As usual when I read anything by this charming man I learnt something halfway through this book. I learned to dispell the foolish notion that you can know people you have never met. With a public figure who has lived in the public sphere for so long, that is, existed in the shared cultural zeitgeist, we imagine we know them when in simple point of fact we do not. Stephen Fry has inhabited that ephemeral location for as long as I remember. In fact, for some reason, he has been most prominent in areas where people of great talent come and go like meteors scraping across the atmosphere which surrounds us. With this volume he surprises and lets us in on the less flattering qualities most would seek to conceal or explain away. it is an eye opener to have a peek into his diaries for a period.To get a glimpse of those far off days as he lived them. Pre-internet days and when Douglas Adams was alive and at the height of his powers. Its quite rude in places but it feels like a celebration rather than a shock fest and they are after all only...words. Its a bit shocking as well to be honest. He has actually probably spent more money on Cocaine than I will ever earn. That is a bit shocking to some one whose idea of a treat is the more expensive Dromore butter on ones toasted pan. Hmmm, creamy and salty.(Yeah, I know.Life on the edge.)
As a very funny entertainer, comedian, actor and story teller he has been with us for so long. Yet has somehow skirted the over bearing quality such prominence endows. One never gets tired off him. Perhaps it has something to do with how unflinchingly self critical he can be. Aware off and willing to share his self doubts without coming across as slyly narcissistic. (I am going to make a meal of this if I am not careful.) In short he has always come across as endearingly humane.
Another lovely memoir from a lovely man.
A stranger I never knew I knew so well.
