Writing Home
by Alan Bennett
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Bringing together the hilarious, revealing, and lucidly intelligent writing of one of England's best known literary figures, Writing Home includes the journalism, book and theater reviews, and diaries of Alan Bennett, as well as "The Lady in the Van," his unforgettable account of Miss Shepherd, a London eccentric who lived in a van in Bennett's garden for more than twenty years. This revised and updated edition includes new material from the author, including more recent diaries and his show more introduction to his Oscar-nominated screenplay for The Madness of King George. A chronicle of one of the most important literary careers of the twentieth century, Writing Home is a classic history of a life in letters. show lessTags
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I know I'm not going to be popular with this, seeing as Alan Bennett is considered a National Treasure, but I didn't get on with this book at all. Where other reviewers have praised his wry observations I could only find tedium. I repeatedly told myself that I was missing something and persevered until the end of The Lady in the Van (page 130) but then resignedly gave up, not able to face the rest of the 612 pages. I did smile occasionally at his wit and sense of humour but I'm afraid it's not enough to save the book. I've taken it off the shelf repeatedly but felt the same every time, so I think it's time to let it go.
Alan Bennett is one of the great writers/playwrights to emerge out of 20th Century Britain.
Writing Home is a collection of thoughts, observations. and recollections. The true account of his encounter with The Lady in the Van is quintessential Bennett.
Bennett is the author of the astonishing one-person plays "Talking Heads". His funny, shrewd, unsentimental, and always poignant and compassionate observations of human faults are painfully familiar and uncompromising.
As I wrote in a review of these plays on Amazon some years ago: So revered is this man and his writings that he is sometimes called England's National Teddy Bear. But don't be fooled by that gentle moniker: this teddy bear has teeth and claws he keeps only barely, if you'll show more pardon an unintended pun, retracted. show less
Writing Home is a collection of thoughts, observations. and recollections. The true account of his encounter with The Lady in the Van is quintessential Bennett.
Bennett is the author of the astonishing one-person plays "Talking Heads". His funny, shrewd, unsentimental, and always poignant and compassionate observations of human faults are painfully familiar and uncompromising.
As I wrote in a review of these plays on Amazon some years ago: So revered is this man and his writings that he is sometimes called England's National Teddy Bear. But don't be fooled by that gentle moniker: this teddy bear has teeth and claws he keeps only barely, if you'll show more pardon an unintended pun, retracted. show less
A book full of scraps and tid-bits that nobody in their serious mind should attempt to read, let alone buy. Supposedly, most of these 'occasional pieces' were once published or unpublished. Much of it is either very boring or of inimitably little interest. The Diaries, for examples, tell us nothing whatsoever, as with most other pieces. Personally, I most enjoyed two reviews, about Auden and Kafka, although the one about Kafka was too long and lost my interest towards the end, where the author strayed and became more preoccupied with himself (again).
It took me an incredibly long time to finish this tome (of 630+ pages), and I feel I wasted a lot of time reading it.
I would advise anyone to take it from a library and read only those parts show more which have your particular interest, rather than attempt to swallow the whole book. show less
It took me an incredibly long time to finish this tome (of 630+ pages), and I feel I wasted a lot of time reading it.
I would advise anyone to take it from a library and read only those parts show more which have your particular interest, rather than attempt to swallow the whole book. show less
A readable, intelligent and often funny collection. Alan Bennett comes across as utterly honest, to us as well as to himself.
I very recently read two books by Pierre Chatillon, and quite a few chapters begin with him describing how much he loved/loves to go camping/walking on the beach (either a river in Quebec or the seaside on the Mediterranean in the south of France (Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, Camargue), or in the Gulf of Mexico in Florida). While there, he consistently admired the seagulls, the waves, the sunrise, the sunset, and how much these all meant to his life. Since he is a poet, he describes them poetically and even quotes some of his poems.
I remember years ago reading one commentator who wrote that good editing is when there are not excessive repetitions in a book. Short and tight is the ideal. After two books in about a week where it seemed like show more most chapters began with a couple of paragraphs or with a couple of pages about the wonderful bodies of water and the flowers and the birds, I was starting to get worn out by it.
So imagine my surprise and relief when I started my next book, Writing Home, by Alan Bennett and saw a total contrast. This is because he was a kid in Leeds, Great Britain during WWII. His Dad was a butcher and they were not so well off. So the books in his school all had kids going on happy picnics by a farm with bunnies and cows and chickens and a nice blanket spread on the ground, etc., etc. Apparently in the north of England, the beaches are not as glamourous as the places Pierre Chatillon visits, and he went to countryside inns where his parents felt they were too poor to actually eat in the dining room and brought bagged lunches from home only. Oh wait, Alan Bennett's mother would break down and order spaghetti on toast, or a poached egg on toast.
After about 5 or 10 pages, I sighed in relief that I would not have to endure any more long descriptions on how much the beach and the waves and the sunrise and the birds mean to that particular author
"It was a village called Wilsill, in Nidderdale. There were a few houses, a shop, a school and a church and, though we were miles from any town, even here the stream had been dammed to make a static water tank in readiness for the firefighters and the expected bombs.". show less
I remember years ago reading one commentator who wrote that good editing is when there are not excessive repetitions in a book. Short and tight is the ideal. After two books in about a week where it seemed like show more most chapters began with a couple of paragraphs or with a couple of pages about the wonderful bodies of water and the flowers and the birds, I was starting to get worn out by it.
So imagine my surprise and relief when I started my next book, Writing Home, by Alan Bennett and saw a total contrast. This is because he was a kid in Leeds, Great Britain during WWII. His Dad was a butcher and they were not so well off. So the books in his school all had kids going on happy picnics by a farm with bunnies and cows and chickens and a nice blanket spread on the ground, etc., etc. Apparently in the north of England, the beaches are not as glamourous as the places Pierre Chatillon visits, and he went to countryside inns where his parents felt they were too poor to actually eat in the dining room and brought bagged lunches from home only. Oh wait, Alan Bennett's mother would break down and order spaghetti on toast, or a poached egg on toast.
After about 5 or 10 pages, I sighed in relief that I would not have to endure any more long descriptions on how much the beach and the waves and the sunrise and the birds mean to that particular author
"It was a village called Wilsill, in Nidderdale. There were a few houses, a shop, a school and a church and, though we were miles from any town, even here the stream had been dammed to make a static water tank in readiness for the firefighters and the expected bombs.". show less
Wonderful mix of diary, memoir and essays. Funny and wise. Read it. The greatest living Yorkshireman?
First volume of semi-autobiography, augmented by diaries and excerpts from other writings. Lots about the Lady in the Van (Miss Shepherd), prefaces and background to many of his plays, including a good essay about Kafka and quite a few obituaries/funeral tributes.
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Author Information
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Bennett was born in Armley in Leeds, West Yorkshire. He decided to apply for a scholarship at Oxford University. He was accepted by Exeter College, Oxford from which he graduated with a first-class degree in history. He was born on May 9, 1934; he is an English author, actor, humorist and playwright. Bennett was made an Honorary Fellow of Exeter show more College, Oxford in 1987. He was also awarded a D.Litt by the University of Leeds in 1990 and an Hon. PhD from Kingston in 1996. In October 2008 Bennett announced that he was donating his entire archive of working papers, unpublished manuscripts, diaries and books to the Bodleian Library free of charge, as a gesture of thanks and repaying a debt he felt he owed to the UK's social welfare system that had given him educational opportunities which his humble family background would otherwise never have afforded. In 2015 his title, Six Poets: Hardy to Larkin: An Anthology by Alan Bennett, made The New Zealand Best Seller List. He also made the list in 2016 with his title The Lady in the Van. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
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Common Knowledge
- Original publication date
- 1994
- First words
- "What you want to be," Mam said to my brother and me, "is gentleman farmers. They earn up to 10 pounds a week."
- Quotations
- These Kallman names can't have helped. With a grandmother called Bobby and a stepmother called Syd, it's not surprising Chester turned out to be a nancy.
Auden was wise to want no biography written. The more one reads about him, the harder it is to see round him to the poetry beyond.
Sociology begins in the dustbin.
When the play reached Brighton the audience left in droves, something audiences in Brighton are very prone to do. Indeed, having toured there several times myself, I am convinced that one of the chief pleasures of going to th... (show all)e theatre in Brighton is leaving it. The sleek Sussex matrons sit poised in the stalls like greyhounds in the slips. The first "fuck" and they're a mile down the front. streaking for Hove. - Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)Except, when an actor thinks he has died a death, deceased and bereaved are one.
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