In 2013, the actress wrote a letter tasty, full of irony and self-deprecating, to the address of Princess Leia. A role as cult as cumbersome for the interested.
In January 2013, while she was back in the Star Wars saga to put them in a box his scenes for the needs of Star Wars – the Awakening of the Force, Carrie Fisher published on the website bulletmedia.com a moving letter, full of irony and self-derision, addressed to the character that made him so famous, but has also greatly handicapped the rest of his career. Here it is.
Dear princess Leia
I don’t want to be presumptuous in calling you Leia for short, it would require a familiarity which I do not wish to assume. And while some may say that we look alike to the point of being able to be taken the one for the other – if we were mysteriously okay for us to dress the same way trivial and that you may refuse them and, finally, reasonably, to submit to the rigors of this hairstyle rowdy and absurd – in short (but finally !), I could pass for you with just a few minor tweaks and you could pass for me with transformations significantly more important. But is that my mind would your body ?
I’ve spent almost two-thirds of my life to cross galaxies in those fucking boots in white leather. I have even tried to answer for your actions, explain the potential grounds for choice that one of us has not been able to do. But then that will be remembered forever you strolling in landscapes infested with the stars, living for ever in the imagination and on screens, I végète noisily in that infamous closet of celebrity – to grow, take wrinkles, me hunch and I abêtir with age.
here We are in our own table at the Dorian Gray. You : sweet, confident, and right in your boots, sentenced forever to the great and enviable prison of the adventure intergalactic. Me : struggling more and more against stress syndrome, post-galactic, bearing your scars, graying your hair forever black, and ridiculous.
You always act as a heroine ; I sniffe, in a poor attempt to mitigate the brightness of your frenetic film intergalactic. You reap the glory ; I give in to old age. You : so in shape physically, and if steeped in good intentions that it makes me mad – in any case, something makes me mad. While you fight the dark side with your ways light and bright, I am in the pit of the Sarlacc, covered by the juices of organic nefarious Jabba.
It will take t-he end of a day ? Probably not, but for me, I will end. I am pretty certain. My suites will stop, fortunately, finally, while your own hand will free another and will absorb an era. Even though you’re doomed to replay the same seven hours of adventures over a span of now almost four decades chahuteuses, at least you look good when you fight evil. I have the air inhabited. My eyes amused and envious animate a face bloated and damaged by age. Wasn’t I supposed to remain happily frozen in the amber of our projected image, pushing back the water retention, the weight and the wrinkles in the same way that you fought for the glory of… what was it already, the purpose of this damn story – a universe that radiates peace and fairness, Ewoks cabriolant in fields of force ? Wasn’t I supposed to stay ? Say, was I not ?
our for everything except shared (if they were shared, it is a way unsafe), what that has been, or will be, one of Leia, Carrie will be, at least periodically, pathetic and disappointing, plagued by pity, old and overexposed, made sad and out of place in comparison with the adventures of rich and unbroken from its counterpart. Play it again, Han ! Leia plays while I continue to pay and pay and pay. I’m Carrie Fisher from Star Wars – the south side of Star Wars, near the old abandoned house of Vader.
I grow pale while you flamboyez. I arch while you just pull and defend the right. Oh ! I know, there are worse. The worst are gathering in my spine and haunts my future days full of entertainment. But the worst gives the best – Dorian Organa gives in to Carrie Gray. We all win in the end, isn’t it ? If not permanently, at least for a limited number of days sympathetic and inevitable. She is the Leia Organa in the center of the best memories of so many human beings. Shining in the warm light of our nostalgia of science fiction.
Our Alderaan, come fly with us, but wherever you go – at the top of the hill, or this whole damn City of the clouds, in the palace of Jabba or the emergency room, up, down, or across – do your best to do what I do : make sure you enjoy the journey. Let fall the hair salon, but enjoy the journey !
Regards, Carrie
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