3 days before Christmas found me standing in Smiths, with zero inspiration, looking at the bestsellers shelves - and wondering why the hell I would want to read any of them. Katy Price, Jonathan Ross, Chris Evans...celebrity "auto" biographies... blah, blah blah. Then in post Christmas desperation I picked up Dear Fatty from the shelves at home...and half way through I was still wondering why I was bothering. Now, I like Dawn French, I love F&S and the Vicar of Dibley, she is very, very talented, and very, very funny - but does that mean that her life might be of interest to me just because she’s famous? I mean it probably wouldn’t be if she wasn’t famous would it? Viz the opening of one chapter "I loved Lincoln" - yes well I'm sure you did Dawn, great place, but why is that worthy of my reading time? I expect lots of people love Lincoln.
What I am questioning here is the premise that text has an intrinsic worth if it is framed in the context of a celeb life – parts of Dawn’s life are indeed interesting, some are tragic, but none is momentous in any wider sense – well, not yet, anyway. Now, in case this sounds overly crabby, I have read “Rich: the Life of Richard Burton” by Melvyn Bragg twice, and will probably go for a third read because it is a stupendous biog of a stupendous life. Plus it has the advantage of time – it was written at a decent interval after the death of the subject, which gives us time to reflect on a life hard-lived, time to put that life into context, and assess the contribution, the impact, the significance.
Come on guys – your lives aren’t even half over and you’re boring us rigid already – leave the autobiogs until there is something to say ....oh, unless this is all really just about the money....