Something in the way she wroteMay 5, 2007
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When a young Beatles fan wrote to George Harrison in 1963, she scarcely expected a reply. But a letter did come back - from his mother. It was the start of an extraordinary correspondence, writes Lilie Ferrari.
IN 1963, I WAS 14 AND, LIKE almost every girl in Britain, I fell in love with a Beatle. "My" Beatle was George Harrison. From the first photograph I saw of the Fab Four, I was drawn to his dark eyes, serious face and enigmatic demeanour. He rarely smiled, even when he was being funny, and this made him all the more mysterious and enticing. Compared to the uncouth boys I had to deal with at school every day, George was a delicate, idealised vision of what I thought boys ought to be like. If he had pimples, I never saw them. If he swore, I never heard it. I never saw his hair greasy, his armpits damp, his shoes scuffed.
In short, he was perfect.
When a young Beatles fan wrote to George Harrison in 1963, she scarcely expected a reply. But a letter did come back - from his mother. It was the start of an extraordinary correspondence, writes Lilie Ferrari.
IN 1963, I WAS 14 AND, LIKE almost every girl in Britain, I fell in love with a Beatle. "My" Beatle was George Harrison. From the first photograph I saw of the Fab Four, I was drawn to his dark eyes, serious face and enigmatic demeanour. He rarely smiled, even when he was being funny, and this made him all the more mysterious and enticing. Compared to the uncouth boys I had to deal with at school every day, George was a delicate, idealised vision of what I thought boys ought to be like. If he had pimples, I never saw them. If he swore, I never heard it. I never saw his hair greasy, his armpits damp, his shoes scuffed.
In short, he was perfect.
1 comment:
This is exasperating!!! wha! wah!
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