For this week I had the idea to read Fry's first autobiography because his latest the fry chronicles amused me a lot, but when reading Stephen Fry's Moab is my Washpot I suddenly remembered how much I loathed reading his non-fiction book The Liar. This novel he wrote around the same time as his first autobiography, in 1997. Fry's language can be so pompous, which is often enjoyable in real life.
However, in this case, in book form, it's terribly tedious. I am so used to reading about English boarding schools because of my Literary education. And to read the same story again only then by Fry's hand is nothing short of annoying. I had to read half of the book in one day simply because I kept dreading to read more at the beginning of the week. I even started displaying SOG (study evasive behaviour as we used to call it at uni) and I almost started cleaning the whole house because I didn't want to continue reading.
He sums himself up in such a great way that I almost feel I don't need to add anything to my little article:
"No. I was Stephen. I was always going to be Stephen. I would always be that same maddening, monstrous mixture of pedantry, egoism, politenes, selfishness, kindliness, sneakiness, larkiness, sociability, loneliness, ambition, ordered calm and hidden intensity. I would cover my life with words. I would spray the whole bloody world with words. They were still all that I had but at last they were getting me places." (Fry, 432)Don't get me wrong I love Stephen Fry. I love watching him on television and reading his tweets. But I don't know if I fancy 500 pages of him in one go. For me it's now 1 - 2 for Fry. And only future will tell if I will ever pick up one of his books again.
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