Blessings in Disguise

by Alec Guinness

The memoirs of the actor Sir Alec Guinness. The book includes pen portraits of such characters as Ralph Richardson, Sybil Thorndike and John Gielgud, as well as accounts of Guinness's film career, religious beliefs and wartime experiences.

Genres: Biography, Nonfiction, Autobiography, Memoir, Film, Theatre, Biography Memoir

246 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1985

About the author

Among extraordinary range of roles, known British actor Sir Alec Guinness won an academy award for The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), his film.

After an early career of this Englishman on the stage, several of the Ealing comedies, including The Ladykillers, featured him, and he played eight different characters in Kind Hearts and Coronets. He also collaborated with David Lean as Herbert Pocket in Great Expectations (1946), as Fagin in Oliver Twist (1948), as Prince Faisal in Lawrence of Arabia (1962), as Yevgraf in Doctor Zhivago (1965), and as Professor Godbole in A Passage to India (1984); he won for best actor as Colonel Nicholson in Kwai. He also portrayed Obi-Wan Kenobi in original Star Wars trilogy of George Lucas and received a nomination for best supporting actor.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alec_Gu...

Reviews

[Gary Inbinder · Rating 4 out of 5]

The memoir, for the most part, covers approximately 50 years (1930-1980) of the life and career of one of Britain’s greatest actors. It begins with scenes from a Dickensian childhood—a mostly absent mother, a despised Army officer step-father, frequent moves one step ahead of creditors, and boarding schools. The narrative also jumps around, from childhood, to middle-age, back to youth, and then to middle and the beginning of old age, and includes a spiritual journey running parallel to the actor’s career. It also includes an interesting hiatus from acting during WWII, when Guinness served as an officer in the Royal Navy.

The narrative includes insightful observations on the acting profession, including distinctions made between more traditional and contemporary approaches to the craft, the differences between acting on stage and in film, the inconveniences and occasional dangers of working on location and in various venues. (Guinness may have come close to death or serious injury in films more times than he did as an LSI commander in WWII).

The memoir includes reminiscences, and in some cases whole chapters devoted to great actors known to most readers, such as John Gielgud, Ralph Richardson, Laurence Olivier and Edith Evans, or those who would now be known mainly to devotees of early to mid-twentieth century British theater, such as Ernest Milton and Martita Hunt.

Regarding the title, Guinness gives examples of such “blessings,” and at least one is worth mentioning. During his first season at the Old Vic, the young and relatively unknown Guinness was given a character role in a major production. Ruth Gordon was brought in from America as leading lady. During their first read-through Ms. Gordon put down her script and called out to the director, Tony Guthrie, “Tony! Tony, I can’t act with this young man. Would you get another actor for the part, please?” She then suggested the flamboyant old character actor Ernest Thesiger to replace Guinness. Guthrie thought highly of Guinness, but he wouldn’t go against his star. Guinness was fired, and received only three pounds for his troubles. (He was promised seven pounds a week for the run of the play.)

Young Alec Guinness was humiliated, devastated and what’s worse, broke. But one of his mentors, Dame Edith Evans consoled him with her support and good advice: “I’ve heard what happened this morning and I’m sorry. But you know, it’s probably just as well. You are not quite right for the part. In another ten years perhaps, but not now. I came down to tell you that I believe in you; Tony (Guthrie) believes in you—and I know Johnny Gielgud does. In ten years’ time you won’t be playing parts like Mr. Sparkish, unless you want to. By then you should have your name in lights, but, more importantly, you will be a good actor. That’s all. Good night.”

Needless to say, Dame Edith was prophetic. This well-written memoir is highly recommended for Guinness admirers as well as anyone interested in the 20th century British theater and cinema.

[GoldGato · Rating 5 out of 5]

This first volume in the trio of memoirs by Alec Guinness ranks high on my list as one of the best memoirs I've read. The writing equates to the acting of Guinness...refined, detailed, absorbing. In fact, it wasn't until I first read this book that I became a fan of his film acting (usually it's the other way around). I even flew in to watch his last stage performance, which says something about his way with words.

Enter EGO from the wings, pursued by fiends. Exit EGO.

His very first chapter wastes little time explaining his confusion as to his true paternal parentage, his mother's violent marriage, and the characters he meets as a little boy.

She was an impoverished Miss Havisham...there was no cobwebbed wedding-cake but under her bed she did have a partially-eaten rice pudding...

He has a sense of humour throughout and he describes the heck out of everything. Very enjoyable. Along with David Niven's books, this is one of the few autobiographies I would ever consider re-reading.

Book Season = Year Round (we shall not cease from exploration)

[Terence · Rating 3 out of 5]

I first saw Alec Guinness when I was ten years old in the original theatrical release of the Han-shot-first version of Star Wars in 1977. Even at that tender age, I recognized talent when I saw it; I liked Obi-wan. A lot. When I watch my DVD of that original version, many of the best moments are associated with him – “Your eyes can deceive you. Don’t trust them!” “In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck.” etc.

I picked up this memoir at the library for $0.25.

I had read John Gielgud’s Acting Shakespeare several years ago and was expecting much of the same – a portrait of people and a world long since vanished. And I got that but what I wasn’t expecting was how enjoyable it was to read. Guinness writes spritely, deftly and elegantly. Which doesn’t prevent him from treating with serious matters (like his experience in the World War II or conversion to Roman Catholicism). This is not a chronological narrative of the author’s life (though the first chapter does start off with his birth in 1914) but a collection of reminiscences that move back and forth across the decades.

Guinness has a great deal of fun recounting some of the more eccentric characters in his life, like Tyrone and Judy Guthrie, whose breakfast table sounds formidable:

All assembled for breakfast, which was a porridgy affair eaten out of pretty chipped bowls…. If Merula [Guinness’ wife] and I couldn’t cope with the bridge we were equally put out by the breakfast conversation, which was a quick-fire quiz game on the lines of who said what and to whom ranging through the entire works of Dickens. (p. 80)

Or his dismay at the lack of experience and incompetence (both his and the RN’s in general):

I was in dubious command of LCI(L) 124 with a crew of twenty and, most fortunately, an efficient and charming First Lieutenant, John Bostock. We were all very young and inexperienced; my own lack of know-how and swift rash judgments hampered the Allied Cause like small but irritating gnat-bites. (p. 107)

There’s a scene in the second longest chapter, “The Quintessence of Dust,” which tells of his conversion, that reads very oddly in light of the Church’s ongoing problems with pedophile priests. Guinness was working on Father Brown in France and was walking home one evening. He hadn’t removed his priest’s costume and as he ambled down the path, a small boy ran up, grabbed his hand and began babbling in French. A one-sided conversation that persisted until they had reached the lad’s home and he scampered off:

By the time dusk fell I was bored and, dressed in my priestly black, I climbed the gritty winding road to the village…. By now it was dark. I hadn’t gone far when I heard scampering footsteps and a piping voice calling, ‘Mon père!’ My hand was seized by a boy of seven or eight, who clutched it tightly, swung it and kept up a non-stop prattle. He was full of excitement, hops, skips and jumps, but never let go of me. I didn’t dare speak in case my excruciating French should scare him. Although I was a total stranger he obviously took me for a priest and so to be trusted. Suddenly with a ‘Bonsoir, mon père’, and a hurried sideways sort of bow, he disappeared through a hole in a hedge. He had had a happy, reassuring walk home, and I was left with an odd calm sense of elation. Continuing my walk I reflected that a Church which could inspire such confidence in a child, making its priests, even when unknown, so easily approachable could not be as scheming and creepy as so often made out. I began to shake off my long-taught, long-absorbed prejudices. (p. 36)

There are a few eye-rolling quotes that remind the reader that for all his wit, charm and intelligence Sir Alec had been born in 1914 and was very much a citizen of the British Empire. For example, while filming The Comedians in what would become Benin, Guinness comments on the night life:

The Cotonou markets were wonderfully colourful and the oil-lit back streets – little more than wide dirt tracks – full of noisy night life. French domination over several decades had left its civilising landmarks, particularly in little coffee shops and two hotels where a very good dinner could be obtained. [emphasis mine] (p. 210)

For those interested in this type of material, I would recommend this book.

For the curious, Guinness only references Star Wars twice, and then only once directly. The first is an allusion to time spent filming in Tunisia when he says he’d like to go back to Africa one day; the second comes when he’s writing about a recurring dream where an annoying reporter keeps asking him annoying questions:

‘Are you a rich man? My readers have to be satisfied,’ she said sternly.

‘No, not rich. Compared to striking miners and workless actors very rich; compared to successful stockbrokers and businessmen I expect I would be considered nearly poor.’

‘But Star Wars must have made you a fortune.’

‘Yes. Blessed be Star Wars. But two thirds of that went to the Inland Revenue and a sizeable lump on VAT. No complaints….’ (p. 214) [emphasis in original]

The man knew his priorities.

[Evan · Rating 5 out of 5]

FINAL: OK, well, what I wrote before still holds. This was a pleasant, witty, observant autobiography, though perhaps it's more about what's going on around Guinness than inside his head. Some people might find it shallow; the man was an awfully conventional and level-headed stiff-upper-lip sort of chap. But the era he documents fascinates me, and the portraits he draws (in literary terms) of the primadonna theatrical eccentrics around him are delicious. He doesn't stick to a rigid linear chronological narrative, but rather goes from thought to thought, batting things around in different eras---but he always pursues each thought to its conclusion. I rather like this way of writing; it assumes the reader already knows something (which in this case, I do) but also doesn't torture us in having to wait for the chronological event to be finished up later in the book. I enjoyed the section also about his service as a naval ship commander in the Mediterranean in WWII. Some of it sounds like the comedy of errors material that could easily have served as grist for any of the many Ealing Studios comedy classics in which he starred in the late '40s and early '50s. There also are interesting anecdotes about the making of the 1967 film, The Comedians, adapted by Graham Greene himself from his novel, which in and of itself is of great interest to me because "The Comedians" is a favorite novel of mine and the movie is a fascinating misfire. All in all, a great summer read.
---
(earlier comments:)

The late Sir Alec Guinness was in many great movies, but there are three that I adore him for: 1949's "Kind Hearts and Coronets" and 1950's "The Lavender Hill Mob" -- my favorite two of the ironic and witty Ealing Studios comedies of the '40s and 50s (back when they knew how to write smart comedy) -- and 1960's "Tunes of Glory," in which he plays a bastard bully Scottish officer, Jock Sinclair. "Tunes of Glory" is intelligent, literate, emotionally tart adult drama with the kind of gravitas that really no longer exists in movies.
Anyway, there were two masterful performances given in 1960: Guinness in this film, and Lawrence Olivier (later Lord) as washed-up music hall performer Archie Rice in "The Entertainer" (another example of extinct adult film drama). Either one of them should have won the Academy Award for best actor of 1960 but didn't (Olivier was nominated; Guinness wasn't; in any case, both had won statuettes previously).
I digress at the outset, in order to justify why I'd want to read an autiobiography of Guinness. As it happened, the man wrote several, at least three that I know of, and I only know this because those three showed up on the clearance shelf for $2 apiece at Half Price Books in the last few days.
This one is the earliest of those, and it whisks us back effortlessly to Guinness' sort-of Dickensian boyhood and his early brushes with the early 20th century British theater. But first, the great actor apologizes, refreshingly, for the embellishments of his Ego; he disarms and charms the reader right off the bat. The wit sparkles from the first sentence and the storytelling is free and deft and smooth as silk. He knows how to stick to a chronology but not rigidly so, unlike most stilted biographers today, so that he manages to complete a thought but not belabor the point -- telling us about a person's later life while he relates their earlier days. There's great satisfaction in this approach and genuine regard for the reader in it. Guinness was an actor who wrote better than 99 percent of people who call themselves writers.
We're introduced early on to eccentrics and theater folk who took the young Guinness to their hearts and wings; marvelous stories of a washed-up old recluse who once entertained, so she claimed, before Russian royals (Guinness calls her a Mrs. Havisham; he doesn't much pretend to hide the Dickens influences and atmosphere he uses to frame the tale; his first major role was as Pocket in the 1946 version of "Great Expectations," after all). And then there's the story of how his roses sent to the renowned stage actress Sybil Thorndike got him an exclusive peek backstage to see how thunder and rain special effects were made -- with Thordike herself turning the metallic crank. I'm very early into the book and already it's an intoxicating, winning and utterly irresistible read by the kind of man who must have been an amazing dinner conversationalist (or monologuist, for who would do anything other than listen?). I'm already confident enough in this to give it five stars.

PAGE 77: "'Measure for Measure', with Charles Laughton, Flora Robson and James Mason was the finest evening of Shakespeare I had as yet experienced..."

This actually makes me damn-near weep to think about: Laughton, Robson and Mason on the same stage at the same time. It makes me pissed that we will never see anything like this again, and that I never saw it...

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautifully written "memoir" by the great actor Alec Guinness. That said, it's not a linear telling. It does start with Alec's early years. Guinness was an illegitimate child, he didn't know his father (though he has an idea who it might have been), and his mother appears as a sketchy vague sort of figure. Early on she marries a violent and abusive Scottish army captain, though the marriage only lasts a few years. Around this time Guinness would fall in love with acting after briefly meeting a former elderly actress who lived in an apartment downstairs from him. At this point you can't help but think that Guinness was living the life of Dickens' character. There is probably design to this, but it's skillfully rendered. As the chapters go by Guinness shuttles back and forth in time. One moment he's struggling actor in pre-WW 2 London, this next he's going out to dinner with Sophia Loren. Another moment he's piloting a ship in WW 2. In lesser hands this could be pretty annoying, but Guinness writes wonderfully throughout achieving a fine balance with his narrative. He does spend considerable time in the first third or so of the book discussing his conversion of Roman Catholicism. I found this fascinating -- up to a point. Clearly it's foundational for Guinness, an important part of his being. And you do notice that a number of his excellent chapter portraits of fellow actors (most of them eccentric as can be), also happen to be Catholic or Catholic converts. A few times however it gets a bit precious and on-his-sleeve. All in all however a very enjoyable read. But if you're looking for juicy Star Wars stuff, you'll have to look elsewhere. Guinness, drenched by decades of Shakespearian roles, viewed the project as a very nice paycheck with nice special effects and a totally banal script. Nothing more.

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

Odd but charming memoir. Picked this up on a whim, don't remember where or when. Did not like it at first, so it sat around gathering dust for a while. But I knew it had to be interesting, because how could it not be? Eventually started reading it again and it held my interest. In the end, I enjoyed it, but still find it as odd as it is charming. You get some funny stories, and some touching ones, and a bit of a peek behind the scenes of theater and movies, but if you can make head or tail of it as a whole, please explain it to me.

[Gina Dalfonzo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Alec Guinness was as gifted a writer as he was an actor, and that's saying something. Shining through this memoir are his great wit, his humility (rare in a star of his magnitude!), and his gift for seeing the good in almost everyone -- a fortunate gift for him, because some of the people he knew were absolute horrors. There was the poet who refused to speak to him for two years after he said he liked Beethoven; the actress who declared she couldn't act with him and got him fired from his first leading role; the actor who decked him as he walked through a door, just because he (the decker) was in a bad mood. Sir Alec treats most of these as little more than amusing quirks. I'd probably be on the psychiatrist's couch, sobbing and tearing my hair out. But his friendships were deeply important to him -- made clear in the lovely last line ("Of one thing I can boast; I am unaware of ever having lost a friend") -- and he was able to see the big picture with these people, and balance the good and the bad. His generous, affectionate, and forgiving spirit taught me some things that will be helpful in my own life and relationships.

His description of actress Edith Evans is typical: "When I think of her now . . . my mind see-saws between gratitude for what she was, her enormous generosity in big things, and exasperation at her meanness in small ones, amusement at her egocentricity, reverence for her artistry, and astonishment at her occasional lapses into artistic blindness, which almost amounted to dishonesty. If I think of, and record, a pettiness or silliness in Edith's behaviour, I can always cheerfully outweigh it with five times as many actions of human warmth, affection and wisdom. . . . Let me put two of her different sides back to back, so to speak, like bookends and then cap her large, generous action with the gesture of beautiful thoughtfulness and kindness she showed me."

And he enjoys telling a good story on himself as well as on others. Some of his stories of theatrical mishaps and wartime blunders made me laugh aloud.

Guinness doesn't even attempt to tell this story in any kind of order. Chapters are organized around various people who were important to him, with a couple of exceptions (there's one chapter on his conversion to Catholicism, and another on his war service). He jumps back and forth in time, and from place to place, stringing together anecdotes haphazardly. You'll get several pages about his experiences in Cuba, and then all of a sudden we're in Spain, by way of Ireland. By the same token, he'll suddenly plop down a character in the midst of his narrative, and not get around to introducing him or her until later. But I got used to all of this quickly, and the book as a whole was so enjoyable, it didn't bother me.

This book heightened my appreciation for Alec Guinness as an actor, a writer, a Christian, and a human being. It must have been a joy to know him. All those friends were very blessed indeed.

[Neal Alexander · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Radio 4 portrait of Alec Guinness claimed that he used to humiliate his wife in front of house guests, and that he opened a celebratory bottle of champagne after his mother’s funeral. So I was surprised by how much time I had for him by the end of this book. Not least because of his navy service in WWII: getting a landing craft across the Atlantic in winter, never mind taking it - and its successor after being shipwrecked in a storm - through two years of combat.

Although not always sympathetic – he admits a fondness for the ‘bitchy remark’ – he does makes himself the butt of several stories. Like the theatre director telling him he was no actor and to get off the f-ing stage, or, when out to see a play, proud of his new officer’s uniform, being handed a ticket by a lady who thought was a commissionaire.

This makes some trumpet-blowing acceptable. Like an argument which Peggy Ashcroft had about him with a director of a production of The Seagull. She’d commented on how Guinness made the audience believe he was pulling on a real rope when just miming. The director pooh-poohed, saying that of course there was a real rope. There wasn’t.

It’s hard to disagree with him about acting. Here he’s sympathizing with Alan Bennett’s hatred of ‘great acting’. “I know what he meant: the self-importance, the authoritative central stage position, the meaningless pregnant pause, the beautiful gesture which is quite out of character, the vocal pyrotechnics, the suppression of fellow actors into dummies who just feed, and the jealousy of areas where the light is brightest, above all the whiff of, ‘You have come to see me act, not to watch a play.’”

In 1955, arriving jetlagged in LA for his first Hollywood film, he couldn’t get a restaurant table till a young actor took pity on him and invited him to join his group. In the car park, the young actor couldn’t resist pointing out his new gift-wrapped sports car. “In a voice I could hardly recognise as my own” Guinness prophesied that he would die within four weeks if he drove it. Which he did: James Dean, of course.

[Steve Higgins · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book came with a lot of good reviews and it starts off well with Guinness talking about his youth but then he goes off onto another episode of his life completely out of sequence from the last. The book appears to be a sequence of random thoughts and observations, some are interesting, others not. He spends entire chapters on dull and uninteresting people yet glosses over encounters with Sophia Loren, Richard Burton and many other film luminaries. One really annoying aspect was numerous oblique mentions of his wife but she is never properly introduced, neither are we ever advised as to how Alec met or married her.
Well written but ultimately disappointing.

[Elyse Hayes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Charming, self-effacing autobiography. A delightful read. Chock full of amusing anecdotes about famous and not-so-famous and often eccentric people he knew. Covers his early years, his stint in the Navy, as well as his acting career. I very much enjoyed this book, and his "voice," but I was a little disappointed, because I was hoping he would share his conversion (to Roman Catholicism) story. He only mentioned religion fleetingly. Looking forward to reading the other autobiographical works he wrote (My Name Escapes Me is the one after this).

[Jamie Manley · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a decent read. Not my favorite though. Alec Guinness is one of my favorite comedic actors and unfortunately most of the book is about his theater career and his time in the navy. There is only one chapter about his career in film. I think I’ll track down one of his biographies. We’ll see. 3.75 stars.

[Robin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a very different autobiography. Almost each chapter focuses on a specific person who affected his life. There are great stories that shine a light into his life working in theatre. There's a longer chapter from when he served in WWII. His is a great writing voice, and you can tell how much he observes people.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Totally charming memoirs, but NOT an autobiography. Mostly reflections on people he's known through the years. Lots of information on Guinness, but mostly in context of his relationships with other people. Very little info on his movie career -- just about 25 pages.

[Don Palmer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great gossipy fun - and funny too. Enjoyed learning about the 20th century Brit theater world (Guiness was friends with Olivier, Gielgud, Richardson and others). Not as much about his experience in the movies - but, he has 2 other volumes of memoirs I will read and I hope to learn more there.

[Graychin · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Damage to the Allied Cause.” That’s the joking title of my favorite chapter from Alec Guinness’s memoir Blessings in Disguise. The actor (unfairly best remembered today as the original Obi Wan Kenobi) captained various landing craft and supply ships for the Royal Navy, but without a very high estimate of his own value to the war effort.

He tells a good story about training in Scotland for the deployment that would eventually take him to Italy and the Adriatic:

“Among the crew of TLC 24 was a young burly Scot of great innocence and charm. He looked on me as quite remarkably well-educated because he had seen me reading Bleak House. One night he knocked on the cabin door and asked me to settle a dispute on the lower-deck; it was true, wasn’t it, that there were giant birds with bat’s wings, that flew round and round the moon? He had read about them in a comic. No, I was pretty sure it wasn’t true. Another evening he came asking, very solemnly, if it was true that when a man died his soul could be seen leaving the top of his head like a puff of smoke. The Coxswain had said he didn’t believe it. The Scot was insatiable for knowledge and philosophical truth.”

Not even these comic interludes could cheer Guinness, however. The world was falling to pieces around him, he wasn’t suited to military life, and there was no telling when – or if – he’d ever see his wife and child again:

“My gloom deepened. Everything seemed out of proportion and drab. Then I remembered that tucked away in my suitcase was a diminishing glass, which Martita Hunt had given me recently. It was a small, gold-rimmed, elegant eighteenth-century glass which, when held a few inches in front of the eye, produced a brilliant miniature picture. The grimmest sights could be made to appear delectable; the mountains of Argyllshire dwarfed to colourful hills; the grey water of the loch achieved a dizzy sparkle and, above all, people could be reduced, when required, to exquisite manikins. I searched out this pretty object and, from then on, nearly always had it in a pocket.”

I had never heard of a “diminishing glass” before reading this and could only imagine Guinness looking through the wrong end of an old-fashioned spyglass. It turns out that a diminishing glass (also known as a “Claude glass,” after the painter Claude Lorrain) was a convex mirror used to view landscapes. It worked something like tilt-shift photography or an Instagram filter, compressing and framing the scene, subtly altering light and colors, and generally making things look better – or at least more picturesque – than they do in real life.

What an eccentric consolation, I thought. And yet, how natural. With a diminishing glass, you turn your back on the object you want to look at. You see it at a remove, obliquely. How often we do something similar, intellectually, when confronted by things we’d rather not contemplate: sickness and death, violence and war, people we resent, even our own failings. We peer at them indirectly, warp the lines, alter the tones, and frame them in to make them prettier than they are, or less threatening.

[Colin McQueen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was intrigued enough by the quotes from this book to recommend it as a book club read. I wasn’t disappointed. Alec Guinness has a way with words and the telling of a story that makes many other books I have read seem childlike. He was clearly a well educated, well read man who cared about friends. Whilst being frank and lucid about the faults of others (he demonstrates his own faults too) he is almost always kind and sees people in the round.

The insight to a serious actors life prior to digital media is enlightening and soaked in humour and pathos. He clearly has an acute sense of the worth of acting and good theatre. Having been brought up on the black and white films such as ‘The Lavender Hill Mob’ I can now better understand why they were so well acted. It was the fact the actors had come from the stage.

The gentle sprinkling of his faith journey, vulnerable discussion about his illegitimacy and humble but lucid descriptions of his wartime career only add to a wonderful book.

There was a bit half way that I felt was a bit slow but I did like his circling round to topics such that the whole book had a poetic structure. The world is a lesser place without such people as Sir Alec Guinness.

[Rob Smith, Jr. · Rating 3 out of 5]

I know Guinness' work far beyond Star Wars. My favorite performance is as Father Brown, in the film of the same name. He was a remarkable actor who had what is found often with British actors, the ease of humour and pathos. Apparently writing was not a strength. What i found the worst issue of the book could have been an errant editor, but the layout stinks. There's a great actor's life to be told here. Instead it's an out of order collection of tales that, i found, didn't always seem to connect. I ended wondering how much was true.

Moreover, so much is missing. If the order issue is Guinness' idea, it would seem he didn't want his life told revealing certain details. I would've loved to better understand the bridge from a difficult youth to education to acting. Intead it's splt it up in different parts of the book. Of course, it is Guinness' book and he does indicate he does like privacy in more than one place.

The stories included are mostly good. Tales of Edith Evans and Gielgud and Richardson are worth the reading.

Bottom line: I recommend the book. 6 out of ten points.

[Luis Alberto Moreno · Rating 2 out of 5]

No recuerdo quien me recomendó este libro como una excelente biografía, y la verdad es que me encantaría recordarlo, para decirle cuatro cosas.
Me ha parecido un despropósito por muchas cosas.
Para empezar la parte cinematográfica se reduce a diez páginas, y todo el resto habla del periodo hasta la Segunda Guerra Mundial, centrado en el teatro, y en hablar de docenas de actores británicos de esa época, que el común de los mortales no sabe ni quienes son. Nula mención a toda la parte de su participación en películas de Hollywood, que es obviamente lo que más puede interesar a los que se acerquen a este libro.
Y por otra parte, más que hablar de su vida, lo que cuenta son anécdotas de esta docena de actores británicos absolutamente desconocidos para un no británico, y probablemente para la mayoría de los británicos.
En resumen, un tostón bastante importante, y una sucesión de historias bien intencionadas sobre personas muy majas, pero muy desconocidas.

[J. Merwin · Rating 3 out of 5]

I hear there are 2 more books in his autobiography...this one covers his childhood and early years with much emphasis on the theater and all who helped him...he very casually mentions a few of the films he was in but doesn't spend much time on them or about his experiences...he doesn't give them as much weight as every single theater production he saw or was in. He is a marvelous writer though, very descriptive and funny but he just throws familiar names out once in a while and titles of his films like 'The Horse's Mouth', etc. (My favorite early film of his, such a fabulous movie, he spent one small paragraph on a viewing of it at an embassy in Mexico and that was it.) He did such a job in DAvid Lean's Great Expectations, and he was young, I thought he would mention that apart from dropping the title. I LOVE Alec Guinness but found this first book ultimately disappointing.

[Christine Sinclair · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this book in perfect condition at a thrift store in The Dalles, OR, on vacation. (I love the Al Hirschfeld caricature of the actor on the dust jacket!) Alec Guinness was a great character actor, famous in films such as The Bridge on the River Kwai and as Obi Wan Kenobi in Star Wars. This memoir covers his life in the London theater, mainly, as well as his stint in the Navy in WWII and his conversion to Catholicism. He is an excellent writer, bringing to life many actors and directors from the 1930's and 40's (most of whom I previously did not know). His reminiscences are warm-hearted, humorous and historic; there's even an anecdote about Fidel Castro! Alec Guinness did indeed have "Genuine Class," the spontaneous anagram Dick Cavett discovered when seeing his name in lights. This book is "a marvellous Guinness record!" (Anthony Burgess, Observer)

[Chrisanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Guinness is a skilled writer. He weaves his tales and vignettes of "the great dead" simply, in an unpretentious tone and then, when you're not expecting it, slips in a wry, comical but wisely accurate observation that makes you pause and reflect and/or laugh.

His preface was particularly clever and enlightening, as was his lengthy chapter on his religious journey and his time in the Navy during WWII.

I found myself looking for events, moments, coincidences, that were the blessings in disguise referenced in the title. As I came to the end of the book I realized that it wasn't the moments that he was highlighting. It was the people that were the blessings in disguise. So, perhaps, it is with us.

[Sarah Obren · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this look into Alec's personal and professional life. From very humble beginnings, to his struggling early days in the theatre, to his time served in the English Navy during WWII, and finally onto his ventures in film, this was an insightful and retrospective tale that I'm glad I read. Overall, he talks mostly of his friends and experiences from the theatre and all of the truly eccentric personalities that surrounded him. (That's actors for ya!) If you've ever been involved in acting or the theatre I think you will really enjoy this one!

[Anup Sinha · Rating 2 out of 5]

I love Alec Guinness but I admittedly didn't get a lot out of his book. Had I been familiar with the theater scene in England during his youth, I am sure I would have enjoyed it more but I ended up skimming most of it. He didn't talk much about his big movies that I wanted to hear about and his writing style is pretty dry.

[Tim Ganotis · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not my favorite. This is the second Guinness autobiography I've read, and I want to like him, but he just comes across as a grouchy, picky, old man. I couldn't care less about his theater experiences in the 1930s (or British theater in general), though his wartime stories and later film parts were interesting. A decent book, but not for me.

[Sevelyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Book begins with his humble beginnings in poverty and continues with his rise in theater and film. Needless to say, he emerges indebted to David Lean and many of the personages we grew up watching w adulation and wonder. Should have enormous appeal to Martita Hunt fans, she was Miss Havisham in Lean’s “Great Expectations.” Interesting account of his time in the Navy.

[Sebastian · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very well written and a joy to read. It helps a lot if you are interested in theater and/or are aquainted with the persons he writes about. I am not interested in theater and too young to know them, but it is still an enjoyable read and I will make sure to watch a few of his movies.

[Melinda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Alec Guinness writes beautifully. What difficulties in his early days, but he does not dwell on them or exhibit bitterness or anger. A fascinating life, and a kind and gentle attitude towards all.

[Cheryl · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am always intrigued by titles of books and can't wait for it to dawn on me how the plot applies and visa versa. A little disappointed with this book title as it relates to the storyline but not the story or writing in itself.

[Alison · Rating 3 out of 5]

Charming read, but not an autobiography and I did struggle in places. Some wonderful anecdotes and memories. An awful lot I didn’t know about him. Would definitely recommend for fans of his and the period he writes about.

[Rusty Posey · Rating 4 out of 5]

I envisioned Alec telling the stories as he first explained the force to Luke Skywalker in his portrayal of Obi-wan Kenobi. The only disappointment for me is the lack of stories from his filming of Star Wars.