Charlie Chaplin's letter to his daughter Geraldine

We bring to your attention a letter from one of the most famous people of the first half of the 20th century - Charlie Chaplin. Without exaggeration, he can be called the greatest comedian of all time.

After all, Chaplin wrote scripts and music, acted as a film director and singer of songs, and also played the main roles of his truly brilliant masterpieces.

How it all fit in one small and funny little man - it is not clear so far.

Interesting stories from the life of this great comedian deserve a separate book.

Charlie Chaplin

We offer you a letter that Charlie Chaplin wrote to his daughter Geraldine. That was in 1965, when Geraldine, 21, went to France to conquer Paris with her dances.

The letter is filled with heartfelt advice and true fatherly love for his daughter.

Charlie Chaplin hugs daughter Geraldine

In general, read, and then leave your impressions in the comments.

So before you Charlie Chaplin's letter to his daughter.

My girl!

It's night now. Christmas night. All the armed soldiers of my little fortress fell asleep. Sleep your brother, your sister. Even your mother is already sleeping. I almost woke the sleeping chicks, getting to this half-lit room.

How far are you from me! But let me go blind if your image is not always in front of my eyes. Your portrait is here on the table, and here, near my heart.

And where are you? There, in fabulous Paris, you dance on the majestic theatrical scene on the Champs Elysees.

I know this well, and yet it seems to me that in the silence of the night I hear your footsteps, I see your eyes that shine like stars in a winter sky. I hear that you are playing the role of a Persian beauty captivated by a Tatar khan in this festive and bright performance.

Be beautiful and dance! Be a star and shine! But if the enthusiasm and gratitude of the public will make you drunk, if the fragrance of the presented flowers makes you dizzy, sit in the corner and read my letter, listen to the voice of your heart.

I am your father, Geraldine!

I'm Charlie, Charlie Chaplin!

Do you know how many nights I sat at your bed, when you were a baby, telling you stories about a sleeping beauty, about a lonely dragon?

And when the dream adjoined my senile eyes, I scoffed at him and
said: "Go away! My dream is my daughter's dreams!"

I saw your dreams, Geraldine, saw your future, your present day. I saw a girl dancing on the stage, a fairy sliding across the sky.

I heard the public say: "See this girl? She is the daughter of an old jester. Remember, his name was Charlie?"

Yes, I am Charlie! I'm an old jester!

Today is your turn. Dance! I danced in wide ragged pants, and you dance in silk princess attire. These dances and thunder of applause will sometimes lift you to heaven. Fly! Fly there! But get down to the ground!

You must see the lives of people, the lives of those street dancers who dance, shivering with cold and hunger. I was like them, Geraldine. On those nights, on those magical nights, when you fell asleep, lulled by my tales, I was awake.

I looked at your face, listened to the blows of your heart, and asked myself: "Charlie, does this kitten ever know you?"

Geraldine Chaplin

You do not know me, Geraldine. I told you many fairy tales in those distant nights, but never my own fairy tale. And she is also interesting. This is a fairy tale about a hungry jester who sang and danced in the poor neighborhoods of London, and then collected alms.

Here it is, my fairy tale!

I learned what hunger is, what it is to not have shelter. Moreover, I experienced the humiliating pain of a wanderer-jester, in whose chest a whole ocean of pride was raging, and this pride was wounded by hurled coins.

And yet I am alive, so leave it. Better talk about you. After your name - Geraldine - should be my last name - Chaplin. With this surname for more than forty years, I am amused people on earth.

But I cried more than they laughed. Geraldine, in the world in which you live, there is not only dancing and music!

At midnight, when you leave the huge hall, you can forget the rich fans, but do not forget to ask the taxi driver, who will take you home, about his wife. And if she is pregnant, if they have no money for diapers for an unborn baby, put the money in his pocket.

I ordered the bank to pay these your expenses. But all others pay strictly on the bill. From time to time, take the subway or bus, go on foot and explore the city.

Look at the people! Look at widows and orphans! And at least once a day, tell yourself: "I am the same as they are."

Yes, you are one of them, girl! Moreover. Art, before giving a person wings so that he can fly up, usually breaks his legs. And if the day comes when you feel taller than the public, immediately drop the stage.

Take the first taxi to the outskirts of Paris. I know them very well! There you will see a lot of dancers like you, even more beautiful, more graceful, with more pride.

The blinding light of your theater's spotlights will not be there. The spotlight for them is the moon. Look carefully, look! Are they dancing better than you? Admit it, my girl! There is always one who dances better than you, who plays better than you!

And remember: in the family of Charlie there was no such rude who would have cursed the cabman or laughed at the beggar sitting on the banks of the Seine.

I will die, but you will live. I want you to never know poverty. With this letter, I am sending you a checkbook so that you can spend as much as you wish.

But when you spend two francs, do not forget to remind yourself that the third coin is not yours. It should belong to a stranger who needs it. And this you can easily find. One has only to want to see these unfamiliar poor people, and you will meet them everywhere.

I am talking to you about money, for I know their devilish power.

I spent a lot of time in the circus. And always very worried about the tightrope walkers. But I must tell you that people often fall on hard ground than rope-walkers from unreliable rope.

Maybe one of the evening parties will dazzle you with the brilliance of a diamond. At the same time, it will become a dangerous rope for you, and a fall for you is inevitable.

Maybe one day you will be captivated by the beautiful face of a prince. On the same day, you will become an inexperienced tightrope walker, and inexperienced ones always fall.

Do not sell your heart for gold and jewels. Know that the most huge diamond is the sun. Fortunately, it sparkles for everyone.

And when the time comes, and you fall in love, then love this person with all your heart. I told your mother to write to you about it. She understands in love more than me, and it is better for her to talk with you about it.

Charlie Chaplin with his wife Ona and two daughters (Geraldine sits on a horse)

Your job is hard, I know that. Your body is covered only with a piece of silk. For the sake of art, you can appear on the stage and be naked, but you need to return from there not only dressed, but also cleaner.

I am old, and maybe my words sound funny. But, in my opinion, your naked body should belong to the one who loves your naked soul.

It is not terrible if your opinion on this issue is a decade old, that is, it belongs to the passing time. Do not worry, these ten years will not make you old. But be that as it may, I want
you were the last person to become the citizens of the island naked.

I know that fathers and children have an eternal duel between themselves. Fight with me, with my thoughts, my girl! I do not like submissive children. And until tears flowed from my eyes to this letter, I want to believe that today's Christmas night is a night of miracles. I want a miracle to happen, and you really understand everything that I wanted to tell you.

Charlie is old, Geraldine. Sooner or later, instead of a white dress for the stage, you will have to wear mourning to come to my grave. Now I do not want to upset you.

Only from time to time peer into the mirror - there you will see my features. In your veins my blood flows. Even when the blood in my veins has cooled, I want you not to forget your father Charlie.

I was not an angel, but always sought to be a man.

Try and you.

Kiss you, Geraldine.
Your Charlie.
December 1965