'For days now I have tried to start this diary, but the clatter of my existence has warned me off; the first mark on the page eludes me...'
Derek Jarman's Smiling in Slow Motion concludes the journey started in Modern Nature, these previously unpublished journals stretch from May 1991 until a fortnight before his death in February 1994. Part diary, part observation, part memoir, Jarman writes with his familiar honesty, wry humour and acuity. Friends, collaborators and enemies are catalogued as he races through his last year painting, film-making, gardening, and annoying his targets through his involvement in radical politics.
Writing from his Charing Cross Road flat, on his visits to international film festivals, his world famous garden at Dungeness in Kent, and finally from his bed in St Bartholomew's Hospital, Jarman illuminates an era which seems more ephemeral and out-of-grasp with each passing day.
Smiling in Slow Motion is not a document of illness, regret and resignation, but one of endeavour, remembrance and love.