In Memoriam
Died suddenly in Bangkok, Thailand, January 24th, age 91.
Cremation to take place Thursday, Feb 2nd, 2 p.m. local time in Bangkok (2 a.m. here in Canada) and in the presence of good friends.
Visitation and service in Ottawa, Canada, sometime the following week. Arrangements in the care of Hulse, Playfair and McGarry.
Charles was in wonderful spirits leaving for this last of his long journeys and it appears that he died peacefully in his sleep. More information to follow.
Please post tributes and condolences here. These memorial pages and this website that Charles was working on when he died will remain in perpetuity. Charles was very interested in making more of his work available through this site and new material from his personal papers and literary work will be added, in accordance with his desires. Not long before his death he completed his memoir of gypsy life and I will post some excerpts here soon.
Deeply loved and sadly missed. An adventurer to the end. An exemplary spirit.
“What thou lovest well remains — the rest is dross.”
Ezra Pound
Caitlin
January 29th, 2006 at 11:22 am
The following appeared in the Swansea Evening Post:
LAST OF THE GANG GOES
KATHRYN LAY
KATHRYN.LAY@SWWP.CO.UK
10:00 – 28 January 2006
The last of the “Kardomah Gang” has gone – to quote his most famous friend – gentle into that good night. Charlie Fisher was the last member of Dylan Thomas’s pack of friends who drank together in the original Kardomah cafe in the 1930s.
His death, at the age of 91, marks the final chapter in the most important and alluring era in modern Welsh literature.
Fisher, along with literary and artistic figures like Dylan Thomas, Daniel Jones and Vernon Watkins, cut a lively figure at the cafe before the war.
A renowned poet, storyteller, traveller and former Post reporter, who Dylan once called “the flesh of my flesh, the bone of my bone”, Fisher left England for Canada in 1953, but retained close links with this country and with Swansea.
Dave Woolley, from the Dylan Thomas Centre, recalled Fisher’s electrifying appearance at the Dylan Thomas Festival’s 50th anniversary of Dylan’s death in 2003.
He said: “He was special to us, being the last of the Kardomah Gang, as they have become known, but the important thing too is that he was a great character and writer in his own right.
“He was a larger than life figure and his appearance at the Dylan Thomas Centre was memorable. Although he was 90 years old he had almost total recall of those times with Dylan almost 70 years before.”
Dylan Thomas expert Jeff Towns says Fisher’s persona, his zest for life and his style, left a lasting impression upon him.
“I was fortunate enough to know a good few of the Kardomah boys and they were all remarkable,” says Mr Towns. “But Charlie was perhaps the most remarkable. He cut such an amazing figure.
“In later years he looked like a cross between Geronimo and Timothy Leary, with his long white hair swept back in a ponytail and those angular features.
“He really lived life to the full.”
Fisher was a well-loved and revered figure on the Canadian literary, artistic and political scenes.
His love of travel was not hampered by his advancing years and his rich poetry forms a travelogue of some of his best-loved corners of the globe.
He is reported to have passed away peacefully in his sleep in a hotel room in Bangkok.
A portrait of Fisher, by Swansea artist Ceri Thomas, hangs in the Dylan Thomas Centre.
Fisher is survived by a sister, Doreen Whitford, who lives in Morriston, a daughter Caitlin and two grand-daughters.
February 1st, 2006 at 10:05 pm
From: dave walker
Date: Sun Jan 29, 2006 10:31:13 AM Canada/Eastern
To: caitlin@yorku.ca
Charles couldn’t have picked a better place to die. A
quiet, tree-lined street not far from the famous, Khao
San Road, where you can hear music and the joyful
laughter of young nternational travellers as they pass
through Bangkok.
Charles loved it here and we spent a lot of time
carousing here.
February 1st, 2006 at 10:22 pm
RIP Charles Fisher
by Tim on Thu 26 Jan 2006 02:11 PM EST | Permanent Link
It was with sadness we learned to day that an old friend of ours, Charles Fisher, died peacefully in Bangkok on January 24th, aged 91 years. Details are currently unavailable.
Charles had done many things in his long life. He had hung around with Dylan Thomas, lived with gypsies in caves in Spain, worked for MI6 in occupied France during World War II, was a stenographer for Hansard in Canada, retired, lived in Almonte Ontario, and visited Thailand regularly for the winter.
Charles embodied an attitude to life that made us all want to emulate him.
He was a Welshman, and he partook of that fiery national spirit. He was an actor in his own drama, and unlike many of that kind, we did not tire of his play, ever.
Charles once declaimed, on the deck of the cabin at the Big Boodie weekend:” I can fill a ship with pirates of every race and nationality: Malays, Chinese, whites, blacks, anybody. But find me five men who can keep a secret – that is a challenge”.
Once when the dinner table conversation was flagging, Charles took a piece of cork, burnt it in a candle, and daubed his face and others’ with the cork. Suddenly we were all transformed into other personae: beasts, pirates, wizards. It was a magical transmutation. Wizards and poets are rare. They should be cultivated.
He made a point of never owning property. It was he who said that “you don’t need to own anything.All you need is access”. He had access to many interesting circles of society in many countries, because he was an adornment to all of them.
Charles was a regular invitee of the Big Boodie Weekend, a gathering of friends at my place in the Eastern Townships of Quebec. When he first came I was a little concerned that, as man in his mid-eighties, he would claim all kinds of privilege and special consideration. He would have none of it. He chipped in. He contributed to the fun, the conversation, the merriment, and the washing of dishes.
Once when he had been to several of these events, and had met my father on previous occasions at his neighbouring farm, I saw him and my father greet each other out on the driveway with effusive joy. Hugging and backslapping! I was astonished. My old man was not a demonstrative person, but I reckon that the two 85-year olds of such different natures were so glad to see each other hale and hearty. At their age, any differences between how they had lived their lives were of no further importance.
Charles was travelling with my contemporary Michel Frémont-Côté by car in the Townships and they stopped in at my parents’ place, maybe about seven years ago. Charles asked if he might use the bathroom. “Of course” my parents said. Forty-five minutes later, Charles emerged, having bathed himself.
When Charles and I walked down the treeline one summer, the pale crescent moon hung white in the afternoon sky. He immediately recited some Shakespeare from Romeo and Juliet,
“O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”
and made some point about how the lines should be pronounced.
The last conversation I had with him was sometime this fall (2005). He lived outside the city by the mill in Almonte, Ontario. We chatted for a while, and before we finished, he said, in his imperative actor’s voice: “Phone me the moment anything exciting should happen!”.
He is survived by his daugher Caitlin, who is a professor of literature at the University of Toronto.
Charles, it was a privilege to have known you.
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Re: RIP Charles Fisher
by pendragon on Sat 28 Jan 2006 04:08 PM EST | Permanent Link
Charles was a living gem, one of the last remaining gentlemen in the modern era. It was a privilege to know him. It was always amazing to me that he could accommodate this ghastly age and yet not despise it. His knowledge of politics, literature, music & philosophy was enormous, his heart generous, his soul wise. He enriched us all. Adieu, mon ami.
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by Ross at 02:40PM (EST) on January 26, 2006 | Permanent Link
I had the good fortune of meeting Charles but once. He was truly an exciting and vibrant man that seemed to have the habit of sweeping people up in his revelrie of *everything* in much the same manner as a wind storm. I’d always hoped that we would cross paths again, but it seems that it won’t be the case.
Tim Denton has written an excellent memorial of Charles. I was at the dinner Tim refers to…
Once when the dinner table conversation was flagging, Charles took a piece of cork, burnt it in a candle, and daubed his face and others’ with the cork. Suddenly we were all transformed into other personae: beasts, pirates, wizards. It was a magical transmutation. Wizards and poets are rare. They should be cultivated.
– via Tim Denton
I’ll never forget the gleeful pleasure he took from mischievously soliciting grown men to partake in such childish pursuits – over dinner no less.
Although I knew very little about Charles, it seems fitting to me that he passed on in Bangkok and left some mystery as to the method.
Fare well Charles. I thank you for the brief impression you left me with.
“The vitality of thought is in adventure. Ideas won’t keep. Something must be done about them.â€
– Alfred North Whitehead (1861 – 1947)
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February 2nd, 2006 at 1:16 pm
Charles was cremated at a beautiful temple Thursday Feb 2, 2 p.m. Bangkok time. We still do not know an exact date for repatriation of the remains or services in Ottawa, Canada but we hope to have information shortly. It will be posted here. Arrangements in care of the Central Chapel of Hulse, Playfair and McGarry, Ottawa, Ontario (613) 233-1143. You can contact them for details when these become available.
February 4th, 2006 at 2:29 pm
Marilyn and I have fond memories of visiting Charles and family in their new house just outside Ottawa in the early 60s – among them Charles’ assertion that there was nothing better than a little Vivaldi before breakfast… We, along with Peter Azmier and Charles, delighted in XK Jags.
Charles you will be remembered with affection.
Condolences to Bunny.
February 5th, 2006 at 2:38 am
Caitlin – I was the one whom helped maintain Charles’ personal computer here in Almonte. Charles often amazed me with his knowledge, left me comfortable with his friendliness, enlightened me with his outgoing spirit (i.e. provided a temporary home to those he described as wayward boys) and was always appreciative of whatever I did for him. I feel fortunate to have met him, to have become a friend of his, and I simply enjoyed his company.
February 6th, 2006 at 10:14 am
I will miss this wonderful man.
I have know since I was four years old,and over years he became my and my siblings Uncle Charles.
He was a fabulous friend to my parents,Eric and the late Lorraine Bolling,and a constant source of kindness and amusement. He spent countless hours playing hide and go seek, or pounding on the piano and chopping Easter bunnies in half with a sword, to the delight of several little girls in the days on Elgin st.
As we grew up Uncle Charles would have long disscusions on varied subjects with us. A gift he gave us was even as kids and young adults we felt we had captured his attention during any amount of time we were able to spend with him. Many interesting people were brought to our house for lively disscusion and games of chess.
Uncle Charles always took time to come to our house for Christmas Eve drop in, which was important to my father.
Caitlin was my first childhood friend, and news of her accomplishments always makes me smile,particularly hers and Jodi’s young daughters.
Uncle Charles has given me many books and poems over the years.
I could go on and on but will end with,
Love Carla.
February 7th, 2006 at 12:24 pm
INFORMATION ABOUT SERVICES IN OTTAWA, CANADA
Charles’ ashes are being repatriated today from Bangkok (via Vienna… he would like that)
Friends may visit at the Central Chapel of Hulse, Playfair and McGarry, 315 McLeod Street, Ottawa on Wednesday, February 8 from 2-5 and 7-9 p.m. Memorial Service will be held at MacKay United Church, 257 MacKay Street, Ottawa on Thursday, February 9th at 4:30 p.m.
February 7th, 2006 at 12:34 pm
Margarita and I, his spanish friends from Lanark County are going to miss our Saturday talks with Charles, but have the hope of seeing him again. Acts 24:15
February 8th, 2006 at 9:59 am
A harbinger of spring — Charles in his red sports car will be missed this year.
February 8th, 2006 at 6:55 pm
An institution on the streets of Almonte, he will be sadly missed. I always looked forward to seeing Charles pull in and hearing his stories of far away lands. He was a great supporter of the Rebound Reuse It Centre and our cause. Thank you Charles, for your zest for life, and teaching me that you are truly only as old as you feel. Thank you for the books, the visits to Rebound, and of course the many vibrant chats. God Bless.. Moira
February 9th, 2006 at 10:37 pm
To Caitlin,
The last time I ran into your father was in Almonte. He said it was as if he had seen a “ghost”. My mother and I do have the same eyes. As you know he was a good friend of both of my parents; Andree and Peter. My memories of him go back to before Mimi and I were born…photos of Jags. Photos of Charlie with his pipe in profile…Charlie Fisher and his guitar. I remember terrorizing his cats in his apartment on Elgin.Siamese cats hiding, and Fishcat; he was the best! I remember the synthesizer. I had never seen an instrument so grand..like your dad. I don’t know if Mimi ever told you of a game we used to play called “Pete and Charlie”. She was Pete and I, Charlie. We were famous musicians travelling the globe and waving to our admirers from balconies high. We were kids with vivid imaginations. The thing I remember the most though was sitting at your father’s table and dinking tea properly- strong enough to stand a spoon in and with as much sugar as we liked. Your dad will always be part of our family and so will you.
With love,
Julie
February 10th, 2006 at 4:56 pm
Charles was a regular at our fitness centre in Almonte. A testament to his zest for life. He will be missed. What a full and amazing life!
February 10th, 2006 at 5:37 pm
It is strange how in life – paths cross – even if only briefly. I met Charles Fisher only once, introduced to me by Patrick White. Charles had come into Perth to read at an Anthos Literary Fest. I took some photos of Charles for the website. Technology let us rview each photo as I took it. He remarked that he looked very “intense” in each photo – and I suggested to him that perhaps poets are supposed to look intense. He seemed amused. I regret my life’s path didn’t allow me to stay longer to hear him read. His life story was fascinating and I can only hope that I remain as robust and productive as him by the time I reach 91.
February 11th, 2006 at 3:47 am
One ‘school’ which Charles honoured with his humour and attention was Soto Zen. Here is a short text proposing the territory.
Zen is not a believer’s world. It is not for the faithful ones; it is for those daring souls who can drop belief, unbelief, doubt, reason… and enter existence without boundaries. While others are involved in philosophies, Zen involves a man in metamorphosis. It is authentic alchemy: it changes you from base metal into gold. Its language has to be understood, not with your reasoning and intellectual mind but with your loving heart. A moment comes that you see what has been eluding you your whole life. Suddenly, as it is said, “eighty-four thousand doors open”.
To such a proposition Charles would surely reply “Thirty blows” and offer a glass of armagnac.
Last October he wrote from Vienna
..Didn’t see pixies at the Tate, but did spend a couple of hours there viewing the exhibition of French (mostly) and English painters working around the turn of the last century. Seems only yesterday those paintings were new & controversial. Vienna is an elegant city, an architectural dream, there’s a sense of space and leisure here completely foreign to London. Saturday today and crowds of pedestrians are strolling around. One wd believe it to be Sunday. The boulevards are quiet. What one hears is not the noise of motorcars but conversations! How surprising to find such a civilised place in a world such as this has become. The internet clock ticks on. Must leave you. Best as ever aus Wien immer mein… I’m off to the Cafe Sperl, one of those great baroque cafes of Victorian days, to drink hot chocolate and read Der Tagenblatt, which is what I do.
C C C C C
February 25th, 2006 at 10:02 pm
I met Charles in the original Le Hibou coffee shop on Rideau Street in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, where many met and enjoyed his presence, wisdom and knowledge.
I had the honor of buying what may have been his first Flamenco guitar which he was to replace with a better Ramirez, and it served me well for a number of years.
Charles – always interesting and gracious. I shall miss you, though we spent quite little time together.