I thought I’d write about something a little
lighter-hearted this month and what could
be more light-hearted than playing in the
snow and ice. We’ve all heard and read the
accounts of how much Charlie hated the cold—insisting
on leaving Essanay Studios Chicago after
only one month (January 1915) at the hands
of old man winter on Lake Michigan or burning
his traditional coals in the fireplace at
Vevey even in the summer months. Lesser
known and retold are the accounts of Charlie
making the most of nature’s winter assets.
I keep returning to the European tour of
1931-2 because it seems like so much BEGAN
for Charlie on that trip—social consciousness,
coming to terms with sound, writing as a
creative endeavor and even the beginnings
of a tentative appreciation for winter sports,
especially skiing.
As
a Chaplin scholar, I owe so much to Charlie’s
brother Syd Chaplin for all the pack-rat type
of accumulation of papers, documents,
correspondence etc. that he compiled from
the early days of Charlie’s career. In
this instance, it is again Syd who provides
the best information on the subject. In
a missive written on March 9, 1932 aboard
the Suma Maru bound for Southeast Asia,
Syd wrote a letter to R. J. Minney, author
of The Immortal Tramp: The Life and Work
of Charles Chaplin (1954), about Charlie’s
tour escapades—a letter which landed nearly
verbatim into the periodical Everybody’s
Weekly shortly thereafter. In this “letter,”
Syd describes both his own and Charlie’s
debut experiences with winter sport:
“I
found Charlie [in St. Moritz, Switzerland],
looking well and madly enthusiastic
about skiing. It was his first season
and everyone told me of the great progress
he had made.
I was invited to go with
he and Mr. Citroën and party on
a skiing expedition the next day. We
started off in two of Mr. Citroën’s
special-built tractor cars, taking our
lunch with us, which we thoroughly enjoyed
in an out-of-the-way farmhouse, miles
from anywhere and well off the beaten
track of skiers. Of course, it would
be exclusive. This was my second time
on skis and the guide assured me I had
nothing to fear. All I had to do was
to keep my balance and put my trust
in the Lord. This was good advice, for
the latter knew more about gravity than
I did, having made it. Twelve of us
started down and eleven arrived. After
I came to, I found myself buried in
snow at the bottom of a ravine. The
rest of the party had disappeared. I
had visions of being left there for
the night and frozen to
death. I managed to pick myself up and
continue on. I arrived an hour later
at the station, just as the rest of
the party were about to take the train
back to St. Moritz. I was looking like
a snowman. Icicles were hanging from
my nose and eyelashes. Everyone roared
with laughter and I was the joke of
the evening. I had decided I had had
enough of skiing and would confine my
future activities to the bobsleigh,
which I did. It’s funny the different
fears that people have. Charlie would
not go down the bob run for £1000,
and no one could persuade him to and
yet he would go on night skiing expeditions
that I would not have for any sum and
yet I have not the slightest fear of
the curves in the bob run.” |
