10 Being a coward. Some fears go back to childhood. My family greatly appreciated courage. I used to worry about some situation arising, like having to jump into a river to save a drowning child-would I be able to do it?
9 Thugs. Occasionally I have avoided people on the street or in the park. I had my bag snatched once walking down the road... I feel safer in my car than outside of it.
8 Brown envelopes. I have a horror of brown envelopes. All I ever ask for in a man is that he should open them; he doesn't have to pay the bills, but he has to take that first shock. After my father died, I found a large drawer packed with unopened brown envelopes. When I see one lurking in the post, I put it away (they're not brown these days, but I know what they are).
7 Destruction of the planet. I feel very pessimistic about this. There is no reason why what happened to the dinosaurs cannot happen to us.
6 The underground. This is directly related to another phobia: that of seeing someone vomiting. Once, on an underground train during the war, I was thinking, what if that man suddenly vomited. And by God, he did. I got off at the next station, feeling ill and shaken. I haven't really been on the underground since.
5 Holocaust books. Having worked with Gitta Sereny on her book Into the Darkness, it would take a great deal for me to read a Holocaust book now. Having to face that excruciating horror again is too much.
4 Stroke. I don't worry about illness, but this I think about.
3 The future of young people. When I was young, I took it for granted that the world was good. I couldn't do that now. Young people-especially young women-are always getting drunk. That's a sign of things deteriorating. I think they're depressed. What's going to happen to them? What's going to happen to the world? What are they going to do to their children?
2 Getting hurt in love, again. Eventually I found a situation I could trust, but it's a fear I still remember. It actually started me writing-my book Instead of a Letter came out of that fear, and writing purged me of it. I had had good times, an interesting job, I knew lots of people, I had plenty of love affairs. But for about 20 years, if I ever asked myself "what do you think of your life?" I would say, "It's a failure." Because as a little girl all I wanted was a simple thing-to love a husband who loved me, and I didn't get that simple thing. But that feeling completely went away. I feel rather free of fears now because of that book.
1 Being older than I think I am. I thought I was 85, but a friend who is my age told me, 86, darling. It made me think that there was less ahead than I had hoped. I want to have a lot more time. It's more of a disappointment than a fear. Becoming older has removed fears for me. An awful lot of fears are imaginary, and you do overcome things.
Interview by Elena Lappinn
9 Thugs. Occasionally I have avoided people on the street or in the park. I had my bag snatched once walking down the road... I feel safer in my car than outside of it.
8 Brown envelopes. I have a horror of brown envelopes. All I ever ask for in a man is that he should open them; he doesn't have to pay the bills, but he has to take that first shock. After my father died, I found a large drawer packed with unopened brown envelopes. When I see one lurking in the post, I put it away (they're not brown these days, but I know what they are).
7 Destruction of the planet. I feel very pessimistic about this. There is no reason why what happened to the dinosaurs cannot happen to us.
6 The underground. This is directly related to another phobia: that of seeing someone vomiting. Once, on an underground train during the war, I was thinking, what if that man suddenly vomited. And by God, he did. I got off at the next station, feeling ill and shaken. I haven't really been on the underground since.
5 Holocaust books. Having worked with Gitta Sereny on her book Into the Darkness, it would take a great deal for me to read a Holocaust book now. Having to face that excruciating horror again is too much.
4 Stroke. I don't worry about illness, but this I think about.
3 The future of young people. When I was young, I took it for granted that the world was good. I couldn't do that now. Young people-especially young women-are always getting drunk. That's a sign of things deteriorating. I think they're depressed. What's going to happen to them? What's going to happen to the world? What are they going to do to their children?
2 Getting hurt in love, again. Eventually I found a situation I could trust, but it's a fear I still remember. It actually started me writing-my book Instead of a Letter came out of that fear, and writing purged me of it. I had had good times, an interesting job, I knew lots of people, I had plenty of love affairs. But for about 20 years, if I ever asked myself "what do you think of your life?" I would say, "It's a failure." Because as a little girl all I wanted was a simple thing-to love a husband who loved me, and I didn't get that simple thing. But that feeling completely went away. I feel rather free of fears now because of that book.
1 Being older than I think I am. I thought I was 85, but a friend who is my age told me, 86, darling. It made me think that there was less ahead than I had hoped. I want to have a lot more time. It's more of a disappointment than a fear. Becoming older has removed fears for me. An awful lot of fears are imaginary, and you do overcome things.
Interview by Elena Lappinn
