Charlie Chaplin "autobiography"

I was born Charles Spencer Chaplin in Walworth, London on April 16, 1889. I have an older brother, Sydney, but he’s only my half brother- same mother, different father. I was named after my father, but he was a drunk. He died when he was thirty-seven. My mother, Hannah, was a music hall entertainer. Both her physical and mental health fluctuated during my youth. One night, when I was five years old, she became sick during a performance. I went out on stage and sang in her place. I knew then that I loved performing, and I loved it when the audience threw money at me.

It was difficult for my mother to make enough money to support me, Syd, and herself. Syd and I had to share a single pair of shoes, taking turns going from place to place. My mother slipped into insanity. We were constantly made fun of and the authorities separated the three of us for a year. By the time I was fourteen, I was forced to have her committed to an institution. I don’t like to remember my childhood.

When I was about seventeen, Syd introduced me to Fred Karno, who led a vaudeville troupe. I succeeded in impressing him, and I subsequently became a member of the troupe. It was during my time in this troupe that I fell in love with a dancer, named Hetty Kelly. I asked her to marry me, but she, being only sixteen, felt that she was too young. I then asked her to wait for me until I returned from the troupe’s planned trip to New York.

While spending time in New York, I started to become fascinated with the movies. I got a telegram one day from Mack Sennett from Keystone Pictures, who offered me a job in California. He promised $150 per week. I was off to Hollywood within the next month. When we I met Sennett, he did not believe that I was Charlie Chaplin. He said that Charlie Chaplin did the best drunk he had ever seen and that I was too young to be him. I immediately went into my drunk routine, which convinced him. He took me and said, “Forget everything you ever learned, you’re not in the theater anymore.”

At first I was terrified by the movies, but it soon became very natural to me. I walked into a room of costumes and tried many different things on. Sennett and the rest of the crew grew angry as they waited for me to get myself dressed. “I thought I would dress in baggy pants, big shoes, a cane and a derby hat. Everything a contradiction: the pants baggy, the coat tight, the hat small and the shoes large.” I put white make-up on my face, along with heavy black eye-liner, and finally a thick, black moustache. From this outfit came my infamous character: The Tramp. “I had no idea of the character. But the moment I was dressed, the clothes and the make-up made me feel the person he was. I began to know him, and by the time I walked onto the stage he was fully born.”

After making numerous movies with Sennett, and being proclaimed an asset to Keystone Pictures, I decided that I wanted to run my own show; I wanted to direct, and have my own studio. Sennett often doubted me and became sick of me always wanting more. I went on to form United Artists in 1919, with my good friend, Douglas Fairbanks, his wife and “America’s Sweetheart”, Mary Pickford, and director, David Wark (D.W.) Griffith. I married Mildred Harris one year earlier. Our marriage was rather brief. I believe that being married to her debilitated my creative abilities. We divorced not long after our son, Norman’s birth, and death only three days later.

In 1921, I made a very dismal and depressing visit to London. On this trip I learned that Hetty had not only married another man, but she had also died of diphtheria during the war. Besides being overwhelmed by the news, I was overwhelmed by the deluge of attention that I received from the public. Some of the attention was negative-jealous men who were poor or unemployed. Yet I still felt greatly annoyed, and even somewhat depressed from the positive attention. I felt as though I had no home.

I returned home, and after a short while, “talkies” were growing in popularity. I refused to believe that they would ever catch on. I felt as tough adding dialogue to a film would take away its universality. Those who did not speak English would no longer be able to watch a movie spoken in the English language. Besides, the Tramp could not talk! The magic would be gone if he talked. “The minute he talks, he’s dead.”

I married Lita Grey in 1924. I had to marry her in Mexico. In America, it would have been illegal for me to marry her, for I was thirty-six, and she was merely sixteen. Wit her I had two sons: Charles Jr., and Sydney. Our divorce was horrible, but I tried to keep it out of the public out of respect for my sons.

I found myself greatly affected by the war and the Depression. I hated Fascism and Nazis and was very public about it. I was often criticized about my political