Issue 25 – August 24, 1972 to December 31, 1972
This issue starts just after the death of Mary’s father, with Krishnaji and Mary arriving at Brockwood Park from Paris. In addition to speaking to students and staff, Mary records dialogues between Krishnaji and David Bohm.
Mid-October sees a brief visit to Rome by Krishnaji and Mary before they separate for the winter; Mary returns to the US and Krishnaji flies to India.
The series has an interesting reference to Krishnaji’s attempt to address Mary’s habits of tension through, in his words, “speaking to her unconscious”. This is a theme that recurs in diaries and letters.
The Memoirs of Mary Zimbalist: Issue #25
Mary: So, I have it noted here that we finished our last discussion on the twenty-third of August, 1972.
Scott: Yes, so we’re beginning on the twenty-fourth of August.
M: And my notes for that day are entirely about my father’s death and what came afterwards.
S: Of course.
M: ‘My brother and his wife were there and my father’s funeral took place on the twenty-fifth.’ I wrote a lot about that. ‘We walked back after the funeral, which was in the morning, to the Plaza Athénée and Krishnaji joined us for lunch. My brother and his wife were going to return to the U.S. shortly, and Krishnaji and I left in the car at 4 p.m. for Le Havre, driving without haste. I was glad to be gone from Paris and its sadness. We had supper at a restaurant in Le Havre called Le Monaco, and boarded the Normandy ferry.’
On the twenty-sixth, ‘we arrived at Southampton early and were at Brockwood in time for breakfast. We unpacked slowly and walked in the afternoon with Dorothy and Whisper. It was peaceful, beautiful, and quiet there.’
The next day was also quiet, with long naps.
The next several days are just walking, Krishnaji washing the car, and things like that.
On August thirty-first, ‘it was another beautiful day. Krishnaji and I took a picnic and drove to Chichester Festival Theatre. We had a picnic lunch in the car, and then saw a matinee performance of The Lady’s Not for Burning. Tickets were got for us by Christopher and Phyl Fry. Afterward, we drove back to Brockwood through golden fields that had just been harvested.’
On September first, ‘we worked on the interrogatories’—this is part of a lawsuit, these endless written questions that the opposing force’s lawyers send you, and you have to fill out. ‘We walked in the afternoon.’
S: Do you remember where you were walking in those days?
M: It depended on how long we set out to walk, but we usually walked across the fields and through the grove, then across the next field, then down to the lane and back. Not always. But it varied.
On September second, ‘there was news of a fire at Ojai, and we sent a telegram to the Lilliefelts to make sure they were alright.’
On September fourth, ‘we went to London, from Petersfield. There were Huntsman fittings for both of us. And Mary Links, having just returned from holiday in Asola, lunched with us at Fortnum’s. Krishnaji had a dentist appointment with Mr. Thompson, and I bought him a red cashmere throw for his room.’ What happened to that?
S: I don’t have it.
M: It was beautiful. I guess it burned up in the fire. This is pre-fire. Isn’t it?
S: Yes, it’s pre-fire, but it wouldn’t have burned up in the fire.
M: It used to lie on that bench that’s now down in the drawing room.
S: I remember.
M: It used to lie at the foot of his bed. It was a lovely red, cashmere…Anyway…I haven’t seen it in years.
On September fifth, ‘Arab terrorists seized the Israeli Olympic athletes and held them prisoner all day in Munich.’ This was obviously on television. ‘Colonel Noyes arrived suddenly from California, bringing settlement talk from Rajagopal. Krishnaji and I saw him after lunch. Noyes said that Rajagopal would turn over 80 percent of KWINC, keeping 20 percent to carry on publications and the library project. Krishnaji told Noyes that had he known that Rajagopal was a Theosophist all these years, he would never have let him touch his writing and would have asked him to get out of KWINC. We both said that if Rajagopal has a settlement suggestion to make, it must be made through his lawyers to ours. All this upset Krishnaji’s stomach.’
S: Mm, hm.
M: The next day, ‘we learned that the Arabs had shot all the Israeli Olympic hostages. Krishnaji was moved to tears by all this. He sent for Noyes and told him that what Rajagopal is doing is similar—lies and violence. Noyes said he had telephoned Rajagopal last night, and Rajagopal asked him to write to him his suggestions. We told Noyes that Rajagopal must make any settlement suggestion through his lawyers to ours. I telephoned to Fleur. Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked. My brother telephoned in the evening. Father’s burial is tomorrow in New York, Woodlawn Cemetery.’
On September seventh, ‘the campers began arriving for the Brockwood talks.’
The eighth ‘was, again, preparations for the gathering beginning the next day. The house and cottages were full.’
On Saturday, September ninth, ‘Krishnaji gave his first Brockwood talk for that year in the tent. It was a rainy day, but a thousand people came. We had food > set up in the adjacent tent. In the late afternoon, we walked.’ Then there are some things about the case.
S: You can’t say what they are?
M: It’s not important.
On the tenth, ‘Krishnaji gave his second Brockwood talk. The weather was nicer. Over a thousand people came, and we ate again in the tent.’
S: I came to these talks.
M: Did you? Oh!
S: Yes. I was staying at Alresford.
M: Did you, now?
S: Mm, hm. That was my first time at Brockwood.
M: Mmmm. Now, my first memories of you, as I’ve told you over and over, is sitting on the floor at Tannegg.
S: That was in 1974.
M: That was ’74. So this is ’72.
S: Yes. Yes. That was also the first year I went to Saanen.
S: After our last discussion, I was thinking to re-listen to those tapes of that year, as that was the first Saanen I went to, and then I came here, for the Brockwood talks, and my life changed.
M: Where did you stay in Alresford?
S: At the Bell Hotel or whatever it is—the one that’s on the right-hand side as you go down.
M: The Bell?
S: The Bell, I think.
M: Hmm. [S chuckles.] What led you to it? How did you hear?
S: Well, I heard about the Saanen talks from a friend of mine in Paris, so I went to Saanen to hear them. And, of course, while I was there, I heard about the Brockwood talks.
M: I see. So you were in Saanen.
S: I was in Saanen for all the Saanen talks.
M: Where did you stay then?
S: I started off sleeping in the old schoolhouse, which they had for young campers without tents, and then I ran into two friends of mine from America who happened to be there. And they were staying in rooms of someone’s chalet, and I was invited to stay with them.
M: Hmmm. [S chuckles.]
M: Well, continuing. On September the eleventh, ‘I had a cable from the Dunnes that Filomena had had a slight stroke the day before. But luckily it happened when she was with them. She’s in the hospital, and there’s no paralysis.’
The next day, ‘Krishnaji had a discussion in the tent, a very good one on thought and the mind. I finished the interrogatory letter and sent it to Erna.’
My cousin came on the thirteenth.
S: Which cousin was that?
M: The only cousin I have. My mother’s sister’s daughter. She was like a sister when I was a child. A little bit older than me.
S: Is she the one that I met here at Brockwood who lived in Maryland?
M: No. No, that’s a stepsister.
S: Oh, yes.
M: No, my cousin died some years ago. ‘I talked to the doctor in Los Angeles. Filomena had hardening of the arteries to both brain and heart; there was a spasm, which immediately relaxed. But she must change her mode of life. She wishes to join her family in Rome. Miranda is going to Italy and will accompany her in about ten days, and I said I would go to Rome to see her.’
S: Is this when Filomena stopped working for you?
M: Yes. On the fourteenth, ‘Krishnaji held his second discussion at Brockwood. In the afternoon, after a walk, Dorothy, Elena Greene, Sidney Roth, Martha Longenecker, the Bohms, Yves Zlotnitcka, and I saw the four San Diego talks of 1970 that were videotaped.’ Sidney Roth had organized all that and, I think, paid for them, and the titles also showed Krishnaji walking in the garden in Malibu.’
For the fifteenth, there’s no entry at all.
On September sixteenth, ‘Krishnaji gave his third Brockwood talk. We had lunch in the tent later.’
And on the next day, ‘Krishnaji gave the fourth talk,’ and see, there’s nothing else on the page. [S chuckles.] I have to prove it to you. [M laughing.]
S: [laughs] Yes, I’m such a stickler.
M: On the eighteenth, ‘I went to London,’ you don’t want to hear about that. It was about legal things. ‘Shopped for Krishnaji, had lunch with Mary Links at their place. We talked all afternoon. Got back to Brockwood at 7 p.m. Most people who had come for the talks had left. Dorothy said we had enough money to do all the building.’ [S chuckles loudly, and M chuckles, too.] I don’t know what portion of the building she had in mind at that point. I can’t remember.
S: That must have been for finishing the Cloisters.
M: Something like that. On the nineteenth, ‘Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I drove 100 miles to Broadway.’ That’s in the Cotswolds. ‘We lunched at the Lygon Arms,’ I’ve never known how to pronounce it. ‘We looked at furniture and we ordered two more tables needed for the dining room when it is enlarged. Drove home via Cheltenham to Newbury, Winchester, etcetera.’ That was rather nice.
S: What was the name of the company that you got the tables from?
M: It doesn’t say, and I was trying to remember, too. I don’t know if it’s there anymore. I can go there. It’s right next to the place we had lunch.
S: The Lygon Arms? Because that’s a famous restaurant.
M: Mmm. Then on the twenty-first, ‘we went to London. Huntsman…’
S: What were you doing on the twentieth?
M: Nothing important. ‘Bud telephoned from New York about my getting their hotel reservations next week. Desk. Walk,’ is all it says.
S: Now, you see, this is why it’s important to say all these things.
M: Alright, why?
S: Here, it says that a recording was made of Krishnaji chanting with Narayan, and Narayan hasn’t even been mentioned once in your diary.
M: No, it doesn’t say so here.
S: So, the archives list could have the wrong date.
M: I don’t know what to say.
M: However, the next day we went to London, and the well-worn path to ‘Huntsman’ [S chuckles] ‘and then to Fortnum’s. Mary lunched with us, and so did Amanda Pallandt, and at two, Krishnaji had a session with his dentist, Mr. Thompson.’
S: We should just say for the record that Amanda Pallandt is Mary’s daughter.
M: Oh yes, so she is. ‘I went on errands and met him at the dentist. He is going to have a permanent upper right bridge.’ It says, ‘drilling preparation. We caught a taxi quickly, then the train to Petersfield. Coming back in the car from Petersfield, Krishnaji fainted, and I was able to catch and hold him. He was unconscious about two minutes, and his face was swollen.’
S: Swollen from all the drilling? Oh, dear.
M: See, that’s…it was again the body was shocked by things like that…
S: Yes, yes.
M: …and he didn’t faint until he got alone in the car.
M: He didn’t faint on the train. He said he never would faint in front of people.
The next day was the twenty-second and he had slept well and felt better, but his face was still swollen. He attended the first staff meeting of the term. In the afternoon, he, Carlos, and I washed the Mercedes. It was a lovely warm day. We had a walk later.
The next day, ‘I went to see friends in Forest Row. Eric Sevareid was there also’…well, anyway, you don’t want to hear about that.
S: Yes, I do.
M: Alright, ‘Eric Sevareid was interesting on China, but he doesn’t know who Krishnaji is, unfortunately.’ Do you remember who Eric Sevareid was?
S: Oh, yes. Very well.
M: Yes. Do we have to identify him to the mythical listeners of all this?
S: [laughs] A famous newsman, and news commentator.
M: A famous news commentator, and a very good man, very distinguished.
‘I stayed till 4 p.m., and drove back the same way I’d come.’ That was mostly the A272.
S: Who are your friends in Forest Row?
M: Fleur Cowles, and her husband Tom Meyer. In London, they live at The Albany, and have this lovely old Elizabethan farmhouse in Forest Row, near East Grinstead.
The next day was the twenty-fourth, and it was the first day of term at Brockwood. Krishnaji’s head continued to pain him, more or less at times, at the back and on top.
Then the next day it just says, ‘desk.’
S: See, there is another anomaly here with the archives list.
S: It says here that on the twenty-fourth, a recording was made of Krishnaji chanting with Mr. Venks.
M: Mr. Venks was the chanting teacher at Rishi Valley.
S: Yes, but don’t you think you would have mentioned if it had happened on this day?
M: You’d think so, you’d think so, but I didn’t.
S: Well, we’ll see, because they might have the wrong date.
M: Then there’s nothing of significance until the twenty-sixth, when ‘Krishnaji spoke to the school. A’—something like Mr. Wintries—‘who’d sent Brockwood £5,000 sterling, came to lunch.’ Oh, this is that business man who gives Krishnaji’s books to his staff.
S: He had a clothing store in London?
M: Yes, yes. He had his place on Regent Street.
S: Oh, I know him, and he later on started a publishing house.
M: Yes, he was going to do all kinds of things that never came to pass.
S: Yes, he called me about eight or nine months ago. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him for years, [M laughs] and he said he wanted to do something with publishing, but I never heard from him again.
M: Well, he did give the £5,000, though, so we must give him £5,000 worth of credit.
S: Absolutely. [Both laugh.]
M: On the twenty-seventh, it says that ‘Dick Richardson came to lunch to discuss a pamphlet on Krishnaji.’ Do you remember who that was? I know the name, but I can’t for the life of me identify it.
S: No. Sorry, I can’t help.
M: On the twenty-eighth, ‘Krishnaji and I went to London and we met Mary and Alain Naudé at lunch at Fortnum’s. Krishnaji had me buy a jersey for myself on Bond Street, and then he went to the dentist, and I went for things for him to take to India. Dentist Thompson had to refit the mold for his bridges, and Krishnaji did it without anesthetic. We came home.’
The next day, ‘I went again to London for Krishnaji’s Italian visa, and then saw my brother and sister-in-law and their little son for the first time. We ate lunch…’ blah, blah, blah. ‘I went off for further errands. They go to Paris tomorrow. So I came back to Brockwood about 6:30 p.m. and Krishnaji had talked to the school in the morning. Krishnaji scarcely slept.’ I guess that’s that night.
On the thirtieth, ‘the Digbys came at noon, and after lunch met with Krishnaji and me about a large book on the miscellany they had prepared.’ That must be, ah…
S: The Awakening of Intelligence.
M: Yes. ‘At lunch, we discussed Verhulst contract mess’ [chuckles]. ‘George has consulted his own lawyer, who goes contrary to Michael Rubinstein. George said he gave his word on the contract, but that was before Inayat Khan was known to be the director of that company.’
On October first, ‘Krishnaji talked to the school at 11:30 a.m. on language and communication.’ It says, ‘very good. In the afternoon, we went over and watched a cricket game between Brockwood and Mr. Morton’s sons and staff team.’ [S laughs.] Don’t remember any of that. ‘Then, Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked to the grove, and pulled convolvulus out of the rhododendrons. Found a field mouse nest.’
S: [laughs] Convolvulus, is that the…?
M: It’s bind weed.
On October second, ‘I telephoned Vanda in Rome about Krishnaji not having too many talks in Rome. She insists on my staying with her. I said I would stay in a hotel. I telephoned Filomena in Rome; she sounded a bit low. Krishnaji has a cold, so he stayed in bed all day. I took the Mercedes to Chichester for a 9,000-mile service, and spent the morning walking about Chichester pleasantly. Bought a pair of China cats,’ which you can see right now on the mantelpiece. ‘Then, went to East Dean and had tea with Phyl and Christopher, very pleasant. They drove me to the garage and I picked up my car when it was ready, and I drove back to Brockwood in time for supper.’
The next day, ‘Krishnaji stayed in bed with a cold all day. I worked at the desk. Mary Cadogan, who has asked me to come to a meeting with Michael Rubinstein with the Digbys, says that Nelly refuses to go if I do [both laugh]. This caused a few sparks. Dorothy and I went to Winchester on errands. Krishnaji’s driving license is renewed. I bought the Normandy ferry tickets.’
On October fourth, ‘Krishnaji remained in bed, but his cold is better.’
S: Where is Krishnaji’s driver’s license?
M: In Ojai. I think.
S: His English driver’s license?
M: I think so. On October fifth, ‘Krishnaji is better. He stayed in bed in the morning, then we took the 12:45 p.m. train to London with a picnic lunch. For, naturally, Huntsman fittings’ [S laughs]. Mine was bad. Then Krishnaji had a new permanent right upper bridge put in by dentist Hamish Thompson, while I did errands, after which I picked him up and we went straight to Waterloo and home.’
The next day, ‘I fetched Mary Cadogan at Petersfield. Krishnaji talked with the school. The students asked what death is. After lunch, Krishnaji, Mary, and I had a meeting about the Digbys, etcetera. Then, Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked.’
On the seventh, ‘I wrote a letter to the Digbys. The Bohms came for the weekend. Krishnaji has a dialogue with David Bohm. Saral, Dorothy, Doris, and I were present, and George Carnes taped it on the Nagra. They discussed what intelligence is, it is not thought, which is in time, etcetera. At one point, far into the discussion, Krishnaji put the question: “What is its source?” David was silent, and Krishnaji later asked me if I had noticed the change of atmosphere in the room when he asked that question. Then, at the end, he suddenly began to speak of another way to communicate something, to speak not to the conscious mind, but to the unconscious. “That is affection,” he said, “that is love.” To me, later, he said, “I’m going to speak to you that way about your habits of tension.”’ [S laughs.]
On October eighth, ‘Krishnaji had a marvelous discussion with the school continuing Friday’s one on death.’ [Pause…M laughs.]
S: What are you laughing at?
M: He’s scolding me, and telling me he’s going to speak to my unconscious. ‘“Do you know what it is to be quiet?”’ [M laughs again.] ‘He said that he has noticed that I have neglected my body, that for reasons he doesn’t want to inquire into it, I am highly nervous physically. It shows in an unquiet face, fiddling with fingers, etcetera. I have tried to correct it from the outside, through will, through the conscious mind, and when he has pointed out these mannerisms, I have responded with effort, will, irritation, or depression—‘[laughing] ‘all of which are superficial responses. He said, “I am now talking to a deeper level, out of affection. It is from this level, from the inside, you must listen and change. If you do, in a few days, you will be different. There will be an awareness of your body.” He said that after my husband died, for eight years, I abandoned my body, neglected it. Today, I have greatly changed and am aware in many ways, but still not in the well-being of the body. He will speak at this level to me, to my unconscious during the coming days.’ [Laughs.]
S: That’s very nice, very nice.
M: ‘Sacha de Manziarly telephoned and invited us to lunch in Paris on the sixteenth. Nadia Kossiakof telephoned that the first of Krishnaji’s two television interviews in French done last year will be shown on the seventeenth, so we can see it as we will be in Paris then. It’s been a warm day.’
On October ninth. ‘Last night Krishnaji again said, “I’m speaking to your unconscious mind. I feel it doesn’t feel it is important or you would’ve changed these habits during these five years. Do you know what it is to be quiet?” As he was saying this, I saw that the habits are offshoots of tension; I don’t feel tense or nervous, but somehow, to get things done, I build up this steam of energy, which has a quality of tension. It feels like being in high gear. This shouldn’t be necessary. It probably wastes the very energy I need. I see that, from the inside, a quietness is necessary, and that the core of these things cannot be done from without. It is a false tension. Quietness inside, I understand that. Later this morning, while doing dishes in the kitchen, Krishnaji said he felt a difference in me. Then late in the evening, he said, “You have taken the first initiation. Do you know why you have taken so long? When you do, it will be the second initiation.”’ [Laughs.]
‘I finished and posted the Digby letter.’
On October tenth, ‘I got a reply from Nelly Digby. She puts all the trouble down to a misunderstanding [laughter in voice] created by someone else.’ [Laughs again.]
The next day, ‘I telephoned Filomena in Rome, who is feeling rested and better. Vanda rang, saying that Krishnaji will give one talk in Rome on the twenty-ninth. Krishnaji and I went to London. He had his last appointment with the dentist for this year. We met Mary L. for lunch at Fortnum’s, after which Krishnaji had his hair cut. Then we went to Nelson’s for bronchial remedies, and then to see Mrs. Bindley. We caught the 6:20 p.m. train back. I had received a letter from George Digby’—it doesn’t say what it said.
For October twelfth, my diary reads, ‘desk mostly. Ian Hammond at lunch. He, Dorothy, and I discussed building an assembly hall on the roof.’ On the roof?
S: Good grief.
M: An area outside, near the kitchen, was suggested. Krishnaji wants to go ahead. It will cost around £15,000 sterling. Krishnaji’s letter to the Digbys reached them.’ I don’t know what he said. I may have something in my Digby file that would shed light, but I don’t remember much. ‘They went to see Mary Links in the afternoon.’
On the thirteenth of October, ‘Krishnaji spoke to the school and Mark Edwards took photographs of it. Mary and Joe Links brought Gollancz and Peter Day to meet Krishnaji. That was the first time they had met. Donald Hoppen, too, was at lunch. The Digbys sent a letter via Mary to Krishnaji, saying they were resigning from the Publication Committee and the KFT, “as he wished.” Krishnaji dictated a letter replying that he had not said that. Then, in the evening, he had me telephone George and say he hoped they would continue editing the talks. George and I spoke in a friendly fashion, and he said they would edit the talks but wished to withdraw from organizations.’
October fourteenth. ‘Packed. I telephoned Mary Cadogan about the Digby resignation and visualized the Publication Committee continuing with her handling the business part. David and Saral came to lunch. I took him with me while I put gas in the Mercedes and told him of the Digbys’ resignations. Krishnaji, Dorothy, and I walked.’
For October fifteenth, it reads, ‘packing, packing. In mid-morning, Krishnaji said it would be nice to say goodbye once more to the Digbys. So, I rang and Nelly answered. I said amenities, and her voice was as abrupt as a knife. I put Krishnaji on. He said, “We want you to come back to the work”’—meaning editing. ‘George came on, and Krishnaji said the same to him and goodbye. Half an hour later, Doris brought a message from George that, “Things would be as they always were,” and that he would ring again in half an hour. I telephoned immediately and George said that as Krishnaji didn’t want them to resign, they were staying on. I said that Krishnaji wanted them to continue editing. Had not spoken about whether he was the chairman of the Publications Committee, etcetera. We were back where we were when this began. I telephoned Mary L. She said that unless George does resign, they are unable to rearrange things. We worked out a phrase about Krishnaji accepting and understanding their wish to resign, but wanted them to continue editing the talks, also to tell them that because of leaving today Krishnaji had to tell Mary Cadogan, David Bohm, and Dorothy, and talk to Mary L. about it. So I rang George again and told him all this, and added that in discussing it, Krishnaji had not wished to impose a decision on the Publication Committee, but had wondered if a chairman was necessary. George said he would support a reorganization of the Publications Committee and someone else to be with Mary Cadogan in handling executive matters. So, we breathed easier, and I rang Mary L. again to tell her this, and ask her to inform Mary C. tomorrow as she couldn’t be reached today.’
‘Krishnaji, Dorothy, Whisper, and I went for our usual walk across the lovely fields. Krishnaji and I had supper downstairs, and at 8 p.m., everyone collected in the West Wing hall to say goodbye to Krishnaji. He was startled as he went through his bedroom door onto the landing and he saw them all, but then, to laughter, he came down. The Mercedes had been carefully loaded by Carlos. He and Dorothy had washed it yesterday as a surprise, and so, with warm goodbyes and near tears from Dorothy, we drove off to Southampton and boarded the Normandy ferry. It was half-empty. It rolled about in the night, and there wasn’t much sleep.’
On Monday the sixteenth of October. ‘A clear morning, mist rising. Poplar trees etched their wintry twigs against the pale light. We drove swiftly, effortlessly, across the Tancarville Bridge on the autoroute, stopping for an execrable’ [chuckles] ‘breakfast at the usual cafeteria place. Next time we will bring our own breakfast. We were in Paris by 10:30 a.m., and true to K’s prediction, our rooms were ready. We unpacked, and then went to lunch in the Rue Jacob with Mar and Sacha de Manziarly. Sacha has not been well since a motor accident in the spring. Krishnaji put his hands on him. Mar talked privately to Krishnaji about the journal she and Yo kept when they were young. She will give it to Mary L. for the biography.’
‘During this, Sacha talked to me about wanting to die. He hopes the plane he takes to Morocco tomorrow could crash. No thought of others on the plane. His social life of trivialities has left him lost in age and ill health. The conversation at table was at odds and ends, people were not listening to each other.’
‘We went to Charvet, and then I put Krishnaji in a taxi to the hotel and walked to Chanel for a fitting of my blue suit. Mr. Moser came to the hotel to take the Mercedes to Thun for winter storage. I gave him back bills for the scratch he put on the car in the spring, as my insurance has a 500 Swiss francs deductible. Moser is to send me the contract for Krishnaji’s new Mercedes in December when the new prices are known. We had supper in the rooms.’
S: Can we just go back here for a minute?
S: Whose diary was it that Mar de Manziarly was talking about?
M: Yo, her sister Yolande, and Marcelle apparently kept a journal when they were young, back in the very early days.
S: Yes. Have you seen that?
M: I don’t know. I don’t know if she ever gave it. I don’t remember seeing it. She gave some letters that Krishnaji had written, which I gave to the archives.
S: I’ll ask Mary L. about it. Mar said they were going to send it to Mary L., according to your diary.
M: ‘Mar talked privately to Krishnaji about the journal that she and Yo kept when they were young, and she told him she will give it to Mary L. for the biography.’
S: Yes. I’ll call Mary about it, because that would be interesting to have.
Thursday the seventeenth of October. ‘Krishnaji is feeling in need of rest. We stayed in all morning. I wrote letters. Mary C. rang from London. Nelly told her, “I never resigned. I simply offered my resignation” as a trustee of KFT. Obviously, she wants to stay on. George will resign as chairman at the beginning of the Publication Committee meeting tomorrow, so it is up to them all to decide on a new system.’
‘Marcelle Bondoneau and Nadia Kossiakof lunched with us in the Régence. They had put together a new legal Krishnamurti entity in France, Le Bureau, comprising four members, one of whom must be domiciled and own property in France, not rent. They are Mlle. Isabelle Mallet, who lives in Normandy in a house built by Sir Edwin Lutyens, Mme. Samuel, Mme. Banzet, and Mme. Betsy Debass. The object of the committee is strictly the dissemination of Krishnaji’s teachings through him, his books, tapes, and films. Nadia has worked very hard over this, and over publications and TV interviews. When they left, Krishnaji and I went to Charvet. Krishnaji fitted for alterations to some of his sport shirts that aren’t right, three new chemises de ville. One older one that has been altered will be sent to Malibu to await his arrival in the spring. We walked along to Lobb, where his new black two-eyelet Norwegians were ready, and he ordered one pair of brown brogues. These will be fetched by him when he’s in Paris in the spring. Then, we went to getting chemist supplies for him to take to India and a new electric toothbrush, and came back to the hotel tired. We had supper in the rooms. Krishnaji went to sleep but I sat up to see the broadcast of the half-hour TV interview of Krishnaji conducted by André Voisin a year ago, recorded here in the Plaza Athénée, over two days. It was all in French. It was superb. Krishnaji spoke clearly, eloquently, and his accent was good. The trips in gender or verb tenses didn’t matter. Voisin did an excellent job really listening, subtly smoothing words when Krishnaji didn’t get the ones he wanted and lightly leading Krishnaji to essential questions in his teachings. It was marvelous to watch Krishnaji in conversation. His face tells so much, so eloquently. I was moved and thrilled. The second part, another half hour, is to be shown on the twenty-fourth. Alas, I will miss that. But, copies go to KFT and we can see it later.’ Have we got that?
M: No?! That’s outrageous!
S: I know. I’ve asked Jean-Michel Maroger to look into it, but we still don’t have it. I know it is outrageous.
M: ‘The film was in black and white, well and professionally shot. Excellent all around.’
The next day. ‘There were enthusiastic telephone calls about the television from Bondoneau, Kossiakof, and Mar de Manziarly, the latter taking credit for her family giving Krishnaji his good French accent years ago’ [laughs]. Mar told me she had been to Ojai and seen Rajagopal, but, “we didn’t talk about anything, we just laughed.” She asked if we couldn’t just put in The Bulletin that Rajagopal hadn’t stolen anything; he had been doing his work since 1922 and hasn’t taken a thing. I explained we had a lawsuit going because Rajagopal refused information about finances, and about the settlement the attorney general offered, and that he and Mima were suing Krishnaji and the rest of us. She said she loved Mima, and didn’t feel in the middle.’
‘We packed and got to Orly for an Alitalia 10 a.m. flight to Rome, but it was delayed till 3:45 p.m. We lunched at Maxim’s at the airport. We were most meticulously searched before boarding the plane. Security has greatly improved since the hijacking. Then we were frisked, and women had metal detectors passed over their bodies. Every lumpy thing in my bag and briefcase was examined.’
‘On the plane, Krishnaji said “You must take care of yourself. Eat properly. Walk two miles a day. You must be well. You must outlive me. No unnecessary trips to Arizona.” I said I promised to go to see Philippa and Betsy. “Then, go quietly,” he said, “You must have no accidents.”’
S: Were Philippa and Betsy in Arizona?
M: Yes, Philippa was at school in Arizona. I don’t know where Betsy was. Can’t think. ‘“Do everything quietly, then everything will be alright.”’
‘Vanda met us at Leonardo da Vinci Airport. Mr. Barabino and his friend Mario Pia Vecchi were also there, and they drove me to the Hotel Rafael. Krishnaji is staying with Vanda. I rang Filomena. Miranda came from Florence later and is staying with Filomena.’
That’s the end of that. Now, we have to go back to the little book. The next entry in the big book is Brockwood on the twentieth of May ’73.
S: Wow. Okay. So, we’re in the little book, then.
M: The nineteenth of October. ‘Filomena and Miranda came with Mario’—that’s Filomena’s son—‘to the hotel. Filomena looked well. We all went to her apartment.’ It then goes on about her family, Katarina, Mystica, Peppino, etcetera…‘and we talked about all her affairs. Then, Miranda and I went to Vanda’s on via Barnaba Oriani. I lunched with Krishnaji, her, Cragnolini, and Barabino. Mary Cadogan telephoned. Yesterday’s Publication Committee went well. George resigned from the chairmanship. Ian Hammond doesn’t want the chairmanship, and suggested Mary C. be the chairman, and she was elected. Nelly remains a trustee in KFT.’
‘Miranda and I walked around Piazza Navonna and surrounding streets. At 7 p.m., we went to dine in Tre Scalini. I took her back to Filomena’s in a taxi.’
The next day, ‘To Vanda’s for lunch. Krishnaji and I went for a walk beforehand in Villa Glori.’ Villa Glori, this where Vanda had a flat more in the northern part of Rome, and down the hill there’s a big park. ‘Rosalind telephoned Vanda yesterday from Paris to tell Krishnaji she wishes him well. Krishnaji told Vanda of her going around telling others, i.e., Naudé, that Krishnaji is wrong and doing wrong things. I left early in order to get back to the hotel where I met Miranda and Filomena, and the three of us went to St. Peters, to Piazza del Campidoglio, looked at the Forum, the Coliseum, the Trevi Fountain, and Piazza di Spagna. They dropped me at Vanda’s and they went on to Filomena’s. I had supper with Vanda.’
On the twenty-first. ‘I went with Filomena and Miranda to Villa Madama.’ Villa Madama is a house that my aunt once owned in Rome, very beautiful, built by one of the Medici popes for his daughter. The government owns it now.
M: Filomena went to work there when she first worked for my aunt and all the old servants, many of them are still there, and so, they all came out and greeted her and me. ‘It looks well cared for. Then, we went to the Sistine Chapel and then to lunch with Vanda and Krishnaji. It was the first meeting of Filomena with Vanda and Fosca.’ [Laughs.] ‘Krishnaji gave Filomena a treatment. After lunch, Filomena, Miranda, and I came back to the hotel, and then we went driving to Appia Antica, the catacombs, etcetera. I passed our old house’—that’s where Sam and I had housed the last year when he did Ben-Hur. ‘And back to San Giovanni and Laterano.’
The twenty-second, ‘Miranda and Filomena lunched with me in Piazza Navonna. We sat out on the Piazza in lovely sunshine. Miranda and I went to Vanda’s. Topazia was there. Vanda took Miranda on a drive to the Janiculum. Krishnaji and I took a long walk in Villa Glori. Topazia had told of having a feverish talk about the Rajagopal case. Krishnaji answered her on that and on “authority” and of those around him and me. She is critical of me because I had advised against more meetings in Rome.’
‘The moon came up full and enormous through the pines as we walked. Miranda and I had supper there. I took her back to Filomena’s. We sat and talked a while, and then Filomena came along for the ride when a nephew drove me back. Miranda flies tomorrow to New York.’
October the twenty-third. ‘I did letters all morning, and lunched in the hotel. I did some shopping—a Braun shaver for Krishnaji and a steam iron for Filomena’—[laughter in voice]—‘then went and did letters with Krishnaji, followed by a walk with him in Villa Glori. “Is your subconscious working?” he said.’ [M and S both laugh.] ‘I went to see Filomena at 6:30 p.m. and went over her finances. We had a long talk.’
On the twenty-fourth, ‘I went to Vanda’s for lunch. At lunch with Vanda were Giorgio and Margherita Signorini, a man who has talked about the pyramids and earthquakes being triggered by the stars. Went later to Filomena’s for another long talk. Krishnaji suggested she come for a visit when he is in Malibu. I told her, and we would see about this.’
October twenty-fifth. ‘I left the Hotel Rafael with Filomena and Mario, her son, and went to Vanda’s. Reporters came to interview Krishnaji, also some student who monopolized things. After a late lunch, I took the train to Florence. I went up to see a friend in Florence and stayed in a pensione, which was nice.’
The next day, ‘I spent with my friend walking all over Florence.’
And the next day, the twenty-seventh, ‘I spent mostly in the Uffizi. And then I took a train back to Rome. Arrived at Vanda’s in late p.m. Unpacked. I am staying here.’ She invited me to stay in the flat on my return. ‘She and Krishnaji had gone to a movie, African Elephant.’ [Chuckles.]
The next day, ‘I spoke to Filomena, who had been to see a nearby doctor who will look after her. I went to the masseur, Ms. Goody,’ [laughs] ‘on Vanda’s and Krishnaji’s urging. She turned out to be a friend of Filomena who once worked for Dorothy.’ That was my aunt. ‘I had a fine massage and got back in time for lunch. Mr. Graf and Mme. Safra were there. Later Krishnaji and I walked.’
On the twenty-ninth, ‘Vanda drove Krishnaji and me to the Teatro dell’Arte, where Krishnaji gave his first talk in Rome, a very fine one. The place was overflowing. Barabino came to lunch and discussed Krishnaji’s future talks in Rome. Krishnaji may cut India to two months or less another year. Walked with him in the Villa Glori later. Vanda had a young man, Arthur Patterson, to supper.’
October thirtieth, ‘Ms. Goody gave Krishnaji a massage and then me. I went with Mario to see Filomena, and saw the whole family. I came back for a lunch for thirty people at Vanda’s. Krishnaji and I walked in Villa Glori. He said, “Pay attention to your unconscious. It may want to tell you something now. Do not take too long to change. You are quiet inside now. Do not take so long to change. It will tell you something and you must be alert and quick to respond, otherwise it is harmful.” He has touched something that is now different, an interior movement. He talked of what is negotiable or not with Rajagopal. A letter came today from Noyes about Rajagopal talking rapprochement. Krishnaji dictated comments on this to me.’
The next day, ‘Krishnaji said he had awakened at 4 a.m., and wished to tell me things. There was a discussion of about fifty people at Vanda’s. Krishnaji and I walked in Villa Glori. Had lunch. Filomena came with Mario in the car at 3 p.m. I said my goodbyes, then Filomena and Mario drove me to the airport. I took the 5:30 p.m. Alitalia flight to Paris. Arrived at Plaza Athénée by 8:30 p.m. Telephoned Brockwood, and spoke to Dorothy and Doris.’
The first of November, ‘I went to look at paintings at the Grand Palais, then at 5 p.m., Nadia Kossiakof and Marcelle Bondoneau came to have tea with me at the Plaza. We discussed work. They are concerned about the future and want to attend meetings to discuss this next year. I telephoned Mary Cadogan about the Italian publisher Ubaldini. At 7 p.m., I telephoned Rome and spoke to Vanda and Krishnaji.’
November second, ‘Krishnaji telephoned just after 7 a.m. Rajagopal had rung him to say that he loves him, and whatever happens, he loves him as he did in the beginning. Krishnaji told him that he could settle things. Rajagopal said, “it is out of my hands.” I felt sickened and upset. Krishnaji said, “It’s no use being upset. It is done. It may mean something.” He is still as quick as ever to hope that this unspeakable hypocrite will behave decently. I was feeling low and went to Charvet with Krishnaji’s message. Dropped in to see…’ oh, a woman who I haven’t mentioned that I know there…‘then to Chanel to fit the brown tweed, then went to Orly. The 5:30 p.m. Pan Am flight was two hours late taking off. I finally reached New York. There was a long wait for customs, and then to Bud and Lisa’s at 10:30 p.m. We talked till very late.’
So, there’s really nothing that involves Krishnaji for the rest of the year, because he’s in India.
S: Alright, but if you want to just skip through and just see if there’s anything from Krishnaji, and you can just read those things.
‘On the fifth of November, Krishnaji took an Alitalia flight from Rome to Delhi.’
Well, the first letter I had from Krishnaji was on November eighth. It reached me in New York, and it was written right after I left.
On the thirteenth of November, ‘I flew from New York to Los Angeles and so home to Malibu. I sent Krishnaji a cable that I’d arrived.’
On the seventeenth of November, ‘I got a special delivery letter from Krishnaji, his first from India. His Alitalia flight from Rome was delayed in Athens and the airline made him share a room in a hotel with a man who smelled and snored.’
S: Oh dear.
M: Oh, oh, oh [chuckling]. See, I should have been with him. He wouldn’t have objected to something like that, but I would have objected for him.
S: I know, he’d just go along with it.
M: Yes, he went along with it. And I remember his telling me that when the bus took them back to the airport there was some American woman on the bus. They drove past the Acropolis and, he said with numbed voice, he said, “She never even looked up!” [S laughs.] The Acropolis! He couldn’t believe it!
On the twenty-ninth of December. ‘Letter number six came from Krishnaji, written in Madras. He had been asked questions about Vasanta Vihar by Rajagopal’s lawyers. Madhavachari had given all of Krishnaji’s private letters to Rajagopal. The thorough betrayal I had suspected,’ it says here.
S: That’s terrible. All of Krishnaji’s letters to Madhavachari?
M: Yes, Krishnaji had been open and honest, and he wrote about the case, and what should be done, and asked his advice, and all the things we were talking about he wrote to Madhavachari, who promptly turned them over to Rajagopal.
So, that ends 1972.
 Written by Mary’s longstanding friend, Christopher Fry. Back up to text.
 In the province of Mantua was part of the Republic of Venice during the Renaissance. Joe Links, Mary Links’s husband, was a well-known expert on Renaissance Venice. Back up to text.
 Fleur Cowles was a longstanding friend of Mary’s. Back up to text.
 The food was prepared by the school kitchen staff and some volunteers, and during these public gatherings they usually fed more than ten times the number of people they normally fed. It always seemed something of a miracle, and was the only Krishnamurti public event at which food was offered. Back up to text.
 Gordon Russell. Back up to text.
 I was by now checking what Mary was saying against the archives list. Back up to text.
 Mary Links’s daughter. Back up to text.
 This recording was made in September of 1995. Back up to text.
 George was the KFT’s first archivist, and his wife Esme ran the Brockwood Park school kitchen. Back up to text.
 Dress shirts. Back up to text.