SHARED OPINION
Ralph Fiennes's bottom, the rise of Jorg Haider and rebuffing Marilyn Monroe's advances
FRANK JOHNSON
For this, my first appearance in this magazine in this millennium, I realise that I should have an opinion on that about which everyone else has an opinion, or would like to be given one. Such subjects as Herr Haider; the candidates for the London mayoralty; the screen debut of Mr Ralph Fiennes's bottom. (That is, for the benefit of non-cinema-goers, Mr Fiennes's bottom in the new film of Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, not Mr Fiennes's Bottom in A Midsummer Night's Dream, which role Mr Fiennes has not yet essayed, though he will shortly play Richard II and Coriolanus in London, the last four words of the latter character's name presenting a further opportunity which he may or may not seize.) Instead, I find that the most interesting development of the millennium so far is Mr Colin Clark's revelation that Marilyn Mon- roe invited him to have sex with her, and he declined. Still, before going on to this mat- ter, it is best to deal with those others first. About Mr Fiennes's bottom no more need be said, however more may be seen. Herr Haider? I do not share the view of my fel- low conservatives that protesting about him is an interference in Austria's internal affairs, and that we should wait until he does something bad before we do anything about him. Such a posture enables left-lib- eral opinion to depict conservatives as 'soft on fascists'. Historically, in Britain, the Conservative party has been the guarantor against fascism, not something soft on it.
French conservatives, after the tumults of revolution, empire and restoration, were stupid enough to become diehards, caring only for Church and old aristocracy. That was not much of a redoubt from which to beat off middle-class, and later working- class, radicalism. Fascism is a form of radi- calism. Hence Vichy and M. Le Pen. But British conservatives, even before the Great Reform Bill, but still more so under Peel and the older Disraeli, were wise enough to incorporate the rising bourgeoisie, which the French ultras were not. Hence a bastion was formed in Britain as much against right- wing radicalism as against left-wing. Mosley's party saved not a single deposit in any parliamentary election which it contest- ed. The Conservative party is the best pro- tection against a British Haider. It embraces, and therefore neutralises or tames, the radical Right. If all else failed, the Tories would give a British Haider a Cabinet job, preferably transport, and ensure the swift decline of his popularity.
Nor is it much of an argument to say that Herr Haider has not done anything bad yet. Politicians send out subliminal messages. The message Herr Haider sends out to Austria's ultras is that he is really one of them, but he has to wrap up the message in order to win office in an age of conformist liberalism. Why else do they vote for him? He is a bad man and British conservatives have nothing to gain and much to lose at the hands of our own conformist liberals by giving him the benefit of the doubt.
On to the London mayoralty. If Mr Liv- ingstone wins in May, it will not do Mr Blair much harm. So those silly Conserva- tives who say they will vote for him should not. Mr Blair's only fear was that Mr Liv- ingstone would become the Labour candi- date. For that would have hurt Labour. If Mr Livingstone became the independent mayor, Mr Blair would outdo the Tories in traducing him. Unlike the Tories, because Mr Blair is in Downing Street, he would be in a position to do Mr Livingstone harm and reap the electoral benefit of doing so. Even if Mr Livingstone tried to do London no harm, Mr Blair and his spin doctorate would make sure that he did. Mr Living- stone as mayor would soon become unpop- ular. Mr Blair would see to that. London Conservatives should vote for Mr Norris.
On, at last, to Mr Clark and Marilyn Monroe. Mr Clark, son of the late Lord Clark, brother of the late Alan Clark, has made his revelation in the first instalment of the Mail on Sunday's serialisation of his book, My Weekend with Marilyn, which HarperCollins will publish next month. It was 1956. Monroe was in Britain to film The Prince and the Showgirl with Olivier. Mr Clark was an assistant director. For reasons too complicated to recount here, but which were wholly innocent, he found himself by Monroe's bed in the middle of the night. 'Hi,' she said. 'I thought you'd come. Get in.' He was then summoned by her bodyguard, who was outside the room. Mr Clark assured him that Monroe had commanded his (Mr Clark's) presence within. The bodyguard Classifieds —pages 60 to 62 consented, but with understandable suspi- cion, On returning, Mr Clark found Monroe asleep. `. . . my eyelids were beginning to droop. If I could first take a little nap, per- haps I could work out what was best. Slowly, cautiously, I leaned forward on to the satin sheets, and fell fast asleep.' In due course, she awoke. Being a female American, she told him her life story, discussed her psycho- analysts, and asked him whether he loved her. To which he says he replied, 'Yes, I love you, Marilyn, but I love you like I love the wind, or the waves, or the sun coming out from the clouds.' This seems to me to be, as lawyers say, a thoroughly unsatisfactory answer. Nonetheless Monroe did her best with him. 'I want to be hugged,' she said. 'I want to feel strong arms around me. I want to be loved like an ordinary girl in an ordi- nary bed.'
Mr Clark defended his virtue as best he could in the face of this sexual harassment. 'Like a Greek goddess,' he said, stalling for time, 'you can come down to earth every now and then, but you always remain out of reach to human men.' Monroe replied, 'I'm not Greek.' Mr Clark sees this as evidence that she was 'clearly confused'. But that passage about her being out of the reach of ordinary men, when she had requested an ordinary hug in an ordinary bed, suggests that it is not obvious that she was the more confused of the two.
It becomes worse. He suggests they set the alarm for seven o'clock to give them four hours' sleep. 'Four hours!' she rightly exclaims. 'Aren't we going to make love?' Mr Clark replies, 'Oh, Marilyn, you are a naughty girl. We are not going to make love, okay?' He then reminds her that she is married (to Mr Miller, the playwright). Mr Clark does not seem to realise that he was representing Britain. Many will feel that he let us down. What sort of an example is he to impressionable young men?
It is an extraordinary story. There can be only one explanation. She thought he was his brother, Alan Clark. Mr Colin Clark was the victim of his bearing the same name as Britain's national amorist. In earlier cen- turies, the same must have happened to men with the name of Kevin Casanova or Dan Juan. Nonetheless, Mr Colin Clark's conduct on the field of play has brought the game into disrepute. Let us hope that that dreadful night was not one of the causes of the victim's early death.
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