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The Light’s On At Signpost
From the author of the ever-popular Flashman novels, a collection of film-world reminiscences and trenchant thoughts on Cool Britannia, New Labour and other abominations.
In between writing Flashman novels, George MacDonald Fraser spent thirty years as an "incurably star struck" screenwriter, working with the likes of Steve McQueen, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Cubby Broccoli, Burt Lancaster, Federico Fellini and Oliver Reed. Now he shares his recollections of those encounters, providing a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes.
Far from starry-eyed where Tony Blair & Co are concerned, he looks back also to the Britain of his youth and castigates those responsible for its decline to "a Third World country … misruled by a typical Third World government, corrupt, incompetent and undemocratic".
Controversial, witty and revealing – or "curmudgeonly", "reactionary", "undiluted spleen", according to the critics – The Light's on at Signpost has struck a chord with a great section of the public. Perhaps, as one reader suggests, it should be "hidden beneath the floorboards, before the Politically-Correct Thought Police come hammering at the door, demanding to confiscate any copies".
- GenresEssaysNonfictionMemoir
369 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2002
6 people are currently reading
62 people want to read
About the author
George MacDonald Fraser
115 books686 followersGeorge MacDonald Fraser is best known for his Flashman series of historical novels, purportedly written by Harry Flashman, a fictional coward and bully originally created by Thomas Hughes in Tom Brown's School Days. The novels are presented as "packets" of memoirs written by the nonagenarian Flashman, who looks back on his days as a hero of the British Army during the 19th century. The series begins with Flashman, and is notable for the accuracy of the historical settings and praise from critics. P.G. Wodehouse said of Flashman, “If ever there was a time when I felt that ‘watcher-of-the-skies-when-a-new-planet’ stuff, it was when I read the first Flashman.”
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
February 28, 2019
Reminiscences of Films, he wrote Three Musketeers and Octopussy amongst others. Between the chapters on Film he includes remarks of an angry old man. And angry he is, and outspoken. That is to say, politically incorrect. He is in favor of the death penalty, thinks that teachers should be allowed to beat their pupils. He does not like foreigners, especially Germans. He despises politicians, especially Blair, etc. The Guardian says in a Review that the book should never have appeared. Which is utter nonsense. If you want to have reactionary views, but quite intelligently presented, this is the man for you. The film anecdotes are okay too. He did script doctoring for Superman and the list of unrealized projects is impressive, Lone Ranger, William Tell, Störtebekker, Tai-Pan. He says, and you have to love him for this alone, that he would rather have his name associated with Three Musketeers than with Citizen Kane.
June 24, 2015
Don't read this if you have any self-respect. Apart from the movie anecdotes (which are ok), this is one long Daily Mail-esque rambling on how the olden days were great, and how kids today need shooting. (Well, not in so many words) For such an intelligent author I was surprised how much he resorts to hyperbole and tittle-tattle when it comes to the state of the nation and "political correctness gone maaaad" arguments. He describes vague stereotypes as fact, and never specifies where his information comes from. He even repeats the old urban myth of the banning of 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' in nurseries (that never happened.)
It's like Richard Littlejohn was the ghost writer.
It's like Richard Littlejohn was the ghost writer.
January 31, 2019
four stars for the making movies part. one star for the other parts - mostly rants of political correctness gone overboard. he does make some valid points about this though.
August 22, 2012
You probably have to be a fan of Fraser's Flashman novels to be interested in reading this odd mixture of political rants and screenwriting memoirs. Film buffs will certainly enjoy Fraser telling how he stumbled into film, eventually writing "Crossed Swords", "Octopussy" and the best version of "The Three Musketeers" ever, as well as less celebrated projects and some that got away.
How you feel about the political parts of the book will depend on your leanings or your tolerance for listening to an old friend's rants. Politically, Fraser and I are at opposite ends, yet I confess coming away thinking "he's not entirely wrong." He makes a strong case against "political correctness" (a point on which we agree).
Ultimately, politics aside, I enjoyed the whole of this book. And I wish the unmade scripts Fraser wrote (which includes a 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Quentin Durwood, a Robin Hood and more) were available for reading.
How you feel about the political parts of the book will depend on your leanings or your tolerance for listening to an old friend's rants. Politically, Fraser and I are at opposite ends, yet I confess coming away thinking "he's not entirely wrong." He makes a strong case against "political correctness" (a point on which we agree).
Ultimately, politics aside, I enjoyed the whole of this book. And I wish the unmade scripts Fraser wrote (which includes a 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Quentin Durwood, a Robin Hood and more) were available for reading.
June 6, 2021
"... it has been a fairly rambling, eccentric sort of book, no doubt intemperate on occasion, though not without good cause, and I make no apology for it: the polemical stuff needed saying, if only because I'm shot if I'll go silent into that good night, whenever it falls, and I couldn't leave my memoirs of the wonderful, enchanting world of movies unwritten. But that's not the whole story by a long chalk..." (pg. 287)
A supremely entertaining pseudo-autobiography from the author of Flashman. Even leaving aside his exceptional novels, George MacDonald Fraser had an interesting life. He travelled the world from a young age, serving in the Far East in World War Two (read his matchless war memoir, Quartered Safe Out Here - read it now) and later flitting all over the place as a Hollywood screenwriter during the 1970s and 1980s. It is the latter which is the mainspring of The Light's on at Signpost, as Fraser recounts his dealings with the likes of Steve McQueen, Burt Lancaster, Cubby Broccoli, Charlton Heston and Oliver Reed, among (many) others. He casts the penetrating and observant eye of the writer over these diverse characters, and his anecdotes are not only entertaining but illuminating about the persons involved.
His memoir is refreshingly uncynical; he describes himself as "incurably star-struck" (pg. 9) and not interested in scandal. Consequently, we get a warm and nostalgic account of a screenwriter who mixed with some of the heavyweights. This is not without its charms: when Steve McQueen says "I think we've got [a new] Gone with the Wind here" about Fraser's unmade screenplay for Taipan (pg. 211), it told me more about one of my favourite actors than any biography or documentary could. Even when he's recounting something negative, Fraser remains diplomatic: recalling the American McQueen's feud with Oliver Reed (a Briton) and their opposite-poles personalities, he says, "Thinking of them together, I have no difficulty understanding the events of 1776" (pg. 85). This is also just one of a number of turns-of-phrase that I have come to expect from the author of Flashman.
And speaking of Flashman, I cannot disguise my fascination with the people Fraser encounters who profess an admiration for the books. On pages 96 and 97, he lists just some of the famous people who have done so: Kingsley Amis (whose favourite was Flashman and the Redskins), Burt Lancaster, Johnny Cash, Charlton Heston (who wanted to play Flashman at Little Big Horn - pg. 28), P. G. Wodehouse and, in one endearing anecdote, even an octogenarian Charlie Chaplin. Interestingly - and disappointingly for those of us who still want it to happen - Bond producer Cubby Broccoli thought that a Flashman movie would be even more expensive to make than the 007 films (pg. 244).
Despite the book's qualities, I did sometimes yearn for a more conventional memoir in which Fraser would go beyond his 'movie memoir' remit to include his views on the writing process and, in particular, writing Flashman. He does briefly recount these sorts of things in the penultimate chapter, which serves as a sort of condensed autobiography, and it is fascinating - but something I'd have liked to see more of.
What we do get a lot of is political polemic; Fraser railing against all the things he sees wrong with the 'permissive society' of modern Britain. These are called his 'Angry Old Man' chapters and can be safely called 'politically incorrect'. I won't address these in detail, but his views in general can be encapsulated by the following sentence from page 74:
"How tragic, how degrading, that the marvellous thing that was Britain, the wonder of the world, should after all the travail and suffering and heroism and sacrifice and sheer bloody genius of centuries, end with the sorriest of whimpers, sold down the river by mere politicians, unworthy and third rate."
As it happens, I agreed with some of what he was saying, particularly his observations that apologising for the past actions of imperialism only makes sense if you believe in racial guilt and inherited guilt (pg. 117) and that 'positive discrimination' is still discrimination (pg. 227). I suspect he's right when he's talking about the silent majority of decent people who don't fall for all the politically-correct hysteria, but it still doesn't make him sound any less like a Daily Mail op-ed piece. His arguments, though often valid, are advanced by emotional rather than intellectual appeal (for example, he gets carried away when talking about capital punishment, speaking animatedly of "helpless folk battered and tortured and slain" by unpunished criminals (pg. 142)), and consequently they won't sway anyone who isn't already convinced of their merits. For such people, these polemical chapters will be cathartic, but some readers will no doubt find them one-note. Whatever opinion you hold, they can certainly be considered the Marmite chapters of the book.
This contrast between the positivity of the movie memoir chapters and the negativity of the political soapbox chapters can be jarring, especially as the two alternate without any attempt at linkage. But, somehow, it all works and The Light's on at Signpost has the air of a book being pulled together by the sheer force of will of a talented writer. Not only by reading his forthright views but also by recalling his rich life experiences, the reader is left with the distinct impression that, sadly, we don't make them like him anymore.
On his favourite British Prime Minister: "... I have to confess a liking for the style of Sir Alec Douglas-Home, not because he was on the Right, but because he spent a year in office without, on his own admission, doing a damned thing." (pg. 263)
A supremely entertaining pseudo-autobiography from the author of Flashman. Even leaving aside his exceptional novels, George MacDonald Fraser had an interesting life. He travelled the world from a young age, serving in the Far East in World War Two (read his matchless war memoir, Quartered Safe Out Here - read it now) and later flitting all over the place as a Hollywood screenwriter during the 1970s and 1980s. It is the latter which is the mainspring of The Light's on at Signpost, as Fraser recounts his dealings with the likes of Steve McQueen, Burt Lancaster, Cubby Broccoli, Charlton Heston and Oliver Reed, among (many) others. He casts the penetrating and observant eye of the writer over these diverse characters, and his anecdotes are not only entertaining but illuminating about the persons involved.
His memoir is refreshingly uncynical; he describes himself as "incurably star-struck" (pg. 9) and not interested in scandal. Consequently, we get a warm and nostalgic account of a screenwriter who mixed with some of the heavyweights. This is not without its charms: when Steve McQueen says "I think we've got [a new] Gone with the Wind here" about Fraser's unmade screenplay for Taipan (pg. 211), it told me more about one of my favourite actors than any biography or documentary could. Even when he's recounting something negative, Fraser remains diplomatic: recalling the American McQueen's feud with Oliver Reed (a Briton) and their opposite-poles personalities, he says, "Thinking of them together, I have no difficulty understanding the events of 1776" (pg. 85). This is also just one of a number of turns-of-phrase that I have come to expect from the author of Flashman.
And speaking of Flashman, I cannot disguise my fascination with the people Fraser encounters who profess an admiration for the books. On pages 96 and 97, he lists just some of the famous people who have done so: Kingsley Amis (whose favourite was Flashman and the Redskins), Burt Lancaster, Johnny Cash, Charlton Heston (who wanted to play Flashman at Little Big Horn - pg. 28), P. G. Wodehouse and, in one endearing anecdote, even an octogenarian Charlie Chaplin. Interestingly - and disappointingly for those of us who still want it to happen - Bond producer Cubby Broccoli thought that a Flashman movie would be even more expensive to make than the 007 films (pg. 244).
Despite the book's qualities, I did sometimes yearn for a more conventional memoir in which Fraser would go beyond his 'movie memoir' remit to include his views on the writing process and, in particular, writing Flashman. He does briefly recount these sorts of things in the penultimate chapter, which serves as a sort of condensed autobiography, and it is fascinating - but something I'd have liked to see more of.
What we do get a lot of is political polemic; Fraser railing against all the things he sees wrong with the 'permissive society' of modern Britain. These are called his 'Angry Old Man' chapters and can be safely called 'politically incorrect'. I won't address these in detail, but his views in general can be encapsulated by the following sentence from page 74:
"How tragic, how degrading, that the marvellous thing that was Britain, the wonder of the world, should after all the travail and suffering and heroism and sacrifice and sheer bloody genius of centuries, end with the sorriest of whimpers, sold down the river by mere politicians, unworthy and third rate."
As it happens, I agreed with some of what he was saying, particularly his observations that apologising for the past actions of imperialism only makes sense if you believe in racial guilt and inherited guilt (pg. 117) and that 'positive discrimination' is still discrimination (pg. 227). I suspect he's right when he's talking about the silent majority of decent people who don't fall for all the politically-correct hysteria, but it still doesn't make him sound any less like a Daily Mail op-ed piece. His arguments, though often valid, are advanced by emotional rather than intellectual appeal (for example, he gets carried away when talking about capital punishment, speaking animatedly of "helpless folk battered and tortured and slain" by unpunished criminals (pg. 142)), and consequently they won't sway anyone who isn't already convinced of their merits. For such people, these polemical chapters will be cathartic, but some readers will no doubt find them one-note. Whatever opinion you hold, they can certainly be considered the Marmite chapters of the book.
This contrast between the positivity of the movie memoir chapters and the negativity of the political soapbox chapters can be jarring, especially as the two alternate without any attempt at linkage. But, somehow, it all works and The Light's on at Signpost has the air of a book being pulled together by the sheer force of will of a talented writer. Not only by reading his forthright views but also by recalling his rich life experiences, the reader is left with the distinct impression that, sadly, we don't make them like him anymore.
On his favourite British Prime Minister: "... I have to confess a liking for the style of Sir Alec Douglas-Home, not because he was on the Right, but because he spent a year in office without, on his own admission, doing a damned thing." (pg. 263)
January 2, 2021
Oh dear.
I had very much enjoyed Fraser's earlier biography about his service in WW2 (Quartered Safe Out Here), and found his lightly-fictionalized biography about his post-war army service quite entertaining (The Complete McAuslan). I was under the impression that The Light's On At Signpost was a biography covering his years as a Hollywood screenwriters - as it turns out, that's only half true.
Signpost is half-filled with stories about Fraser's time in Hollywood, yes, but it's mostly light anecdotes about the stars of yesteryear. It's full of colour and entertainment, but there's nothing personal or particularly insightful about it. There's some stuff about the business of writing for film, but very little about the craft.
So what's the rest of Signpost about? It's Fraser's rants about modern society. The title is a reference to a famous motorcycle race - when the light's on at signpost, it means that a racer has almost completed their run. Fraser uses it to mean that he's almost dead, so he needs to get out all his opinions quickly.
What exactly are those opinions? Well, perhaps the fact that he has to repeatedly claim "I'm not a right-winger", "I'm not a Tory," "I'm not a conservative" within the first few pages should serve as a clue. Methinks the author dost protest too much.
In short, Fraser believes that things were better when he was young, which he supports using the sophisticated analytic technique known as Common Sense. Society is worse off, he thinks, because we don't hang people anymore, and because people will judge you if you don't want to sit next to a Black person on the bus.
Perhaps this shouldn't be too distressing - after all, it's entirely natural that a middle-class Scot, born in the '20s, who served in the military & went on to become a writer might have deeply ingrained conservative views and prejudices, ones which are totally immune to any kind of reason.
But this is, let's not forget, the creator of FLASHMAN. For the man who wrote one of fiction's greatest libertines to decry sex and drugs is baffling. For a man whose own books might have been banned as obscene if they'd been published a decade or two earlier to repeatedly protest against pornography is shocking. For a man who so insightfully wrote about racism, prejudice, and the evils of Empire to defend all three of those without a second thought is almost unbelievable.
I had very much enjoyed Fraser's earlier biography about his service in WW2 (Quartered Safe Out Here), and found his lightly-fictionalized biography about his post-war army service quite entertaining (The Complete McAuslan). I was under the impression that The Light's On At Signpost was a biography covering his years as a Hollywood screenwriters - as it turns out, that's only half true.
Signpost is half-filled with stories about Fraser's time in Hollywood, yes, but it's mostly light anecdotes about the stars of yesteryear. It's full of colour and entertainment, but there's nothing personal or particularly insightful about it. There's some stuff about the business of writing for film, but very little about the craft.
So what's the rest of Signpost about? It's Fraser's rants about modern society. The title is a reference to a famous motorcycle race - when the light's on at signpost, it means that a racer has almost completed their run. Fraser uses it to mean that he's almost dead, so he needs to get out all his opinions quickly.
What exactly are those opinions? Well, perhaps the fact that he has to repeatedly claim "I'm not a right-winger", "I'm not a Tory," "I'm not a conservative" within the first few pages should serve as a clue. Methinks the author dost protest too much.
In short, Fraser believes that things were better when he was young, which he supports using the sophisticated analytic technique known as Common Sense. Society is worse off, he thinks, because we don't hang people anymore, and because people will judge you if you don't want to sit next to a Black person on the bus.
Perhaps this shouldn't be too distressing - after all, it's entirely natural that a middle-class Scot, born in the '20s, who served in the military & went on to become a writer might have deeply ingrained conservative views and prejudices, ones which are totally immune to any kind of reason.
But this is, let's not forget, the creator of FLASHMAN. For the man who wrote one of fiction's greatest libertines to decry sex and drugs is baffling. For a man whose own books might have been banned as obscene if they'd been published a decade or two earlier to repeatedly protest against pornography is shocking. For a man who so insightfully wrote about racism, prejudice, and the evils of Empire to defend all three of those without a second thought is almost unbelievable.
October 16, 2021
I've been a fan of GMF since I first read 'Flashman' in the early '80s - and am still a fan of that series - and have read many of his other books, of which the autobiographical/semi-autobiographical (McAuslan) ones stand out. I was only vaguely aware of his career as a Hollywood scriptwriter, so decided this volume was a good way to find out more. In that respect, it didn't disappoint and I enjoyed the Hollywood gossip and finding out more about some films I especially enjoyed (Musketeers) 'back in the day'. Regarding the 'Angry Old Man' chapters, well, like many others, I could have done without them; it's a bit like being beaten over the head with a rolled up Daily Mail! I do get it, though. As I enter my sixties I find myself musing on how the world is going to Hell in a hand cart - it's obviously a feature of ageing - but I'm of a different generation and can't agree with more than a little of what he says. I recognise where he's coming from, though, as he's the same generation as my late father who espoused many of the same opinions, although with him I could answer back or change the subject! Anyway, he comes from that remarkable wartime generation and is (was) entitled to his opinions. I'm sure, in person, he was very genial company - as long as you kept off New Labour, PC, the criminal justice system, race, the Germans etc. etc. I could have ignored those chapters but it seems rude to miss out bits in books - but I never need to read them again. I'm pleased to know more about one of my favourite writers (there's a brisk autobiography to fill in all the gaps) and it doesn't change my view that GMF's Flashman remains a great literary creations.
October 5, 2022
A Hollywood screenwriting memoir interleaved with self-described "Angry Old Man" polemics about the decline of various British institutions: the military, journalism, language, policy, statecraft, etc.
The Hollywood memories are engrossing, sometimes surprising, and of course (it's Fraser) humorous. This book made me want to go out and watch all his movies, despite the less-than-stainless critical reception of some, just for the passion and effort that went into them. It takes a lot of sweat and late nights to make a movie that gets a 46% on Rotten Tomatoes.
As for the polemics, I'm not familiar with the state of conservative British media in 2002 or if this book was a lone Jeremiad when published. The foreword suggests Fraser expressed a viewpoint that had not been popularly aired. In America we had Rush, Drudge, and various columnists and periodicals. Fraser's broadsides (besides their uniquely British character and a couple takes that lifted my eyebrows) fit flush with these social critics. What can you say? He wasn't wrong. We'll have to wait and see.
Anyway, he made me laugh out loud and taught me a few things as well. But I'd read a vacuum maintenance manual if Fraser wrote it.
The Hollywood memories are engrossing, sometimes surprising, and of course (it's Fraser) humorous. This book made me want to go out and watch all his movies, despite the less-than-stainless critical reception of some, just for the passion and effort that went into them. It takes a lot of sweat and late nights to make a movie that gets a 46% on Rotten Tomatoes.
As for the polemics, I'm not familiar with the state of conservative British media in 2002 or if this book was a lone Jeremiad when published. The foreword suggests Fraser expressed a viewpoint that had not been popularly aired. In America we had Rush, Drudge, and various columnists and periodicals. Fraser's broadsides (besides their uniquely British character and a couple takes that lifted my eyebrows) fit flush with these social critics. What can you say? He wasn't wrong. We'll have to wait and see.
Anyway, he made me laugh out loud and taught me a few things as well. But I'd read a vacuum maintenance manual if Fraser wrote it.
December 7, 2017
Not his best. The old man rants about politics I can do without
August 5, 2023
Wonderful book!!!
February 27, 2025
Truly dreadful. A wonderful writer ends his career with inane ranting.
August 8, 2013
Not recommended. Anyone who reads this will be left feeling that maybe they should throw away their Flashman books. Was it all just a bit of good fun? In this book GMF reveals himself as part of that angry old man brigade, always men, always Euro heritage, pining for the past.
The hypocrisy in this book is hilarious. The pouring of grief over Diana's death was ridiculous, before the next chapter about celebrities in Hollywood. We're told how lucky his generation were not to have ecstasy, before waxing lyrical about the newspaper days where the room reeked of cigarettes. GMF tells us about the problems of modern schooling, especially in grammar - despite the fact that there's a full stop missing on page 163. We are told that children should not be held responsible for the crimes of their grandparents - unless they're German. That bullying of children wouldn't occur if we brought back the rod, but it's okay for a Soviet officer to yearn to get some tourist hippies on to the parade ground (so would GMF). That if we brought back a tough on crime policy and the rod nobody would have to lock their doors, but fails to mention that the U.S. has capital punishment and 2 million in jails, yet still has the highest murder rate in the Western world. He feels sorry for young people today, despite the fact that he wouldn't be alive to write the book but for modern medicine. He tells us how much he hates all the commentary sections in newspapers, in the commentary section of a book. And on it goes.
Half of it sadly reads like the comments under an article in an online newspaper. Apparently, the European Union is a big conspiracy for well planned German aggression... God knows what he'd be saying now.
Strewn in between are various bits and pieces from his experiences in the movie industry - this is the hook. With a few exceptions, it concerns GMF with various feisty men - there's barely a woman - and figuring out how to entertain the public. He mentions his wife occasionally on the basis of how much she liked the hotel.
Of course, this doesn't mean that grammar couldn't be improved, or that political correctness isn't occasionally silly. But, I expected more of GMF than the typical rantings of an old man, which you could read anywhere.
It casts a bit of a shadow over the Flashman books. Mostly because the books reek of a certain male belligerence, the same tone that comes across in this book. Perhaps those books are destined to disappear. Much like this book will.
Of course, it's all very well written. A shame he didn't have something to say.
The hypocrisy in this book is hilarious. The pouring of grief over Diana's death was ridiculous, before the next chapter about celebrities in Hollywood. We're told how lucky his generation were not to have ecstasy, before waxing lyrical about the newspaper days where the room reeked of cigarettes. GMF tells us about the problems of modern schooling, especially in grammar - despite the fact that there's a full stop missing on page 163. We are told that children should not be held responsible for the crimes of their grandparents - unless they're German. That bullying of children wouldn't occur if we brought back the rod, but it's okay for a Soviet officer to yearn to get some tourist hippies on to the parade ground (so would GMF). That if we brought back a tough on crime policy and the rod nobody would have to lock their doors, but fails to mention that the U.S. has capital punishment and 2 million in jails, yet still has the highest murder rate in the Western world. He feels sorry for young people today, despite the fact that he wouldn't be alive to write the book but for modern medicine. He tells us how much he hates all the commentary sections in newspapers, in the commentary section of a book. And on it goes.
Half of it sadly reads like the comments under an article in an online newspaper. Apparently, the European Union is a big conspiracy for well planned German aggression... God knows what he'd be saying now.
Strewn in between are various bits and pieces from his experiences in the movie industry - this is the hook. With a few exceptions, it concerns GMF with various feisty men - there's barely a woman - and figuring out how to entertain the public. He mentions his wife occasionally on the basis of how much she liked the hotel.
Of course, this doesn't mean that grammar couldn't be improved, or that political correctness isn't occasionally silly. But, I expected more of GMF than the typical rantings of an old man, which you could read anywhere.
It casts a bit of a shadow over the Flashman books. Mostly because the books reek of a certain male belligerence, the same tone that comes across in this book. Perhaps those books are destined to disappear. Much like this book will.
Of course, it's all very well written. A shame he didn't have something to say.
March 19, 2012
Originally published on my blog here.
Best known to me as the author of the fantastic Flashman novels, George MacDonald Fraser turns out from this volume of memoirs to have also been involved in the scriptwriting for a number of well known films of the 1970s, and to have had a lot of strongly held opinions, both of which he was able to write about in an interesting if sometimes irritating manner.
The wildly diverse material in this book is helpfully divided into appropriately titled alternating sections, either Shooting Script or Angry Old Man, with Interludes - comment difficult to fit into either category - interspersed every so often. This means that the reader with little tolerance for political ranting but an interest in the cinema can read self-admittedly star struck reminiscences of films from The Three Musketeers to Superman and Octopussy; and the Daily Mail-reading UK Independence Party supporter can confirm their prejudices without bothering with the cultural memories. (Even if you agree with everything he says, however, I think that the tone of the latter sections would become wearing after a while.) Reading them both, though, has a jarring effect due to the contrast in tone between vitriolic rage at the state of Britain at the start of the twenty-first century, and affectionate enjoyment of the opportunities to work with a long list of stars. The Light's On at Signpost presents a schizophrenic reading experience, and is hard to enjoy.
Fraser lived at this time on the Isle of Man, and the book's title is a Manx expression. Derived from the practice of turning on a light at the top of a signpost when a rider in the TT motorcycle road race is nearing the end of the final lap, it is used to indicate how near death Fraser felt (though in the end he lived for another six years, producing two more novels and another volume of non-fiction). The book basically contains the things that he wanted to say before he would no longer be able to, and it has for this reason something of the feel of a series of blog posts. At the end, Fraser describes the book as a "mixed bag", and that is a pretty exact description of what it is. It was interesting to read once, but I certainly won't be picking it up again now that I have.
Best known to me as the author of the fantastic Flashman novels, George MacDonald Fraser turns out from this volume of memoirs to have also been involved in the scriptwriting for a number of well known films of the 1970s, and to have had a lot of strongly held opinions, both of which he was able to write about in an interesting if sometimes irritating manner.
The wildly diverse material in this book is helpfully divided into appropriately titled alternating sections, either Shooting Script or Angry Old Man, with Interludes - comment difficult to fit into either category - interspersed every so often. This means that the reader with little tolerance for political ranting but an interest in the cinema can read self-admittedly star struck reminiscences of films from The Three Musketeers to Superman and Octopussy; and the Daily Mail-reading UK Independence Party supporter can confirm their prejudices without bothering with the cultural memories. (Even if you agree with everything he says, however, I think that the tone of the latter sections would become wearing after a while.) Reading them both, though, has a jarring effect due to the contrast in tone between vitriolic rage at the state of Britain at the start of the twenty-first century, and affectionate enjoyment of the opportunities to work with a long list of stars. The Light's On at Signpost presents a schizophrenic reading experience, and is hard to enjoy.
Fraser lived at this time on the Isle of Man, and the book's title is a Manx expression. Derived from the practice of turning on a light at the top of a signpost when a rider in the TT motorcycle road race is nearing the end of the final lap, it is used to indicate how near death Fraser felt (though in the end he lived for another six years, producing two more novels and another volume of non-fiction). The book basically contains the things that he wanted to say before he would no longer be able to, and it has for this reason something of the feel of a series of blog posts. At the end, Fraser describes the book as a "mixed bag", and that is a pretty exact description of what it is. It was interesting to read once, but I certainly won't be picking it up again now that I have.
May 28, 2013
As a lover of George MacDonald Fraser's writing, I was eagerly awaiting getting my hands on this book. And it was fifty percent worth the wait, and fifty percent a disappointment.
The good was when Fraser gave his readers what most of them were expecting - autobiographical reminiscences. While we would all have loved a full-blown autobiography, the collection of reminiscences that appear in this book were highly entertaining, hilarious and crisply written. Like his most famous creation, "Flashman", Fraser seems to have met many of the most entertaining and controversial luminaries of his time.
The bad? For some reason, Fraser felt inclined to interleave the "meat" of the book - the stories from his past - with a series of grumbling, reactionary essays about what is wrong with the modern world. Sure, he was entitled to his political views, and one hates to speak ill of the dead, especially one who has given me so much pleasure with his writing, but after a while, one grows sick of reading yet another diatribe about how the poor should know their place, women should stay in the kitchen and how modern technology has made the world an evil place. Unfortunately, he came across like some whingeing grandfather admonishing the young about how much better things were in the good old days...
Still, let's face it, anything from his pen is worth reading, even his weaker stuff. Don't let the bad parts of this book turn you off. There's plenty to like. He will write no more, and he'll be sadly missed. Therefore, I highly recommend fans of the late great man get their hands on this one.
The good was when Fraser gave his readers what most of them were expecting - autobiographical reminiscences. While we would all have loved a full-blown autobiography, the collection of reminiscences that appear in this book were highly entertaining, hilarious and crisply written. Like his most famous creation, "Flashman", Fraser seems to have met many of the most entertaining and controversial luminaries of his time.
The bad? For some reason, Fraser felt inclined to interleave the "meat" of the book - the stories from his past - with a series of grumbling, reactionary essays about what is wrong with the modern world. Sure, he was entitled to his political views, and one hates to speak ill of the dead, especially one who has given me so much pleasure with his writing, but after a while, one grows sick of reading yet another diatribe about how the poor should know their place, women should stay in the kitchen and how modern technology has made the world an evil place. Unfortunately, he came across like some whingeing grandfather admonishing the young about how much better things were in the good old days...
Still, let's face it, anything from his pen is worth reading, even his weaker stuff. Don't let the bad parts of this book turn you off. There's plenty to like. He will write no more, and he'll be sadly missed. Therefore, I highly recommend fans of the late great man get their hands on this one.
September 19, 2016
An odd one, this! It's really two unrelated books jumbled together, presumably because there wasn't quite enough material for two separate volumes. Half of it tells of Fraser's experiences as a screenwriter. Unfortunately, these chapters are interspersed with the other half, which consists of his rants against political correctness, New Labour, the EU, etc. I found these parts to be self-indulgent in the extreme, not to mention cringeworthy and already out of date. However, his adventures in the movie business are a great read and he provides vivid portraits of Steve McQueen, Robert Shaw, Burt Lancaster and others. The ultimate curate's egg.
July 20, 2013
It came as a sad surprise to discover that the creator of Flashman and scintillating histories of the Border Reivers and Scottish regiments, astute, wry, witty, is also a puce cheeked golf club bore, banging on about "the PC brigade" and campaigning for the restoration of corporal and capital punishment.
But then, D.H.Lawrence said: "Never trust the teller, trust the tale." So I'll pretend I haven't read this collection, and go and re-read "The Steel Bonnets", which is great. Such little, little Daily Mail prejudices. Idols-clay feet.
But then, D.H.Lawrence said: "Never trust the teller, trust the tale." So I'll pretend I haven't read this collection, and go and re-read "The Steel Bonnets", which is great. Such little, little Daily Mail prejudices. Idols-clay feet.
March 3, 2014
If you're interested in movies of the 1970s Fraser wrote the scripts for a few including Force 10 from Navarone. This book is a collection of movie anecdotes interspersed with rants about the state of Britain in 2002. Unfortunately Fraser like many little Englanders cannot conceive that he might be wrong when riding his hobby horses. An interesting read although you may have to grit your teeth from time to time.
February 14, 2009
Half humorous/fond/scandalous looks at the movie industry, and half angry old man rants. Vastly preferred the former to the latter, especially as Fraser's politics don't accord much with my own, and there were a couple of times I was tempted to throw the book across the room. His movie anecdotes are tremendous fun, though.
May 30, 2009
The parts on writing for filsm are funny and informative. Much of the rest of the book makes the letters page of the Daily Telegraph look like the Guardian. I gave up.
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