Hettie MacDonald's 1996 romantic comedy Beautiful Thing, from the play by Jonathan Harvey, is my most-loved comfort movie, with a script I know almost by heart. Such is my affection for the movie that when I discovered Harvey had also written a television series, BBC Two's Beautiful People, I rushed to watch and re-watch every episode and was delighted to find what felt like a 12-episode version of the spirit of my favorite movie. And so I came by a circuitous route to this book, the memoir by Simon Doonan on which the BBC show is (loosely) based, which I picked up hoping to find yet another iteration of the warm, loving humor that draws me to Harvey's screen works. Unfortunately here my luck ran out. This book, a loosely linked collection of memories from both Doonan's early and adult life, is simply deeply unpleasant to read. For one thing, Doonan is far from gifted as a prose writer, with "quirky" writerly habits - such as invariably referring to his domicile as "chez nous" no matter what the context - that quickly become maddening. Far more importantly, though, there's a spirit of meanness, a pronounced callowness (a different thing from levity, which, for instance, David Sedaris has a knack for evoking) about severe mental illness, and an unmistakable thread of casual racism running through the book. Perhaps the last few chapters strike a more thoughtful note, but I'm put off enough by the first 180 pages to abandon it now - and the second star is solely for the "Camp" chapter, which offers an insightful and entertaining look at an adolescent exploration of the meaning of "camp." Overall I'm greatly disappointed.