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Ellen Terry comes across as mostly charming in her autobiography, which is largely about her life in the theatre - there is little revealed of her life outside of it. A glance at wikipedia reveals what an unconventional (for her time) woman she was. Mostly Ellen Terry is kind, if forthright, about her friends and acquaintances (many of them famous), although she seems a little more harsh when defending Henry Irving from his critics. What is clear from the book is that she and Henry Irving respected and loved one another, (though we're not told whether they were more than just good friends) developing a wonderfully creative working relationship.
This may be the first autobiography of an actor I've read whose not been in Doctor Who! From those autobiographies I have determined they tend to be of two types. The first talks almost entirely about their work, what they did and when with amusing stories about some of their colleagues (Lis Sladen and John Leeson) whereas the other type talks much more personally about the struggles in their lives, tragedy or mental health issues (Tom Baker, Anneke Wills, Jacqueline Pearce). Ellen Terry's autobiography was definitely the first type! At one point she mentioned retiring from the stage for 6 years to live in the countryside with her children but who she got these children was a total mystery! It could have been an immaculate conception and I found myself having to go to the Internet to find out who the father was and how long they lived together and why it had been such a scandal.
The lack of personal detail is quite sad but it was still a very interesting book. To read about Victorian times from a current perspective was fascinating. I learned a lot about theatre in the 19th century, how and what plays were performed, what an actor's life was like as well as little glimpses of some of the major players of the day.
I found a lovely 1907 edition of this at the oxfam and it was lovely to read it that way. It was also full of the most gorgeous photos of Ellen in all her costumes. At the end was a picture of her older at her desk which was a lovely contrast. Definitely one I'd recommend.
I was reading this for a specific reason (trying to find information about Henry Irving's wife). It was no help for that, but it was a rather charming read all the same. A bit repetitive and self-indulgent but it gave an intriguing look back at Victorian theatre.