It's been years since I read my last Beatles related book, but Get Back last November evidently meant that bookstores now place more recent publications where passers by like yours truly can spot them, and thus I ended up with Craig Brown's One, Two, Three, Four: The Beatles in Time, which I think is best described as an entertaining collection of vignettes dealing not just with the Beatles but various people flitting in and out of their lives, with fandom, with hatedom, and with (some) biography. How it would feel to someone new to Beatles lore, I couldn't say. Occasionally, when recognizing from which previous biography or even interview some quotes hail from, I thought, good lord, I know way too much about these people. Otoh, there were some stories I hadn't come across before, or had not connected to the Beatles, like "the Singing Nun", Sister Luc-Gabrielle, aka Jeannine Deckers, who had appeared on the same Ed Sullivan show the Beatles made their American debut on. (Not a story with a happy ending, that one. But remarkable.)

Nitpicks first: Craig Brown can tell a story, and most of the chapters I enjoyed reading, regardless as to whether there was new content or not. Unfortunately, the exceptions to this rule happen relatively early in the book, though not to a degree that they stopped me from reading further. But they did irritate me. As I said, this is also a book about fandom, and two chapters have Brown himself taking the tour in Liverpool that includes the childhood homes of John and Paul. The description of the somewhat self important (in his telling) guides with their insistence that the stuff they rattle off to 130 000 visitors a year is "confidential, private information" that must not be recorded comes across as somewhat snooty, but it's nowhere as irrating as the "Brown takes a tour in Hamburg" chapter where he decides to write the dialogue of every German he meets phonetically, in "accent". I hate it when writers do that - not just when it's supposed to be a German accent, it's just as annoying when it's supposed to be a French one, a Scottish one, for for that matter Scouse - because it makes comprehending what each word is supposed to mean really hard for me, no matter how fluent I am in English. Also, I just don't think it's funny, which evidently it's meant to be.

(I should add here that later chapters, where he's letting various female fans talk, come across very differently - with affection for the women, who do most of the talking and looking back, and when they make a bit fun of their younger selves, it's a case of "laughing with", not "laughing about". But the Mendips, Forthlin Road and Hamburg tour chapters really annoyed me.)

On to the praise: Craig Brown often hits on hilarious, eminently quotable tales, and not just when he's quoting the Beatles themselves in full snarky, goofy glory. As I said, he also devotes some chapters to dedicated haters of the Fab Four, and none was more so than Anthony Burgess (yes, A Clockwork Orange Burgess), who wasn't just seething throughout the 60s but was still ready to fire off Beatles-loathing sallies decades after the band was no more, which tells you a lot about Burgess. (And yes, the over the topness of his hatred does make it funny.) Stories like the one about Ms Deckers which end unhappily are written with a matter of fact compassion, while he comes across as pretty even handed in his depiction (and selection of quotes by and on) such vivid yet controversial characters as John's aunt Mimi. (Opinions on Mimi vary from "Stern yet loving" to "vicious control freak from hell", with the later two voiced memorably by both Julia Baird - John Lennon's younger sister - and Cynthia Lennon (John's first wife).) He's also pretty good in showing how inevitably skewered everyone's memories inevitably are - as with the "Beatles meet Elvis" encounter which everyone involved later described somewhat differently from each other, or the "John beat up Bob Wooler at Paul's birthday party" tale, where the description of the reason for the violence and the extension of the injuries greatly varies not just with the describer, but also with the times (i.e. John Lennon himself gave various different descriptions of this incident to different people over the years) , with the biographers, depending on their own agenda, often adding to it (so unsurprisingly the version where it's a miracle Wooler survived is the one in Albert Goldman's biography).

Interestingly, Brown entirely avoids the question most people writing books about the Beatles get asked - "who's your favourite Beatle?" - but instead answers one for himself which I haven't seen asked before in fandom, to wit, if you could be any Beatle at any point in their lives, which one and when would you want to be? (Craig Brown would like to be Paul during his years of living with the Asher family at Wimpole Street ("living with Jane, cossetted by her family, blessed by luck, happy with life, alive to culture, adored by the world, and with wonderfull songs flowing as if my magic from my brain and out through the piano: I want to hold your hand, I'm looking through you, The Things we said today, And I love her, We can work it out, Here, there and everwhere, Yesterday") (Put like that, I can see his point.) Generally speaking Brown keeps a good balance between the four in the stories he chooses to tell - there are far more George anecdotes, for example, than in anything penned by Philip Norman - except in the last section, ca. 1968-1970, which is very Lennon centric, but very much not in a Philip Norman way. Chapter 140, which tells the tale of John and Yoko's encounter with Gloria Emerson (transmitted by the BBC), utterly skewers the former two simply by using their own words. It does some across as perhaps the most cringe worthy John and Yoko event ever, as they proceed to lecture Emerson, who had been a foreign correspondent in Saigon, was by no means a pro establishment figure and would return to Saigon to cover such subjects as the false American body count, the use of hard drugs by G.I.s and the effect the war has on the Vietnamese civilian population, on Vietnam and the effectiveness of their peace protests, and listen not to a single thing Emerson had to say. And the conclusion of that chapter is absolutely lethal. The most Yoko hating rant by a 1960s fan does not compare with ths effective dagger-by-quote without any bashing at all:

Years later (Gloria Emerson) said that, by the end of her time there, she had lost count of the number of young American soldiers she had comforted in their final moments.
Nineteen years later, in the December 1988 issue of Q magazine, Yoko spoke to the journalist Tom Hibbert about the legacy of the bed-ins, in which she and John had stayed in bed 'for peace'.
HIBBERT: Are those bed-ins something you look back on with pride?
YOKO: Oh yes. Pride and great joy. Those things we did were blessings. At the time we were doing it peopole used to sort of laugh at us - we were hoping that they would laugh with us but it didn't work out that way. But in the end, you see, it did have an effect. Last year when Reagan and Gorbachev had their summit and shook hands, I sort of felt, well, John and I did have an effect.

End of chapter. He's made his point.

On the joyful side of things, he's also really good at getting across the excitement of the concerts, the reason why those early press interviews with the Beatles felt so refreshing, witty and new, and the marvel of the ever changing music. (And is not above making fun of himself; teen him way very unimpressed by the Abbey Road cover, considering it a let down compared to previous covers, and had no idea it would be the most recognizable, most imitated and parodied Beatles album cover of them all.) And he finds some unexpected angles that do manage to paint a portrait of an era and a place through a single chapter, as in the one that compares and contrasts the 1963 - 1969 Christmas messages from the Queen to the ones recorded by the Beatles for their fan club. The framing Brown chooses to open and finish his book with also is new - well, not the opening, but the ending to correspond with it. The first chapter describes record store owner Brian Epstein using his lunch break to visit, with his employee Alistair Taylor in tow, the Cavern, where he sees the Beatles for the first time. The last chapter starts with the aftermath of Brian Epstein's funeral in 1967, and then goes back in time through Brian's life, each section earlier than the previous one, ending on that moment of the opening chapter where he tries to verbalize for the first time the impact the Beatles have had on him to Taylor. Brian Epstein is of course present in many a chapter other than these two, but by placing him in this way Brown doesn't just underscore his importance to the saga but also in a way makes him the pov. Which, given that moment in one of the Beatles concert movies where Brian says that everything the fans felt for them, he's felt for them - and there you have the key difference between Brian Epstein and, say, Elvis' manager Colonel Parker, to say nothing of Allen Klein - , strikes me as an inspired choice.

The Frankfurt Book Fair is one of the highlights of year to me, but it is extremely exhausting. You could wipe the floor with me right now, and there's still one more day to go.

On to the narrative. Before getting to some of the books I browsed through, here's my literary celebrity anecdote of the week. One of the most famous specimens we have of those is Harry Rowohlt, who is most famous for, in no particular order, a) being a great translator (English-German, and there isn't a tricky pun he can't master), b) doing great readings for which the bookstore owners and publishers need to have enough beer ready (he supposedly gets through the occasional sixpack per evening), and c) being a male chauvinist of the first degree. For some reason or the other, I had never heard him read before, which is the equivalent of never having been to a Springsteen concert when you're into 80s rock'n roll, so to speak, and thus I was resolved to remedy this lack and go to a reading. Of which he did several: he has the translation of Mark Twain's memoirs and of an essay and short story collection by Kurt Vonnegut out. I'd have gone for the Twain, but it took place simultanously with another obligation, and thus I ended up at the Vonnegut.

Now Harry Rowohlt as a reader is as good as advertised - deep narrative voice like a Hamburg foghorn, terrific individual character voices, and with his white beard and hungover face, he looks like a legendary seaman looking for his albatros, too. Being as good as advertised is a must to put up with him, though, as the male chauvinism isn't exaggarated, either. A female publisher friend of mine told me that her company once wanted him to translate something by a female writer, and back came the commissioning letter (these were the days before the internet, young padawans) as a fax with his handwriting on it saying "I don't translate women".

Anyway. Since he knew the late Kurt Vonnegut, has been translating him since decades, he was asked about anecdotes and what they talked about. Says H.R.: "Rarely something serious. When we were on the reading tour together, he was mostly busy hitting on the woman from Hanser" - their German publisher - "who'd been seconded to take care of us. She came across as somewhat shy and embarrassed because he was so much older than she was, and he said: 'Don't worry, the oldest woman I ever had sex with is my wife.'"

Said my female publisher pal that a lot of literary giants from abroad behave like this. She once had to babysit an author who wanted her to pick him up at his hotel room, and when she did, his bed was unmade and he said to: "Serious work took place here", pointing to the bed. When a (male, gay) editor friend of us heard this, he smugly commented that luckily this is a problem he never would have to face when babysitting foreign authors. "Not necessarily," I replied. "What would you have done if it had been Gore Vidal?" "I'd have said, You're too old for me, Mr. Vidal," he returned.

On a brighter note, today there was a truly gigantic cosplay competition, for which Richard Taylor of Weta and Lord of The Rings making off specials fame was the judge, and winners got a ticket to New Zealand and five days in Wellington with set visits. There was some adorable and very elaborate stuff, but the uncontested funniest was a couple of villains (Uruk-hai, Mouth of Sauron, Witch King, Nazgul) in search of a new theme song. By the time an Uruk-hai danced to the tune of Michael Jackson's "Bad", we were all in stitches. Also very funny was a group of hobbits and one Legolas who enacted a scene where Legolas takes Sam's wish to be like an elf literally and starts to coach the hobbits to move like elves, which turns into a funny desaster. Incidentally, the majority of cosplayers were female. We were all left cheering, much entertained and realy anticapatory for the filmed Hobbit. (The moderator joked that Leonard Nimoy's unforgotten face palm hymn, "The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins", would clearly make Nimoy belatedly the next Enya.)

And now for notes on some of the books I browsed through:

A short but creepy and intense novella by an Argentine author, titled "Wakolda", in which the German middle aged doctor developing an interest in an Argentine family with newborn twins and a twelve years old older daughter turns out to be Mengele. Mengele has been fictionalized before, memorably as a Hitler cloning ghoul in Ira Levin's "The Boys from Brazil" and only thinly, somewhere between fiction and faction, in Peter Schneider's novella "Vati" which was based on Schneider's interviews with Rolf Mengele, the son. And he's become proverbial for evil scientists. Whenever one shows up in sci fi, you can bet reviews will call him "a space Mengele" sooner or later. "Wakolda" isn't a thriller like "The Boys from Brazil", but it is very suspenseful because the readers know what Lilith, the twelve years old, and her family are unaware of, and as mentioned incredibly creepy - the author actually dares and pulls off a Mengela pov at times (the other times we're in Lilith's), and the chilling sense of dissociation, of not clinical craziness but the insanity of racism coupled with pseudo science when he contemplates skull forms and the degree of "degeneracy", and the implication of scenes as when Lilith says about her old doll she once tore off a limb and sewed it on again to know what it would be like and what the doll was made of, and "José" benignly thinks he entirely understands, is throat-constricting. Just the right length, too, because it's a novella, not a novel: spending any longer time in that mind would have felt unbearable to me.

Hunter Davies (editor): The John Lennon Letters. The good news is that the book offers both scans of the original documents and transcriptions, which since John's scribblings often came with little cartoons is a great advantage. The bad news is that very little of the collection is new. Of course, this only applies to nutters like me. If you only ever read one Beatles biography and/or one Lennon biography in your life, or none at all, then this will be all new to you, and it does illustrate various aspects of John's character very well: the love of puns, the wit, the ability to be very moving, or compassionate, but also the capacity for vicious over the top outbursts if he was in demolishing mode, and incredible paranoia. But as I said: if, like yours truly, you have already plugged your way through various people's memoirs and biographies, then the letters, post cards and even shopping lists (I'll get to that) will be familiar, and the only advantage is to have them all in one volume.

One reason for the relative lack of new material is that Hunter Davies seems to have gotten much of it not from the recipients but because a lot of it had been auctioned off and thus been scanned, photographed and otherwise put in the public domain. Or published in very limited editions, like John's postcards to Derek Taylor from the mid 70s which were previously available only in Taylor's hidiously expensive privately printed memoirs. (Since one of said postcards is the one - previously quoted but not shown in books like Peter Doggett's - that offers first hand proof John was indeed towards the end of his "Lost Weekend" toying with the idea of a Lennon/McCartney reunion in New Orleans, this was a kick for me.)

The copyright holder for all of this material is still Yoko, which brings me to another ambiguous point: the editing policy. Davies provides some linking texts but those are by and large disappointingly superficial. This becomes particularly grating where the choice of material to be included is only understandable if you're firm on your Lennon related literature, as is the case with the earlier mentioned shopping lists. Who aren't of any earthly interest - they're shopping list's, for God's sake! - and a casual reader must wonder why the hell they're included, except to provide some material for the later part of the 70s, and wonder whether there isn't anything else available. Well, the only bit in those lists that isn't about listing various items to be purchased by John's personal assistant, Fred Seaman, is a scribbled question whether Fred has stolen and sold John's boots as memorabilia. Why is this relevant? Because Fred Seaman was among the disgruntled Lennon-Ono employees to write a book, "The Last Days of John Lennon"; not available in print because writing it went against the original contract with the Lennon-Onos he had signed; Yoko also successfully sued him for theft of various items. Additionally to presenting himself as John's only confidant in said book, Seaman was one of Albert Goldman's main sources for the description of later 70s John as a half crazed junkie hermit and the John/Yoko marriage on the brink of divorce when he died. The only thing about all of this which Hunter Davies mentions is that a footnote that Fred did turn out to be a thief. Which works just on the opposite way it was presumably intended. I mean, I'm all for demonstrating that as opposed to being John's bff, Fred Seaman was an already distrusted employe, but this could be accomplished via quoting just the "did you sell my boots?" remark in an explainatory text instead of asking me to see John's shopping lists as valuable contributions in a letter collection, and then not even bothering to explain the point here is a counter narrative to Seaman's descriptions of John and Yoko.

To present actually interesting texts from the later 70s to match the earlier ones would be even better. But alas. The interesting texts end around 76ish. During the 18 Lost Weekend months and in the one, two years afterwards John had intensified and in some cases resumed contact with various family members in England - his older son, sisters, cousins, aunts etc., before it started to slacken again. And here, again, I can see why some of the letters are included because of the background knowledge, but Davies doesn't provide it in his editing notes, which simply inform us that after his reunion with Yoko and the birth of Sean in 1975, John lived a happily ever after for the final five years of his life.

Now, both Cynthia Lennon in her second book of memoirs, Julian Lennon in various interviews, John's sister Julia Baird (in her second book) and his cousin Stanly in interviews with various Lennon biographers all have painted a negative picture of Yoko Ono and quite often accused her of intercepting phone calls between various family members, including Julian, and John. The John Lennon Letters includes (as one of the few genuinenly new items) two or three letters by John to his cousin Liela who apparantly took him to task for his neglect of his older son; in reply, he accuses Cynthia, his ex wife, of preventing Julian to call him as often as Julian used to do during the Lost Weekend, of influencing Julian against him and of doing all of his to punish him for going back to Yoko because she wants him back herself. There are also some remarks about both Julian and other family members only contacting him when they want money from him.

Again: if you're aware of the larger context (i.e. the years of feuding between Yoko and various family members, John's claim to Feminisism being made questionable by being the worst divorce seeking and then ex husband this side of Charles Dickens and his hugely and acknowledged by him as such relationship with his older son), this comes across as a defensive move, to show other versions of the tale than the ones given by the Stanley clan and Cynthia. But Davies provides no such context.

(Footnote: mind you, even knowing the context John logic strikes me as, err, special. I have no doubt that teenage Julian sometimes wanted money from his multimillionaire father from across the Atlantic. Or that the cousins and sisters weren't quite the purely motivated by love innocents who were kept separate from John by his evil second wife as they present themselves; again, he WAS a millionaire, they were not, and the sad truth is that from Ringo and Paul, both of whom got and get on well with their family, you have stories about how even family relationships irrevocably change once you're the embodied trust fund fpr everyone. But when it comes to the who neglected/did not contact whom side of things about his son and ex wife re phone conversations with Julian, Cynthia has John's mistress May Pang to back her up about the fact it was John who had to be pushed and reminded into them, Cynthia who was eager to encourage contact between Julian and his father, and documented years of bending over backwards to oblige John as a defense against the idea she was using their son to punish him. (Another book I browsed through at the fair, Philip Norman's new Mick Jagger biography, includes a chilling little reminder of this courtesy of a story Chrissie Shrimpton tells, who was dating Mick for a while and thus once visited the Lennons with him. They were playing a board game called "Risk" when: "Cynthia was winning, and John started getting so nasty that she just gave up the game and went to bed. I remember thinking, 'She is so much under his thumb that she doesn't even dare to win a silly game.'")

Ironically enough, earlier Cynthia and Julian related letters and postcards show John from a far more sympathetic side. The collection includes not just the early love letters he wrote her (again, this isn't new material if you're familiar with Cynthia's books) and a letter about Julian from 1965 when the Beatles were touring America) that shows him tender, concerned and painfully aware he's not good at fatherhood, but a mid-70s/Lost Weekend era letter to Cynthia where he's downright relaxed and even joking with her as one does with someone you've known since literally your school days instead of paranoidly convinced she's on the warpath to reclaim him. There are postcards to Julian through the early 70s showing that if he had, pre Lost Weekend stopped calling, he at least was still writing, and trying to show Julian he wasn't forgotten. The most surprising element there, and this Hunter Davies duly notes, is that one of the post cards includes two lines from the much later song "Beautiful Boy", hitherto always assumed to be exclusively a Sean inspired song.

Also surprising, in a good way: John patiently answering fan mail in the early Beatles days (and it is his handwriting, which is where the reprints come in well), even giving the fan in question who evidently had asked whether the Beatles had siblings, the correct information about his two younger sisters, Paul's brother, George's siblings and Ringo's only child status. It's the kind of letter you'd think John would have shoved on some of Brian's people's shoulders, but apparantly not or not in the early days.

Not surprising, because I had read it before, but still good to read as a counterpoint to some of the other stuff: John exercising a rare bit of self censorship in the late 60s when asking Hunter Davies, who back then was writing the official Beatles biography, to take out again some negative stuff he'd said about his late mother's partner John "Bobby" Dykins, the father his half sisters, so little Julia and Jackie, back then teenagers, wouldn't have to read it and/or get teased about it at school. To my mind, that's far more sympathetic than his famed general let-it-rip attitude. Ditto also concerned remarks and questions about Astrid Kirchherr for quite a while after Stuart died, showing John not making that death into something only he was hurt by but seeing it as primarily Astrid's tragedy.

Most glaringly missing, unless my time pressed browsing at the fair made me overlook the pages in question: letters to Yoko (true, the eighteen months of the Lost Weekend aside they were always living together, but you'd think at least some of the correspendance from India in early 1968 when he was falling for her would have made the cut) and letters to Paul (or George; there are two or so post cards to Ringo) other than the public ones ostensibly adressed to Paul and Linda but sent not to them but the magazine Melody Maker as part of the musical and media blood bath of 1971. ("Who was right, who was wrong?" our editor asks rethorically and diplomatically tells us nobody can say.) Davies said in an interview that Paul declared the John letters he has to be private, which is understandable but means said public feuding letters are the only ones with a focus on the Lennon/McCartney relationship on the entire volume, which is a pity.

In general: could have been better selected and edited, but is still worth purchasing if you're a fan and want the publically known letters all in one volume instead of dispersed in various other books. I'm not sure that if you're not interested at all in either John Lennon and/or the Beatles already, reading will give you much, though, which is a great contrast to some other collected letters editions I've read. For example those of the poet Ted Hughes; many of these work even for newbies to Hughes's oeuvre, or for that matter the Plath/Hughes saga. Not least because they're far more thematically diverse and longer; someone brings up Wilfred Owen, Hughes comes back with a mini essay about the impact of WWI on the English psyche in general and on his family (his father was a veteran) in particular. Things like that.

This book fair also offered a good contrast, and with a focus on the 60s, no less, though the writer is nearly a generation older than the Beatles: the Richard Burton diaries, previously extensively quoted in both Melvyn Bragg's Burton biography and in "Furious Love" (book about the Burton/Taylor marriage), but this is the first publication of the diaries themselves. As opposed to the Lennon letters, these are properly indexed and footnoted, with a good introduction not only providing biographical background but also pointing out to the reader that it's worth wondering for whom Burton wrote his journals. Not only because he was far too famous not to be aware of the likelihood of postumous publication but because he was type of actor who always not so secretely wishes he was a writer instead, and because the diaries themselves prove that he showed them to Elizabeth Taylor on occasion, so they are part of their marital dialogue as well.

Those thwarted literary ambitions make Burton's journals from what I could see enjoyable to read. He has a talent for the mot juste (about co-star Genevieve Bujold: "She has the acting power of a gnat. Of a dying gnat."), is a good storyteller with a feeling for set pieces (the ghastly tale of one evening where Rex Harrison's wife Rachel Roberts becomes so drunk and appalling that the Burtons, no mean drinkers themselves, are genuinenly shocked, is very Edward Albee esque, interested in the people he observes, doesn't spare himself with criticism and manages what many a fiction writer does not: make an established relationship (the main diaries start when he's already together with Elizabeth Taylor) feel no less sensual and intense than a falling-in-love one. He's in various mixtures funny, tender, horny and never boring when talking about and occasionally to her, and there is no impression of passion lessening as the years goes on; their problems were others. He's also writing about their children, hers and his, on a regular basis, showing that superstardom kept neither of them from being involved parents. In conclusion: must aquire once I get home.

Speaking of getting home: I know I owe dozens of answers, but I won't have the chance until the train journey back tomorrow in the late afternoon, and/or Monday. But I will catch up with lj and correspondance then!

While trying to distract myself from worrying about dear friends:

...hang on. Did Fringe (have caught up, no, will not post reviews until the season is over) just make Yoko Ono/Walter Bishop canon?

...it did. You know, this this a 'ship that totally works for me. Also - "it was the 70s; what could he say?" (re: John) is the best statement ever.

...it really does work for me, because Walter strikes me as just her type. And vice versa.

(Walter/Hurley isn't a bad combination, either.)

crossoverman told me, and a bit of googling confirmed it: Lauren Ambrose joins Torchwood! The Six Feet Under fan in me is dancing right now. ( Spoilers for Ambrose's character description. ) People, this makes me so happy. The entire SFU cast was superb, but Claire/Lauren had a special corner in my heart. Also, every Whoverse show should have a redhead. *nods sagely*

Meanwhile, evil astrogirl2 pointed out to me that the phenomenon mentioned in my last post - good shows emerging from none too promising beginnings - actually has a tvtropes name (after, naturally, a TNG occurence): Growing The Beard. Reading, nodding or shaking my head while reading through said page, I finally collapsed in giggles when I saw they named the Beatles as a real life example. And that in turn let to the discovery the Fab Four have their very own tropes page: The Beatles. (And a separate page for their Crowning Moments of Heartwarming.) Which turns out to be one of the best things ever, containing such entries as:


Draco In Leather Pants/Ron The Death Eater: Invariably occurs during some of the more Fan Dumb arguments about whose fault it is the band broke up, usually taking the form of "Beatle X was a jerk whose solo material was completely worthless"/"Beatle X was the only sane member of the group and the others would have been nothing without him." John is a frequent Draco In Leather Pants, Yoko a Ron The Death Eater, and Paul is both.

Fanservice: Pretty much the entire point of Help! (see Excuse Plot, above).

The Obi Wan: Manager Brian Epstein, who died shortly after "Sgt. Pepper". Major subversion, as his death is considered the beginning of the end for the group.



Brian as Obi Wan is makes me suddenly wonder whether Ewan McGregor ever considered playing him. But "John is a frequent Draco In Leather Pants, Yoko a Ron The Death Eater, and Paul is both" is the best summary of the core fannish reactions to all three parties named I've ever seen. Come on, check out the page already, you know you want to. Just one further incentive: Alternate Reality Episode: "We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band..."

Speaking of Yoko, I came across one of the most interesting interviews with her I've seen. Unfortunately for much of my flist, it's in German. Why is it so interesting? Because there is only one John question in a four page interview (whether he was supportive when she lost her daughter), and the rest is about her art and her relationships with her children. The magazine interviewing her is Brigitte, which might explain the difference in emphasis (Brigitte's main focus group are women between 35-50; it tries to cover the bridge between housewives and professionals. I'm not sure about English or American equivalents - maybe Ophra on tv?). So instead of asking her about the nth time about the end of the Beatles, or how John would feel about *insert current day event x*, they talked to her about the very ambiguous feelings she had/has regarding being a mother (and a grandmother), and what creating art means to her. If you speak German, here is the interview.

For non-German speakers, some of the most interesting quotes. Bear in mind that is me translating something back into English which was translated from English to begin with.

Re: getting pregnant with Kyoko accidentally: I wasn't sure whether I could do it. This role didn't seem to be right for me. I first had to learn: this isn't something I created - something I can be proud of because it's my work - but a gift simply given to me. (...) From the moment I held Kyoko in my arms, there was this incredible love. But everyone who loves knows that it's a double edged sword. As wonderful as it feels, it makes you insecure. Love weakens you.

Q: And art strengthens you?

It strengthens me. I could always rely on my art. It's constant. When I am satisfied with a work or a song, I can let it go. It leaves me, belongs to the world, and yet also will always be mine. And I can always produce something new. This certainty gives me security and strength. But the relationship with children is different. You are powerless, often, as a mother. You can't do anything if someone kidnaps your child.

Q: *repeats for readers the story of how Kyoko at age 7 after a bitter custody battle was taken by her father, Tony Cox, and disappeared, only contacting Yoko some time after John's death* What scars does something like this leave?

It turns everything upside down. I hadn't realised the strength of a connection between mother and child until then. I missed her so much that it physically hurt. It was as if someone had cut out part of my body.

Q: Can you bridge such a gap in a relationship afterwards?

With difficulty. A lot is missing even today. But we have a good contact now.

Q: You're a grandmother now.

Of two sweet and beautiful grandchildren. But I can't really relate to them yet. Honestly, I still need time to work on my relationships with my own children.

Re: Sean, and sending him with a nurse to Miami after John's death while she remained in New York:

In all the chaos that seemed to be the best solution. I didn't want him to witness all the people grieving for his father. And I was very afraid someone would hurt him, too. So I sent him away for his protection. I couldn't join him then, because so many business and personal things had to be done. It was a burden as a mother.

Q: Do you regret such decisions, prioritizing your work?

No, I don't think there was another way. It was the best for Sean. But of course I wish I had spent more time with him when he was still a child.

Q: Did he ever resent you because of this?

No, luckily he never did. (...) We're the best of friends.

About her own parents: My father was a passionate pianist, but back then wasn't allowed to become one professionally in Japan. He came from a very traditionally minded family, and his way was pre-ordained - he couldn't fight against society and its rules. So he became a banker and regretted that for the rest of his life. I still feel sorry for him. My mother had a similar experience. She was a very intelligent woman who painted with passion and skill, but she nearly completely abandoned her art when she became a wife and mother.

Q: What did you learn from your mother?

To watch her fighting to remain an independent personality has imprinted me. I respected her for that. She always told me: "Don't marry. Never have children. It's the worst thing which you can do to yourself." I understand why she thought that way - becoming a mother meant the end of her own identity for her. She wasn't free anymore. I still didn't listen to her.

There is an older interview in English in which Yoko talks about her family background and her daughter as well, but I was especially impressed with the frankness in the Brigitte one.

Or, my thesis that Yoko Ono and Paul McCartney share more traits than hardcore critics and partisans of either are prone to admit.

My list so far:

1. “Usually soft-spoken demeanour contrasted by bossy domineering personality” is a description you find applied to both by their contemporaries (whether they mean this as a criticism or a compliment depends on the speaker) .(Meaning people who can't stand them describe them as control freaks and people who like or even love them rave about their iron-in-velvet strength.)

2.They’re workoholics, in contrast to John’s self-confessed laziness. The following quote by May Pang describing John and Yoko in 1972 works just as well for John and Paul through the 60s, minus the money part: “John was a man of great energy and intensity, but when he didn’t have a project to occupy his attention, he became lazy and could spend all day in bed, watching television. Yoko, however, was a non-stop worker. She was always spinning off ideas for new projects. To do her work, Yoko needed John. It was his money being spent, so when John refused to work, she could not work.” (You can see where the above mentioned bossiness strength would come in handy and would indeed been direly necessary in order to get anything done at all.)

3. They were confident and ambitious enough to come into entirely new group situations with clear ideas about things should be run, despite being newbie outsiders. Consider this description of (only recently turned)15 years old Paul’s first session with the Quarrymen after John had asked him to join the group. John and pals were all about two years older and had been friends for years, which could and should have been intimidating. However, to quote Bob Spitz: Their first official practice together, a Saturday afternoon get-together in Colin Hanton’s living room, was revealing. Paul blew in, full of enthusiasm, ready to rock. He knew more than a dozen songs that the boys had been eager but unable to pull off. (...) Such an extravagant outpouring did not go unappreciated. For perhaps the first time in his life, John ceded the spotlight without putting up a struggle. In another situation, he might have misread the situation as a blatant power grab; anxious about losing control, sarcasm would have surfaced to mask his envy and inexperience. But he was enamoured of Paul’s prodigious talent, so much so that all previous reservations disappeared. Transfixed, John squatted on his haunches, squinting, close enough to study Paul’s elastic hands.” If you compare quotes describing John’s reaction to Yoko Ono, and later of her showing up in the Abbey Road studios, the parallel is obvious.

4. They’re thin-skinned about criticism. Again, compare Jack Douglass (= producer of John and Yoko’s “Double Fantasy” album)’ description of recording with Yoko with Geoff Emerick’s of Paul in the studio - “Paul usually knew exactly would he wanted and would often take offense at criticism” (with John as the only exception and the person from whom he accepted it) – and they’re alike.

5. They seem to be good parents getting along very well with their children. Sean Lennon never talks other than glowingly about his mother; Kyoko (Yoko’s daughter from her second marriage whom she lost early into her relationship with John) contacted her again some time after John’s death and in what few interviews exist of her only talked well about her, too. Ditto all four of the adult younger McCartneys. (I think the only negative thing one of them has said was Mary mentioning it used to annoy them how he’d tinker on the guitar when they wanted to watch tv, which would lead to “dad, stop it” exclamations.)

6. For people who usually come across as smart, they do or say the occasional stupid thing that makes you headdesk on their behalf. For Paul: the notorious pot bust in Japan comes to mind at once. (Seriously, after several such incidents already, why carry the stuff in the hand luggage?!?) With Yoko, it’s the reply to a “how would you handle someone like Hitler without using violence?” question which is the most cringeworthy statement I ever heard of her. (She said if she’d been a Jewish girl in the 30s, she would have started an affair with him; ten days of sex would have convinced him of the error of his ways.)

7. Back to the positives: they’re good with business. This is often used as a criticism of them, btw, but seriously, I see incidents like Paul being the only one of the four to actually bother reading contracts and scripts, to question deals and later starting to invest his money, and Yoko brokering record deals in the late 70s as in their favour. “Starving” isn’t a pre-condition for “artist”.

8. While not prone to constant temper outbursts (not that it NEVER happens, but it appears to be the exception, not the rule) – verbal tantrums were John’s thing, not theirs -, they can on occasion deliver classic passive-aggressive verbal slaps. Choice examples would be Paul’s late 1969 reply to the question whether he likes John’s “Two Virgins” and “Life with the Lions” LPs (“I love John and respect what he does” which is as obvious McCartnese for “can’t stand the stuff” as you’re prone to get) and Yoko’s 2001 “John asked me why more people cover Paul’s songs than his and I said: Because you’re a true artist, not someone who rhymes June with spoon”.

9. On the other hand, they’re also effusive and unstinging with the praise when they’re in the mood and don’t seem to feel the need to qualify it. Also they’re prone to focus on the positive when reminescing about the past (and certain dead people) rather than to dwell on the negatives.

10. If you mess with them, they will take you to court. Ask Fred Seaman. (Former P.A. of John, one of Albert Goldman’s primary sources for the John-as-drugfed-prisoner-of-evil-Yoko-during-the-househusband-years story, made away with John’s diaries and some personal property, had to return all and apologize to Yoko by order of court before being condemned to 19 months in prison anyway.) Ask, indeed, John Lennon. (“Because I asked for a divorce? That’s a silly reason to go to court.”) (That was an actual quote. John logic was not like earth logic.)

11. Quiz Time. I’m removing a name from the following quotes. Are they a) descriptions of John and Yoko, or b) descriptions of John and Paul: ”After a while, they’d finish each other’s sentences. They’d grown that dependent on each other.” “Say the wrong thing, contradict them, and you were frozen out. A look would pass between them, and afterwards it was as if you didn’t exist.” “John and X were inseparable, like Siamese twins, it was as if the rest of us didn’t exist.” No, it’s not the Beatles and their entourage complaining about Yoko Ono. It’s the Quarrymen talking about that baby-faced intruder Paul McCartney. (The quotes are from Eric Griffiths, Colin Hanton and Charles Roberts respectively.)

12.Between their various affairs in the 60s (cue sexual double standard by a lot of journalists), Yoko’s discreet long term relationship with Sam Havadtoy post-John, Paul’s disastrous second marriage post-Linda and current relationship with Nancy S., one can safely conclude neither of them was made for celibacy.

13. They look good in their age but would look even better if they stopped dying their hair. Otoh the fact they do this but never bothered with botox or surgery and instead proudly own their wrinkles makes it oddly charming.

14. Retirement? What’s that? Why living of one’s millions when one can write and perform?

In conclusion: John Lennon had a type. Also, no wonder they navigate between competitiveness and wary respect since decades.

A quote I didn't include among my collection of contradictory John Lennon quotes, mostly because it's more of a JohnandYoko contradictory issue, not a statement, but it's a little gem nonetheless: on page 224 of her memoirs, May Pang, who, remember, worked for both Yoko and John for two years at the start of the 70s before becoming John's girlfriend, informs us: Wives and girlfriends were not welcome at John's sessions. Yoko had said, 'The studio is a place to work.' The result of her dictum had been an unofficial rule banning all women except her from the studio while recording was going on.

....

Meanwhile, back in the 60s: ever since Anthology got released, so did a lot of studio chatter. This is one priceless bit during Hey Jude rehearsals. "Err, Paul, it's very hard to sing this, you know." :) :) :)


On another note, but still in the survivors of the sixties club, there's a great review of Keith Richards' memoirs in form of an imaginary reply by Mick Jagger. Imaginary!Mick comes up with such great observations like "I thought we both learned that there is no point in sharing anything at all with the press, save for a few tidbits for the upbeat The Stones are back in top rocking form! article that accompanies each of our tours. I think Keith never appreciated the tedious hours I have to spend with Jann Wenner to accomplish that". Or: "I am forced into the role of martinet, the one who gets blamed for silly arbitrary rules. Like, for a show in front of 60,000 people for which we are being paid some 6 or 7 million dollars for a few hours work, I like to suggest to everyone that we start on time, and that we each have in place a personal plan, in whatever way suits us best, to stay conscious for the duration of the show."


Moving on to more fictional territory, the preliminary list of Yuletide fandoms is out. Babylon 5 didn't cut it, which I'm told is my fault along with some other suspects, but that's not fair. I so nominated it! Otoh, Crusade made the cut. So - new Crusade fic this year? (Hopefully not about Galen?) Also, Nowhere Boy and Two of Us are both there. If, you know, someone in theory happens to have a hang-up writing about certain people who are still alive but on the other hand can circumvent that by writing about completely fictionalized versions of them. Theoretically.

Merlin fanfic rec:

Portrait: of Gwen, that is, in her relationships with Merlin, Morgana and Arthur, respectively. Season 3 spoilers until Eye of the Phoenix. I love Gwen, and the author here captures her BFFness with Merlin, the changes with Morgana and the awkward tenderness with Arthur very well indeed.

fannish5: Name five historical characters whose lives you'd like to see adapted into movies or TV series.

1.) Hatshepsut, pharao of Egypt, one of the few female ones. (Yes, there were more than two.) (Though not many.) Now I'm admittedly biased in favour of Pauline Gedge's novel about her, so my ideal would be for that novel to be the basis of a film or miniseries, but I'd be fine with an original script as well, as long as it's good.

2.) The Dumas Family, consisting of Marie-Cesette Dumas (slave in Saint-Domingue, aka Haiti; had four children by a white French aristocrat, one of which he took with him to France; the other were sold to cover for debts, and Marie-Cesette died of dystentry) , Thomas-Alexandre, who upon reaching adulthood fell out with his white father, enlisted under his mother's name in the revolutionary army, served in an all-black unit in same, reached the rank of general, fell out with Napoleon and died when his son the author was only three years old; Alexandre père, entertaining novelist extraordinaire (aka he of the Three Musketeers and the Count of Monte-Christo), Alexandre fils (that's the one who wrote the Lady of the Camellias, which La Traviata is based on). A century of history via a family epic that could put Roots to shame; I'm surprised has filmed it yet (the whole family saga, I mean, not just Alexandre père's life).

3.) Frederick II (the emperor, not the king of Prussia with the same name who lived centuries later). Stupor Mundi, his contemporaries called him, the amazement of the world; Frederick was a religious sceptic, spoke seven languages, conducted the only crusade without bloodshed, entirely via negotiations, while he himself was excommunicated, and succeeded to the intense annoyance of the pope who had excommunicated him; had a great scientific mind, a terrible temper, was probably the first ruler to declare rape of prostitutes a crime (when it would take most societies a few centuries more to acknowledge there was such a thing) and unquestionably a tyrant in the modern sense of the word (ask anyone who rebelled), and co-founded poetry in the Italian, instead of Latin, language. Also he's one of those once and future rulers whom legend has returning in the hour of greatest need, etc., although the legend in question was transferred to his grandfather later. In short, someone with a gift for renaissance people in a medieval context should make the biopic or miniseries already!

4) Theophanu, a Byzantine princess who was nearly sent back to Constantinople because she was the niece, not the daughter of the Byzantine emperor and the German emperor who had wanted her for his son felt cheated. Lucky for the empire, he reconsidered, because Theophanu after her husband's early death became one hell of a regent, kept the various German princes in line (not an easy thing to do), introduced the fork to Europe and shocked everyone by bathing regularly. Despite an uneasy relatonship with her mother-in-law Adelheid these two women basically ruled the largest realm on the continent and disillusioned any ambitious wannabe who thought women couldn't and that there was time for a new dynasty.

5) Samuel Ibn Naghrela: also known as Samuel Ha-Nagid. Jewish scholar, poet and statesman, originally from Cordoba, eventually ending up as vizier and top general of Granada, the second most powerful man of that Muslim kingdom, a job he held until his death and passed on to his son (who lived a shorter and much more tragic life). Samuel's life is a fascinating part of Jewish-Muslim-Spanish history, and made for a cinematic treatment.


On a related note, about contemporary RPF and politics this time, after reading this review of Fair Game, about Valerie Plame and Joseph Wilson, starring Naomi Watts and Sean Penn, I definitely want to watch it. I remember reading that Op-Ed article in the NY Times, and the explosion that followed. Down to an interview with Cheney a year ago in which he's still sulking Bush didn't pardon Libby.

Lastly, skywaterblue, this one's for you. Sean Lennon, after being adorable at age 5, seems to be still incredibly sweet at age 35. Last month he said about older brother Julian that "Julian is the reason I started playing music actually" and "the truth is Julian was like my hero. He is still is". Today there's an article in which he praises and defends his mother and which contains a wonderful Yoko anecdote involving Lady Gaga as told by Sean's girlfriend: 'Gaga was killing it as always and everyone was standing on their feet and screaming. And Yoko was looking at this and she was like, “Hmm…” She was not to be outdone! So she climbed all over the piano – and she’s 77! And Gaga climbed up after her. They both started rolling around and singing upside down on top of the piano. It was amazing.' Just to round off the collection of adorable quotes, in that same article Sean says about Paul McCartney: 'I’m just so excited when I’m around him. It’s like when you see a white buffalo and you just hold your breath – you’re just hoping that it’s not going to end. Becaus it’s the closest I can come to hanging out with my dad. Every second I’ve ever spent with Paul has been really meaningful to me. He was my dad’s best mate for a long time. And my dad didn’t have many friends, you know?’

Awwwwwwwwwww.

The above is a John Lennon quote from when he was being quizzed about How do you sleep?; I thought I might as well get the post about the fascinating horrible trainwreck period of post Beatles-relationships (i.e. the early 70s) and eventual recovery (because I just can't leave it at the trainwreck, I'm too much of a softie for that) out of my system. First of all, though, an anecdote from 1968 which isn't directly connected to the trainwreck but describes one of the few times a tale from the dissolution stage makes me grin, and I need a bit of a cheer before I get into the gory musical bitchfest of 1971.

So, in 1968, John and Yoko become lovers. This leads to many things, but not surprisingly given who we're talking about, one of them is an album, Two Virgins, the first Lennon solo album. Which is mostly a sound collage, but that's not what it became instantly famous for; what everyone fixated on was the cover, showing John and Yoko in the nude. It's not an erotic picture and not meant to be; truth to tell, they both look slightly doped. The point, as John put it, was to show the honesty of Yoko's work, "naked, basically simple and childlike and truthful", and to show the two of them as reborn anew in each other. The rest of the gang was less than impressed. Said Ringo: "Ah, come on, John. You're doing all this stuff and it may be cool for you, but you know we all have to answer for it."

Paul's comment ended up as the sleeve note for Two Virgins and was somewhere between irony and admiration for the John-and-Yoko event: "'When two great Saints meet it is a humbling experience." The problem was how to get EMI to release it. A meeting was called between John and Yoko, Paul and Sir Joseph Lockwood, the head of EMI. Now you might wondering why Paul was there at all, given that he had nothing (sleevenote aside) whatsoever to do with the record and given that John's later presentation of the Beatles' breakup period was that everyone was against him and Yoko from the start. The explanation, as Sir Joseph Lockwood (usually referred to as "Sir Joe" by the Beatles and a gay old bachelor in both senses of the word) recalls: "I constantly saw Lennon and McCartney together because Paul always came along to see that I wasn't rude to John - who I can't say I got on with. Paul didn't want me to upset John."

In this case, running diplomatic interference between John and the rest of humanity didn't work, for the following dialogue, according to Sir Joe, ensued:

John: 'Well, aren't you shocked?'
Sir Joe: 'No, I've seen worse than this.'
John: 'So it's all right then, is it?'
Sir Joe: 'No, it's not all right. I'm not worried about the rich people, the duchesses and those people who follow you. But your mums and dads and girl fans will object strongly. You will be damaged, and what will you gain? What's the purpose of it?'
Yoko: 'It's art.'
Sir Joe: 'Well, in that case I should find some better bodies to put on the cover than your two. They're not very attractive. Why don't you put Paul on the cover instead?'

Sadly, not a single biography will tell me how the three parties concerned reacted to that one. If you're wondering, Two Virgins was eventually released through the EMI subsiduary Track Records, and the Beatles' accounting firm, Byrce Hammer, resigned in protest over the cover. And it didn't sell well. John was more than ever convinced that the world was a gigantic conspiracy out to get him and Yoko. And now fast foward three years.

If you want the short version, it goes like this:

John: 14564454 interviews on the theme of "everyone sucks but Yoko and me, and that's reality" (the best exampe for this is the 1970 Rolling Stone "Lennon Remembers" which is John at his most poisonous, not simply towards Paul and the group but really everyone other than Yoko. The only one who got a sort of apology later was George Martin who was told "well, I was smashed and I didn't mean it". Though John in his mid-70s and in some of the 80s interviews did admit he exaggarated and lied a lot in the 1970s stuff)

Paul: *releases his second album, RAM, with "Too Many People", a song to the theme of* "Fuck you. You'll rue the day you left me, you self-righteous bastard. Go on preaching your platitudes. P.S. I have Linda now, and she's great!"

John: releases his second album, "Imagine", which includes the song How do you sleep?, or: "The only reason anyone ever liked you was because you're pretty, you have no talent, you never did anything, I hate you and your music forever and ever, you're surrounded by syccophants, and also, you're totally your wife's tool. Why are you even still alive, you useless piece of garbage?*

(Sidenote: lines like "your mama tells you how to jump" is why I can never buy "Yoko made John into a feminist" claims. Yes, he talked the talk, but he never walked the walk towards anyone other than Yoko herself.)

Paul: ....

John: This wasn't personal, it was artistic. Or, you started it. Or, Actually, I meant me, not you. Or, hey, you started it!

Paul:....

John: I just realized that the guy I insisted the Beatles should have as manager is a crook and sued him, so you maybe kind of sort of were right about that. George and Ringo sued him, too. I'm not telling you this directly but I mention it in a couple of interviews, okay?

Paul: I'm cautiously expressing my relief about that in an interview. Also, I'm releasing a critically praised album that contains a song in your style that's a tribute, not a parody.

John: I've just separated from Yoko. Heading towards L.A. now for a long bachelor party of booze, drugs, hanging out with the old gang and getting kicked out of night clubs. I'm even mentioning you and the Beatles on the radio without including insults. Maybe SOMEONE should show up and intervene. Also, I like your new album.

Paul: How easy do you think I am anyway?

Yoko: I might have send John away because we were in a crisis, but I did make our P.A. babysit. Now it looks like he's going to settle down with her, which wasn't the intention. Also, did you hear about Phil Spector and the gun, and the getting kicked out of night clubs? In conclusion, help?

Paul: *packs for Los Angeles*

( And now the more detailed version. )

In the train back to Munich and busy typing my report on the last two book fair days (which continued to be very interesting), but I had to share this bit of news first, which requires some bit of backstory explanation and is the Lennon anniversary revelation/confirmation which suprised me most:

Yoko says Paul saved her marriage to John.

She says it here as well.

Now, if you've read Many Years From Now, aka Barry Miles' interview-based authorized Paul biography, the event she refers to will sound familiar, though what reviewers took notice tended to dismiss it as a Paul invention. After all, the official John-and-Yoko tale of how they reconciled after his so called Lost Weekend (aka those 18 months they spent apart) went like this: John appears at Elton John's concert, not knowing Yoko is in the audience, the two meet backstage, immediately realizing they're still in love, blissful reconciliation ensues. On the other hand, May Pang said that not only did John know Yoko was at the concert (since he and May arranged for her ticket, and since Yoko sent orchids to both Elton and John) but that John did not return to the Dakota and Yoko until months later, pointing out to her photos of visiting Disneyworld with John and Julian post-concert for visual evidence. (So far, so credible; unfortunately she then becomes somewhat less credible when declaring that John's eventual return to Yoko was triggered by Yoko swearing she'd discovered a cure for smoking and hypnotizing John while he was visiting. Otoh, "I'm only visiting the wife to be cured of smoking, don't worry! ...err, I'm back with her, do you mind?" sounds exactly like the lame excuse someone would give their lover if they don't want a confrontation, so said lame story might be utterly John's fault.) Anyway, neither story contains this bit from Many Miles From Now:

“When they split up, Yoko came to London, a little diminutive sad figure in black. She came round to Cavendish, and she said, ‘John’s left, he’s off with May Pang.’ So, being friendly and seeing her plight, Linda or I said to her, ‘Do you still love him? Do you want to get back with him?’ She said, ‘Yes’. We said, ‘Well, what would it take then?’ because we were going out LA way. I said, ‘I can take a message. What would I have to tell him?’. And she gave me this whole thing: ‘He would have to come back to New York. He can’t live with me immediately. He’d have to court me, he’d have to ask me out. He’d have to send me flowers, he’ll have to do it all again. (...) (In Los Angeles) I took John in the back room of the house, and I said, ‘Yoko was through London and she said she wouldn’t mind getting back together. How about you. Would you be interested in that?”

It's one of gazillion anecdotes in that book buried in more extensive discussions of the 70s, and not many reviewers noticed let alone took it seriously, especially since Yoko commented at the time (i.e. in '98 when the book was published): "Let him say what he wants to say. I know John didn’t come back because Paul said a few words, or something like that.” Given the hostile tone of that statement, you can imagine my surprise when reading the articles linked above, in which she now says:

"Paul told me he was going to see John in L.A. He asked what it would take for me to go back to John, and I said, 'Well, maybe if he courted me.'

"I want the world to know that it was a very touching thing that he did for John. He'd heard the rumours that John was in a bad way, in a rough situation, and he was genuinely concerned about his old partner... It was so sweet that he wanted to save John. Sure, they were two macho, very talented guys who had strong opinions, arguments, like most brothers. But when it came to the crux of the matter, when Paul thought John was in dire straights, he helped... John often said he didn't understand why Paul did this for us, but he did.

"John told me later he'd said, 'You want to know how to get Yoko back?'... The fact that John immediately tried to court me, and came back to New York, had some meaning."

Other than the difference between the two statements being the difference of more than a decade in Yoko's life and the last Paul-and-Yoko tiff being five years ago, with only peaceful encounters since, I suspect that one reason she might not have wanted to 'fess up at first was that she, John and Paul basically acted out the plot of She Loves You. Going by her statements in the Love documentary, early Beatles tunes weren't her kind of music. :)

Weird but interesting things you find on the internet, #256644: Revolutionary Chaos Tape, aka the transcription of a stream-of-consciousness rambling tape Yoko Ono made on June 4th, 1968, during the White Album recordings. Not easy to follow, and a good demonstration why supposed stream-of-consciousness monologues like Molly Bloom's in Ulysses are actually very artfully crafted, because there you never have a problem of understanding the transitions from one subject to another and the associations. But interesting because it's something spoken without the benefit of hindsight or the distortion of memory we all do when looking back at the past, and in parts at completely at odds, in part confirming with the image the biographies present.

For example, I'm not surprised Yoko is worried about her daughter (you know, the one who was never even acknowledged to exist in Lennon Naked), as in: "I’m very worried about Kyoko. I hope she doesn’t resent me when she gets older, about this incident, but things will be much better, we have to knock wood for that, cross fingers." But there is a hell of a lot more insecurity regarding the relationship with John Lennon than I expected, given that no matter whether the biographer in question is completely pro-Yoko like Philip Norman or anti Yoko like Albert Goldman, the impression is one of of utter confidence as far as Yoko is concerned, in both herself and the relationship. So colour me stunned to read that in June 1968 at least, she was jealous of Cynthia Lennon and afraid John would return to her. (Bear in mind that Yoko has Instant Love Of His Life status and Cynthia is The Girlfriend From Art College He Married Because She Got Pregnant.) It's one of those things that reminds me that events always play out differently for the participants during than we perceive them afterwards (with the awareness that John erased Cynthia from his life with lightning speed):

"If anybody in the world would know how I feel now, because I’m the most insecure person in the world right now. Is this what love is? It’s so unfair that you have to suffer so much for loving someone. John is not here, he went out into the hall. I don’t know for what. He’s out for a long time. I think probably he’s calling home, I don’t know. He’s been with her for over a decade and their other child, I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t want to think about it. It’s either that he had a terribly weak character or he was in love to her. I just don’t want to think about it. I’ve never been with anyone for so long so I wouldn’t know. If I think very hard, then I know, I mean I don’t even think I have to think hard, I just get so jealous about it I almost think I’m going to go insane."

And then there are Those Other Three Guys. Here in biographies we have a case of who said what when (the two extremes of presentation being "three male chauvinists can not deal with a strong woman in the studio" versus "ever-present intruder at John's side drives musicians crazy during recording process via constant interruptions", with some biographers going for a happy (err, not) middle), so it's interesting to have a Yoko pov pre-Beatles break-up of them and how she sees their attitude towards her:

"After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul. (...) And probably among those three people of George and Ringo and Paul. Paul is the one I feel the vibration, sort of sense it. You know, ‘cause Ringo and George, I just can’t communicate. I mean, I’m sure that George and Ringo, they’re very nice people. That’s not the point."

Err. "Because I belong to John" is not how I expected a feminist to phrase it, but oka, she's speaking of how she sees Paul McCartney's attitude. Though "I'm sure if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat" isn't exactly feminist, either. (Also interesting to compare with a 1971 interview with Peter McCabe where after a somewhat bitchy remark of John's about Linda McCartney ("The first time I saw her was after that press conference to announce Apple in America. We were just going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive, I wondered what he was bothering having her in the car for. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him") Yoko softens it with an intended compliment: "She's not the kind of woman who would antagonize other women. She is a nice person who is uptight like her brother, John, but not that uptight. There was a nice quality about her. As a women she doesn't offend you because she doesn't come on like a coquettish bird, you know?" Even in the negation, the "another woman is by default a threat" assumption is there, which I suppose is a symptom of the times as much as anything else. Also depressing, because I suspect it's not as much a thing of the past as one would hope.