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A Positively Final Appearance
A New York Times Notable Book from an Oscar award-winning icon.
These journal entries are comprised of Sir Alec Guinness’s observations on Britain during the tumultuous times of Princess Diana’s death and the election of Tony Blair, and comments on his quintessentially English country life with his wife. Written from the summer of 1996 through 1998, A Positively Final Appearance is a follow-up to the best-selling My Name Escapes Me . Guinness offers frank (and surprising) reflections on the effects of appearing in the Star Wars films, and both hilarious and poignant memories of such well-known performers as Humphrey Bogart and Noel Coward. This delightful, humorous journal is a wonderful legacy from a beloved actor.
“Sly, witty, elegant . . . buoyant, vivid, and brave.”— The New York Times Book Review
“Simply, deliciously funny.”— The Washington Post
“Reading Guinness is like finally sitting down and soaking in the wisdom of the grandparent you never seem to have time for. And we may never see the likes of him again.”— Chicago Sun-Times
These journal entries are comprised of Sir Alec Guinness’s observations on Britain during the tumultuous times of Princess Diana’s death and the election of Tony Blair, and comments on his quintessentially English country life with his wife. Written from the summer of 1996 through 1998, A Positively Final Appearance is a follow-up to the best-selling My Name Escapes Me . Guinness offers frank (and surprising) reflections on the effects of appearing in the Star Wars films, and both hilarious and poignant memories of such well-known performers as Humphrey Bogart and Noel Coward. This delightful, humorous journal is a wonderful legacy from a beloved actor.
“Sly, witty, elegant . . . buoyant, vivid, and brave.”— The New York Times Book Review
“Simply, deliciously funny.”— The Washington Post
“Reading Guinness is like finally sitting down and soaking in the wisdom of the grandparent you never seem to have time for. And we may never see the likes of him again.”— Chicago Sun-Times
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1999
4 people are currently reading
191 people want to read
About the author
Alec Guinness
41 books20 followersAmong 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...
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...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
August 29, 2022
This is the successor to My Name Escapes Me and, while it's not quite up to that book's standards, its quality and charm bring it close enough to warrant four stars.
One interesting and positive impression I had while reading the book is that Mr. Guinness wasn't a name dropper, though given his lengthy career and associations, one might expect that he would have been. While he does mention various celebrities (usually fellow actors) at times, he gives as much attention to people who are not well known and even to his dogs and the plants on his property as he does to the well known. These days that's unusual and, I think, speaks volumes about Alec Guinness.
Writing about the passing of Beryl Daniels, a long time friend who got him a job as a copywriter when he left school and who gave him early encouragement when he began his career in the theatre:
"Her greatest, most endearing quality, was a genuine interest in everyone she knew: not just family and friends but even in those who rarely and briefly crossed her life."
What greater tribute could one pay than those words?
"The funeral of John Wells was held last Saturday.... Whether he chose the reading from Ecclesiastes I don't know but I would guess it was very much his taste. It is the passage which begins, 'To every thing there is a season ... a time to be born and a time to die.' The verse that most intrigues me is. 'A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.'
As I said goodbye to Theresa Wells I decided it was a time to refrain from embracing. I pray that my instinct was correct."
"The World Cup has held me, so far, for four evenings more or less glued to the box .... the enthusiastic piling up on top of team mates to congratulate, embrace, fondle and ruffle the hair of a goal scorer has now reached a new height of almost orgasmic absurdity. After watching some of these acrobatic, loving scrambles it struck me that actors might be encouraged to attempt the same sort of thing during performances.
After a round of applause, awarded by a simple-minded audience to the actor who had really worked hard for it (assisted of course, albeit negligibly, by the playwright) the actor should clench his fists aggressively, bend his knees and spring round the stage, mouth wide open, screaming and punching the air. This would be the cue for the rest of the cast to tumble him to the ground, sit on his face, derange his wig and generally knock the wind out of him. The audience would be encouraged to renew their applause, clapping their hands above their heads as if at a pop concert. It would be highly enjoyable. Drama critics could have a field day. 'Dame Flore Robson was sat on by the entire cast five times. I predict this will run and run.'"
"My meagre schoolboy French deserted me this morning when I was trying to explain to the manager that a lamp in our room wasn't working and I suspected it to be a dead bulb. On reflection I realize that what I came out with, translated, was, 'I fear the dead octopus isn't marching.'"
"To the younger generation I can only say, if asked, as Auden's Prospero does in his leave-taking of Ariel - 'then brave spirit/Ages to you of song and daring. and to me/Briefly Milan, then earth.' It seems a fair enough parting. Personally I have only one great regret - that I never dared enough. If at all. But no way. Not at all."
"On leaving (a restaurant) a charming chorus of hat-check girls said 'Have a good day as we groped our way out to the dark. The doorman, in Stygian black and wearing a curtailed top hat, looked remarkably like Ralph Fiennes playing an undertaker. He kindly offered to find us a taxi but I declined, fearing he might summon up a hearse."
Being uneducated, I admit that I had to look up the meaning of "Stygian".
"A few nights ago, leaving a London hotel where film stars often stay, I was astonished by the nice, chummy taxi-driver, who sort of recognized my face, when he said, 'I'll leave the lights on in the back of the cab; I expect that's what you like.' I had a picture of myself, brightly illuminated, waving from side to side in a traffic jam, with bewildered passers-by asking each other, 'Who's the dotty old party all lit up?'
'Put out the light', I said, 'and then put out the light.'
'Whatever you say, guv.'"
"I thought I would read another chapter of Skin Tight by Carl Hiassen, a good gruesome thriller with very funny bits. That was an absurd thing to do as I kept at it for an hour before forcing myself to switch off the light.
Disturbed I suppose by Hiassen's horrors I sat up abruptly in bed on this gloomy morning saying to myself, 'You have only another seven hundred days to live.'"
Whatever feelings one might have about dreams, Mr. Guinness' waking thought was close to being on the money. He passed away less than three months short of the time he imagined.
One interesting and positive impression I had while reading the book is that Mr. Guinness wasn't a name dropper, though given his lengthy career and associations, one might expect that he would have been. While he does mention various celebrities (usually fellow actors) at times, he gives as much attention to people who are not well known and even to his dogs and the plants on his property as he does to the well known. These days that's unusual and, I think, speaks volumes about Alec Guinness.
Writing about the passing of Beryl Daniels, a long time friend who got him a job as a copywriter when he left school and who gave him early encouragement when he began his career in the theatre:
"Her greatest, most endearing quality, was a genuine interest in everyone she knew: not just family and friends but even in those who rarely and briefly crossed her life."
What greater tribute could one pay than those words?
"The funeral of John Wells was held last Saturday.... Whether he chose the reading from Ecclesiastes I don't know but I would guess it was very much his taste. It is the passage which begins, 'To every thing there is a season ... a time to be born and a time to die.' The verse that most intrigues me is. 'A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.'
As I said goodbye to Theresa Wells I decided it was a time to refrain from embracing. I pray that my instinct was correct."
"The World Cup has held me, so far, for four evenings more or less glued to the box .... the enthusiastic piling up on top of team mates to congratulate, embrace, fondle and ruffle the hair of a goal scorer has now reached a new height of almost orgasmic absurdity. After watching some of these acrobatic, loving scrambles it struck me that actors might be encouraged to attempt the same sort of thing during performances.
After a round of applause, awarded by a simple-minded audience to the actor who had really worked hard for it (assisted of course, albeit negligibly, by the playwright) the actor should clench his fists aggressively, bend his knees and spring round the stage, mouth wide open, screaming and punching the air. This would be the cue for the rest of the cast to tumble him to the ground, sit on his face, derange his wig and generally knock the wind out of him. The audience would be encouraged to renew their applause, clapping their hands above their heads as if at a pop concert. It would be highly enjoyable. Drama critics could have a field day. 'Dame Flore Robson was sat on by the entire cast five times. I predict this will run and run.'"
"My meagre schoolboy French deserted me this morning when I was trying to explain to the manager that a lamp in our room wasn't working and I suspected it to be a dead bulb. On reflection I realize that what I came out with, translated, was, 'I fear the dead octopus isn't marching.'"
"To the younger generation I can only say, if asked, as Auden's Prospero does in his leave-taking of Ariel - 'then brave spirit/Ages to you of song and daring. and to me/Briefly Milan, then earth.' It seems a fair enough parting. Personally I have only one great regret - that I never dared enough. If at all. But no way. Not at all."
"On leaving (a restaurant) a charming chorus of hat-check girls said 'Have a good day as we groped our way out to the dark. The doorman, in Stygian black and wearing a curtailed top hat, looked remarkably like Ralph Fiennes playing an undertaker. He kindly offered to find us a taxi but I declined, fearing he might summon up a hearse."
Being uneducated, I admit that I had to look up the meaning of "Stygian".
"A few nights ago, leaving a London hotel where film stars often stay, I was astonished by the nice, chummy taxi-driver, who sort of recognized my face, when he said, 'I'll leave the lights on in the back of the cab; I expect that's what you like.' I had a picture of myself, brightly illuminated, waving from side to side in a traffic jam, with bewildered passers-by asking each other, 'Who's the dotty old party all lit up?'
'Put out the light', I said, 'and then put out the light.'
'Whatever you say, guv.'"
"I thought I would read another chapter of Skin Tight by Carl Hiassen, a good gruesome thriller with very funny bits. That was an absurd thing to do as I kept at it for an hour before forcing myself to switch off the light.
Disturbed I suppose by Hiassen's horrors I sat up abruptly in bed on this gloomy morning saying to myself, 'You have only another seven hundred days to live.'"
Whatever feelings one might have about dreams, Mr. Guinness' waking thought was close to being on the money. He passed away less than three months short of the time he imagined.
March 27, 2017
I'm fairly familiar with Guinness' movies and I know something about his life, but this is the first time I've encountered him as an author. The book was an unusual reading experience for me since it is a journal written for an audience. Guinness gets away with not organizing his thoughts and sometimes the narrative seems a bit stream-of-conscious. Memories are all jumbled up with the present. I never lost track, but the lack of transitions between completely different subjects is quite jarring. I guess that's the way journals are, but as I said, this was meant to be read by others.
I felt that Guinness did this project for the money, not to leave a legacy. He talks about money and his relative poverty all the time. (Give me a break.) This book seems to have been somewhat easy for him. The man has quite a few quotations available in his head -- particularly from Shakespeare -- and he applies them to just about any situation, including the birds and animals he so loved.
I've seen enough of Guinness' movies to know that he was quite gifted in comedies and drama. But I never knew he acted on the stage throughout his life, and did much Shakespeare with the Old Vic and elsewhere. He even played Hamlet.
So Guinness sails through this book talking about whatever he wants: his wife, his grand and great grandchildren, his dogs and fish and the birds outside, his life, politics, Mass, his vacations, his memories etc. And it's interesting because you want to know about the great Sir Alec. But one has the feeling he's not letting you read between the lines. It's all very controlled, if scattered.
I felt that Guinness did this project for the money, not to leave a legacy. He talks about money and his relative poverty all the time. (Give me a break.) This book seems to have been somewhat easy for him. The man has quite a few quotations available in his head -- particularly from Shakespeare -- and he applies them to just about any situation, including the birds and animals he so loved.
I've seen enough of Guinness' movies to know that he was quite gifted in comedies and drama. But I never knew he acted on the stage throughout his life, and did much Shakespeare with the Old Vic and elsewhere. He even played Hamlet.
So Guinness sails through this book talking about whatever he wants: his wife, his grand and great grandchildren, his dogs and fish and the birds outside, his life, politics, Mass, his vacations, his memories etc. And it's interesting because you want to know about the great Sir Alec. But one has the feeling he's not letting you read between the lines. It's all very controlled, if scattered.
March 1, 2018
I surprised myself by loving this book. I am by no means usually a biography reader and certainly not from actors. Alec Guinness however delighted me no end with this gem! His ability to describe a beautiful, or heart-breaking, or mildly annoying scene or encounter is priceless. Imagine being blind and having to rely on one person to describe a scene to you such as an autumn garden or a dinner with friends.... Alec Guinness is the perfect person for the job. His anecdotes are exquisitely descriptive, humourous and warm without being pretentious or showy. Sometimes his reflections border on the sombre but in a hauntingly reflective and self-aware manner. The love and respect for his wife and family and pets shines through, as well as the respect and occasional jealousy of his friends. My only disappointment throughout the story was reading of his fairly staunch views on abortion (anti-abortionist to the core) but each to their own hey. Otherwise I was thoroughly enraptured with this beautifully descriptive, warm and charming story from what seemed to be a genuine man.
May 30, 2017
A 3 at times - a 4 at others - with some passages of sublime 5. I have not read his two other autobiographies- so I do feel at a disadvantage here - but there really is no rhyme or reason here- but quite a few - many passages that are transporting when Guinness describes moments from his past life on the stage - or hanging out with a drunk Beatrice Lillie on a transatlantic cruise - or in parts of France. Unfortunately - in the present time - Mr Guinness seems like a conservative crank - esp when commenting on current events and mores. And there are times when he so shamelessly plugs a restaurant or hotel that you swear he was paid by the owners to do so! Ah but when he talks about the ghosts of the New Theatre in London - or watching Gielgud on the stage - or eating dinner in London during air raid in WWII- it is poetic and captivating. He is also modest about his accomplishments - always humbly stating how he wished he could have been better orbdone more in his life. So I loved those moments and was charmed and delighted - and plowed through the more prosaic restaurant / hotel travelogues and recommendations. I was utterly delighted by his tales of Claude Rains and Orson Welles and old Hollywood and West End - though I'm sure some of those who do not know the references may find tedious or uninteresting - their loss.
December 3, 2024
I previously read My Name Escapes Me: The Diary of a Retiring Actor. Which I enjoyed. Also enjoyed this one.
Had a big laugh when he said he'd been approached to be in the movie of Evelyn Waugh's The Loved One. This would have been a satire and a far different movie from the one that actually came off. Scheduling didn't work out and so he wasn't in it.
Guinness knew when to hang it up. He had seen actors working beyond their prime and knew that he didn't want that to happen to him. Especially not the part about losing control of bodily functions on stage or on a film set.
Anyway, it was fun.
Had a big laugh when he said he'd been approached to be in the movie of Evelyn Waugh's The Loved One. This would have been a satire and a far different movie from the one that actually came off. Scheduling didn't work out and so he wasn't in it.
Guinness knew when to hang it up. He had seen actors working beyond their prime and knew that he didn't want that to happen to him. Especially not the part about losing control of bodily functions on stage or on a film set.
Anyway, it was fun.
April 25, 2018
Somehow I did not know of this third autobiography by my namesake until earlier this year. Having read his first two volumes, I dutifully tracked down the third which was written a few years before his passing. It was a relaxing read, mostly filled with lots of reminiscences about old English stage actors.
August 22, 2018
The years 1996 through 1998 were tumultuous times, In England they were heartbreaking and included the death of Princess Dianna. Alec Guinness tells all about it in a story of love, heartbreak and emotional anguish.
October 23, 2014
If you liked him as an actor, and I certainly did, you will enjoy the book. He has a trove of interesting anecdotes, and while in his own words he does not emerge as someone comfortable to know in real life --- Guiness is acerbic and reserved on paper, so God knows that it must have been like to be around him --- the aforementioned qualities make him a peculiarly satisfying journalist. He has a keen eye for his surroundings (and Star Wars, however much he despised it, allowed Sir Alec a pretty decent standard of living in his old age, a fact he was the first to admit) that makes his accounts of both the English countryside and holiday jaunts with wife Merula a pleasure to read.
April 29, 2021
I have now read all three of the late actor's memoirs and have enjoyed them. This last one gave me several 'laugh out loud' moments, but I also had a few moments which I can only describe as 'unease', although it is difficult to quantify this. Was it down to the current 'woke' conversations and my disquiet coming from the sensitivities imposed on society at this time, or was it down to my own advancing years? Or something else. AG was firmly rooted in middle-class England both by background and his career choices. At one point in this volume he appears to be concerned about his finances and yet it is obvious from his lifestyle that, compared to a vast section of the UK population, he had a very privileged and comfortable lifestyle - travels across Europe etc which were definitely not of the 'package' or 'budget' variety, fine dining, frequent theatre trips, regular stays in London while visiting (presumably) private-sector health providers etc. I don't begrudge him any of that - he was a fine actor, but to claim that his income was only a fraction of that reported in the media (as he does) does not seem to stand up to close scrutiny and is a little insensitive to the lives of the millions of other citizens who work 'on the treadmill' for very much less.
Probably not a book for anyone born post 1990 but still enjoyable to theatre-lovers who grew up in 'other times'
Probably not a book for anyone born post 1990 but still enjoyable to theatre-lovers who grew up in 'other times'
June 18, 2019
"Two months ago I bought for the house a white, plastic, electric kettle. Yesterday I threw it away. It was quite a handsome instrument and to begin with I was full of praise for its performance. Water boiled quickly and the gauge, with a little red ball showing how full the kettle was, was also a satisfactory feature."
In this passage, Alec Guinness explains better than I could why this book disappoints.
Guinness is one of my favorites for his work in the Ealing comedies and the David Lean epics, let alone the Star Wars films. But while at times witty, the side he presents here is mostly drab and a little off-putting.
For instance, after meeting a kid who saw him as Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars more than a hundred times, Guinness asked him to never watch the film again, leading the kid to run away in tears. He did it, he said to avoid having the kid live "in a fantasy world of secondhand, childish banalities." Not the biggest Star Wars fan in the world, but even I think that makes him not a great actor, but a jerk.
If you truly love Guinness, go watch The Lavender Hill Mob or Lawrence of Arabia. Don't read this.
In this passage, Alec Guinness explains better than I could why this book disappoints.
Guinness is one of my favorites for his work in the Ealing comedies and the David Lean epics, let alone the Star Wars films. But while at times witty, the side he presents here is mostly drab and a little off-putting.
For instance, after meeting a kid who saw him as Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars more than a hundred times, Guinness asked him to never watch the film again, leading the kid to run away in tears. He did it, he said to avoid having the kid live "in a fantasy world of secondhand, childish banalities." Not the biggest Star Wars fan in the world, but even I think that makes him not a great actor, but a jerk.
If you truly love Guinness, go watch The Lavender Hill Mob or Lawrence of Arabia. Don't read this.
August 14, 2017
Conflicting thoughts. The beginning is joyful and often hilarious, the middle sags under the weight of dated references to a bygone era of British theatre (yes, my problem, I know) only to be propped up by fascinating and timely insights into Princess Diana's death and the election of Tony Blair. Towards the end there is a tale about Claude Rains that had me grinning unknowingly for about 10 minutes. This juxtaposition against the unpleasant poignancy of the late chapters makes me want to have enjoyed his last book more.
A gentleman, humble and brave. The next time I walk past the Cenotaph I will indeed doff my, no doubt, non-existing hat and take a moment, as Sir Alec Guinness reminds us, in remembrance for those who fought and died and, I'm sure he would mind, to the great man himself.
A gentleman, humble and brave. The next time I walk past the Cenotaph I will indeed doff my, no doubt, non-existing hat and take a moment, as Sir Alec Guinness reminds us, in remembrance for those who fought and died and, I'm sure he would mind, to the great man himself.
March 25, 2025
The writing style is a joy, articulate yet it flows with such ease. Much of the content is concerned with rather less than interesting domestic details whereas I found the reminisces more interesting given the fascinating life AG has had. The book has an almost melancholy air to it, reflecting that AG is heading to towards the final part of his life. This adds to the book's attraction.
In summary - a little inconsequential with no great revelations, but worth reading as a charming and beautifully told refection of a fascinating life.
In summary - a little inconsequential with no great revelations, but worth reading as a charming and beautifully told refection of a fascinating life.
December 13, 2024
Alec Guinness has such an acerbic air, and he was hilarious, always ready with a quip and an observation. There will never be another like him. The fact he was an amazing actor, he was obviously a family man, staying with the same wife throughout his career. Admirable man and actor.
August 7, 2017
OK, 3.5 stars. A follow-up to "My Name Escapes Me," his diary of 1995-96. This one is not as charming and is less of a diary and more reminiscing.
September 5, 2017
I loved this gentle, literate book by one of my favorite actors.
May 27, 2018
I enjoy reading about the immensely talented Sir Guinness, his live for his friends, his love for his wife, and his love for the arts. I wish I had the opportunity to meet the man.
December 26, 2022
An excellent set of reminiscences set within an account of the day to day life of this retired actor in 1997 and 1998, aged 83/84. Beautifully written.
January 23, 2023
Fabulous. Want to read all his others now.
January 30, 2014
"When I had finished it I felt bereft," writes Alec Guinness of a novel he had been reading. I know how he felt. Only it's worse for me, because this is the last of his books. There are no more of these delightful treasures from him, and that leaves me feeling very bereft indeed.
There was a touch of melancholy in this one that hadn't been there before -- possibly because this really was "a positively final appearance," and he knew it. ("I sat up abruptly in bed on this gloomy morning saying to myself, 'You have only another seven hundred days to live.' A quick rough reckoning gave me until November 2000." He was off by only about three months.) The humility that WAS there before has only increased, to a point that's sometimes painful to read about ("a thousand failings as a person, husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather and friend -- and my lazy, slapdash, selfish attitude as an actor").
But here also are all the things I loved in his other books -- the funny stories on all kinds of topics, including his fellow actors (Claude Rains makes an appearance in this one! Hurray!), and the affection for books and animals and all things beautiful, and the quiet but deep love for God and for family and friends. Some readers complain about a sense of reserve in Guinness's writing (in fact, in his whole persona), but it's actually one of the things I like best about him. He doesn't have to spill his guts all over the page; he shares what he prefers to share in his own way, and guards his innermost heart, and yet you still come away feeling that he's given you something truly meaningful. At least, that's how I feel. I'm reserved myself, so I can relate -- in fact, it makes me feel as if I understand him all the better. Introverts unite! :-)
Nothing could have surprised me more than to find a kindred spirit in the memoirs of an elderly British actor, but that's exactly what I did, and I'm so glad I discovered them. I only wish he had begun writing earlier, or lived a little longer, or both, so I'd have even more to enjoy.
One more thing: I love that cover photo. Nothing could have captured Guinness's spirit better than that simultaneously solemn face and capering figure. Perfect.
There was a touch of melancholy in this one that hadn't been there before -- possibly because this really was "a positively final appearance," and he knew it. ("I sat up abruptly in bed on this gloomy morning saying to myself, 'You have only another seven hundred days to live.' A quick rough reckoning gave me until November 2000." He was off by only about three months.) The humility that WAS there before has only increased, to a point that's sometimes painful to read about ("a thousand failings as a person, husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather and friend -- and my lazy, slapdash, selfish attitude as an actor").
But here also are all the things I loved in his other books -- the funny stories on all kinds of topics, including his fellow actors (Claude Rains makes an appearance in this one! Hurray!), and the affection for books and animals and all things beautiful, and the quiet but deep love for God and for family and friends. Some readers complain about a sense of reserve in Guinness's writing (in fact, in his whole persona), but it's actually one of the things I like best about him. He doesn't have to spill his guts all over the page; he shares what he prefers to share in his own way, and guards his innermost heart, and yet you still come away feeling that he's given you something truly meaningful. At least, that's how I feel. I'm reserved myself, so I can relate -- in fact, it makes me feel as if I understand him all the better. Introverts unite! :-)
Nothing could have surprised me more than to find a kindred spirit in the memoirs of an elderly British actor, but that's exactly what I did, and I'm so glad I discovered them. I only wish he had begun writing earlier, or lived a little longer, or both, so I'd have even more to enjoy.
One more thing: I love that cover photo. Nothing could have captured Guinness's spirit better than that simultaneously solemn face and capering figure. Perfect.
March 4, 2013
This diary of Alec Guinness's read more like a wandering journal. Without dated entries it was easy to get a bit confused about where we were in the month or even the year. While his first book, My Name Escapes Me, took us more or less week by week through the course of two years, this one is divided into chapters with less focus on his daily thoughts and more on his past memories. Written between June 1996 and December 1998 he explores past adventures in the war, the theater and traveling. At one point he rather mysteriously suggested that he had only 700 days left to live. It turns out he was right, but I'll leave that part of his life story to you and Wikipedia.
Alec Guinness was a fine and proper English gentleman from beginning to end. He enjoyed a turn of phrase perhaps better than anyone I've ever encountered. His musings were at times melancholic and at others very cheerful, even laugh out loud funny. Perhaps not quite as engaging as his first book it was still one worth reading while enjoying a cup of tea.
Alec Guinness was a fine and proper English gentleman from beginning to end. He enjoyed a turn of phrase perhaps better than anyone I've ever encountered. His musings were at times melancholic and at others very cheerful, even laugh out loud funny. Perhaps not quite as engaging as his first book it was still one worth reading while enjoying a cup of tea.
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August 11, 2016Ah, this is the one of the two that has the anecdote I was after. The man despised "Star Wars." A boy told him he'd seen the movie more than 100 times, and Guinness asked if the boy would do something for him, yes anything, even though he wouldn't like it, yes yes anything, then "Never watch that movie again."
He always has something worthy to say of the books he reads, either how it affected him or one perfect adjective or how he came to read one book or another, one author or another. His wife enjoyed Corelli's Mandolin but he did not, and he puts that in a way neither critical nor praiseworthy, just forgives himself (or the book) and moves on. Unlike the movie "The English Patient," which I'm glad to know he found interminable and useless. If he ever picks up the novel, which he hears is good, he doesn't confess it.
I guess I have never seen the "Oliver Twist" with him. He plays Fagin, which doesn't seem right, and only two years after he played Herbert Pocket in "Great Expectations," in which he was splendid. He's not mean or sly enough for Fagin.
He always has something worthy to say of the books he reads, either how it affected him or one perfect adjective or how he came to read one book or another, one author or another. His wife enjoyed Corelli's Mandolin but he did not, and he puts that in a way neither critical nor praiseworthy, just forgives himself (or the book) and moves on. Unlike the movie "The English Patient," which I'm glad to know he found interminable and useless. If he ever picks up the novel, which he hears is good, he doesn't confess it.
I guess I have never seen the "Oliver Twist" with him. He plays Fagin, which doesn't seem right, and only two years after he played Herbert Pocket in "Great Expectations," in which he was splendid. He's not mean or sly enough for Fagin.
June 19, 2012
If you only know Sir Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan Kenobi, then you're missing a bit. A lot, actually. Things like Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia, which tend to rate highly in my universe. This is Guinness' journal from 1997-98, following up his v. successful autobiography, Blessings in Disguise, and his second memoir, My Name Escapes Me.
It was v. interesting going back fifteen years to see what a professional actor made of things like the death of Diana and the faltering state of the British theatre. I grew particularly fond of Sir Alec's dogs, as he wrote about them. And I love that he stayed at the Connaught, but wrote about it as if it was the local B&B. A real gem of a memoir -- not quite as good, perhaps, as Peter O'Toole's Loitering with Intent, but easily the best writing I've ever read by a Jedi.
It was v. interesting going back fifteen years to see what a professional actor made of things like the death of Diana and the faltering state of the British theatre. I grew particularly fond of Sir Alec's dogs, as he wrote about them. And I love that he stayed at the Connaught, but wrote about it as if it was the local B&B. A real gem of a memoir -- not quite as good, perhaps, as Peter O'Toole's Loitering with Intent, but easily the best writing I've ever read by a Jedi.
August 22, 2007
This is just one of my dearest favorites ever.
This memoir by Sir Alec Guinness (written when the retired actor was in his eighties) comes in a sequence of long, meandering letters tenuously connected to seasons of the year. Guinness grazes gently over current events, commenting on the beginning of the Tony Blair era in Britain, history (including some war remembrances), and anecdotes from his life in the theatre.
It is not the most elegantly composed book, nor does it arrive at any compelling conclusions. The book wins me over completely by Guinness's gentle manner and wry wit, his affection for life and language and his wife. He writes beautifully and one can only regret that he discovered an uncanny talent as a memoirist so late in life. What a gentleman, what a gift.
This memoir by Sir Alec Guinness (written when the retired actor was in his eighties) comes in a sequence of long, meandering letters tenuously connected to seasons of the year. Guinness grazes gently over current events, commenting on the beginning of the Tony Blair era in Britain, history (including some war remembrances), and anecdotes from his life in the theatre.
It is not the most elegantly composed book, nor does it arrive at any compelling conclusions. The book wins me over completely by Guinness's gentle manner and wry wit, his affection for life and language and his wife. He writes beautifully and one can only regret that he discovered an uncanny talent as a memoirist so late in life. What a gentleman, what a gift.
November 27, 2014
This second book from Alec Guinness differs from his first book by not being a diary. It does cover a few of his day to day activities. We’re treated to his taste in literature and books as before. This time, aside from the odd household happening, he reflects back on a few moments in his career, and shares stories that other actors have shared with him. These look into the past have a gentle feel to them similar to the books by David Niven. Through the book you feel Alec Guinness retiring. While he loves the theater he knows his aging has circled him around to being in the audience, where he fell in love with theater, rather than being in the limelight – and he’s fine with it.
April 13, 2012
This delightful read is the second volume of Sir Alec Guinness' diaries - though this one doesn't have dated entries so it's more of a journal. Packed with entertaining thoughts and details of his everyday life, with more than a few reminiscences that make others' theatrical anecdotes about as interesting as a phone directory. From Garbo to Profumo via the royals - they're all here. Sir Alec could namedrop for England but it's all done beautifully and without pretension. Some of his stories are incredibly funny.
April 28, 2008
Prodigious name-dropping occurs, sadly wasted on youth that are not anglophiles. Took me minutes to remember who the Windsors are. Needs a list of persons in the back for american idiots like me. Otherwise, beautiful and reverent as Guinness enjoys the simple things in life like art, theater, food, friends, and his family. He spends much time in reflection about the past and about the wonders of nature. Lovely stuff.
July 19, 2013
A surprisingly deft writer, Guinness fuses memory with preparation for death with British aplomb. At times, he drifts into curmudgeonly nostalgia and some of his political asides are cringe-inducing, but as a quick read, it was enjoyable - if somewhat inaccessible when he wanders to discuss obscure mid-century British stage actors.
June 16, 2008
Not as good as the first installment and inferior to Blessings in Disguise. If you're looking to read something by Guinness I would suggest the above mentioned book before others. It (Blessings in Disguise) is a lot better than the diaries, the book under review being diary extracts.
February 20, 2011
Another volume of memories--somewhere between anecdotes and prose poems.
Political, profane, sacred, loving nature, observing people--a few hours with Alec Guinness.
Political, profane, sacred, loving nature, observing people--a few hours with Alec Guinness.
July 31, 2011
More pleasant, civilized fare from Guinness. The only sour note is his evident indifference--almost hostility--to seeing Pinochet brought to justice.
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