Eccentric

My first time in the UK was the summer of 2009. My first time in London. It was a very nice, first impression. Before, from my tens on, London and the UK was an English course book in a cloud of unbeatable incapacity to learn the language. London was a pack of red double-deckers, a promised land of gentleman and old ladies at tea at 5 o'clock, Agatha Christie, Paul McCartney and an endless countryside of green, green grass roamed about by Mary Poppins, Dick van Dyke and a couple of kids. That was England to me.

The world of Jimmy Savile -as I found out this weekend- was the England of my fantasies. I watched the documentary in the BBC and kept saying: "these times are long, long gone". However, that world was even dead before Jimmy, I realized. In a single look at the movies in the Public Library I found 3 or 4 like The Last of England (1987), on the same theme: the end of tradition, the end of English society par excellence, in the 60s, 70s or 80s. Each decade was supposed to be a breaking abyss, I don't know... .

Life goes on, nevertheless. My friend S. -a man born on November the 11th- is pointed me out for the last couple of years to extraordinary productions of the English as history or fiction dramas, series, sit-coms. The last ones, Jekyll and Sherlock, both BBC productions, S. highly recommends. These productions maintain the flame of what England is, as Jimmy Savile probably did... For me, subconsciously.

I discovered Sir James Savile this week and swallowed the pill of his legendary life in a sigh and a tear, shortly after his death.

It is never too late to underline a vision: the right and freedom to be unique, eccentric... . Even if Hell breaks loose.

Jimmy Savile, RIP (1926 - 2011)

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