestree, and to a lesser degree Kinghovn, were determined to hear the remainder of Magnus's story, and after a good deal of teasing and protesting that there was really nothing to it, and that he was tired of talking about himself, it was agreed that they should spend our last day in London with us, and have their way.

"I'm doing it for Ingestree, really," said Magnus, and I thought it an odd remark, as he and Roly had not been on the best of terms since they first met at Sorgenfrei. Inquisitive, as always, I found a time to mention this to Roly, who was puzzled and flattered. "Can't imagine why he said that," was his comment; "but there's something about him that rouses more than ordinary curiosity in me. He's terribly like someone I've known, but I can't say who it is. And I'm fascinated by his crusty defence of old Tresize and his wife. I know a bit about Sir John that puts him in a very different light from the rosy glow Magnus spreads over his memories. These recollections of old actors, you know -- awful old hams, most of them. Its the most perishable of the arts. Have you ever had the experience of seeing a film you saw thirty or even forty years ago and thought wonderful? Avoid it, I urge you. Appallingly disillusioning. One remembers something that never had any reality. No, old actors should be let die."

"What about old conjurors?" I said; "Why Hommage? Why don't you leave Robert-Houdin in his grave?"

"That's precisely where he is. You don't think this film we're making is really anything like the old boy, do you? With every modern technique at our command, and Jurgen Lind sifting every shot through his own marvellously contemporary concept of magic -- no, no, if you could be whisked back in time and see Robert-Houdin you'd see something terribly tacky in comparison with what we're offering. He's just a peg on which Jurgen is hanging a fine modern creation.

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