George Coulouris Memoirs


written by GC 29/1/89

I began to think about my life, complicated from its conception because I was a half-breed to put it crudely. I am still trying to assess its effect on my life and I have had plenty of time to do it as I am now 85, going on for 86 as they say.

I am half Greek and the other half is English pure blood lines on both sides. I am only now beginning to realise what that has meant in making me up. I ignored the Greek as much as possible ­ greasy Greek ­ who wants to be. So by the time I left my very good English grammar school, I was deeply and romantically attached to England culturally spiritually I learnt the greatness of Shakespeare his verse drove me wild, so much so that I pranced around the streets of Manchester howling out parts of Othello, to shut up abruptly when I felt someone had noticed something about the innocent-looking young man who just passed.

One kind acquaintance of dad enquired if I was alright so at 20 years old I revolted completely at the idea of passing my life in Irmston, the piddlingly prosperous suburb where my mother and I had badgered Dad into buying Oakhurst, Church Road, pompous address and I left one night in august 69 years ago, off to London to show the world the next great Othello. Now it's all over I'm beginning to see what was wrong, I suppose that's not unusual but I can make it clear.

The book will not be the usual crap written by actors about their 99 careers. I now realise what a miserable business I have been in for over 60 years. A business where I can't remember telling the truth about a job, a part in a film or play when I was interviewed for the prospect of the job too frightened of not getting it, and later on to protect my growing bank balance by not getting it, I listened to variegated morons give me their opinions of plays etc. which I knew to be assininely stupid and pretentious.

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