Cynthia Anthony
asked:
Am I the only person who remembers Jim Hutton's appearance on a chat show in the early 2000's where he admitted that he only wrote the book to get even with Mary because he felt she had undermined his importance in Freddie's life in the public eye? Does no one else find Peter's Foreword in this book to be a less-than-glowing "non-endorsement" of the book?
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Mercury and Me,
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Nina Dolan
Yes, that happened. Also since then a 1996 interview was published where he essentially mentions the same thing and says that he wrote the book to “big himself up”
“What did Jim think might have happened had Freddie not contracted AIDS, and had he lived out his natural life span? Would their relationship have lasted? Would they have grown old together?
‘I doubt it,’ admitted Jim, sadly. ‘I was there for a purpose. The sexual relationship we had, which I knew full well had not been exclusive, had pretty much run its course by the time Freddie became ill. I cast myself as someone important in his life, when really I was only the same as everybody else.
I suppose if he’d still been healthy, still able to run around lording it and having the lifestyle he loved, I don’t doubt that I’d have been paid something and sent off.
Freddie [was] kidding when he called me “my man”, you know? Or making fun of me. I always felt he did it in a jokey way, quite camp, which he was, and which caused more than a few rucks between us. He was always joking around with his friend Peter Straker, and I know that quite a lot of it was at my expense.
I behaved like a spoilt eejit, I don’t mind telling you. We were like his court jesters, as I heard people say more than once. I resented it. I resented them. Because I had worked out deep down that what we were was a bit of an act, as far as Freddie was concerned. When someone called Freddie and me a “masquerade”, I didn’t even know how to spell it or what it meant. I had to look it up. I managed to find a dictionary in the house. … I looked up “masquerade”, and I was very hurt. Even though I have to face the fact now that they were probably right.
I cast myself as someone important in his life, when really I was only the same as everybody else.
All of us who lived at Garden Lodge – Phoebe the personal assistant, Joe the cook, me the gardener and the handyman and the fella who looked after the fish, as well as the others who came in each day, Terry the driver . . . were equally important to him. I was no more special than they were. …In the end, I was even on his payroll. A hired hand.”
I can admit it to myself. I bigged myself up. You have to ask why. After Freddie died, I was no one. I didn’t matter to any of them. It’s the reason why I did the book in the end, to establish myself officially as having been his partner. But I was like one of Freddie Mercury’s chorus line. However hard I tried to kid myself, I was not the love of his life.”
“What did Jim think might have happened had Freddie not contracted AIDS, and had he lived out his natural life span? Would their relationship have lasted? Would they have grown old together?
‘I doubt it,’ admitted Jim, sadly. ‘I was there for a purpose. The sexual relationship we had, which I knew full well had not been exclusive, had pretty much run its course by the time Freddie became ill. I cast myself as someone important in his life, when really I was only the same as everybody else.
I suppose if he’d still been healthy, still able to run around lording it and having the lifestyle he loved, I don’t doubt that I’d have been paid something and sent off.
Freddie [was] kidding when he called me “my man”, you know? Or making fun of me. I always felt he did it in a jokey way, quite camp, which he was, and which caused more than a few rucks between us. He was always joking around with his friend Peter Straker, and I know that quite a lot of it was at my expense.
I behaved like a spoilt eejit, I don’t mind telling you. We were like his court jesters, as I heard people say more than once. I resented it. I resented them. Because I had worked out deep down that what we were was a bit of an act, as far as Freddie was concerned. When someone called Freddie and me a “masquerade”, I didn’t even know how to spell it or what it meant. I had to look it up. I managed to find a dictionary in the house. … I looked up “masquerade”, and I was very hurt. Even though I have to face the fact now that they were probably right.
I cast myself as someone important in his life, when really I was only the same as everybody else.
All of us who lived at Garden Lodge – Phoebe the personal assistant, Joe the cook, me the gardener and the handyman and the fella who looked after the fish, as well as the others who came in each day, Terry the driver . . . were equally important to him. I was no more special than they were. …In the end, I was even on his payroll. A hired hand.”
I can admit it to myself. I bigged myself up. You have to ask why. After Freddie died, I was no one. I didn’t matter to any of them. It’s the reason why I did the book in the end, to establish myself officially as having been his partner. But I was like one of Freddie Mercury’s chorus line. However hard I tried to kid myself, I was not the love of his life.”
Cindy Abernathy
Well, I think you're thinking of what the interviewer said, if we are talking about the same chat show. The interviewer said, and you can watch it on YouTube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3zAN... , "it's been said you were really bitter about Mary and her throwing you out of Garden Lodge". He refused to answer that. He only said " You'll have to read the book". He had obviously been told by his lawyers not to disparage her on national television so he didn't. Although, you could be talking about a different chat show...?
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Oct 04, 2022 03:03AM