Read It's Only a Movie: Alfred Hitchcock for Free Online Page A

life he described himself as “neglectfully religious.” His mother was of Irish descent. His father was descended from a long line of English Catholics.
    William Hitchcock was a wholesale and retail greengrocer and fruiterer who had a store in Leytonstone and who dealt with the market at Covent Garden. “When I was shooting exteriors for Frenzy in London,” Hitchcock said, “a very old man came up to me who told me he remembered my father when he bought and sold vegetables at Covent Garden.
    “Some of my happiest memories were on the rare occasions when my father took me with him to the countryside. He would buy a whole field of cabbages and that sort of thing.
    “My parents didn’t require me to work in the store, as my older brother and sister did. Perhaps I disappointed my father because I never showed any interest in his business and no inclination to follow him into it. I could not imagine how a wilted lettuce leaf could be of such concern to him.
    “Though my father made a comfortable living as a greengrocer, dealing in perishables contributed to a certain feeling of insecurity in our family. My father had a conservative nature, but his occupation put him in the position of being a speculator. In a way, it’s not so different from my own field. Though I am in no way a gambler by nature, the endeavor I have chosen as my life’s work has put me in a position not so different from that of my father—a speculator in perishables. But no one in our family ever went hungry. That’s the advantage of being the child of a vegetable and fruit dealer.
    “My mother was a homemaker, as they say. It was her full-time career, as was the accepted custom in those days. I don’t remember ever coming home and not finding her there.
    “Our house was always perfectly kept. Immaculate. I took it for granted. My mother was meticulous about our home and her person. She never left the house without presenting herself at her best, her posture, her demeanor, her dress, her shoes, perfectly polished, a well-kept handbag, inside as well as outside, and gloves whenever possible. I have always admired a lady who wears gloves.
    “Ingrid [Bergman] wore gloves, and I thought it very sexy, the way she took them off. I always thought it was more sexy if a woman revealed her secrets gradually, rather than indulging in overexposure.
    “My mother was well groomed and properly attired, even when she was cleaning our home. She would put on a big white apron that was spotless and had a starched ruffle, covering everything but her sleeves.
    “She was not a complainer. I never heard her complain. She was also not a gossip. I never heard her speak badly about anyone. Her concern was entirely for her family. She did not have women friends dropping over. At the time that did not seem unusual to me. I observed the same thing about my wife. They had full lives and did not need more.
    “My mother was a good cook. My father brought home the best greens and even some imported luxury fruit he might have spotted on his visit to the Covent Garden Market. Fresh milk was delivered to our house.
    “I liked to shop with my mother on the High Road and especially to visit the bakery where I was always given a free cookie or two. The bakery had the most wonderful aromas. Like perfume. Lemon Cake Number 5. Guerlain Ginger Biscuit.
    “My mother liked to cook, but she didn’t care about baking, so our kitchen did not have the same delightful scents as the High Road bakery. I was able to fully enjoy the experience because it was before I ever heard the word ‘diet.’ Plumpness in very small children was considered ‘cute’ and even a sign of good health. It reflected well on the parents and their prosperity, and showed they were taking good care of their child.
    “I remember my father going to work in a dark suit with a very white starched shirt and a dark tie. I never saw him when he wasn’t clean-shaven. It wasn’t for the cabbages. It was a matter of