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Stephen Fry "The Fry Chronicles" (Michael Joseph)

Stephen Fry herein chronicles his life, or another section of it at least (see "Moab is my Washpot " for a more comprehensive biography of Fry’s younger years) including the beginnings of his launch into television, but not quite his launch into stardom. There is, it seems, another volume to come. Excuse me while I wriggle impatiently in my seat. There.
This book would serve as a reinforcement to anyone circling the Fry fandom; it’s the man’s quirks, vulnerabilities, flaws, endearing traits, towering and extraordinary strengths, story, connections and influences laid bare; an essence of Fry as much as a written history.
He’s one of few subjects, to my mind, whose biography might maintain your interest, but whose autobiography will fascinate, delight and entertain you, while imparting a certain introspective wisdom (and some pitiful moping, which will either annoy you or make you want to pat him gently) and plenty of pertinent facts. There are the hoped for anecdotes - two students meeting and saying ‘hullo’ a few times never took on more significance – and unexpected byways. And, of course, it’s a potted history of an era of British Comedy. And all of it is written in Fry’s own paradoxical brand of humility (which, he claims, stems from a perceived whomping arrogance, which is wrought from hideous insecurity which… well, read the book) and, more importantly, with that lunatic and lovely wordiness for which we value him, and gladly consider him one of our ambassadors of British brain and wit

Stephen Fry herein chronicles his life, or another section of it at least (see "Moab is my Washpot " for a more comprehensive biography of Fry’s younger years) including the beginnings of his launch into television, but not quite his launch into stardom. There is, it seems, another volume to come. Excuse me while I wriggle impatiently in my seat. There.
This book would serve as a reinforcement to anyone circling the Fry fandom; it’s the man’s quirks, vulnerabilities, flaws, endearing traits, towering and extraordinary strengths, story, connections and influences laid bare; an essence of Fry as much as a written history.
He’s one of few subjects, to my mind, whose biography might maintain your interest, but whose autobiography will fascinate, delight and entertain you, while imparting a certain introspective wisdom (and some pitiful moping, which will either annoy you or make you want to pat him gently) and plenty of pertinent facts. There are the hoped for anecdotes - two students meeting and saying ‘hullo’ a few times never took on more significance – and unexpected byways. And, of course, it’s a potted history of an era of British Comedy. And all of it is written in Fry’s own paradoxical brand of humility (which, he claims, stems from a perceived whomping arrogance, which is wrought from hideous insecurity which… well, read the book) and, more importantly, with that lunatic and lovely wordiness for which we value him, and gladly consider him one of our ambassadors of British brain and wit