"Jotta piittaisin ruumiistani, minulla pitäisi olla piittaamisen arvoinen ruumis. Jo pienestä pitäen minä tunsin pelkkää häpeää hyödyttömästä maallisesta majastani. Se ei osannut syöttää, lyödä eikä ottaa kiinni krikettipalloa. Se ei osannut tanssia. Se ei osannut hiihtää, sukeltaa eikä hypätä. Kun astuin baariin tai klubiin, ruumiini ei vetänyt puoleensa ahnaan himokkaita
"Jotta piittaisin ruumiistani, minulla pitäisi olla piittaamisen arvoinen ruumis. Jo pienestä pitäen minä tunsin pelkkää häpeää hyödyttömästä maallisesta majastani. Se ei osannut syöttää, lyödä eikä ottaa kiinni krikettipalloa. Se ei osannut tanssia. Se ei osannut hiihtää, sukeltaa eikä hypätä. Kun astuin baariin tai klubiin, ruumiini ei vetänyt puoleensa ahnaan himokkaita katseita eikä edes lievästi kiinnostuneita vilkaisuja. Siinä ei ollut mitään muuta hyvää kuin toiminta aivojeni polttoainekennona ja sellaisten myrkkyjen kaatopaikkana, jotka saattoivat tuoda minulle nautinnon huumaa ja syitä hilpeyteen. Ehkä koko jutussa on oikeastaan kysymys rinnoista. Tai niiden puutteesta."
Kun Stephen Fry aloitti opiskelut Cambridgessa, hän oli aikamoinen lurjus. Hänet oli tuomittu petoksesta ehdonalaiseen vankeuteen, hän oli varastellut ja valehdellut läpi kouluaikansa. Jatkuva kiinni jäämisen pelko kalvoi häntä, eikä hän uskonut koskaan sopeutuvansa.Opiskeluajasta tuli kuitenkin hänen elämänsä käännekohta.
Hän tutustui muun muassa Emma Thompsoniin ja Hugh Laurieen ja löysi itsensä esiintymislavalta, viihdyttäjän roolista.Fryn aikakirjat on äärettömän rehellinen kuvaus ajasta, jolloin kaikkien tuntema näyttelijä, älykkö ja koomikko alkoi löytää itsensä ja paikkansa maailmassa. Yksityiskohtaiset paljastukset nuoruusvuosista rakentavat kuvaa syvästi tuntevasta, syvästi itsekriittisestä ja syvällisen nokkelasta nerosta. Loistavasti kirjoitettu elämäkerta on täynnä piinallisia, älyllisiä ja leikkisiä tarinoita, unohtamatta verratonta ajankuvaa sekä brittiläisen kulttuurimaailman läpivalaisua.
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This was a quick read as I love Stephen Fry and have been curious about his career. His writing is lyrical, captivating and a linguistic joy to read, he has a seemingly effortless ability to conjure whirling syntax and employ endless alliterations and double rhyme scheme. The downfalls of this work were an inexcusable amount of repetition, self deprecation to the point of farce and mindless name dropping which did tend to disconnect the reader. It also would have served well to be much shorter.
This was a quick read as I love Stephen Fry and have been curious about his career. His writing is lyrical, captivating and a linguistic joy to read, he has a seemingly effortless ability to conjure whirling syntax and employ endless alliterations and double rhyme scheme. The downfalls of this work were an inexcusable amount of repetition, self deprecation to the point of farce and mindless name dropping which did tend to disconnect the reader. It also would have served well to be much shorter. And yet, I loved his masterful use of language, his honest insights into his own struggles and misgivings and the British mischievousness and turn of phrase many have come to love him for. I liked this book - I just wanted to like it much more.
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"Hullo. Most awfully sorry to bother you and all that, but I'm Stephen Fry and I thought that just possibly - if you are most unutterably consumed with tedium and are simply the most heinous glutton for punishment - you might like to read my second memoir, the story of a liar, a fraud, and a fake. And a national treasure, apparently. But I'm not too sure about that last one at all."
For me there are various Stephen Frys. The Fry of
Blackadder
, the Fry of
Stephen Fry in America
and the Fry of
QI
. This book seemed very much written by the Fry of
QI
, diffident, knowledgeable, charming - and at times a tad outrageous. This is my favourite Fry, so I was fine with that.
His original thinking and love of language fill the book with finesse and wonderfully unpredictable perspectives. His love of words rather less so. There are a few cascades and pools of words where you just have to
For me there are various Stephen Frys. The Fry of
Blackadder
, the Fry of
Stephen Fry in America
and the Fry of
QI
. This book seemed very much written by the Fry of
QI
, diffident, knowledgeable, charming - and at times a tad outrageous. This is my favourite Fry, so I was fine with that.
His original thinking and love of language fill the book with finesse and wonderfully unpredictable perspectives. His love of words rather less so. There are a few cascades and pools of words where you just have to hold your nose and dive in, in order to get through them.
I was particularly smitten with his description of his years as a student in Cambridge, and his love for the city and for that life. I lived in Cambridge in my late teens – I worked there in a bookshop – and much of what he said resonated with my experiences. It is a magical place, and it was great to have that magic evoked once again. He really does this beautifully, and I was quite filled with nostalgia.
Fry took to the world of acting with a vengeance, belonging to several clubs in Cambridge and sometimes literally running from one play to the next. He is a lovey to the core. Perhaps the archetypal lovey to end all loveys. His unfortunate experiences as a book reviewer illustrated to him how impossible it was for him to be rude about anyone.
”There are all kinds of responses and attitudes that can justify the art and practice of reviewing, but none of them, not a one, addresses the question of how you live with yourself if your wicked wit, shrewd insight and scornful judgement will have hurt someone, will have them crying themselves to sleep. Or worse still, how you can live with yourself if you realize that you have become the kind of person who does not even
care
that they regularly cause pain, suffering, discouragement and loss of self-regard in those trying to earn a living in their field?”
Instead he prefers looking at people through a veil of unmitigated admiration. He name drops. Of course he name drops. He puts all his friends on pedestals, and is awed by their success. He wants us to be awed too.
More surprising are the passages about the angst that he experiences. His severe disgust with his own behaviours and acting abilities. These are interspersed with references to great happiness - happiness in his friendships, his successes, and all the toys and luxuries that his burgeoning wealth can confer. He frequently talks about the difference between the image he projects, and what he is actually feeling inside. These extremes between happiness and self-loathing seem to reflect realistically his diagnosis of bi-polar disorder.
I was also surprised to read about his partner relationships, and lack of these relationships. But throughout the book Fry is unbendingly honest - in fact that seems the bottom line for his writing - that he will be totally honest about himself. He therefore talks about his love life or lack of it as candidly as anything else.
I personally have a lot of time for nice people, all the more so when they come with a wallop sensitivity, intelligence and originality. Stephen Fry has all of these things. Plus a wonderful seasoning of humour. What a sweet man and what a fabulous writer. A great read.
I didn’t like this nearly as much as I hoped I would. Look, it isn’t an awful book – it is nicely put together and is mostly interesting. I think my main problem with it is that a lot of it is about very well known people Fry knows and has worked with padded out with descriptions of shows he has been in. Some of this is interesting and even funny. A lot of it becomes a bit the same after a while. I became a bit tired of hearing about how incredibly talented or funny or talentedly funny or funnil
I didn’t like this nearly as much as I hoped I would. Look, it isn’t an awful book – it is nicely put together and is mostly interesting. I think my main problem with it is that a lot of it is about very well known people Fry knows and has worked with padded out with descriptions of shows he has been in. Some of this is interesting and even funny. A lot of it becomes a bit the same after a while. I became a bit tired of hearing about how incredibly talented or funny or talentedly funny or funnily talented someone or other was and I can only assume probably still is.
There are things I like about Fry – I like anyone that can write an autobiography and say honest things about themselves. However, there is a certain masochistic tendency to Fry that is a bit reminiscent of how I feel about myself too frequently for me to have any sympathy for him.
Fry is someone, and he says this about himself, that everyone wants to project their own image onto. This image is not necessarily their own image, but an image of what they would like him to be. In my world he would be better read and more interested in ideas than in the cars and other symbols of success he seems obsessed with. But this is mainly because I have no interest in those things and find it sad to hear someone going on about them as if they mattered. Oh, look, I know he is very self-deprecating even about these foibles and when he starts talking about his numerous cars he explains why he thinks he has them – but even that becomes a bit tedious after a while.
It is hard not to like him, though. We Anglo-Celtic-Saxon types generally don’t like or trust intellectuals. And that could easily be a definition of our ‘race’. And so to like or trust them we need them to be either witty or eccentric. Fry has perfected the art of being both, he is witty and eccentric and is considered intellectual as well. The danger is – as with all comedy and eccentricity – that what people find delightful and charming and wonderful today they find, and in equal measure, the perfect excuse to despise and loathe and ostracise over the next.
There is a part of me that suspects that his life for the eight years or so that this book covers probably was much as he sets out here – lacking in sex, but overflowing in money and success and work. And I guess it would be hard for him to talk about things other than work as he probably didn’t have much time for much else and anyway, he might have to say things about his famous friends that might complicate matters.
This is a fan’s book. The stark light is turned inward and often what is shown isn’t terribly attractive, but I guess we are sometimes attracted more to the ugly side of others. Nevertheless, it wasn’t nearly as interesting a read as Moab is My Washpot – volume one of this continuing saga – and volume three sounds like it may not be much to look forward to. I’ll probably read it when it comes out, though.
I must get around to watching Blackadder one of these days. Everyone raved about it when it was on and so some time later I got out the first series and watched that and really couldn’t see what people saw in it – I’ve found out from this book that the first series was crap and it only took off with series two. Like I said, must get around to watching it at some stage.
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I was all set to LOVE this book, and then it ends right before he takes his first hit of cocaine -- just
stops.
I guess he felt the book was long enough, or it would take 2 or 3 times its length to get into his drug abuse (after all the time he devoted to sugar), or he didn't want to go into it all.....but God, it ends
so
unceremoniously. That's really disappointing.
That said, the book is pretty amazing -- everyone told me it's not as good as
Moab is My Washpot
, and no, it's not, but there are s
I was all set to LOVE this book, and then it ends right before he takes his first hit of cocaine -- just
stops.
I guess he felt the book was long enough, or it would take 2 or 3 times its length to get into his drug abuse (after all the time he devoted to sugar), or he didn't want to go into it all.....but God, it ends
so
unceremoniously. That's really disappointing.
That said, the book is pretty amazing -- everyone told me it's not as good as
Moab is My Washpot
, and no, it's not, but there are still many amazing passages. Also, every psychiatrist should read this to see pretty much just what a bipolar consciousness feels like from the inside.
I am a Fryophile. The first half of this is perfect! --Until he begins to mercilessly name-drop (moar liek name-bomb). A note to Stephen: we don't care about them. We care about YOU.
“I am sure that I am right in locating my first addiction here. Sugar Puffs were the starting link in a chain that would shackle me for most of my life. To begin with, as you might imagine, they were a breakfast habit. But soon I was snacking on them at any time of day until my mother began to sigh at the number of p
I am a Fryophile. The first half of this is perfect! --Until he begins to mercilessly name-drop (moar liek name-bomb). A note to Stephen: we don't care about them. We care about YOU.
“I am sure that I am right in locating my first addiction here. Sugar Puffs were the starting link in a chain that would shackle me for most of my life. To begin with, as you might imagine, they were a breakfast habit. But soon I was snacking on them at any time of day until my mother began to sigh at the number of packets she was forced to buy. I would eat the sweet pellets loose from the box. One after the other, without stopping, into the mouth they would go. I was like an American at the cinema with popcorn: eyes glazed, hand rising and falling pack-to-mouth, pack-to-mouth, pack-to-mouth like a machine.
“ ‘Eyes glazed’. Is that important? A child at the breast or bottle has that look. There is a sexual element to such unfocused fixity. Until I was about eight or nine I sucked the first two fingers of my left hand. Almost all the time. While twiddling the hair on the crown of my head with the fingers of the right hand. And always with that glazed, faraway look, with parted lips and laboured breath. Was I giving myself the breast treat that I had been denied? These are dark waters, Watson.
“Cereal-packet lists of ingredients and serving suggestions were my literature; thiamine, riboflavin and niacin my mysterious invisible friends. Sold by weight not volume. Contents may have settled during transport. Insert finger under flap and move from side to side. They’re Gr-r-r-r-r-r-r-eat! We like Ricicles, they’re twicicles as nicicles. And so they were. In fact, as I liked to say, they were thricicles as nicicles. Certainly much nicicler than their staid, unsweetened parent, Rice Krispies…”
.
"All you need know is that I, my 128 kilobyte Macintosh, Imagewriter bitmap printer and small collection of floppy disks were all very,
very
happy together. What possible need could I have for sex or human relationships when I had this?"
.
"Alan Bennett was out in the street, attaching bicycle clips to his trousers.
" 'Are you going to join us for spaghetti?' I asked him.
" 'Yes, do!' said the boys.
" 'Oh no,' said Alan, in slightly shocked tones, as if we were inviting him to a naked orgy in an opium den. 'I shall cycle home and have a poached egg.' "
.
"Although we were not really well known and certainly like as famous as Harry and Ben were becoming, there was a sizeable enough demand for us in college and university towns, it seemed, and a tour was arranged. We wrote and stared out of the window and paced up and down and bought Big Macs and looked out of the window and went for walks and tore at our hair and swore and watched television and bought more Big Macs and swore again and wrote and screamed with horror as the clock showed that another day was over and we looked at what we had written and groaned and agreed to meet again first thing next day whosever turn it was agreeing to arrive with some coffee and Big Macs."
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Didn't finish and had no desire to. I enjoyed Fry's previous volume of autobiography - Moab My Washpot - although I appreciate that this book was more of a delving into his adult years, it just wasn't anywhere near as entertaining. I was gripped during his narration of his time at Cambridge and was incredibly thrilled by the first appearances of Emma Thompson and Hugh Laurie and a bunch of other famous names, however I lost interest the minute he became a professional - name dropping is fine and
Didn't finish and had no desire to. I enjoyed Fry's previous volume of autobiography - Moab My Washpot - although I appreciate that this book was more of a delving into his adult years, it just wasn't anywhere near as entertaining. I was gripped during his narration of his time at Cambridge and was incredibly thrilled by the first appearances of Emma Thompson and Hugh Laurie and a bunch of other famous names, however I lost interest the minute he became a professional - name dropping is fine and natural when you are becoming famous, but it just gets too much and he does go on about how fabulous other people are, almost to the level that you just start talking at the book, "Yeah, Stephen, we know Emma Thompson is a great actress." or "Oh, you lived near Lady Di when you moved to so and so place in London and met her at a later date - yes, very interesting...." It's the little things that bring this book down and it's a real shame, because Fry has a proven record of being able to write and we definitely know that he can be and is very charming and funny. Really, a disappointment that breaks my heart somehow.
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At first I thought I was going to adore this biography. The opening chapter started with a caveat that is extremely close to my heart "in every particular I fail Strunk's Elements of Style or any other manual of 'good writing'. If a thing can be said in ten words, I may be relied upon to take a hundred to say it... I love words and whilst I am fond of the condensed and economical use of them in poetry, in song lyrics, in Twitter, in good journalism and smart advertising, I love the luxuriant pro
At first I thought I was going to adore this biography. The opening chapter started with a caveat that is extremely close to my heart "in every particular I fail Strunk's Elements of Style or any other manual of 'good writing'. If a thing can be said in ten words, I may be relied upon to take a hundred to say it... I love words and whilst I am fond of the condensed and economical use of them in poetry, in song lyrics, in Twitter, in good journalism and smart advertising, I love the luxuriant profusion and mad scatter of them too". He then explained his love for sugar.
Hallelujah thought I, finally a book which embraces my loquacious sugar- coated spirit. For the first few chapters I thoroughly enjoyed Mr Fry's adventures in ridiculous vocabulary. Then I realised, I might just loathe him as a person. He fully acknowledges that he is an arrogant twit but somehow this self-realisation did very little to quench my desire to biff him in the nose and tell him to wake up to the real world. Unfortunately this urge to biff continued for the majority of the book.
Happily, about 3/4s of the way through I began to warm to Stephen again, he became less of unbearable pompous upper-class git to more of a slightly amusing pompous upperclass git and by the end of the book I was enjoying his little rants/forays of inflection. I especially enjoyed the part in which he professes his love for fame and his thorough disappointment at the failure of anyone to recognise him following his first tv performance. This made me laugh a lot because about 10 years ago I happened to spot Mr Fry on Carnaby Street in London and (it being my first celebrity spot ever) exclaimed to my friend "Hey is that Stephen Fry?". He clearly overheard and shot me a look that would make milk curdle. Love fame my arse.
It was a fun book and I did enjoy it. It was a little much, perhaps, for one sitting and is something that should be dipped in and out of.
It is a rare individual who warrants multiple volumes of autobiography –
Stephen Fry
joins the heady society of
Russell Brand
and
Chris Moyles
in such a belief. Whereas
Moab is My Washpot
covers his childhood years – growing up, family life, schools, getting thrown out of schools, and ending up in prison –
The Fry Chronicles
tells of the later years – teaching, Cambridge, drama clubs, relationships, The Fringe, and so on, through to his success as playwright, columnist, actor and comedian.
Th
It is a rare individual who warrants multiple volumes of autobiography –
Stephen Fry
joins the heady society of
Russell Brand
and
Chris Moyles
in such a belief. Whereas
Moab is My Washpot
covers his childhood years – growing up, family life, schools, getting thrown out of schools, and ending up in prison –
The Fry Chronicles
tells of the later years – teaching, Cambridge, drama clubs, relationships, The Fringe, and so on, through to his success as playwright, columnist, actor and comedian.
This volume begins with an explanation of Stephen's addictive personality. We are introduced to his addictions to Sugar Puffs, sweets, cigarettes, coffee, in fact he appears to be able to become addicted to almost anything beginning with C (C12H22O11 is used to refer to all sugars generically and candy is also used for sweets). Obviously, the additional addictions to computers (the purchase of) and the implied addiction to another C substance come later; but disappointingly I was waiting with bated breath for his admission of debasing addictions to eating cabbage and chicken, visits to Cairo and dressing up as Chewbacca, none of which get even a mention. Strangely, not only does Stephen only seem to become addicted to things that begin with the letter C, but the letter seems to be the compass of his entire life. The book is broken into two halves: College to Colleague and Comedy. These two sections are further broken down into a number of sub-chapters each of which begins with the letter C. He's addicted to the use of the letter C apparently. The reason for this alliteration is never explained, nor is its existence ever referred to. Very strange indeed.
As you'd expect for Stephen, and indeed for almost any autobiography, the book is self-indulgent. We are treated to repeated sections describing his borderline self-loathing, his lack of self-belief and his need to continuously seek acceptance from others. His continual name dropping throughout the book is presumably part of that. We're supposed to be, not exactly impressed, but slightly 'wowed' that Stephen knows all these people as friends. Mostly because Stephen himself is 'wowed' by them himself. That said, his life does read a lot like a who's who of modern comedians, actors, writers, luvvies etc. There doesn't seem to be many people he hasn't met or worked with. Having really only come to him during his time on Saturday Live, and later A Bit of Fry and Laurie, the amount of work he appears to have generated prior to this staggered me. I thought I was a reasonably early fan, but was in fact quite late to the party.
This second volume feels a lot slicker and more grown up than the previous one – as it should – but that's also it's weakness. It's not as raw or revealing. Stephen seems a lot more comfortable with this part of his history than the earlier sections, and the book frequently risks falling into a stream of self-indulgent name dropping. There were some genuinely laugh-out-loud moments – I snorted loudly a couple of times which disconcerted a number of fellow passengers – but it's Stephen Fry dammit, he's a national treasure or institution or whatever, we love him both because and in spite of what he is.
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STEPHEN Fry is that person I manage to always see on TV or making an appearance in a movie. I never quite knew what it was about him that made him so likeable but there was definitely something there. I was on holiday with my family and had 'absolutely nothing' to read. A trip to the bookstore later and ‘The Fry Chronicles’ was mine.
I didn’t realise until well after finishing the book that there was one before it called ‘Moab is my Washpot’. Fortunately for me (and for any reader) this books sta
STEPHEN Fry is that person I manage to always see on TV or making an appearance in a movie. I never quite knew what it was about him that made him so likeable but there was definitely something there. I was on holiday with my family and had 'absolutely nothing' to read. A trip to the bookstore later and ‘The Fry Chronicles’ was mine.
I didn’t realise until well after finishing the book that there was one before it called ‘Moab is my Washpot’. Fortunately for me (and for any reader) this books stands on its own. Not having read the one prior to it had no real impact on my reading my level of enjoyment. The book is focussed on a seven year period in his life. Each chapter begins with the letter ‘C’ and document his time at Cambridge and his career as a working man. We are told everything from his release from prison to the meeting of some (to-be) very famous friends and the beginning of his career.
This book gave me a reason to love Stephen Fry. ‘Eloquence’ does not even come close to conveying the effortlessness with which he writes. I don't think I am capable of describing his writing style so here is a small excerpt which sums it up nicely:
“If a thing can be said in ten words, I may be relied upon to take a hundred to say it… I like words- strike that, I love words- and while I am fond of the condensed and economical use of them in poetry, in song lyrics, in Twitter, in good journalism and smart advertising, I love the luxuriant profusion and mad scatter of them too.”
Fry uses long and complex words. At one point during reading, I encountered a word so discombobulating that even google was unable to define it! One of the things I loved the most about this book was Fry’s love of words. I loved having to google definitions so that I could add them to my vocabulary. He is so passionate about the words he puts on the page that I could not help but develop the same enthusiasm.
This book is candid and sincere. It is written so honestly and with such delightful spatterings of humour that I was almost sad when I reached the end. I much preferred the first half of the book to the second. This is probably because a lot of the events, films and people referenced in the second half were ‘before my time’ and I became slightly confused at times. This did not lessen my enjoyment though. The Fry Chronicles was an absolute pleasure to read from cover to cover.
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A quote that's been regurgitated again and again this year is the most arrogant and smug thing I've read this year year, that Stephen Fry is "A stupid person’s idea of what an intelligent person looks like". I can't ever recall anyone regarding him with genius status. He's well learned and quite knowledgeable. Someone with a thirst for knowledge and a great memory. Yes, of course that doesn't equate to intelligence, but why be so arrogant about it?
There's a lot of Fry Haters out there. I guess
A quote that's been regurgitated again and again this year is the most arrogant and smug thing I've read this year year, that Stephen Fry is "A stupid person’s idea of what an intelligent person looks like". I can't ever recall anyone regarding him with genius status. He's well learned and quite knowledgeable. Someone with a thirst for knowledge and a great memory. Yes, of course that doesn't equate to intelligence, but why be so arrogant about it?
There's a lot of Fry Haters out there. I guess it's the inevitable backlash because he's well liked by so many. I'm one of the latter.
Anyway - the book. It's good but nothing of any breathtaking depth. It's mostly about the career path of him and his chums. He barely touches on subjects like mental health. I did enjoy the bit of probing he does on personality types such as himself but would have preferred to hear a bit more rather than haring so much about other people. Was surprised to hear he was in prison for stealing and that's not a spoiler, it's the very start of the book but otherwise no major surprises or revelations.
To be chalked up along side Mark Kermode, that's one more author who's the perfect narrator for his own audio book. Wouldn't have been right for anyone else to do it.
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I loved this, the second installment in Fry's quest to document his life, loves and complete mishaps. Stephen is brutally, unashamedly and occasionally ashamedly honest about his time at Cambridge and his initial forays into the world of comedy writing and performing. While this period does not have quite the same instensity as his first book it still has plenty of moments where you can't help but go 'Oh Stephen, really?' He is one of the few writers whose voices I can imagine as I read, which s
I loved this, the second installment in Fry's quest to document his life, loves and complete mishaps. Stephen is brutally, unashamedly and occasionally ashamedly honest about his time at Cambridge and his initial forays into the world of comedy writing and performing. While this period does not have quite the same instensity as his first book it still has plenty of moments where you can't help but go 'Oh Stephen, really?' He is one of the few writers whose voices I can imagine as I read, which shows how his use of the written word matches that of the spoken word and for that I love him all the more. Yes, there is a fair amount of name dropping in the later chapters but to me this came across mildly embarassing yet necessary as we follow Stephen's career from the small stage to the large. I can't wait until the next book (and in the meantime I'll continue to attack his fictional works and obsessively watch QI, Blackadder and others). He may not be everybody's national treasure but he is certainly one of mine.
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If you live in the UK it is highly likely that at some point you will have come across one our most treasured sons – Stephen Fry. Where do you start with him? Comedian, writer of fiction and non-fiction, quiz show host, blogger, radio, television, films, audio books, you’re probably starting to get the message that he does a lot. With such notable credits as Blackadder, Kingdom (2007-9), A Bit of Fry and Laurie (1987-95) on television and Wilde (1997), Gosford Park (2001) and V For Vendetta (200
If you live in the UK it is highly likely that at some point you will have come across one our most treasured sons – Stephen Fry. Where do you start with him? Comedian, writer of fiction and non-fiction, quiz show host, blogger, radio, television, films, audio books, you’re probably starting to get the message that he does a lot. With such notable credits as Blackadder, Kingdom (2007-9), A Bit of Fry and Laurie (1987-95) on television and Wilde (1997), Gosford Park (2001) and V For Vendetta (2006) on the big screen, and his own Twitter account, you’ll have done well not to hear anything about him, but with The Fry Chronicles, a sequel of sorts to Moab is my Washpot (1997), we are given further insight into the life of one of the UK’s greatest ever entertainers.
While Moab is my Washpot focussed on the first 20 years of Stephen’s life, The Fry Chronicles looks at his time at Cambridge University which led to his first appearances on stage and later a career in comedy while dabbling in plenty of other pursuits including adverts and writing plays. The book ends in 1987 when Stephen has filmed the second series of Blackadder and he and best friend, Hugh Laurie, are beginning work on their sketch show, A Bit of Fry and Laurie. It might seem like a small period of time initially but at 400+ pages there is so much information here about Fry’s life, interposed with many memories that fall outside the book’s main timeframe.
I’d previously only read The Star’s Tennis Balls from Stephen’s collection of books so was eager to see how an autobiography would read. Unsurprisingly, it is witty, with a delightful use of the English language throwing in many words I’ve never come across, but the main strength is to be found in Fry’s honesty. I often smiled at his frequent apologies for speaking of his career, particularly when revealing he has little if any problems when it comes to money, yet felt the need to keep saying sorry to those of us that may have felt he was showing off. I wasn’t the least offended, Stephen, you’re worth every penny. The book is divided into four sections, the first dealing with Fry’s childhood addiction to sugar in whatever form it was manifest. His love of all things sugary impacted years later with his weight ballooning to over 20 stone, though a change of lifestyle has now seen Fry shed much of this. The second section focuses on another addiction and this one is even more serious – tobacco. In both cases Fry talks about the moments he decided it was time to give up on both addictions. How did he fare? It’s not for me to tell.
The autobiography moves onto Fry’s time at Cambridge University. Having previously spent some time in prison, this was a fresh start and I found it amusing that such an undoubtedly intelligent man lived in fear of being found out he wasn’t clever and subsequently booted out of the university. Fry’s attendance at lectures was not good to say the least but his ingenuity in facing coursework and exams was simply amazing. Fry had a basic argument in mind that he could chop and change in his mind to suit just about any question under that particular subject. For example he may have had a general argument about a play by Shakespeare but when faced with a tough exam question Fry could just use the same material each time, rephrasing it in such a way that it answered the question perfectly. His high marks and cunning in applying himself to the many essays and exams meant he could ignore lectures and focus on the theatre which became his primary interest. A play, Latin! (1980) was a great success for Fry and highlighted his writing credentials. This part of the book also deals with Fry’s early sexual relationships and his friendships with some familiar names such as Emma Thompson and, of course, Hugh Laurie, who was a brilliant athlete and part of the rowing team. Hearing mention of familiar names on the comedy circuit in their early days was really interesting. Fry’s reservations about seeing a young comedian named Rowan Atkinson live one day and emerging from the show in agony from laughing made me smile. His appraisals of Emma Thompson and, in particular, Hugh Laurie, were also moving to read. The third section ends with Fry’s work on The Cellar Tapes, a series of sketches that included Hugh and Emma, winning a Perrier Award in 1981 and setting the trio on the road to stardom.
The final section is all about Stephen’s early career and even then his versatility was incredible. As well as working on The Crystal Cube (1983), Alfresco (1983-4), Saturday Live (1985-7), Fry also worked on a revised script for 1930s musical, Me and My Girl, which not only reached the West End but Broadway as well. Fry’s early career saw him encounter the likes of Ben Elton, Rik Mayall, Robbie Coltrane, Douglas Adams, Harry Enfield, Paul Whitehouse (very interesting background story as well), Alan Bennett, Rowan Atkinson, Richard Curtis and many more. I won’t deny that with Blackadder being my favourite comedy series of all time I was fascinated to hear Stephen’s account of work on that second series, in my opinion the best of the lot. For such a great performance as Lord Melchett, Fry plays down his contribution instead citing the honour and privilege he had of working with the likes of Tim McInnery, Tony Robinson, Miranda Richardson, Hugh Laurie and Rik Mayall. His greatest appraisal which I thoroughly approved of was for Rowan Atkinson as Blackadder who was simply outstanding as Edmund (that’s mine and Stephen’s opinion by the way.) The book ended on something of a cliffhanger with Blackadder II not yet aired and Stephen and Hugh working on A Bit of Fry and Laurie.
The Fry Chronicles has a series of quality photos to accompany Fry’s writing. It’s always frightening looking back on pictures of ourselves when we were younger and even more so seeing a young Stephen Fry particularly one snap where his hair is very long indeed. Unsurprisingly, this photo is accompanied by a less than flattering caption. Other photos include many of the actors and actresses Stephen has worked with over the years, as well as family photos as well, which are always interesting to see celebrities in their home environment. I can’t really think of any complaints with The Fry Chronicles other than I hope Stephen releases the next instalment of his autobiography sooner than he did with this one. There is a hint that a new book will appear one day but how long we’ll have to wait is difficult to say especially given how busy Stephen Fry is.
For fans of Stephen Fry this is an absolute must. Accounts of his time at Cambridge are great reading while his early forays into comedy and his reservations given the undoubted talents of his comedic contemporaries make Fry all the more likable. There is no arrogance in the writing or about his achievements. Everything is just complete honesty which makes for a refreshing read. Those who know little of Fry or his work will find an interesting autobiography. In short: this is not to be missed.
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Jemima Pett
What a superb review! I only have one quibble and that is with your opener. Is there anyone in the UK who does not know who Stephen Fry is? Ubiquitous
What a superb review! I only have one quibble and that is with your opener. Is there anyone in the UK who does not know who Stephen Fry is? Ubiquitous, but you never tire of him. I can't think of anyone else of whom that can be said. The person most listed as one's most-wanted dinner party guest.
I hadn't thought of getting the book... now I will!
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Jul 24, 2012 03:22AM
People who are professionally funny often have very serious histories, and
Stephen Fry
is no exception. I hope I don't have to rehearse in too much detail here all of the funny business with which Fry has been associated—
Blackadder
,
The Young Ones
and
A Bit of Fry and Laurie
being three well-known titles that show up in these particular pages.
And more, of course—although most of Fry's better-known work actually comes
after
the mere slice through the 1980s that this volume covers, during his year
People who are professionally funny often have very serious histories, and
Stephen Fry
is no exception. I hope I don't have to rehearse in too much detail here all of the funny business with which Fry has been associated—
Blackadder
,
The Young Ones
and
A Bit of Fry and Laurie
being three well-known titles that show up in these particular pages.
And more, of course—although most of Fry's better-known work actually comes
after
the mere slice through the 1980s that this volume covers, during his years at Cambridge and shortly thereafter. Addiction, self-pity and self-deprecation feature much more frequently than hilarious anecdotes within the large-print pages of this book... although his flight of fancy about the coming of women to Cambridge (starting on p.158) did have me laughing aloud.
Fry also turns out to be a dab hand with an epigram—not surprising, perhaps, given that he was once Punster General (or some similar title) for the British monthly
The Tatler
. Some quips of Fry's own include:
"Education is the sum of what students teach each other in between lectures and seminars." (p.83)
And this:
"Incuriosity is the oddest and most foolish failing there is." (p.87)
He loves words in general, in fact—the Table of Contents reveals that, its chapter headings all starting with the same letter (a T. of Cs, indeed).
Fry is also, endearingly, a geek—a Mac geek, at that, with a marked preference for the graphical operating system that Apple pioneered. He betrays himself as unusually technically literate for someone in "show-biz," saying for example (on p.300) that "To be the only person you know with a fax machine is a little like being the only person you know with a tennis racket." This observation strikes at the heart of the significance of network devices, and while I've seen the same sort of sentiment expressed elsewhere, I do believe that Fry's simile here is original to him. This avocation of Fry's led to friendship with the late, great
Douglas Adams
, and a dozen or so pages of
The Fry Chronicles
are devoted to that bond.
And, of course, there are loads of details about the many lives of Fry—student theatre at Cambridge, breaking into television and radio and motion pictures, first-hand reminiscences about the stellar actress Emma Thompson (a very early compatriot), Rowan Atkinson, Rik Mayall, Robbie Coltrane and other names now as well-known across the pond as in England. You won't find a lot of dirt about Fry's friends, acquaintances and occasional enemies in these pages, though... he reserves his most savage and cutting wit for himself, ironically self-aware of the falseness of modesty while displaying a touching insecurity that definitely does
not
come across on-screen. From his sexuality (or lack thereof—his 400-word defense of celibacy, published in the aforementioned
Tatler
, appears in full) to his abuse of mind-altering substances (starting in childhood with a sugar habit), Fry spares no aspect of his existence from at least some scrutiny. This honesty—and it does truly appear to be an honest account Fry's writing here—is refreshing and engaging.
The Fry Chronicles
does end abruptly, very much
in medias res
. What came before is chronicled elsewhere (in
Moab Is My Washpot: An Autobiography
, to be precise), and what is to come after about 1996 is to be published elsewhere too.
"How differently I might behave, if immortality were an option."
—Tom Stoppard, quoted on p.64
I, too, might behave differently—might read differently, better or worse—if I were immortal. But I'd still want to have read this partial memoir from one of Britain's funniest actors and writers.
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I enjoyed his first book, "Moab is my Washpot", because it's a surprise. He comes across as urbane and to the manor born, but he had a wild discontented youth and the incongruity (combined with his ruthless self-honesty) makes for a great read. This book, which covers his university years and ends at the end of the 80s, is less incongruous. To be blunt, life was great: he found his niche, he made good friends, he worked everywhere on everything, and he became fairly famous. It's not exactly the
I enjoyed his first book, "Moab is my Washpot", because it's a surprise. He comes across as urbane and to the manor born, but he had a wild discontented youth and the incongruity (combined with his ruthless self-honesty) makes for a great read. This book, which covers his university years and ends at the end of the 80s, is less incongruous. To be blunt, life was great: he found his niche, he made good friends, he worked everywhere on everything, and he became fairly famous. It's not exactly the stuff of conflict and misery, though there are a few delightful anecdotes.
That said, he is merciless when he turns his eye upon himself. The book begins by talking about his addiction to sugar, how his friends didn't have the compulsion that he did, and where it led him. Not many authors begin Vol. 2 of their autobiography by talking about stuffing their face with boiled sweets, stealing to buy candy, and declare the defining emotion of their youth to be a mixture of sugary ecstasy and guilt. And he gets more ruthless from there.
The bit that really rang home was where he talked about his diversity of work. He feels he's betrayed his talents by never writing The Novel or starring in The Play or .... Instead, he does a lot of a lot but never does the magnificent work in a particular field that defines the age. As a generalist myself, I empathize deeply with that. I've often felt that I could have and should have done more and been more. Not because I think I'm as clever as Stephen Fry, but because I don't think I've achieved to the 1/Nth of Fry's talent that I have. This sense of unmet obligation, duty, expectation is as crushing as depression. In fact, we haven't got to Fry's depression years (the book does end with the titillatory promise that there'll be something less cheery happening in his next volume) but I wouldn't be surprised if they were connected somehow.
Should you read the book? Yes, because the anecdotes are glorious and his writing is always a pleasure. I would have loved to have seen more detailed portraits of the people he encountered, and less of the VH1 "I Love the 80s" essays, but I didn't grumble too much about what I got. Did I mention the anecdotes?
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I enjoyed this autobiography and although it is quite thick, I got through it pretty quickly. I've always liked Fry due to his openness about his past issues - particularly those concerning his adolescence and so 'Moab is My Washpot' would be a better read to learn more about that. However, this book documents his 'adulthood' and I found it very interesting. I wouldn't normally enjoy reading about someone's experiences going through university or reading about an acting career, but thanks to Fry
I enjoyed this autobiography and although it is quite thick, I got through it pretty quickly. I've always liked Fry due to his openness about his past issues - particularly those concerning his adolescence and so 'Moab is My Washpot' would be a better read to learn more about that. However, this book documents his 'adulthood' and I found it very interesting. I wouldn't normally enjoy reading about someone's experiences going through university or reading about an acting career, but thanks to Fry's writing, it was a very enjoyable read. Fry's sense of humour is fantastic and you can sense this and his personality through his writing - there is no mistaking who is writing when you read through it - I simply adore his writing and the way he puts things. I found myself laughing out loud at parts and reading as though I was a 'friend' of Fry. A really good read.
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"Monolog disguised as an excellent conversation "
A very entertaining book, with some real insights into british society or educational privilege and the consequences on individuals, in this case mostly positive. Also a lesson why those early networks will help the talented excel in their chosen professions.
This is monolog disguised as conversation intending to be an autobiography ; do not expect chronology, it works most of the time because Stephen Fry is a very charming man that can also write
"Monolog disguised as an excellent conversation "
A very entertaining book, with some real insights into british society or educational privilege and the consequences on individuals, in this case mostly positive. Also a lesson why those early networks will help the talented excel in their chosen professions.
This is monolog disguised as conversation intending to be an autobiography ; do not expect chronology, it works most of the time because Stephen Fry is a very charming man that can also write well and intelligently, with ease and and a genuine feeling of sincerity.
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“Information is all around us, now more than ever before in human history. You barely have to stir or incommode yourself to find things out.
The only reason people do not know much is because they do not care to know.
They are incurious. Incuriosity is the oddest and most foolish failing there is.”
Ever since the first time I saw a QI episode I have been in complete awe of this man’s immense vocabulary and general knowledge. The fact that he narrated this audio book made it almost feel as if he
“Information is all around us, now more than ever before in human history. You barely have to stir or incommode yourself to find things out.
The only reason people do not know much is because they do not care to know.
They are incurious. Incuriosity is the oddest and most foolish failing there is.”
Ever since the first time I saw a QI episode I have been in complete awe of this man’s immense vocabulary and general knowledge. The fact that he narrated this audio book made it almost feel as if he is sitting right next to me having a little chat and I loved it!
The first 1/3 of the book focused on Fry’s addictive personality. From his first love of sugar to more grown up addictions. I absolutely loved this section and it made me realize that I should rather have started with his first book
Moab Is My Washpot
as I enjoyed the stories of his childhood much more than those of his life as an adult.
Unfortunately there are also some things I did not like….
I have to agree with a lot of other reviewers that the ridiculous amount of names of people he met/worked with/admired were listed so frequently that it tainted my overall enjoyment of this book somewhat.
The charm of this book really does not lie in the story but rather in the storytelling. His love of language and insatiable curiosity is what I admire and enjoyed most
I can only recommend this to die-hard Stephen Fry fans.
I understand that this is the second biographical account of Mr Fry. Moab is my Washpot covered the first 20 years of his life and published in 1997. while I can understand the logic of producing a 'developing years' biography, then penning the rest later on I'm not sure why Fry has to go all The Hobbit on us with his life's tale.
Frustrations with the conclusion of this piece aside - what is it actually like?
Well to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure.
The book starts with an apology for being apol
I understand that this is the second biographical account of Mr Fry. Moab is my Washpot covered the first 20 years of his life and published in 1997. while I can understand the logic of producing a 'developing years' biography, then penning the rest later on I'm not sure why Fry has to go all The Hobbit on us with his life's tale.
Frustrations with the conclusion of this piece aside - what is it actually like?
Well to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure.
The book starts with an apology for being apologetic, not a great start in my opinion. However Fry does deliver as promised, not a polished positive spin on himself, but a genuine expose. The problem is between Fry's predictable verbosity and florid prose I suspect he has succeeded in keeping much of who he is secret. Sure he candidly reveals many parts of his life, such as his reaction to fame (sometimes perceived fame) and his famous colleagues. However I often found myself wondering if Fry was skipping over much of what I thought biographies were about, namely the relationships in his life, and the moments those relationships changed.
Fry does discuss his entire platonic admiration of Hugh Laurie (House,) his envy and worship of Rowan Atkinson (Bean) and others such as Emma Thomson and Rik Mayall. But somehow I felt like much was missing. Perhaps as Fry begs mercy for, his life is indeed plain, or more likely he simply did not wish to delve too deeply into content which related to those closest to him.
I'm also none too sure how Fry chose his material for discussion, at times I felt bored by the long lists of names, and while his QI-esque forays into historical or factoid discussion were often enjoyable, they were just as equally dull and diminished the true interest of the piece (Fry himself) although as suspected above Fry may have intentionally been avoiding this subject.
If it sounds like I totally hated this book, this simply isn't the case. The Fry Chronicles are by no means a bad read - Fry's languid prose is such that the book is an ease to read from cover to cover. Fry's insights into the human and his own condition are often not only astute but at times heart-rendering. Despite being frustrated that this piece has a to be continued I am enthused enough to wait with baited breath for the next, and pickup his previous to delve into more Fry-insight...
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[As the title suggests] Stephen Fry herein chronicles his life, or another section of it at least (see
Moab is my Washpot
for a more comprehensive biography of Fry’s younger years) and including the beginnings of his launch into television, but not quite his launch into stardom. There is, it seems, another volume to come. Excuse me while I wriggle impatiently in my seat. There.
I’m already an unashamed and inveterate Fry fan, but I think this book would serve as a reinforcement to
“No, but hush.”
[As the title suggests] Stephen Fry herein chronicles his life, or another section of it at least (see
Moab is my Washpot
for a more comprehensive biography of Fry’s younger years) and including the beginnings of his launch into television, but not quite his launch into stardom. There is, it seems, another volume to come. Excuse me while I wriggle impatiently in my seat. There.
I’m already an unashamed and inveterate Fry fan, but I think this book would serve as a reinforcement to anyone circling the Fry fandom; it’s the man’s quirks, vulnerabilities, flaws, endearing traits, towering and extraordinary strengths, story, connections and influences laid bare; an
essence du Fry
(I have no idea if that means what I think it means, sorry) as much as a written history.
He’s one of few subjects, to my mind, whose biography might maintain your interest, but whose
auto
biography will fascinate, delight and entertain you, while imparting a certain introspective wisdom (and some pitiful moping, which will either annoy you or make you want to pat him gently) and plenty of pertinent facts. There are the hoped for anecdotes - two students meeting and saying ‘hullo’ a few times never took on more significance – and unexpected byways. And, of course, it’s a potted history of an era of British Comedy. And all of it is written in Fry’s own paradoxical brand of humility (which, he claims, stems from a perceived whomping arrogance, which is wrought from hideous insecurity which… well, read the book) and, more importantly, with that lunatic and lovely wordiness for which we value him, and gladly consider him one of our ambassadors of British brain and wit.
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I'm torn between 3 and 4 stars for this, but if I want to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, it's Stephen Fry. He's erudite, verbose, witty and self-deprecating - in short everything that I appreciate most in a writer, and indeed in people in general, although few people can measure up to Fry. Someone who can (in my view) is Bill Bryson, and there were numerous situations throughout the book where, when reading them, I almost shouted out loud, "That's just like hearing Bill Bryson!" Granted,
I'm torn between 3 and 4 stars for this, but if I want to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, it's Stephen Fry. He's erudite, verbose, witty and self-deprecating - in short everything that I appreciate most in a writer, and indeed in people in general, although few people can measure up to Fry. Someone who can (in my view) is Bill Bryson, and there were numerous situations throughout the book where, when reading them, I almost shouted out loud, "That's just like hearing Bill Bryson!" Granted, they have different nationalities (although only partly; Bryson is a self-imposed American expatriate in England), different personalities and different backgrounds, but I also find them to have a great deal in common. I, at least, love them both.
What has me leaning towards three stars is the outrageous name-dropping in especially the last part of the book. On more than one occasion, he would literally name perhaps fifteen-twenty names in a row, mostly unbeknownst to me as they were from the British theatre scene in the 1980's, and get quite carried away about details from the theatre life at the time. On the other hand, some of the theatre anecdotes were delightful, and I loved hearing about how he met Emma Thompson, Hugh Laurie and Rowan Atkinson, and how Blackadder (which I love!) got started. His descriptions of his Cambridge days were the best, I felt, and I was perfectly content to wallow in those reminiscences for pages on end. Or rather minutes (if not hours) on end because I listened to the audio version, enjoying Fry's own voice reading aloud, sometimes performing (to peals of laughter from me), scenes from his life, described with deliberate circumlocution and endless alliterations. Towards the end the self-deprecating is taken a step too far, but all in all it is Stephen Fry, true to form and a tweedy twit of the very best kind.
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I read
Moab is My Washpot
and found it interesting, so I thought I'd really like this one. I was wrong. I'm not at all sure if I liked or even enjoyed this book. I wanted to because I really like Stephen Fry, but it was at times painful to read.
Firstly, autobiographies are morally tricky for me to read. I always as if I'm opening up another person's secret diary and I can't help but to shudder and feel ashamed for reading it. I really like Fry, but some things I didn't want to know. And it's no
I read
Moab is My Washpot
and found it interesting, so I thought I'd really like this one. I was wrong. I'm not at all sure if I liked or even enjoyed this book. I wanted to because I really like Stephen Fry, but it was at times painful to read.
Firstly, autobiographies are morally tricky for me to read. I always as if I'm opening up another person's secret diary and I can't help but to shudder and feel ashamed for reading it. I really like Fry, but some things I didn't want to know. And it's not my business to know this.
Secondly, I don't like mentioning things just to mention it. Sometimes the book falls into a gleeful harangue of name-dropping (all probably very famous people and successful at what they do) sometimes with adjectives attached to them. To me, it seemed really indignified and petty.
The reason this book receives two stars instead of one is the language. It had me smiling, gasping and laughing out loud at times, even though some of what it conveyed wasn't interesting. The way Fry can turn a phrase is quite remarkable and is probably why I kept at it.
The book hints at continuation with a cliffhanger (if there ever can be such a thing in a biography). The question is, am I willing to go through the same agony again to know what happens? Perhaps. That will probably be revealed in a future review, if ever. I the meantime, I'll be off to other books.
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This book was, for quite a while, my personal Holy Grail. I sought in every new bookstore, used bookstore, book-swap (both in-person and online), and even actually
ordered
it online, only to have the order cancelled when the site sheepishly admitted they couldn't find it. I tried to find it in e-book format, despite some lingering prejudice against the medium I can't seem to excise from myself (even when all good sense would point to it being a positi
A little background before the actual review:
This book was, for quite a while, my personal Holy Grail. I sought in every new bookstore, used bookstore, book-swap (both in-person and online), and even actually
ordered
it online, only to have the order cancelled when the site sheepishly admitted they couldn't find it. I tried to find it in e-book format, despite some lingering prejudice against the medium I can't seem to excise from myself (even when all good sense would point to it being a positive thing. I simply can't overcome the feeling, the smell of an actual solid book in my hands. It doesn't help that I'm a book-petter, and e-readers and computer screens don't lend themselves to that tactile experience), but even that I could not lay virtual hands on. But finally,
finally
,
finally
...I found it. I went somewhere I rarely ever go and stumbled across a bookstore I'd never been to before. While wandering around, I laid eyes on it--two hardcover copies sitting innocently on the top shelf.
Hallelujah!
, as they say.
So then I started reading it, but I had to stop for a week while I went on vacation. After the epic quest to find the darn thing, I wasn't about to lose it while adventuring elsewhere, so it stayed safely at home. Not to mention that mass market paperbacks are easier to transport than their bulky hardcover brethren. But I returned from vacation, I sat down with it, and I've finally finished it! Hurrah! Now then, on with the review:
Mr. Fry is, as always, delightfully witty, funny, and thought-provoking. That last is most important to me. A writer who can engage you is a good writer. A writer who can make you think is a great writer. A writer who can make you think about
yourself
is one of the best writers of all. As odd as that may sound, it's true. 'Oh, but I think about myself all the time!' you may say, or perhaps you know someone who fits that description. What I mean is not the self-absorbed kind of thinking about oneself where no one else matters and your opinions are the only ones that count, but the kind where you are examining and questioning yourself and your personality and behavior and opinions. It's a rare writer who can do that. Mr. Fry is one of them.
I will say that this book was a little less ordered, a little messier than his first autobiography--or maybe it just seemed that way because it wasn't always chronological. At any rate, it does jump around a bit. Regardless, this was just as excellent as the first book.
Both books have one particular quality that endears them to me.... It's comforting to find out that even someone who appears to have it all is still subject to feeling embarrassed and fearing failure and worrying about their appearance and the million other things that torment the average person. It's comforting to know that someone else fell down (through no fault of anyone else's) and still managed to pick themselves up. Very comforting.
Also, I discovered something heartening about myself while reading
Moab
and
Paperweight
and this book. I can totally and completely disagree with someone about something, and still admire and respect them anyway. What a lovely thing to discover about oneself.
Anyway, enough about me. This book is excellent. I wouldn't recommend it for everyone, but if you're a Stephen Fry fan, go for it!
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Oh dear - I looked forward to this book, and if ever I was convinced I'd enjoy a book before starting to read it, this was the book.
Every one of Stephen Fry's previous books - factual and fictional - have been a joy to read. I'm also a massive Stephen Fry fan, so this really was going to be my reading highlight of the year.
As with many things in life, the anticipation was the most exciting and rewarding part of the journey.
For once, Stephen Fry let me down. The whole book started off badly - an
Oh dear - I looked forward to this book, and if ever I was convinced I'd enjoy a book before starting to read it, this was the book.
Every one of Stephen Fry's previous books - factual and fictional - have been a joy to read. I'm also a massive Stephen Fry fan, so this really was going to be my reading highlight of the year.
As with many things in life, the anticipation was the most exciting and rewarding part of the journey.
For once, Stephen Fry let me down. The whole book started off badly - an apology for the pompous verbosity we were about to suffer from the author. Stephen, Stephen, Stephen - it's your pompous verbosity we love, so for goodness sake don't apologise for it. But this was just the taste of things to come - the book became a. a list of people he'd acted with and b. a list of apologies for traits in his character.
Time after time he states that he wants and needs people to like him - yet just as often, he tells us things he doesn't like about himself. It's an age old truism that if you don't like yourself, others won't like you either. Much as I love the whole package that is Stephen Fry, I did find this book very hard to like.
He tells us a lot of things about himself that is fairly self-evident to anyone who reads his writing, watches him performing or indeed just enjoys him being himself in his various online and onscreen guises. He's pompous, can be a bit arrogant, stands for everything that the "traditional cliche" of the Englishman is meant to be, he's extremely clever and multi talented. He also keeps telling us how very, very rich he is. And then he apologises for everything.
We all know that Stephen Fry has his black times - it's part of the complex collection of traits which makes him vulnerable, attractive and .... human to most of us. But apart from the odd stanza in this second instalment of his autobiography - and the odd part of it does stand out as a beacon of loveable Fry-y-ness - you do get the sense that he's written this book whilst his mind is at the very bottom of one of his black troughs.
I think I can understand why he's written this book - he's almost ashamed of a lot of what life has given him, and I think he genuinely wants to apologise for many of the traits which a minority of people dislike about him. It's almost as if this book has been written to appease the 0.00001% of admittedly noisy Fry- dislikers in this world. But what about the other 99.99999% who actually quite like him?
Maybe there is a method to his madness - maybe we'll see loads of reviews from "Fry-dislikers" saying how this book has turned around their opinion of him. But then the "Fry-dislikers" are hardly likely to read this book in the first place, are they?
I'm not sorry I read this book - there were some really uplifting, insightful and entertaining passages in it. They struggled for air space amongst so much ankst though. But the ankst itself was fascinating, if a little painful. A bit like life itself really. So although this book doesn't get a great mark from me, it's a strange one, because it was very compelling reading, but in a car crashey sort of way. And I would still give my right arm to have the talent Stephen Fry has in his right, small fingernail, even just the white bit of that fingernail.
You just know his next book is going to be brilliant.
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Oh, Stephen. I wanted to like it, love it, adore it. I really did. His essays, columns, novels, and arguments are always brilliantly concise, laconic, and profound. But make him sit at the other end of the microscope and all the wit and conviction for which I adore Stephen Fry is displaced by the rambling streams of consciousness I first encountered in MOAB IS MY WASHPOT. The book is part sugary sweet awards-acceptance-speech, buckling under the weight of dropped names, and part therapy session,
Oh, Stephen. I wanted to like it, love it, adore it. I really did. His essays, columns, novels, and arguments are always brilliantly concise, laconic, and profound. But make him sit at the other end of the microscope and all the wit and conviction for which I adore Stephen Fry is displaced by the rambling streams of consciousness I first encountered in MOAB IS MY WASHPOT. The book is part sugary sweet awards-acceptance-speech, buckling under the weight of dropped names, and part therapy session, overrun with denial and the deflection of any awards or praise for himself.
I was determined to finish the book and did so having culled this message from the 200+ pages: "Everyone I've ever worked with is an absolute darling. Let me give you a list of those with whom I have worked. I, however, am worthless. Why you are reading this in the first place is beyond me. Have I convinced you that I'm an idiot yet? No? Well, then I'll repeat this fact throughout the book." Those hoping for his extended opinions of life, death, politics, philosophy, ethics, or art should look elsewhere. If you really care about what he thinks of himself and his colleagues, I suppose it could be an intriguing read. But isn't that what Twitter and Facebook are for?
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so here's the thing. i'm in London. i love London, i really do. and i love bookstores. so i go to a bookstore in London (um, actually several) and this book is everywhere. and i like Stephen Fry. so there ya go. came home with this book. (and, if i have to be honest, a couple -- er, okay, a few more.)
this particular book covers the period from around the time he went to Cambridge and his early career. it ends before the career that i'm familiar with starts -- i.e. Laurie & Fry, Jeeves &
so here's the thing. i'm in London. i love London, i really do. and i love bookstores. so i go to a bookstore in London (um, actually several) and this book is everywhere. and i like Stephen Fry. so there ya go. came home with this book. (and, if i have to be honest, a couple -- er, okay, a few more.)
this particular book covers the period from around the time he went to Cambridge and his early career. it ends before the career that i'm familiar with starts -- i.e. Laurie & Fry, Jeeves & Wooster, etc. he writes just the way that you would imagine. he's wryly funny; very English. and there are no big revelations. he doesn't tell you nasty secrets about his colleagues and friends, which is fine with me. i hate reading petty bullshit and gossip from somebody who has lived a very fortunate life. Fry knows how fortunate he has been and that comes across in this gentle and gentlemanly memoir.
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I am very surprised and slightly disappointed to be giving this book a 1 star review ( really, it should have been a zero star review).
I had read Moab is my Washpot and loved it. I like Fry's forays into comic writing and acting on British television.
But I found reading this book an extremely aversive experience- so much so that I barely finished it. Fry descends into the sort of verbose narcissism that is hard work to enjoy.
If I were to summarise my review
a la Fry
it would read as follows:
'H
I am very surprised and slightly disappointed to be giving this book a 1 star review ( really, it should have been a zero star review).
I had read Moab is my Washpot and loved it. I like Fry's forays into comic writing and acting on British television.
But I found reading this book an extremely aversive experience- so much so that I barely finished it. Fry descends into the sort of verbose narcissism that is hard work to enjoy.
If I were to summarise my review
a la Fry
it would read as follows:
'His prolix pomposity encouraged the deviation of my attention from the examination of this exposition'
On the upside though, and maybe worth the one star after all, I
did
learn some new words.
...more
Stephen John Fry is an English comedian, writer, actor, humourist, novelist, poet, columnist, filmmaker, television personality and technophile. As one half of the Fry and Laurie double act with his comedy partner, Hugh Laurie, he has appeared in
A Bit of Fry and Laurie
and
Jeeves and Wooster
. He is also famous for his roles in
Blackadder
and
Wilde
, and as the host of QI. In addition to writing fo
Stephen John Fry is an English comedian, writer, actor, humourist, novelist, poet, columnist, filmmaker, television personality and technophile. As one half of the Fry and Laurie double act with his comedy partner, Hugh Laurie, he has appeared in
A Bit of Fry and Laurie
and
Jeeves and Wooster
. He is also famous for his roles in
Blackadder
and
Wilde
, and as the host of QI. In addition to writing for stage, screen, television and radio he has contributed columns and articles for numerous newspapers and magazines, and has also written four successful novels and a series of memoirs.
“The only reason people do not know much is because they do not care to know. They are incurious. Incuriousity is the oddest and most foolish failing there is.”
—
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“I will defend the absolute value of Mozart over Miley Cyrus, of course I will, but we should be wary of false dichotomies. You do not have to choose between one or the other. You can have both. The human cultural jungle should be as varied and plural as the Amazonian rainforest. We are all richer for biodiversity. We may decide that a puma is worth more to us than a caterpillar, but surely we can agree that the habitat is all the better for being able to sustain each.”
—
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