Any contribution, however small, will be most welcome. In the UK there are a number of ways in which donations can receive tax relief. This will vary from case to case and the manner in which the donation is given. For any further information would you please contact Mr David Davies of the Radcliffe Medical Foundation, Manor House, Headley Way, Headington, Oxford OX39DZ to whom all contributions should be sent?
I would like to think of this letter as an endless chain. If you have friends or relations who you think would be interested, I would gladly send it to them.
love Bruce
To Gertrude Chanler
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 16 August 1988
Â
Dear Gertrude,
Elizabeth came back worried about our nephew, Kevin.
860
From the sound of it, I think he should take an art course, preferably the Sotheby Art Course in N[ew] Y[ork]. These tend to get overbooked, but I think I can fix it with David Nash. He can then decide if he wants to go on in the art business or take a higher degree. In any case he would be an invaluable ally in reforming the Laughlin Collection
861
â apart from the fun!
Love B
Â
Dear Mummy,
As you can see this was dictated. Makes perfectly good sense except for the end. Still grandiose. The pills are working a bit but it's slow. Am now trying to prevent wild travel schemes. I will try and pay my air fare with the travellers checks I brought over if the agent will accept them. Will need money to send him to Athos but can probably get it from my mutual fund. If it takes too long can I borrow it from you?
Haven't got a nurse yet, but hoping for something to turn up. Have a one day a week girl who lives less than 2 miles away. Have started taking lambs to kill and hope to get on with it in the next few weeks. Elizabeth.
To Murray Bail
[Elizabeth's handwriting] | Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 28 August 1988
Â
Dear Murray,
You must forgive me if I don't quite subscribe to your view of yourself as an ungenerous, selfish intolerant old codger. The best bit of news in the entire letter was the fact that you say the divorce is very far off.
862
By the time you've lived through this for a year or 2, you'll be back again in each other's arms. On the other hand, I do see the need for a change of scene and that you must unclutter yourself from Australia by coming, not Lord knows to Tuscany, but by living somewhere which you can then write about, not as an Australian, but as a kind of world citizen. Being Australian, I do see, is very specific. My book
Utz
is nearly out and a copy follows under separate cover. All my love to you both,
Bruce
He's still incredibly weak and immobilised. I wrote to his dictation. I really hope we'll be able to make it in the winter but he certainly couldn't do anything at the moment. We may be starting a new form of therapy tomorrow and I hope they'll take him on and that there's a chance of success â love, Elizabeth
To Ninette Dutton
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 28 August 1988
Â
Dearest Nin,
I haven't really been sick except that I had undiagnosed malaria for 13½ months and the fungus came back, necessitating a blood transfusion and the nurse put blood straight from the fridge into my system, thereby
completely
screwing up the nerves in my legs and hands. I am much better but it is incredibly slow to repair anything to do with the nervous system. I hope to be much better by the winter and we're both looking forward to coming to Australia. Any chance of being able to stay with you for an extended period? I hope to be writing again by then.
We see a lot of Rebecca Hossack
863
these days.
Much love, Bruce
Â
Nin â I wrote this at his dictation. I just hope he will be able to travel. We are embarking on a new course of therapy/alternative medicine this week to see if they can do anything to strengthen him and get the nerves repaired. Pray for him â Elizabeth.
To Emma Bunker
[Elizabeth's handwriting] | Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 1 September 1988
Â
Dear Emmy,
You can study nomads in the Inner Mongolian milieu. You can also catch outrageous diseases in the same area.
I caught a fungus of the bone marrow which is presumably in Yunnan Mongolia and Tibet. It was otherwise known from 10 Chinese corpses. I was the only European.
As to HIV, the situation is much less of a problem here than in America because people have learned not to be hysterical. Many people seem to move from HIV negative to positive without any medication.
In France they are even more advanced. A man called Jean Franchome has even developed a vaccine from the people who have recovered. I hope I have got his name right. But if you are interested I can find out much more about him.
I shall be in San Francisco shortly after Christmas on our way to Australia.
Much love,
Bruce [
his handwriting
]
To Paul Theroux
[Elizabeth's handwriting] | Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | [October 1988]
Â
Dear Paul,
Many thanks for your card. I am more or less bed ridden and would love a visit if it was convenient.
Bruce
Â
Utz
, which Chatwin had managed to write during his remission in 1987, was published on 22 September. Few readers appreciated it more than Charles Chatwin. âHe slipped into the mode of seriously pleased father,' says Hugh. âHe remarked: “A real gem of a book. The surprise is to find out that what has been holding you is a love story.” ' The novel was one of six shortlisted for the 1988 Booker Prize, along with Salman Rushdie's
The Satanic Verses.
Tom Maschler wrote to Gillon Aitken: âBruce as you know is determined to be present at the Booker Prize dinner.' He wished to bring along Elizabeth, Diana Melly, Kevin Volans and Roger Clarke. On the afternoon of 25 October Chatwin was telephoned with advance information that he had not won and should spare himself the journey to that evening's televised dinner at the Guildhall (where the prize was awarded to Peter Carey for
Oscar and Lucinda
). On 27 October Maschler sent Chatwin a bound copy of
Utz
as a souvenir of the event. âYou really didn't miss anything.'
To Matthew Spender
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 3 November 1988
Â
Dear Matthew, Thanks for your communications, always encouraging when one is a bit low. I'm afraid I can't get very worked up about the Booker & just try to go on producing my strange books. Obviously I'm taking a year's respite at present. Love to Maro.
Bruce [
his handwriting
]
To David Miller
864
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 3 November 1988
Â
It simply doesn't matter about the Booker because it's a complete lottery. I wish I remembered you in your cot, but I can't say that I do. Thank you for writing.
Yours sincerely, Bruce Chatwin.
To Charles Way
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 10 November 1988
Â
Dear Charlie,
I am not that unwell but owing to a bad blood transfusion I am numb in my hands and quite unable to use my legs.
The most that can be said about the Booker prize nomination is that it passed off. I was advised at the last minute not to go and it was one of the best pieces of advice I have had recently.
I have always had an idea Alun Lewis
865
must be a very moving poet and have taken your tip and ordered his work from the bookshop.
I look forward to see you before too long.
Best regards, Bruce
To Sarah Bennett
866
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 12 November 1988
Â
Dear Sarah,
I am not as ill as all that, but I don't have the use of my legs having had a unit of blood at refrigerated temperature in the course of a transfusion
It is strange to think of you living on the doorstep of my childhood haunts. We lived at Tamworth-in-Arden. My old great uncle
867
was the architect in charge of the Beauchamp Chapel which is where I got my feeling for history.
It would be really nice to see you sometime.
with love Bruce
Â
On 20 November Chatwin left England for the last time, returning to the Chateau de Seillans. He started making notes for his Russian novel, but he was becoming daily more resistant to remedies. On 19 December Elizabeth wrote to Kath Strehlow on his behalf to say that he was unable, after all, to write the foreword for her late husband's
Songs of Central Australia. â
He is really too weak & ill
to do anything. We've come here as it's warmer & brighter than England in the winter & he loves being away from there. He dictates to me occasionally the beginning of a new book but hasn't the energy to do anything else. He is having some treatment from a doctor in Paris, which at first after an intensive 2 weeks of non-stop IVs had a very good effect. However, a lot of that has now worn off & he's very depressed . . . Keep up the prayers â all of them help.'
To Nicholas Shakespeare
[Elizabeth's handwriting] Chateau de Seillans | Seillans | France | 29 December 1988
Â
Your pretty p/c from Morocco arrived 2 days ago. So what's so awful about writing another book. You can't escape your vocation. What is the publication date of
Maria
â ?
868
We are here till mid-March with a trip for medication in Paris at some stage. It's wonderfully warm and sunny & certainly improves one's mood. Love, Bruce and Elizabeth
Â
Early in the New Year Chatwin was taken for another transfusion to the Sunny Bank Anglo-American Hospital in Cannes. The remainder of the time he stayed at the Chateau de Seillans in a former priest's room with a barrel-vaulted ceiling on the ground floor leading to the terrace. In the first week of January he invited Werner Herzog to Seillans.âBruce said; “Werner, I'm dying.”And I said, “Yes, I'm aware of that.”And then he said: “You must carry my rucksack, you are the one who must carry it.”'
Another visitor was Kevin Volans who played him the
Songlines
string quartet which had premiered at the Lincoln Centre in New York in November. The white fungus in Chatwin's mouth made speaking difficult. He was incontinent, thin, exhausted by coughing. All he could say was: âLovely.'
Shirley Conran arrived the same afternoon; Francis Wyndham and the Mellys the next day, Saturday 14 January. Also at Seillans was a homeopathic doctor from London, David Curtin. Elizabeth had contacted Curtin to oversee Chatwin's return to England. She hoped to fly back with Chatwin on Monday and put him in The Lighthouse, an Aids hospice off Ladbroke Grove, where Curtin could treat him. She says, âI later asked him: “What were you going to give Bruce?” “Gold.” '
Gregor Von Rezzori wrote: âWhen he was on his deathbed and even phone conversations exhausted him he couldn't take my last call. His wife Elizabeth offered to pass on a message. I asked her to tell him from me: Schemnitz Chemnitz Nagybanya Ofenbanya Vöröspatà k.'
Chatwin deteriorated fast. He spent most of Sunday 15 January, his last day conscious, lying on the terrace. Teddy Millington-Drake telephoned from Italy to tell Shirley Conran that Alberto Moravia had loved
Utz
and written a full-pageârave'review. âI went straight and told Bruce and he gave a long slow smile and he just said: “Better than the Booker.” ' When the sun went in that afternoon, it grew cold very quickly. Elizabeth carried Chatwin inside and lay him on their bed.
Elizabeth says, âIn the middle of the night he started making this terrible noise. I said, “Bruce, Bruce, turn your head,” but he was unconscious. He'd gone into a coma.'
He never regained consciousness. He was taken by ambulance to the state hospital in Nice, where he died at 1.30 p.m. on Wednesday 18 January, four months short of his forty-ninth birthday.
On 20 January 1989 Elizabeth arranged for Chatwin to be cremated in Nice. âI had a Greek service at the crematorium and a service at my church in Watlington and a memorial service at the Greek Orthodox Cathedral of Santa Sophia in Bayswater, which everybody came to.'
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS