Friday 10 November, 2006
Holding the Man
Holding the Man begins its run at the Griffin Theatre Company tonight. If you live in Sydney, I would urge you to go. I think the season has already been extended to December 23 and is close to booked out.
The play - which I've read, but not seen - is based on the memoir Holding the Man by Timothy Conigrave that I contracted when I was the publisher at McPhee Gribble/Penguin. Of all the books I worked on it was the one had the biggest impact in me, though I can, eleven years later, see its flaws. The book is still in print after ten years, which is extraordinary. It has sold a lot of copies. It won a Human Rights award. Tim had an extraordinary ability to appear narcissistic while actually connecting with people in a way that was quite profound, without feeling at all 'heavy'. An example: the last thing Tim said to me, when I went into his hospital room after just having finished reading his memoir in the waiting room outside (he knew his dying would begin as soon as he finished it, and so he did) was 'Stay blonde. You look best blonde.' Then we laughed together.
A friend of mine who was a close friend of Tim's saw the play in preview, and found it very confronting. Here's an extract from the email I sent him.
'I didn't know Tim as you did - I got to know him too close to the end of his life for him to be available for intimacy with new people. And he was keen to keep the relationship professional. Nic Enright dealt with the 'messiness' of helping Tim write the book. But even given all that I still thought I saw him around this time of year (ie. the anniversary of his death) for 8 years or so. And I got very emotional when I spoke to Tommy [the playwright] about him a couple of months ago, and like you, was taken aback by how upset I was. I missed the funeral too - because of some problem with plane runways - and was circling over sydney in a plane when the service was on. Which was terrible and I still get sad about.
But let me tell you what knowing Tim taught me: how to die well. Because that is how he did die. Surrounded by friends, with dignity, and in full self knowledge. It was a privilege for me to see how well dying can be done. So, feel sad for you, and your loss. But don't feel sad for Tim any more.'
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