I'm reading The Kenneth Williams Diaries at the moment. He was a peculiarly British character, and his celebrity was a testament to my home nation's enduring affection for eccentrics of all types - even effete, acidic homosexuals at a time when such a thing was still illegal.
His diaries are fascinating. I was a little apprehensive before I started reading them that the day-to-day pensées of even someone as witty as Williams wouldn't hold the attention for 800+ pages, but in fact it's as gripping as any novel or autobiography. Not just his name-dropping, forthright opinions, and outrageously indiscreet anecdotes, (all of which are extremely entertaining), but also the way you can clearly map how the repression of his sexuality - even while audiences loved him for his camp extravagance - led inexorably to agonising, self-loathing, and eventually suicide.
The diaries are heartily recommended, and let's cherish all our great British eccentrics - from Tony Benn and Patrick Moore, to Brian Sewell and the Two Fat Ladies. Here's a bit of Ken in his native habitat....
No comments:
Post a Comment