Benedict Cumberbatch and Jessie Buckley read love letters between Albert Camus and Maria Casarès

Name: Benedict Cumberbatch and Jessie Buckley read love letters between Albert Camus and Maria Casarès
Uploaded: 2025-12-14T06:23:35.416Z
Duration: 4 min
Channel: Benedict Cumberbatch
Description: As 1959 ended, days before Albert Camus' fatal car crash, he and actress Maria Casarès exchanged what would become their final letters after fifteen years of love.

Benedict Cumberbatch

Dec 14, 2025

As 1959 ended, days before Albert Camus' fatal car crash, he and actress Maria Casarès exchanged what would become their final letters after fifteen years of love.

Christmas Eve, 1959. Thank you, dear Prince, for all your attention and all your kindness. After an exhausting day in Paris, the whole household falls asleep happy and peaceful. I'm strutting around in my waxed serré coat. It cost me 30,000 francs with the hat. I haven't forgotten our agreement, but I thought we couldn't wait for your return to celebrate the new year and exchange our gift. I saw Les Negres. Blin's work was remarkable. In the play, there's too much farting for my taste. I've read the manuscripts. I did the shopping. I'm still reading Lost Illusions by Bolzac, reserve mine. As for the rest, I await your return to tell you, to talk to you, to say to love, to laugh together. I also await your return to marry you. I think you need a year, at least, away for a few weeks. I await you to go see Sartre's play and some films. Mine, for example, which I believe must pass in January. I await you so you can bring a little fresh air into this Parisian cave, where it is too humid for the dust to immediately turn to mud. I await you. I await you, round and smiling, my thighs heavy from the absence of the stage. And while waiting, I kiss you breathlessly. End. 30th of December, 1959. Well, last letter. Just to tell you that I'm arriving on Tuesday by road, travelling back with the Gallimards on Monday, they're passing through here on Friday. I'll call you when I arrive, but perhaps we could already plan to have dinner together on Tuesday. Let's say, tentatively, to account for any unforeseen circumstances on the road. And I'll confirm the dinner by phone. I'm already sending you a cargo of tender wishes, hoping life will spring forth in you throughout the year, bringing you the dear face I've loved for so many years. I fold your raincoat in the envelope and include with it all the sons of my heart. See you soon, my magnificent one. So happy at the thought of seeing you again that I laugh as I write to you. I've closed my files and no longer work. Too much family, too many family friends. I no longer have any reason to deprive myself of your laughter, of our evenings, or of my homeland. I embrace you. I hold you close until Tuesday, when I will begin again. Hey.