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The Diary: Tom Hiddleston
March 3, 2011 1:09 pm
By Tom
Hiddleston
Before deciding to become an actor, I
read Classics at university and my favourite lyric poetic epic is still the
Odyssey. Homer’s eponymous hero – the guy we’re all rooting for – is a man of many wiles: a sailor, traveller, warrior, lover, and adventurer. But perhaps the
most important reason why Odysseus achieves the glory of eternal renown is
simply because, after 10 years in Troy, and a further 10 at sea, he makes it
back home. He returns to his family: to his wife Penelope, to his father
Laertes, and to his son Telemachus. His very status as a hero depends upon the
success of his return home.
I was thinking about Odysseus last
weekend at Los Angeles International airport. As Colin Firth accepted his
heroic, long-deserved best actor Oscar forThe King’s Speech – a familial odyssey for George VI of a slightly different kind – I was on
my way home. I caught the early part of the ceremony in the departure lounge,
and boarded my London-bound Virgin Atlantic flight just moments after Kirk Douglas had shown us what old-fashioned-movie-star charisma used to be. So I calculate
that at near enough the exact moment that Colin Firth’s feet left the ground
so, too, did mine (in a more obviously practical sense). I fell asleep during
take-off. I’m not sure Colin has landed yet.
The Diary: Tom Hiddleston
March 3, 2011 1:09 pm
By Tom
Hiddleston
Before deciding to become an actor, I
read Classics at university and my favourite lyric poetic epic is still the
Odyssey. Homer’s eponymous hero – the guy we’re all rooting for – is a man of many wiles: a sailor, traveller, warrior, lover, and adventurer. But perhaps the
most important reason why Odysseus achieves the glory of eternal renown is
simply because, after 10 years in Troy, and a further 10 at sea, he makes it
back home. He returns to his family: to his wife Penelope, to his father
Laertes, and to his son Telemachus. His very status as a hero depends upon the
success of his return home.
I was thinking about Odysseus last
weekend at Los Angeles International airport. As Colin Firth accepted his
heroic, long-deserved best actor Oscar forThe King’s Speech – a familial odyssey for George VI of a slightly different kind – I was on
my way home. I caught the early part of the ceremony in the departure lounge,
and boarded my London-bound Virgin Atlantic flight just moments after Kirk Douglas had shown us what old-fashioned-movie-star charisma used to be. So I calculate
that at near enough the exact moment that Colin Firth’s feet left the ground
so, too, did mine (in a more obviously practical sense). I fell asleep during
take-off. I’m not sure Colin has landed yet.
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