I just picked up the issue of People magazine with Carrie Fisher’s excerpt from The Princess Diarist in it. I read it standing in the aisle at the grocery store, and halfway through I started to cry.
She describes their affair and its conclusion saying:
“So I loved him and he allowed it. That’s as close to a reckoning as I can muster four decades later.”
I’m not sure why this is hitting me in such an emotional way. Maybe it’s because Carrie Fisher, in the persona of her character Leia Organa, has been a part of my life since I was ten. I didn’t really identify with her back at the beginning (she seemed like a grownup, and I was just a kid), but now, when I feel much closer to her in age (I’m fifty to her sixty) - oh, hell yeah.
I’d never heard of “shipping” when I was thirteen and seeing Empire eighty one times in the theater, but Han and Leia were IT for me, and I loved that scoundrel smuggler with all my heart. Maybe that’s why I’m crying. The glimpse into the deep, raw emotions of the nineteen year old girl in love that Fisher was - the reverberating wave of the story I loved and the reality of her relationship with Harrison Ford; it just hurts. It’s beautiful and terrible.
Stana Katic talking about the atmosphere behind the scenes of “Lost in Florence” (x)
“Tha’s such a unique pleasure to hear and listen. Everyone’s kind of chatting in italian, and trying to work out the shots. (…) Everyone’s got an opinion, from, you know, the the gaffer, to the grip, to the DP, of course. it’s very Italian in that way, you know, it’s a community thing.”