Efficient bio whose warts-and-all motif hits its apex right around the time celebrated Monty Python alum Chapman gazes out a nearby window at some passing grade school lads and wistfully intones "Ah, here come my little chickens". To say nothing of the passage where he takes it upon himself to stir a random pub patron's drink with his penis, an occurance that the lucky customer treats as a henceforth forever treasured celebrity encounter. Those were, apparently, the days.
Apart from the occasional spurts of randy conduct, for the most part Chapman did not seem to be the type of person that anyone really got to know, family and friends alike. Even John Cleese and David Sherlock, Chapman's writing and life partners respectively, remain largely befuddled and in the dark when it comes to the man's behavior and thought process. Fellow members of Python (except for Eric Idle, whose relationship with Chapman appears to have been prickly at best) chime in with anecdotes and perspective, but overall seemed to have viewed him as, alternately, a charmingly soused enigma and an undependable loose cannon whose addictions constantly threatened to derail their comedic venture.
The writing is concise without feeling standoffish, and one is rarely if ever bored with the backstory and various antics (the man did hang out with Keith Moon, after all), but ultimately it doesn't seem as though Chapman gave anyone sufficient opportunity to crack his confounding exterior, and as such a few hours spent watching old reruns of his reliably hilarious work on "Python" will give you about as much insight into the man as this book can, and possibly more.