Under the Sun: The Letters of Bruce Chatwin

by Nicholas Shakespeare

  To Cary Welch

  The Radcliffe Medical Foundation | ‘Expanding the Frontiers of Medicine’ | Manor House | Headley Way | Headington | Oxford | 25 July 1988

  Dear Cary,

  We live in a time of new viruses: a time of Pandora’s Box. Climatic change is the motor of evolution, and the sweeping changes in climate that have affected many parts of Africa offer ideal conditions for a virus that may have been stable over many thousands of years to burst its bounds, and set off to colonise the world.

  The most pressing medical problem since tuberculosis is HIV (Human Immuno-deficiency Virus), vulgarly known as Aids. The word Aids should never be used by the medical profession, since it plays into the hands of the gutter press, and causes panic and despair: in France, not even M. le Pen could do much with ‘le S.I.D.A.’ There is, in fact, no cause for panic. H.I.V. is not a late twentieth century Gotterdammerung: it is another African virus.

  My friend, David Warrell, is Professor of tropical medicine and infectious diseases at Oxford University. He is one of the finest clinical physicians in this country. He has spent many years in the Far East, working in the field to advance the study of cerebral malaria. He is a world authority on snake-bite; but he has recently returned to Oxford to lead a team of researchers into HIV.

  As you probably know the virus constantly mutates and there seems little hope at present of preparing a vaccine. Excellent results have been achieved by the laboratories in describing the virus; but in the future we shall have to look elsewhere. The stable form of the primordial HIV must exist in Africa, and we intend to find it. The pessimists will say it is like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. The problem may be simpler: that of the archaeologist who knows where to dig.

  Once the stable virus is found, it may be possible to produce a vaccine. In any case, the answer will probably not come out of the laboratory, but from the field.

  The Oxford Team runs a two-fold operation. It has a programme of laboratory and clinical research based in Nairobi, the aim of which is:

  a) to alleviate the sufferings of those stricken by the HIV disease in Kenya and Uganda;

  b) to keep a watchful eye on any new mutation of the virus;

  c) to find the ‘primordial’ virus.

  Back in Oxford we have a most urgent need to build an isolation unit of twelve or fifteen beds, in which exceptional cases can be flown in, observed and nursed under optimal conditions. Of course, this would not be confined to ‘foreigners’: the exceptional case might come from Oxford nor would it be confined to HIV cases alone: any virus from anywhere in the world that showed peculiar characteristics would be included. The team intends to study dengue fever, lassa fever, rabies, cerebral malaria and fulminating chicken-pox. All this will cost money, but the sums needed immediately are not immense. The Oxford Team is expert in making money go a long way – although in this field of research there will never be enough.

  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

  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 Collection861 – apart from the fun!

  Love B

  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

  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 – love, Elizabeth

  To Ninette Dutton

  [Elizabeth’s handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 28 August 1988

  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 Hossack863 these days.

  Much love, Bruce

  Nin – 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 – Elizabeth.

  To Emma Bunker

  [Elizabeth’s handwriting] | Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 1 September 1988

  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]

  Dear Paul,

  Many thanks for your card. I am more
or less bed ridden and would love a visit if it was convenient.

  Bruce

  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. ‘He slipped into the mode of seriously pleased father,’ says Hugh. ‘He 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: ‘Bruce 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. ‘You really didn’t miss anything.’

  To Matthew Spender

  [Elizabeth’s handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 3 November 1988

  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 Miller864

  [Elizabeth’s handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 3 November 1988

  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

  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 Lewis865 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 Bennett866

  [Elizabeth’s handwriting] Homer End | Ipsden | Oxford | 12 November 1988

  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 uncle867 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

  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. ‘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 – all of them help.’

  To Nicholas Shakespeare

  [Elizabeth’s handwriting] Chateau de Seillans | Seillans | France | 29 December 1988

  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 – ?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

  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.‘Bruce 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: ‘Lovely.’

  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, ‘I later asked him: “What were you going to give Bruce?” “Gold.” ’

  Gregor Von Rezzori wrote: ‘When 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 Vöröspatàk.’

  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-page‘rave’review. ‘I 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, ‘In 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. ‘I 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

  This book could not have been completed without the assistance of Hugh Chatwin. We are enormously grateful to him for his patience, explications and insights, particularly into his brother’s early years.

  We would like to express our immense gratitude to the following: Nigel Acheson, Peter Adam, Gillon Aitken, Stella Astor, Margaret Bail, Murray Bail, the late Monica Barnett, Magnus Bartlett, Andrew Batey, the late Pam Bell, Sarah Bennett, Ray Boulton, Bob Brain, Peter Bratt, the late Gerald Brenan, Clarence Brown, Bill Buford, Richard Bull, Emma Bunker, Roberto Calasso, Michael Cannon, the late Gertrude Chanler, the late Charles and Margharita Chatwin, Lisa Choeygal, Susannah Clapp, the late Michael Davie, the late Ninette Dutton, Tisi Dutton, Jean-Claude Fasquelle, the late John Fleming, Belinda Foster-Melliar, Ivry Freyberg, Valerian Freyberg, Sven Gahlin, Phillippe Garner, Greg Gatenby, Graham C. Greene, Curtis Harnack, Harriet Harvey-Wood, Shirley Hazzard, the late John Hewett, the late Derek Hill, Hugh Honour, James Ivory, Bill Katz, David King, Robin Lane Fox, the late Joan Leigh Fermor, Patrick Leigh Fermor, the late Peter Levi, Lydia Livingstone, Ted Lucie-Smith, Candida Lycett Greene, Christopher MacLehose, Harry M
arshall, Tom Maschler, David Mason, Candida Melly, Diana Melly, David Miller, Jonathan Miller, Keith Milow, Beatrice Monti, Desmond Morris, Anne-Marie Mykyta, George Ortiz, John Pawson, the late Edward Peregrine, John Peregrine, Lynda Pranger, Robyn Ravlich, the late Gregor Von Rezzori, Tegai Roberts, Deborah Rogers, Alison and Brendan Rosse, Hannah Rothschild, Miranda Rothschild, Salman Rushdie, Millicent Jane Saunders, Toly Sawenko, Sunil Sethi, Elisabeth Sifton, Jim Silberman, Peter Smetacek, the late Susan Sontag, Matthew Spender, Kath Strehlow, David Sulzberger, the late Stephen Tennant, Paul Theroux, David Thomas, Colin Thubron, Charles and Brenda Tomlinson, Penelope Tree, Petronella Vaarzon-Morel, Kallistos Ware, David Warrell, Charles Way, the late Cary Welch, Edith Welch, Martin Wilkinson, the late Peter Willey, J. Howard Woolmer, Andrew Wylie, Francis Wyndham, Jorge Torres Zavaleta.

  We would like to thank the editors of The London Review of Books for permission to reproduce Chatwin’s letter of 7 July 1988 (Vol.10, Issue 13).