I'm supposed to be reading all kinds of books at the moment. I think I must have about 20 or so review copies sitting on my to read pile. The only problem is that Stephen Fry has a new book out - his second volume of autobiography - and I simply have to read it. You see like a number of other English people (I can't claim this to be so for other nationalities - I've never asked) I like Stephen Fry.
I like his cleverness. I like his word use. I like his geeky enthusiasms. I could go on. He would. He's not the most modest of people - and I have to admit I can appreciate that. There are few things that annoy me more than false modesty. If you have a talent, an ability, why the hell not be proud of it and promote it, and hence yourself, as best you can.
Equally I like honesty. And in this book, The Fry Chronicles - I'd noticed I'd not mentioned the title earlier, Stephen Fry discusses his University life and early career in TV, radio, journalism, playwriting and all-round general clever-clogs-ness.
But he also tells of is failings. His physical failings such as nicotine addiction, his feelings of shame about his own body and his desire, immense desire - need really - to be loved.
I rarely read autobiographies. I'm trying to think of ones I've read as I type this. I've read all of Asimov's but then again I am a total Asimov addict so they go without saying. And yes I probably would read his old shopping lists - how do you spell obsession again?
And I've read Frankie Boyle's - on a whim that one. I like some of his comedy, he takes chances. He tries to do things with comedy others do not. A lot of people think he goes too far but unless you try things how do you know what's going to be funny? His book is frightening honest at times. And very scathing. But all through it's just plain funny.
Anyway I digress. Back to Stephen Fry. And his book. It's superb. And tonight it will be finished. I just pity the author whose book I pick up next. It will suffer in the comparison.