Hello, I'm Kirsty Young and this is a download from the Desert Island Discs archive. This edition may be slightly different from what was actually broadcast, but it is the only version we have. From the British Library's radio collection. The recording didn't contain the guests' eight music choices, so we rebuilt the original show by using discs from the BBC. Gramophone Library. For rights reasons, we've had to shorten the music. Full details can be found on the Castaways page on the Desert Island Discs website. The programme was originally broadcast in 1979 and the presenter was Roy Plumley.

On our desert island this week is the writer Patricia Highsmith. Miss Highsmith, could you endure prolonged loneliness? I think I could, better than most... People probably. You have lived on your own quite a lot. Yes, and also at some distance from friends or neighbours. How much does music mean in your life? Quite a bit. I would not like to think of a day without listening to some kind of music, and in fact any kind. I think the reason is... When I become lost or I get discouraged or something, any kind of music has a beat to it, whether it's classical or pop. And it's like another kind of time that you, you get back, I get back into a certain ability to move. You play the piano yourself? I used to, I wouldn't dare speak about it the way I play, but for my amusement, yes. Do you play discs a lot? No.

I have them at home but usually I switch on the radio to France music. It's very good all around the clock, not late at night. Very good stuff. How did you set about choosing your 8th disc? Are you choosing nostalgically or great music? Well, I... Performances? It was what I happened to like, or what I consider inspired or thrilling somehow, and that I have pleasant associations with, too. What do we start with? I think it was the Mozart piano concerto, wasn't it, number 23? Number 23, yes. Why do you choose this work? I think it was because it was one of the first ones when I was, oh, 20 years old.

Older so that I liked as my favorite Mozart at that time.

The first movement of the Mozart piano concerto number 23 in A major, Gheza Anda conducting and playing with the Camerata Academica of the Salzburg Mozartium. You're from the United States, where abouts? Texas. How long did you stay in the South? Not very long, until I was six years old. Was a little unsettled, wasn't it? - Well, yes, my mother, she liked to change apartments pretty frequently in New York, I don't know why. Various parts of Manhattan. Highsmith is in fact the name of your stepfather. Yes. My parents were married for two years. And my mother decided to get a divorce five months before I was born. Did you know your real father? Yes, I met him when I was 12 years old, very briefly. Who brought you up, Medley?

My grandmother, I was very small, I was born in her house and my mother remarried when I was three years old. Both your parents were commercial artists, were they successful? Yes, they were successful. I wouldn't call it great success. So you went to New York when you were, what was it, six? Six. You had a Texas accent? Yes. School, Columbia University. What subjects did you read? English literature and English composition. Sounds very strange, but short story and playwriting, oddly enough, which I can't... Do to this day. So after graduation day what happened? Well I moved away from home into what would be called in England a bed-sitter. Yes. And got some terrible job just in order to pay the rent. When did you start to write? Well I suppose when I was 21 and you know away from home

It's working in the evenings because I had a full-time job in the daytime. Then I learned how to write these comic books, which I could do freelance, meaning... I could earn twice as much money as a job and have twice as much time. What sort of subjects did you specialise in? The science fiction a bit. And then something like Captain Marvel which was a form of Superman. Yes, well the plots and the dialogue and then one handed that to the artist. No, I mean sometimes it was fun. It's like thinking up three grade B or C films every day. Beginning, middle and end. It was just a way of paying the rent. Let's break off at this point for your second record. What next?

Oh yes, Rachmaninoff, the second piano concerto, which I think is very dramatic. I had an artist friend, a painter, and she was doing a portrait of me and she sometimes put it on to play, so I associate it with that.

And her own seriousness.

The Rachmaninoff second piano concerto with the composer at the piano. You were slaving away at your comic books. When did you start to write your first novel? I made a bad start, I think, at age 23 on a novel that I... 22, in fact. I never finished it. It became more than 300 pages long and I stopped it. I was down in Mexico and I absolutely ran out of money so I had to come back. You've gone down to Mexico to write. Yes. What was the theme of the first one? What sort of... Oh, it was rather gothic. It was about a poor boy adopted into a rich friend's home. Yes. And several people living in the home and something about a hidden jewel.

I think it was a terrible plot. This is why I never finished that one. So it was back to plotting copying books for a bit until you were financially stable. Yes, but that is when I began to do the freelance at home, which I did until I was 28. And then Strangers on a Train was published when I was 28, I believe. That was your first completed book? Yes. Was it accepted by the first publisher you sent it to? When it was half done, it certainly was not. Rejected six times by New York publishers, six publishers, and they said no one can bring off this ending. But when I did finish the book, it was taken by the first publisher, which happened to be Harper & Row now. And it was bought by a celebrated director? Yes, very soon, maybe thanks to a New Yorker, very small but good review. Hitchcock took an interest in it and bought it. And made a celebrated film?

Now contrary to public opinion, unless you're a big name author, there's not a lot of money in film rights. That's true, especially if the book has not had a big sale beforehand. If the book has had a big sale, even for a first book, then the writer can raise the price. But certainly I couldn't because the book had only a moderate sale. And you went ahead with your second novel. Now there's a rather curious institution to English eyes called Yaddo. Yes, I would call it an artist's colony. I hate the word colony, but it's in Saratoga Springs, about two hours from New York City.

New York State. And it has room, I think, for something like at present 60, 65 writers during two summer months or sometimes six weeks. And it doesn't cost anything, but you have to be recommended by three people in your field and be engaged on a certain project. And then I think about, well, if 400 people apply, and they do every year, something like 65 are chosen because otherwise there's no more room. This is private, this is up to date. It's subsidized by the Trask family who used to own the land. It's hundreds of acres of pine forest. It's very pretty, very comfortable. There's a private bath for everyone. And you have breakfast around 9 o'clock until 9.30. It's comfortable hours, but you pick up a workman's lunchbox.

Tea or coffee and so forth, or what kind of sandwiches do you like. Then you go to your room and no one is allowed to disturb you until 4.30. This sounds a very civilized institution. I wish we had something like this. I wish so. Oh, yeah. Now, you wondered... To Europe quite early? Not too early, I was again 28 I think, well, Strangers on a Train had just been published and I... They'd been looking forward to seeing Europe's island and this made travel possible. Yes Good record number three. What's that? That is the coffee cantata of Johann Sebastian Bach and this I like because it's one of the few which is sung in German instead of Latin and it's also comical about... A young girl whose father wanted to stop drinking coffee because it was a new institution.

And so the song that I like, the father says she can't get married unless she stops drinking coffee. And so she says, Alright, I'll stop. I prefer to get married.

An excerpt from the Bach Coffee Cantata sung by Elie Amelie. Now let's talk about some of your novels, Miss Heismann. I think it was your third or fourth book, The Talented Mr. Ripley, which

Introduced a running character Tom Ripley. He's been the leading character in what, three, four novels? Three, yes, and I'm working on the fourth now. I said leading character and not hero because he's not a very heroic man. He's amoral and a crook and he kills people, but he's still accepted by your readers as An acceptable leading character. Yes, he is popular, I think because of the crazy amusement value. There is a running theme through all your work, an investigation of the sense of guilt. Now does Ripley have a sense of guilt? Not in the usual sense. That's the reason he is a bit different. I think now he's killed something like eight people. In three books? Yes. Have you studied criminal psychology? Not seriously.

Policeman? No, perhaps I should. Now all your books, with the exception I think of one, introduce Murder Most Foul, and the one without murder, the exception Edith's Diary, your usual publisher didn't want to, I believe, because it wasn't bloodthirsty enough. Oh, that was rejected by Knopf in the United States, which I can't understand it. Your books feature American men and foreign backgrounds in England, France, Italy. Pretty soon. You've been living in Europe for a long time now. Yes, about 17 years I think. In England for quite a while. England nearly... Oh yes. Generalising women are not important characters in your books? Oh that's right because I...

Well, two reasons. One, I need often physical strength for the plot. And secondly, I don't associate women with going after an abstract objective. I think they're frequently stuck at home, as is Edith. Yes. ...in need of his diary, but again, I used a woman there because it makes it more tragic that she is stuck. That she can't just fly off so easily as her husband did. Let's have record number four. This is Saint Matthew Passion. I like a certain chorus in it called In Tears of Death. In English. Yes, that's the last chorus. That is number 78 as I recall.

The last chorus of Bach's Somathew Passion, a performance by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Herbert von Karajan. Do your books take a long time to write? Your output isn't very large, is it? No, not compared to Simon's own. What's the interval between the appearance of your books? Oh, at least a year. I think sometimes two years. Sometimes I write short stories in between. How many drafts do you write? Three. That's your rule? Yes, because I think I don't write...

Very smoothly to begin with and then I often have to cut. Are you a disciplined writer? Do you work regular hours or a certain number of words a day? I like to do eight pages... I don't always do it. Only this last book I had very upsetting past year and didn't always... Make it. Eight pages what? In longhand first of all? No, I write it on the typewriter. You do all your... Typing all the drafts? Yes, I do. And a regular time of day? Well, I usually say the afternoons. I think I work four or five hours a day, sometimes six hours. Often I can... For an hour and a half after dinner. Do you keep notebooks? Yes, very definitely I do. Sketches for characters I do. Situations. Yes, I have a section for ideas, sometimes I make a note of three... Long. If I know something is turning into a novel then I know that...

I'm going to make about 14 pages of notes over a period of time, of course, before I can get started on it. And wait and see which idea ripens first. Well, about the novel, it's a matter of working out the movement of the plot, I suppose. And then, of course, many ideas that I get, they're not worth turning into stories or To go back to them. How carefully do you work out the plot before you start writing? Do you just get the beginning and the end and then wait and see what happens in the middle or have you got the whole thing more or less drafted in your mind? I have mainly the beginning and the end, and I hope there's enough, well, there's got to be the certain momentum. By the time I reach the middle, I'm usually not stuck because it keeps on going. How often have you had to abandon a novel halfway through? Only twice. My first two.

Therefore it's... Your second book I think you published on Norm De Plune. Why was that? No particular reason. I thought it was outside of the mystery genre. Record number five. That is Pul Joey which I think is a brilliant piece of... Popular music. The Inn of Iniquity sung by Vivian Siegel and Harold Lang. In our little den of iniquity, our arrangement is good. It's much more healthy living here. This rushing back home is bad, my dear. I haven't caught a cold all year. Not one would. It was ever thus since antiquity. All the poets agree. you know

den of iniquity sung by Vivien Seagal and Harold Lang from the 1952, was it, or 1954 New York production of Powel Joey. Now more than most writers, Miss Highsmith, you're popular with filmmakers. We talked of Strange Just on a Train, your first book. Now since then, Alain Delon has played Ripley. How many films of your books have been made now? - I think five, if I count The Blunderer, which was French. And it's called The Murderer in French. And it was not much of a hit. It was respectable in the United States, but not as much of a success as Purple Noon. The first Ripley. And then there is The Sweet Sickness which hasn't yet come to London. It's French called Dite Louis Coujoulem and then the American from the third Ripley, and the glass cell is already made in Germany but has not come to London as yet.

And there have been other novels on which options have been taken by film directors, but they haven't yet been. Yes, options there are always a few around. But the Germans just bought Edith's diary and I'm sure that will get off the table. How much do you get involved in filmmaking? Oh, very, very little, because I try to keep out of it and not annoy anybody. If they... He asked me do I want to see the scenario. I said, Oh, sure, I'd be delighted. Screenplay yourself? No, I have absolutely no talent at all for that. You did write a treatment of Deepwater. Yes, but nothing came of that not so much because my script might have been dreadful, but because the producer

Unfortunately, as Raul Levy, who committed suicide. You've written a play, you said that you didn't think much of yourself as a playwright, you have written a play. I think nothing of myself as a playwright, but I tried to, yes, I tried to write a play and fortunately never saw the boards. You talked Sort of filling in time as it were with Short Stories. You have in fact published several volumes of them. Is there a market for Short Stories now? There seem so few magazines about in which they can originally appear. Maybe it's picking up lately. At least in Germany they... One of my... she worked with my publishing house, a girl who's almost like an agent, and she said, We have not got enough of your Short Stories. Can't you send us some more? No, this is fine. So it's no longer a byproduct. No, I never thought of Short Stories as a byproduct. I have quite a respect for them. There's a new book of them...

Yes, it's called Slowly, Slowly in the Wind. Some of them are rather gruesome. Absorbing. I hope so. Now, you're just finishing your fourth Ripley. Have you got an idea what you're going to do after that? Frankly, I haven't. I think I will relax with a few short stories after this. It's rather a long book, this fourth Ripley. Another record, please. Gustav Mahler, Symphony No. 6. Why did you choose that? He sounds very troubled. He sounds like present-day life, in a sense. And I like his orchestration.

part of the second movement of the Mahler Sixth Symphony, the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Carrie Young. One of your short stories is about a couple of people on a desert island. What happens to them? What's it about? That's about the professor of zoology and he wants to discover a new species and he's heard about a giant snail or snails. So he investigates the island on his own and indeed he finds the snails. They're about 15 feet high to the top of the shell. the shell and he's eventually killed by them. They slowly pursue him until they get him. You've got a thing about snails anyway, haven't you? I mean, you kept them as pets. Yes. You're a snail watcher. I used to be, not so much lately, but yes, for years I kept them, yes. Well, I'm sure there'd be snails or something of the sort to provide social life on your island or interest Could you look after yourself on a desert island? Well, I don't know how if there's

There'd be water, there's everything you need to sustain existence providing you have the aptitude, the application and whatever. Oh, I suppose I could, yes. You have a a large garden to your house in France, that means that... You're a cultivator? Yes, I don't spend a lot of time. I would have to spend an hour a day just to keep it tidy, really. I do plant American corn, for instance. I get the seeds from America. And I always have a few tomato plants. And there are fres de bois always around the edges. Would you try to escape? Oh, surely. You would, if there seemed any chance, if means became possible. Yes, because I'm not that much inclined to solitude. Right. What number seven are we about to? Number seven is the Iberia suite of etudes, as a matter of fact.

By Albanius, played by Michel Bloch, and I think this is very refreshing, very poetic. week.

Rondegna from Iberia by Albeniz, Michel Bloch. Which brings us to your last disc, just one more. This is the Lullaby of Birdland, the George Shearing version, with the composer George Shearing on the piano.

A little backing, as they say. George Shearing, Lullaby of Birdland. If you could take just one disc out of the eight. Would it be? I would take the Rachmaninoff second piano concerto. And you're allowed to take one luxury with you? Writing materials. For the next novel.

Or whatever. And you're allowed one book apart from the Bible and Shakespeare which are already on the island I would choose Moby Dick by Herman Melville Melville's Moby Dick and thank you Patricia Highsmith for letting us hear your desert island discs. Thank you

Goodbye everyone. You've been listening to a download from the Desert Island Discs archive. For more downloads, please visit the Radio 4 website. For more downloads, please visit the Radio 4 website.