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Russell Brand Memoirs #1
My Booky Wook
In 2006 Russell Brand exploded onto the international comedy scene. He has been named Time Outs Comedian of the Year, Best Newcomer at the British Comedy Awards, and Most Stylish Man by GQs Men. His UK stand-up tour was sold out and his BBC Radio 6 show became a cult phenomenon, the second most popular podcast of the year. Before the fame, however, Russells life was anything but glamorous. His father left when he was three months old, he was bulimic at age 12, and began drinking heavily and taking drugs by age 16. He regularly visited prostitutes in Soho, began cutting himself, took drugs on stage during his stand-up shows, and even set himself on fire while on crack cocaine. In 2003 Russell was told that he would be in prison, a mental hospital, or dead within six months unless he went into rehab. He has now been clean for three years, and hasnt looked back since. This is Russells amazing story.
405 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
About the author
Russell Brand
30 books1,636 followersRussell Edward Brand is an English comedian, actor, radio host, author, and activist. Brand dresses in a flamboyant bohemian fashion describing himself as looking like an "S&M Willy Wonka." Brand's current style consists of black eyeliner, drainpipe jeans, Beatle boots, and long, shaggy, backcombed hair.
In October 2010, Brand married pop singer Katy Perry. The two separated in December 2011.
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,668 reviews
July 7, 2018
i have said it before and i will say it again: junkies are boring.
many people did not want me to read this book.they tried to save me. but this was my very last book for my reader's advisory class: the memoir,and i was so hoping to go out on a good note, me in my post-winter's bone rut. so i took a turn through the memoir section, and they seemed to fall into a couple of broad categories:
i'm drunk:
i can't keep my legs together:
i'm drunk and i can't keep my legs together:
i have overcome some awful illness:
i have lived in an area of current geographical trendiness:
the above topics are kind of tedious, to me. and russell brand came to the store for a reading for this book,and he was funny and energetic and freakishly tall, and he blazed through the store like some sequined crazy-storm, grabbing and kissing every lady in his path.
but this? i was so bored with it that i spend much of mother's day morning discovering and mockingly voting for greg's early fossilized reviews. do join me!
while i am not as militantly anti-sex as others i have encountered, reading about other people's sex lives is, ultimately, boring. and i am so desensitized to exploits, that nothing is shocking anymore. when i was in high school,i confess, i read both the led zeppelin book and the doors book. after you read about robert plant sticking a fish in some groupie's...regions.. russell brand's dropping trou atop a van is almost pedestrian as a "sexual" act. oh no, he got locked outside his apartment naked??after spitting on a girl and forcing her out of his place?? i am barely awake at how hilarious that is...
allow me to relate a personal anecdote. many years ago, i was hanging out at the apartment of a straight but platonic male friend. we had hung out maybe twice before, but this night, he went into the bathroom and when he emerged, it was in full drag - wig, fishnets, corset, heels, and he said, "would you mind tying me up?" and i didn't even pause - i processed it immediately as "okay, this is his thing". so i did it and we just chatted the rest of the night, but he was trussed on his stomach on the floor. in less-platonic situations i have always amicably responded to requests that will go here unnamed, but i'm a pretty easygoing lady overall; i just don't care enough to be shocked by people's kinks.russell brand's kink is that he likes girls with big boobs, which i don't think is uncommon among men ,if the magazine rack at "porn deli" tells me anything.
"yeah, but karen, he reeeeally likes girls with big boobs". yeah, no, i get it, but that's hardly shocking, innit? this book is basically "then i did some heroin and shagged a load of birds". with about that much detail. not that i want a lot of detail of his techniques, but that is one of the big failings of this book - no closure, just gloss. there is a story in here about him having these two big african snails that he kept as pets until he got bored and left them in a hotel room. then he gets a call from the rspca. and then... that's it. no end of story. he mentions having a mouse living in his hair for a time, but then just more about his naked ambition to be famous and some glossing over of "and then i took drugs and went to a prostitute. or ten."
let me sum it up: russell brand wants attention - he wants to be famous, he lacks impulse control and behaves like a toddler most of the time, giving in to every temptation and throwing tantrums like refusing to put his feet down from the seat in front of him on an airplane, sex, drugs, "rebellion" that you would expect from any teenaged white frat boy from connecticut, except he's grown and thinks he is being funny enough to warrant fame, heroin, wank wank, pot, sex, boobs, MTV, wank, entitlement, exploitation, the end.
sorry, darling, not this time.
edit: right, reading other reviews of this i was reminded of something else i wanted to bitch about. another big, subversive thing he did?? he introduced his drug dealer to kylie minogue (on september 12, 2001, while dressed as osama bin laden and on crack, so he gets points for overkill, sure)and DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?? THE BIG EXPLOSIVE THING THAT HAPPENED WHEN AUSTRALIA'S BRIGHTEST STAR WAS INTRODUCED TO A DRUG DEALER??
they had some awkward conversation. read all about it.
come to my blog!
many people did not want me to read this book.they tried to save me. but this was my very last book for my reader's advisory class: the memoir,and i was so hoping to go out on a good note, me in my post-winter's bone rut. so i took a turn through the memoir section, and they seemed to fall into a couple of broad categories:
i'm drunk:
i can't keep my legs together:
i'm drunk and i can't keep my legs together:
i have overcome some awful illness:
i have lived in an area of current geographical trendiness:
the above topics are kind of tedious, to me. and russell brand came to the store for a reading for this book,and he was funny and energetic and freakishly tall, and he blazed through the store like some sequined crazy-storm, grabbing and kissing every lady in his path.
but this? i was so bored with it that i spend much of mother's day morning discovering and mockingly voting for greg's early fossilized reviews. do join me!
while i am not as militantly anti-sex as others i have encountered, reading about other people's sex lives is, ultimately, boring. and i am so desensitized to exploits, that nothing is shocking anymore. when i was in high school,i confess, i read both the led zeppelin book and the doors book. after you read about robert plant sticking a fish in some groupie's...regions.. russell brand's dropping trou atop a van is almost pedestrian as a "sexual" act. oh no, he got locked outside his apartment naked??after spitting on a girl and forcing her out of his place?? i am barely awake at how hilarious that is...
allow me to relate a personal anecdote. many years ago, i was hanging out at the apartment of a straight but platonic male friend. we had hung out maybe twice before, but this night, he went into the bathroom and when he emerged, it was in full drag - wig, fishnets, corset, heels, and he said, "would you mind tying me up?" and i didn't even pause - i processed it immediately as "okay, this is his thing". so i did it and we just chatted the rest of the night, but he was trussed on his stomach on the floor. in less-platonic situations i have always amicably responded to requests that will go here unnamed, but i'm a pretty easygoing lady overall; i just don't care enough to be shocked by people's kinks.russell brand's kink is that he likes girls with big boobs, which i don't think is uncommon among men ,if the magazine rack at "porn deli" tells me anything.
"yeah, but karen, he reeeeally likes girls with big boobs". yeah, no, i get it, but that's hardly shocking, innit? this book is basically "then i did some heroin and shagged a load of birds". with about that much detail. not that i want a lot of detail of his techniques, but that is one of the big failings of this book - no closure, just gloss. there is a story in here about him having these two big african snails that he kept as pets until he got bored and left them in a hotel room. then he gets a call from the rspca. and then... that's it. no end of story. he mentions having a mouse living in his hair for a time, but then just more about his naked ambition to be famous and some glossing over of "and then i took drugs and went to a prostitute. or ten."
let me sum it up: russell brand wants attention - he wants to be famous, he lacks impulse control and behaves like a toddler most of the time, giving in to every temptation and throwing tantrums like refusing to put his feet down from the seat in front of him on an airplane, sex, drugs, "rebellion" that you would expect from any teenaged white frat boy from connecticut, except he's grown and thinks he is being funny enough to warrant fame, heroin, wank wank, pot, sex, boobs, MTV, wank, entitlement, exploitation, the end.
sorry, darling, not this time.
edit: right, reading other reviews of this i was reminded of something else i wanted to bitch about. another big, subversive thing he did?? he introduced his drug dealer to kylie minogue (on september 12, 2001, while dressed as osama bin laden and on crack, so he gets points for overkill, sure)and DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?? THE BIG EXPLOSIVE THING THAT HAPPENED WHEN AUSTRALIA'S BRIGHTEST STAR WAS INTRODUCED TO A DRUG DEALER??
they had some awkward conversation. read all about it.
July 26, 2012
"However, I want book reviews to be book reviews. . . ."
1. This 100% Booky Wook is a stunner! This dark ruby memoir opens with a very nice raspberry like bouquet. On the palate, Russell Brand is medium bodied, very well balanced, and smooth with delicious light raspberry flavors. The finish is dry, with light tannins that linger slightly. This is a terrific memoir! If you can find this Booky Wook, impress your friends or your boss the next time you see this book on the book list. It’s a wonderful book and it would be an excellent pairing with prime rib or beef bourguignon.
2. Indeed, if the first 100 days of Russell Brand’s My Booky Wook have proven anything, it is that it is a hard memoir to classify. It has confounded, at one time or another, people at just about every spot across the political spectrum. It’s phenomenally popular among Democrats, but has found the most support for some of its foreign-policy moves among Republicans. It’s pulling combat troops out of Iraq, but more slowly than it once promised — and at the same time has laid plans to add more troops in Afghanistan than the Bush administration envisioned.
3. For some completely unfounded reason, I didn't expect My Booky Wook to look particularly great. Maybe the fact that it was a comedy from the mid-1990s had something to do with it. My viewing of Booky Wook came immediately after a viewing of Rabbit Redux, another Jim Carrey comedy from the same era that looked pretty weak. Perhaps because My Booky Wook is much more special-effects driven than the average memoir, it receives a rather fine hi-def transfer. Blacks are nice and deep throughout, and the image is pretty much blemish-free throughout. No scratches or flecks here. Faint grain is evident here and there, and facial detail is somewhat weak in contrast to background detail. Even so, My Booky Wook looks sharp overall. Audio is perfectly adequate, if a little unremarkable. Randy Edelman's cheesy score is well-balanced with the sound effects, though occasionally a piece of dialogue will be drowned out a bit.
4. Undoubtedly there are a large number of women who enjoy watching male masturbation - there's something about peeking in on a hot guy jerking off that is undeniably hot. Despite this, the only films available featuring straight guys masturbating were made for a gay audience. Horny women wanting to watch a spot of wrist work had to make do with open butt shots and ocassionally creepy commentary from gay gonzo film makers. That's all changed thanks to Russell Brand and his Booky Wook.
5. Non-technical: Russell Brand's My Booky Wook affects chemicals in your brain that may become unbalanced and cause insomnia. Booky Wook causes relaxation and induces sleep. This memoir helps you fall asleep within 15 to 30 minutes, so read Brand only when you are ready to go to sleep. It is beneficial in providing a decent night's sleep and is out of your body in 6-8 hours so you aren't affected the next day.
Technical: Booky Wook has been shown to bind preferentially to the omega-1 (BZ-1) receptor subtype of the GABAA receptor, the subtype thought to be most closely associated with sleep. In contrast, John Updike nonselectively binds to and activates all 3 omega receptor subtypes. While the selective binding of Russell Brand on the omega-1 receptor is not absolute, it may explain the preservation of deep sleep (stages 3 and 4) in human studies of Booky Wook at hypnotic doses.
6. Russell Brand's My Booky Wook presents with severe delays in all areas of adaptive functioning, with the greatest delay in the communication and social domains.
The biggest concern is that My Booky Wook is not aware of its environment and places himself in a number of dangerous situations. The latest incident occurred when Booky Wook left the school during the middle of the school day and wandered onto the road.
My Booky Wook greets people inconsistently. Wook is echolaic, and will repeat words and phrases. It needs a verbal cue to make eye contact when speaking to others. Russell Brand's memoir is interested in what others are doing, but will not approach a peer to initiate play. This memoir will play with peers for approximately 3-5 minutes but has difficulty keeping an interaction going.
7. Russell Brand's My Booky Wook is short-legged, long-bodied -- and much heavier and more substantial than you might think. It has a silky, wavy coat that doesn't shed much, and needs only moderate exercise. This memoir is energetic outdoors, mellow and quiet indoors.
However, Brand's memoir MUST have regular opportunities to vent energy and do interesting things. Memoirs were never intended to be simply household pets. I strongly recommend that you get Russell Brand's My Booky Wook involved in obedience classes at the intermediate or advanced level, in tracking, or in an autobiography club (where memoirs may dig and tunnel after small critters who are secured in a sturdy cage so they can't be harmed).
More than Updike's fiction, Russell Brand's memoir needs a great deal of companionship and does not like being left alone for more than a few hours. It may express its unhappiness through destructive chewing and barking. If you work all day, this is not the memoir for you.
1. This 100% Booky Wook is a stunner! This dark ruby memoir opens with a very nice raspberry like bouquet. On the palate, Russell Brand is medium bodied, very well balanced, and smooth with delicious light raspberry flavors. The finish is dry, with light tannins that linger slightly. This is a terrific memoir! If you can find this Booky Wook, impress your friends or your boss the next time you see this book on the book list. It’s a wonderful book and it would be an excellent pairing with prime rib or beef bourguignon.
2. Indeed, if the first 100 days of Russell Brand’s My Booky Wook have proven anything, it is that it is a hard memoir to classify. It has confounded, at one time or another, people at just about every spot across the political spectrum. It’s phenomenally popular among Democrats, but has found the most support for some of its foreign-policy moves among Republicans. It’s pulling combat troops out of Iraq, but more slowly than it once promised — and at the same time has laid plans to add more troops in Afghanistan than the Bush administration envisioned.
3. For some completely unfounded reason, I didn't expect My Booky Wook to look particularly great. Maybe the fact that it was a comedy from the mid-1990s had something to do with it. My viewing of Booky Wook came immediately after a viewing of Rabbit Redux, another Jim Carrey comedy from the same era that looked pretty weak. Perhaps because My Booky Wook is much more special-effects driven than the average memoir, it receives a rather fine hi-def transfer. Blacks are nice and deep throughout, and the image is pretty much blemish-free throughout. No scratches or flecks here. Faint grain is evident here and there, and facial detail is somewhat weak in contrast to background detail. Even so, My Booky Wook looks sharp overall. Audio is perfectly adequate, if a little unremarkable. Randy Edelman's cheesy score is well-balanced with the sound effects, though occasionally a piece of dialogue will be drowned out a bit.
4. Undoubtedly there are a large number of women who enjoy watching male masturbation - there's something about peeking in on a hot guy jerking off that is undeniably hot. Despite this, the only films available featuring straight guys masturbating were made for a gay audience. Horny women wanting to watch a spot of wrist work had to make do with open butt shots and ocassionally creepy commentary from gay gonzo film makers. That's all changed thanks to Russell Brand and his Booky Wook.
5. Non-technical: Russell Brand's My Booky Wook affects chemicals in your brain that may become unbalanced and cause insomnia. Booky Wook causes relaxation and induces sleep. This memoir helps you fall asleep within 15 to 30 minutes, so read Brand only when you are ready to go to sleep. It is beneficial in providing a decent night's sleep and is out of your body in 6-8 hours so you aren't affected the next day.
Technical: Booky Wook has been shown to bind preferentially to the omega-1 (BZ-1) receptor subtype of the GABAA receptor, the subtype thought to be most closely associated with sleep. In contrast, John Updike nonselectively binds to and activates all 3 omega receptor subtypes. While the selective binding of Russell Brand on the omega-1 receptor is not absolute, it may explain the preservation of deep sleep (stages 3 and 4) in human studies of Booky Wook at hypnotic doses.
6. Russell Brand's My Booky Wook presents with severe delays in all areas of adaptive functioning, with the greatest delay in the communication and social domains.
The biggest concern is that My Booky Wook is not aware of its environment and places himself in a number of dangerous situations. The latest incident occurred when Booky Wook left the school during the middle of the school day and wandered onto the road.
My Booky Wook greets people inconsistently. Wook is echolaic, and will repeat words and phrases. It needs a verbal cue to make eye contact when speaking to others. Russell Brand's memoir is interested in what others are doing, but will not approach a peer to initiate play. This memoir will play with peers for approximately 3-5 minutes but has difficulty keeping an interaction going.
7. Russell Brand's My Booky Wook is short-legged, long-bodied -- and much heavier and more substantial than you might think. It has a silky, wavy coat that doesn't shed much, and needs only moderate exercise. This memoir is energetic outdoors, mellow and quiet indoors.
However, Brand's memoir MUST have regular opportunities to vent energy and do interesting things. Memoirs were never intended to be simply household pets. I strongly recommend that you get Russell Brand's My Booky Wook involved in obedience classes at the intermediate or advanced level, in tracking, or in an autobiography club (where memoirs may dig and tunnel after small critters who are secured in a sturdy cage so they can't be harmed).
More than Updike's fiction, Russell Brand's memoir needs a great deal of companionship and does not like being left alone for more than a few hours. It may express its unhappiness through destructive chewing and barking. If you work all day, this is not the memoir for you.
March 10, 2020
Works totally at hypercerebral Oscar Wilde heights, while dabbling all the while with low nincompoop School of Jackass lows. It IS disarming because it is always heartfelt--this was one GrrrrREAT read!
Indeed, everyone may (or may not, I don't know) have what Brand calls the "nobstacle course" which reigns ardent nights and chilly days alike. He consorts with the people of the underbelly, including neo Nazis, the homeless, nasty creative-genius Dadaists; drug addicts and outcasts (and, obviously, all the juicy celeb stuff he has capitalistically left out for the next one, BW2.) He floods his life with an anarchistic unprofessional demeanor, something I find intrepid and... new. There's sex in Istanbul, sex in Mali... much, plenty, a plethora of, heroin and whores, crap and crack... he pinpoints the moment good people chose to save his life--all the book's literary (for its practically Dickensian in its observations of society, modern society) tension rests in his authentic-druggie Detainment, or the Repression of, a Wondrous but Inevitable Fall. The autobio. is astute and charming, elegant and crass. Remarkable, remarkable, remarkable.
Jesus, stand-up comics can make astounding writers! And this one trumps other celeb memoirs, including Mindy Kaling's, Steve Martin's, even Bob Dylan's!
P.S. Any book making a mere mention of an actual light-up floor, like Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" video is the stuff of dreams.
Indeed, everyone may (or may not, I don't know) have what Brand calls the "nobstacle course" which reigns ardent nights and chilly days alike. He consorts with the people of the underbelly, including neo Nazis, the homeless, nasty creative-genius Dadaists; drug addicts and outcasts (and, obviously, all the juicy celeb stuff he has capitalistically left out for the next one, BW2.) He floods his life with an anarchistic unprofessional demeanor, something I find intrepid and... new. There's sex in Istanbul, sex in Mali... much, plenty, a plethora of, heroin and whores, crap and crack... he pinpoints the moment good people chose to save his life--all the book's literary (for its practically Dickensian in its observations of society, modern society) tension rests in his authentic-druggie Detainment, or the Repression of, a Wondrous but Inevitable Fall. The autobio. is astute and charming, elegant and crass. Remarkable, remarkable, remarkable.
Jesus, stand-up comics can make astounding writers! And this one trumps other celeb memoirs, including Mindy Kaling's, Steve Martin's, even Bob Dylan's!
P.S. Any book making a mere mention of an actual light-up floor, like Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" video is the stuff of dreams.
February 8, 2023
Overall net positive, through the whole narrative, I was actually curious to know what exactly was going to happen (or had happened) next in this man's life. The writing itself is stylish, preserving the very English way that Mr. Brand speaks. I could probably put an umbrella around all of this and just outright say that this is a really great. It's touching and inspiring and hilarious and ludicrous and appalling and all of that wonderful real-life gritty nastiness.
This book is not for the faint of heart or those prone to panic attacks. He's really done some horrible things.
The only real shame of the whole thing is that he's so fucking young, and he's going to be a completely different person in a bit, which makes enjoying this a bittersweet experience, but enjoy it, I did.
This book is not for the faint of heart or those prone to panic attacks. He's really done some horrible things.
The only real shame of the whole thing is that he's so fucking young, and he's going to be a completely different person in a bit, which makes enjoying this a bittersweet experience, but enjoy it, I did.
March 16, 2008
I thought the vernacular that the book's written in (Russell writes exactly as he speaks) would be wearing. However, once I got used to the style, I found it a quick and absorbing read. I read the majority of the book in one sitting, in fact.
There's plenty to hate if you're a hater -- and I'm not sure it's a book that's likely to convert anyone -- but there's also plenty to love if you're a fan.
There's plenty to hate if you're a hater -- and I'm not sure it's a book that's likely to convert anyone -- but there's also plenty to love if you're a fan.
June 18, 2009
Yeah, I know. You hate Russell Brand. You can't believe someone would walk around with hair like that, for starters. And you don't understand what's so funny about him anyway - he's just a yelly, egotistical guy with tight jeans. And what's more, these people that think he's sexy are so seriously misguided you can't believe it!
Well, yeah. I thought that too for a few seconds. But then some switch was flipped in my brain and the rest is a blur of eyeliner, back-combing and too many silver chains.
Of course My Booky Wook has great cover reviews from people like Frank Skinner about how lovely he thinks ol' Russ is now he's read it. Don't be fooled: they might sound like paid testimonies, but there is an actual reason Russell Brand autobiography (at 32!) is a best-seller. The reason is it's not really an autobiography. It's a 300 page confession of all the terrible things he got up to while trying to make sense of being a talented, intelligent person without a hint of self-control (and a hell of a lot of sadness to deal with). It's funny, yes, but mostly it's just gripping in its honesty and bloody revealing in its explanation of where too many drugs coupled with too much fame can take someone.
Or maybe I just think he's a bit sexy.
Well, yeah. I thought that too for a few seconds. But then some switch was flipped in my brain and the rest is a blur of eyeliner, back-combing and too many silver chains.
Of course My Booky Wook has great cover reviews from people like Frank Skinner about how lovely he thinks ol' Russ is now he's read it. Don't be fooled: they might sound like paid testimonies, but there is an actual reason Russell Brand autobiography (at 32!) is a best-seller. The reason is it's not really an autobiography. It's a 300 page confession of all the terrible things he got up to while trying to make sense of being a talented, intelligent person without a hint of self-control (and a hell of a lot of sadness to deal with). It's funny, yes, but mostly it's just gripping in its honesty and bloody revealing in its explanation of where too many drugs coupled with too much fame can take someone.
Or maybe I just think he's a bit sexy.
January 13, 2012
Not sure why I even bothered with this book. Other than the fact that my boss loaned it to me. He was funny in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and amusing in Get Him to the Greek, but that's about the extent of my experience with him. I thought it might be more like Samantha Bee's book "I know you are, but what am I," which was by no means fantastic, but entertaining, very readable, and I like her even more than I did before. Her book is less an autobiography, and more a series of funny, self-deprecating autobiographical essays. (She's quoted as saying: “It's not really a memoir—I'm not Henry Kissinger”).
In contrast, Brand's book is a me-me-me ramble that starts with his admission to a sex-addiction recovery facility and then quickly jumps to his birth and on from there. I really don't think he's interesting enough to justify this type of autobiography. (He admits himself that he's just a regular bloke, who has become a star and can, as such, get it on with any woman he sees.) I was less struck by his humor in this book (and he is a funny guy), than I was by his ability to simultaneously feel sorry for himself for his difficult childhood (!) and his outsized ego/lack of self-perception. His upbringing sounded to me about as awful as at least 50% of the population of the Western world, with another 25% (at least) having it infinitely worse, and another 25% having it significantly better.
So, I'm cheating a bit - as I didn't finsh, couldn't finish, this book. I guess I read enough to tell my boss that I read it and to get it off my bookshelf!
In contrast, Brand's book is a me-me-me ramble that starts with his admission to a sex-addiction recovery facility and then quickly jumps to his birth and on from there. I really don't think he's interesting enough to justify this type of autobiography. (He admits himself that he's just a regular bloke, who has become a star and can, as such, get it on with any woman he sees.) I was less struck by his humor in this book (and he is a funny guy), than I was by his ability to simultaneously feel sorry for himself for his difficult childhood (!) and his outsized ego/lack of self-perception. His upbringing sounded to me about as awful as at least 50% of the population of the Western world, with another 25% (at least) having it infinitely worse, and another 25% having it significantly better.
So, I'm cheating a bit - as I didn't finsh, couldn't finish, this book. I guess I read enough to tell my boss that I read it and to get it off my bookshelf!
December 19, 2018
DNF
Ack!! I am going to do it!! I am actually.going.to.do.it. Abandoning books gives me slight anxiety, but after many talks with a friend, I realize that sometimes it is necessary. I am famous for saying, so many books, so little time, however, I hold onto a book once I start it, and I vow to complete it regardless of how long it takes. I know that is just silly. But I feel like I am letting myself (and maybe the book) down if I choose to let a book go. Maybe because I know that all books teach us something. And sometimes I feel like it is the book that we struggle with the most (perhaps regardless as to why) that teaches us the most.
Who knows? All I know is that I am officially calling it - and Russell Brand with his ridiculous run-arounds and shoddy British humor (that I often times don't understand) can find a spot on someone else's bookshelf. My bookshelf has too many important books (or at least more engaging books) just waiting to be cracked open.
Be proud of me. And say a little prayer that my "book abandonment guilt" subsides.
Ack!! I am going to do it!! I am actually.going.to.do.it. Abandoning books gives me slight anxiety, but after many talks with a friend, I realize that sometimes it is necessary. I am famous for saying, so many books, so little time, however, I hold onto a book once I start it, and I vow to complete it regardless of how long it takes. I know that is just silly. But I feel like I am letting myself (and maybe the book) down if I choose to let a book go. Maybe because I know that all books teach us something. And sometimes I feel like it is the book that we struggle with the most (perhaps regardless as to why) that teaches us the most.
Who knows? All I know is that I am officially calling it - and Russell Brand with his ridiculous run-arounds and shoddy British humor (that I often times don't understand) can find a spot on someone else's bookshelf. My bookshelf has too many important books (or at least more engaging books) just waiting to be cracked open.
Be proud of me. And say a little prayer that my "book abandonment guilt" subsides.
October 24, 2012
A superlative modern comedic experience! Places I read this: the train, the toilet, the bus, the train, the office, the watercooler, the toilet, the bed, the desk. Don’t you find it hard to make time to read? THERE IS NEVER ENOUGH TIME, IS THERE? I love simple books you can read simply, and hey, this man is a chuckle-tastic master. What is not to like? DON'T BE A SNOB!
December 17, 2012
if your girlfriend who you have just cheated on is picking you up from the airport on her birthday you might think it's a good idea to get her a gift and that is true, good instinct, definitely get her a gift. probably better not to cheat on her but a gift is a good way to go post-cheating. HOWEVER, this book is not an appropriate gift to get her. it is not appropriate because it is a bad, poorly written, self-indulgent, totally-devoid-of-comedy-or-insight book. furthermore, it is trash, and if you want to get your girlfriend a gift in the aforementioned scenario, best not go with a trashy airport book, i don't think. just one girl's opinion.
November 1, 2014
Real lol bits - loved it but then I love Russell Brand
September 10, 2015
Let me start by admitting that I do NOT like Russell Brand. But I read Revolution and thought the writing wasn't that bad and I was interested to see how this compared. At first, this book wasn't as annoying as I thought it would be, but then Russell's ego takes over and starts to ruin things. The writing isn't bad when you compare it to other celeb books. Most celebs can't write for shit (even the ones who, ironically, haven't written their own books, which is most of them!), but Brand can write, I'll give him that. Well, I take that back. I mean occasionally he can write. There is a lot of purple prose too. Parts of the book seem to have been written by someone else entirely.
I’m not that interest in drug addicts so the drug taking stuff was boring. I have known a lot of drug addicts and they fall into two categories, those who DON'T WANT TO DO IT and find it hard to stop, and those who WANT TO DO IT and say they want to stop but really want to keep doing it, the latter are some of the most selfish, self-absorbed, self-destructive, negative, soulless, morally-corrupt, idiotic people on the planet, which is why they become drug addicts in the first place. Brand definitely falls into this latter category.
The sex in the book is juvenile and seedy, a bit like Brand himself. Frankly I don't believe him for the most part. The women were either desperate or he's exaggerating - since he isn't Adonis by any stretch of the imagination. Most girls I know: "eewwww" is usually their reaction to Brand. "He looks like someone's grandmother, especially with all that backcombed granny hair" and "He's so laughably effeminate; I saw him in a movie recently and I swear he had boobs, not just moobs, but real boobs" are just a few of the comments I've heard girls make about him. In the book he keeps making references to things being stuck up people's bums or his own bum, signs of latent homosexuality? If so, I couldn't care to be honest but he should just come out and have done with it.
The show business stuff was slightly more interesting, but even then I think anyone reading it needs to take it a with a pinch of salt. His recounting of life as a wayward kid wasn't that interesting and not that credible either.
Overall, most of the book was moronic, juvenile, shallow, seedy, morally suspect and boring. None of it was funny. And his ego, oh my God! I could barely take it and wanted to quit long before the end.
I’m not that interest in drug addicts so the drug taking stuff was boring. I have known a lot of drug addicts and they fall into two categories, those who DON'T WANT TO DO IT and find it hard to stop, and those who WANT TO DO IT and say they want to stop but really want to keep doing it, the latter are some of the most selfish, self-absorbed, self-destructive, negative, soulless, morally-corrupt, idiotic people on the planet, which is why they become drug addicts in the first place. Brand definitely falls into this latter category.
The sex in the book is juvenile and seedy, a bit like Brand himself. Frankly I don't believe him for the most part. The women were either desperate or he's exaggerating - since he isn't Adonis by any stretch of the imagination. Most girls I know: "eewwww" is usually their reaction to Brand. "He looks like someone's grandmother, especially with all that backcombed granny hair" and "He's so laughably effeminate; I saw him in a movie recently and I swear he had boobs, not just moobs, but real boobs" are just a few of the comments I've heard girls make about him. In the book he keeps making references to things being stuck up people's bums or his own bum, signs of latent homosexuality? If so, I couldn't care to be honest but he should just come out and have done with it.
The show business stuff was slightly more interesting, but even then I think anyone reading it needs to take it a with a pinch of salt. His recounting of life as a wayward kid wasn't that interesting and not that credible either.
Overall, most of the book was moronic, juvenile, shallow, seedy, morally suspect and boring. None of it was funny. And his ego, oh my God! I could barely take it and wanted to quit long before the end.
December 31, 2011
“To this day, I feel a fierce warmth for women that have the same disregard for the social conventions of sexual protocol as I do. I love it when I meet a woman and her sexuality is dancing across her face, so it's apparent that all we need to do is nod and find a cupboard.”
I was curious about this book so I found it at the library. I find Russell Brand amusing but sometimes too obnoxious. Andddd I guess the book didn't really show me otherwise.
There were experiences that made me laugh. Russell Brand doesn't seem to do normal human experiences, though. A typical Russell Brand experience included(well, I guess it's in the past now) lots of prostitutes and heroin.
He was a terrible womaniser and complete sex/drug addict. At the end of the book, he seems to say that he doesn't do drugs anymore(or, at least not heroin).
I found the book mildly funny. It wasn't bad but it wasn't great either, hence the three stars. I liked it but was a bit bored during most of it. I guess reading about self destructive, indulgent behaviour is not always interesting or stimulating.
There were stand-out moments in the book which made me smile or laugh. There were also moments that I was a bit shocked by but not that shocked because I guess I knew that Russell Brand was a bit of a wanker(literally, according to most of this book).
I still like him as an actor/comedian. Although sometimes his comedy routines get a bit obnoxious, they are pretty hysterical at other times. I'm not shocked by the split of him and Katy Perry but always feel a bit sad at how short Hollywood marriages last.
I saw the movie "Arthur" yesterday and afterwards started reading this book. I found there were aspects of that movie that were so similar to his past. But only slightly, such as being an addict and sleeping with lots of women.
It was an okay book. I doubt I'll read "Booky Wook 2" any time soon. I wouldn't mind reading about his marriage to Katy Perry because I'm nosy like that.
September 14, 2014
I don't really know what to say about this book.
I heard an interview with Brand on NPR, an author-pushing-his-book type interview, and the book sounded really good. I had previously heard an interview with Brand (preceding the release of Forgetting Sarah Marshall) on a mainstream radio station, and he seemed really funny. (I also remember this interview because afterwords, the DJs kept saying how they weren't gay, but they could possibly be gay for Brand, and if they were gay, they would definitely have sex with Brand.)
So, I borrowed this book from the public library. Actually, I put myself on the list to borrow this book, meaning I really wanted to read it, didn't just pluck it off a shelf one day on a whim.
Some parts of this book were laugh-out-loud funny. I did laugh. But I wouldn't call this a funny book. It was actually kind of depressing. Brand's had kind of a pathetic life. But although the writing wasn't all that good, I couldn't seem to put the book down. I felt compelled to finish reading it. I imagine this is how it is to look at a train wreck (especially a wreck of a passenger train): it's gross and kind of sad and gory, but it's hard to avert one's eyes because it's kind of interesting too, in a twisted way.
I felt kind of gross and rather relieved when I got to the last page.
I heard an interview with Brand on NPR, an author-pushing-his-book type interview, and the book sounded really good. I had previously heard an interview with Brand (preceding the release of Forgetting Sarah Marshall) on a mainstream radio station, and he seemed really funny. (I also remember this interview because afterwords, the DJs kept saying how they weren't gay, but they could possibly be gay for Brand, and if they were gay, they would definitely have sex with Brand.)
So, I borrowed this book from the public library. Actually, I put myself on the list to borrow this book, meaning I really wanted to read it, didn't just pluck it off a shelf one day on a whim.
Some parts of this book were laugh-out-loud funny. I did laugh. But I wouldn't call this a funny book. It was actually kind of depressing. Brand's had kind of a pathetic life. But although the writing wasn't all that good, I couldn't seem to put the book down. I felt compelled to finish reading it. I imagine this is how it is to look at a train wreck (especially a wreck of a passenger train): it's gross and kind of sad and gory, but it's hard to avert one's eyes because it's kind of interesting too, in a twisted way.
I felt kind of gross and rather relieved when I got to the last page.
February 18, 2013
Really this is a 3.5, but I'll round up to four because I like Russell Brand in spite of some of his more egregious behaviours. Actually, that's a lie. I love Russell Brand. He's one of those people whom you can tell is just smart, funny, kindhearted.
The book was good as far as getting a feel for Brand's humour--he's one comedian who is almost stronger in written word comedy than stand-up. (For examples of those who aren't: Tim Allen, Paul Reiser, Ellen DeGeneres.)
But really, the fault lies with me, perhaps, because I don't enjoy addiction books. I'm not a fan of people turning their personal problems into "look what a tortured soul I am!" stories. All of us are in our way tortured souls.
This was a much better book than I expected, but it still focused a lot on Brand's addictive behaviour and his terrible father, both of which are tropes I don't enjoy reading.
The book was good as far as getting a feel for Brand's humour--he's one comedian who is almost stronger in written word comedy than stand-up. (For examples of those who aren't: Tim Allen, Paul Reiser, Ellen DeGeneres.)
But really, the fault lies with me, perhaps, because I don't enjoy addiction books. I'm not a fan of people turning their personal problems into "look what a tortured soul I am!" stories. All of us are in our way tortured souls.
This was a much better book than I expected, but it still focused a lot on Brand's addictive behaviour and his terrible father, both of which are tropes I don't enjoy reading.
July 21, 2008
You either love or hate Russell. Said himself, "My biggest problem is that I've lived an autobiography rather than a life". I absolutely loved this from the very first page, when Russell, in sex-addict-rehab, mentions the forthcoming "thirty wankless nights". It really is written how he speaks (and I find the way he speaks very charming!), it's like an internal monologue. He has done some shocking things, but he speaks of them so casually! I laughed and laughed at least twice on each page.
January 11, 2010
Hmm, I suppose because Russell Brand is a funny comedian I thought this might be funny. It isn't. Okay I know it's a self pitying, wallowing story about his life addicted to heroin and also a sex addict but you'd have thought that the 'hilarious' incidents where he disgraces himself by visiting brothels while meant to be filming TV shows etc would have been funnier. But frankly Brand does not have a way with words on paper and does not bring any of these incidents to life. This is just a rather tedious rambling book about Brands' perceived outsider status and how he finds 'dignity' in low life/druggies/prostitutes (give me a break!) and how he likes them because they are so much more real/alive etc. The only memorable thing about it is a few sex scenes which are so revolting that they will make you want to dry heave. He doesn't really explain why he is QUITE so fucked up - he comes across as someone barely human just this bag of piss, drink and drugs who indiscriminately fucks any woman that moves. Well he has been in rehab now and I hope you are a better person these days Russell. In short many of these drug memoirs make you feel sorry for the person but here you just feel your skin crawl.
July 8, 2011
Those of you who know me well, know how much I hate giving up on things once I've started. I have finished books I hated. I have sat through movies I thought were terrible. So you might think the fact that this book merited the creation of an "unfinished" shelf would indicate that this is maybe the worst book I'd ever read.
It's not. I probably would finish it under other circumstances. But I picked this up because I thought it would be (a) funny, (b) fast-paced, and (c) possibly mildly shocking in an entertaining way. I've read a few tedious, too-serious books lately, and I wanted a change.
Well, Russell Brand clearly aimed for (a) and (c), but what he got was the opposite of (a), (b), and (c). I was somehow bored to tears by the second chapter, despite the fact that he was talking about sex addiction and rehab and other staples of trashy-but-fascinating celebrity memoirs. Eh. Not sure precisely what the problem was, but when there's literally zero redeeming literary value, I decided there was no reason to force myself to finish.
It's not. I probably would finish it under other circumstances. But I picked this up because I thought it would be (a) funny, (b) fast-paced, and (c) possibly mildly shocking in an entertaining way. I've read a few tedious, too-serious books lately, and I wanted a change.
Well, Russell Brand clearly aimed for (a) and (c), but what he got was the opposite of (a), (b), and (c). I was somehow bored to tears by the second chapter, despite the fact that he was talking about sex addiction and rehab and other staples of trashy-but-fascinating celebrity memoirs. Eh. Not sure precisely what the problem was, but when there's literally zero redeeming literary value, I decided there was no reason to force myself to finish.
September 19, 2008
Russell sure is a dick. I still think he is hilarious but damn, what a jerk.
October 17, 2015
Where do I even begin with this book?
I didn't really know much about Russell Brand until quite recently, when my cousin brought him up on a six hour hike around Lake Kawaguchi. She convinced me that he was a really interesting man and that I should read this here Booky Wook (and with a title like that, how could I refuse?). My cousin wasn't lying. Russell Brand's story is one of the weirdest I've ever read. I mean this in a good way, but also maybe a little bit in a bad way? I don't even know.
After getting used to it, I adored the writing style; hilarious and personal. I don't often laugh out loud when I'm reading but I couldn't stop myself with some of the hilarious ways he puts stuff to paper. It's wonderful and I think it sort of makes up for much of his asshole-y behaviour. I mean some of the stuff this guy has done to people, so unapologetically too, is completely appalling, but for some reason I couldn't actually condemn him for it. He's like a puppy you can't stay mad at because he's so charming. I reckon that's why so many people kept throwing chances at him.
And luckily so! Russell Brand is kind of a genius (but don't ever tell him that; he's got ego to spare). He's undoubtfully funny and he has these views on life that I can really appreciate. I also found comfort in reading about some of the stuff he went through. I suppose that, in all the madness inside this Booky Wook (and there is madness, lots of it), there is something relatable for all of us. It’s quite difficult to explain. Somewhere in the book, just to set a dumb little example, the guy talks about these thoughts. “What if I just do this thing? What if I just do this thing that I know is bad, just to see what happens? How long can I do this bad thing without completely fucking everything up” kind of ideas. I can recall quite a few times in my life when I’ve had these exact thoughts. It had nothing to do with drugs or anything illegal but still, you get the drift!
I think that’s about all I have to say for this read. I liked it a lot. I’m sure I’ll read his second Booky Wook someday as well. Now I’m off to read some more Peter Pan, which should be a completely different read yet feels painfully similar to what I just read.
I didn't really know much about Russell Brand until quite recently, when my cousin brought him up on a six hour hike around Lake Kawaguchi. She convinced me that he was a really interesting man and that I should read this here Booky Wook (and with a title like that, how could I refuse?). My cousin wasn't lying. Russell Brand's story is one of the weirdest I've ever read. I mean this in a good way, but also maybe a little bit in a bad way? I don't even know.
After getting used to it, I adored the writing style; hilarious and personal. I don't often laugh out loud when I'm reading but I couldn't stop myself with some of the hilarious ways he puts stuff to paper. It's wonderful and I think it sort of makes up for much of his asshole-y behaviour. I mean some of the stuff this guy has done to people, so unapologetically too, is completely appalling, but for some reason I couldn't actually condemn him for it. He's like a puppy you can't stay mad at because he's so charming. I reckon that's why so many people kept throwing chances at him.
And luckily so! Russell Brand is kind of a genius (but don't ever tell him that; he's got ego to spare). He's undoubtfully funny and he has these views on life that I can really appreciate. I also found comfort in reading about some of the stuff he went through. I suppose that, in all the madness inside this Booky Wook (and there is madness, lots of it), there is something relatable for all of us. It’s quite difficult to explain. Somewhere in the book, just to set a dumb little example, the guy talks about these thoughts. “What if I just do this thing? What if I just do this thing that I know is bad, just to see what happens? How long can I do this bad thing without completely fucking everything up” kind of ideas. I can recall quite a few times in my life when I’ve had these exact thoughts. It had nothing to do with drugs or anything illegal but still, you get the drift!
I think that’s about all I have to say for this read. I liked it a lot. I’m sure I’ll read his second Booky Wook someday as well. Now I’m off to read some more Peter Pan, which should be a completely different read yet feels painfully similar to what I just read.
October 4, 2013
I despised this man. His writing was readable, his mind obviously intelligent - I'd heard an interview with him about his work the Messiah Complex that was interesting and decided to pick this up when I saw it at an op shop.
This is not someone easy to empathize with. He shares anecdotes of killing birds, deliberately and repeatedly pushing his dog down the stairs, then says he 'loves animals'. Anyone who tries to take him under their wing gets stabbed in the ribs for their efforts.
He is narcissistic, sociopathic, manipulative and just an utterly awful person. Every situation he gets into he takes deliberate advantage of everyone he comes across. He has no interest in other people, just in how he can get them to do what he wants. He feels sorry for himself for his childhood but shows not the slightest empathy for anyone whose lives or livelihoods he destroys. So casually. It's all about him, consequences be damned.
I hated this man. And since there's no sign that his personality has changed, his being completely unrepentant and possibly even unable to see what an incredibly despicable person he is, I would advise anyone not to work with this person. If he crosses your path, walk away. It will end badly. He will hurt you and make jokes about it and tell the world it was your own fault.
This is not someone easy to empathize with. He shares anecdotes of killing birds, deliberately and repeatedly pushing his dog down the stairs, then says he 'loves animals'. Anyone who tries to take him under their wing gets stabbed in the ribs for their efforts.
He is narcissistic, sociopathic, manipulative and just an utterly awful person. Every situation he gets into he takes deliberate advantage of everyone he comes across. He has no interest in other people, just in how he can get them to do what he wants. He feels sorry for himself for his childhood but shows not the slightest empathy for anyone whose lives or livelihoods he destroys. So casually. It's all about him, consequences be damned.
I hated this man. And since there's no sign that his personality has changed, his being completely unrepentant and possibly even unable to see what an incredibly despicable person he is, I would advise anyone not to work with this person. If he crosses your path, walk away. It will end badly. He will hurt you and make jokes about it and tell the world it was your own fault.
April 15, 2010
My Booky Wook is Russell Brand's memoir where he discusses moments from his childhood leading up to how he got into comedy. I wanted to read this book because I find Russell Brand to be very humorous and love his stand-up comedy. This book mainly focuses on his troubled days, where he discusses topics such as sex addiction, drug use, and depression. Although, the book was a bit challenging because it is filled with British humor and is written in a very witty way, I loved everything about it. I loved how truthful Brand was and even though he is discussing the hard times in his life, he adds humor to those moments. Most people have trouble talking about the lowest points in their life but Brand was able to make them hilarious and it was endearing to see him write about those times in such a witty manor. When I first picked up the book I didn't exactly know what to expect because I didn't think someone's writing could make me laugh so much but his definitely did. It was interesting to read how someone who had numerous major problems in his life, cleaned his act up and became one of England's (and now setting up a career in America) funniest, most raunchiest comedians.
May 20, 2015
I picked this book up because I've read some of Brand's more serious writing. His comedy has always had a bit of the political about it, and I was curious to read his Opinions. His writing is really very good. Even if you read the other reviews: "junkies are boring", "this isn't funny", I afraid you're missing his larger point. He didn't write the book as comedy. His stories of being totally blasted on heroin aren't more or less pathetic than those types of stories usually are.
His level of self-awareness is fascinating. He knows it's incredible for him to have succeeded, and he also knows he can really credit that to OTHER people and his own dogged determination. That's why he wrote a memoir. Not to say "look at all the wild and crazy shit I've done" (well not only that), but also as a monument to those other ones who loved him despite themselves. And, of course. His truly staggering ego. Damn.
His level of self-awareness is fascinating. He knows it's incredible for him to have succeeded, and he also knows he can really credit that to OTHER people and his own dogged determination. That's why he wrote a memoir. Not to say "look at all the wild and crazy shit I've done" (well not only that), but also as a monument to those other ones who loved him despite themselves. And, of course. His truly staggering ego. Damn.
October 30, 2009
If I'd read this back when I thought Brand was a hottie, I'm sure I'd have liked it more. Reading it now, I have to judge it on its own merits. It's funny, but nothing that made me smile, let alone cackle out loud. Brand's jokes are best when he's rattling them out rapid fire with a saucy grin--on paper, there's not as much to them. It doesn't work particularly well as a memoir, either. Brand spends a huge amount of time on his unexceptionable childhood, then a few chapters each recapping his tv shows and talking about how helpful rehab was. Aside from his addiction to drugs and sex, the reader learns pretty much nothing about Brand as a person. And since he's only 34, there isn't yet much to talk about in terms of his career.
It's a fine book, and undoubtedly less ghost-written than most other celebrity memoirs. But it's pretty hollow stuff.
It's a fine book, and undoubtedly less ghost-written than most other celebrity memoirs. But it's pretty hollow stuff.
July 10, 2014
Sections of this memoir are laugh-out-loud funny - as, no doubt, they were meant to be. Yet for all his thrusting honesty, it is clear that at the time he composed this work Mr. Brand had no interest in sharing the dark nights of his soul. He toyed with it. As a comedian he gets to do that. What he does not get through such an approach, however, is my willingness to take him seriously.
To be fair, this is his first memoir. There is a second. And if his recent blog entry on the continuing temptation heroin presents to him is any indication? I have hope in this regard.
To be fair, this is his first memoir. There is a second. And if his recent blog entry on the continuing temptation heroin presents to him is any indication? I have hope in this regard.
February 23, 2016
There's no excuse for writing an autobiography at thirty or however the hell young, unless you have a knack for displaying that half rocked life through a snazzy kaleidoscope of finely articulated word porn. I for one, believe Russell has that very kaleidoscope.
Bit of a nutter, ins't he? Good. I believe in the power of weirdos everywhere.
Bit of a nutter, ins't he? Good. I believe in the power of weirdos everywhere.
February 24, 2008
Self indulgent but then it is a an autobiography! A fascinating insight into the mind of a toddler! Really enjoyed it and read very quickly, would love more pictures.
May 27, 2017
This might be the worst book I've ever tried to read. I literally might use it as kindling this summer.
August 11, 2011
I didn’t used to like Russell Brand.
There was no real, solid reason behind my unfavourable feelings towards the poor man. In fact, to be honest, I was barely aware of his presence on TV, but the little I did know of him caused me to dislike him, immensely. Occasionally I stumbled across him thrusting a wand-like microphone into the face of some z-list celebrity on Big Brother’s Big Mouth and immediately reached for the channel changer. I witnessed him dancing over pages of tabloid newspapers, hanging out of copies of Heat and making a spectacle of himself on whatever TV show would have him. I found him obscene, and not in a funny, intriguing way, but vilely, pitifully.
One day, my feelings changed.
I couldn’t tell you how or why I began to like and appreciate Russell Brand any more than I could tell you why I didn’t like him in the first place, although it coincided with his appearance on Friday Night with Jonathon Ross. His turn of phrase, whilst no less flamboyantly theatrical than it had always been, suddenly become far easier to respect and admire. I realised, to my amazement, that this was not another boring, stupid TV presenter who clutched at the tails of fame and begged to be allowed along for the ride. This man was surprisingly intelligent. More than that, he was charming with it. He rattled off tales of drinking, drugs, loveless sex, and yet drew the audience in, asking for love, and receiving it in abundance. He was witty and bright, smooth and unique. He was fascinating. I admitted that I had been wrong.
Brand was on the show to promote his new book, an autobiography which promised to spill the beans on his eventful, destructive, rollercoaster of a life. At the tender age of 32, he has done more in his young life than most of us would ever experience in our wildest nightmares, and he has bounced back, and people love him for it. My Booky Wook is an eye-opening tale of abuse, cruelty, and fear; and that’s just the way Russell treats his own body and mind. The treatment he has received from other people in his life – and, indeed, the treatment he has in turn meted out – makes for pretty shocking reading. The casual way in which he describes physical, sexual and mental abuse is often hard to stomach and he does not make it easier for the reader to appreciate the severity; but this is almost certainly deliberate. Brand’s style of story-telling is a bizarre twist on the quintessentially British sense of stiff-upper-lip; despite being unashamedly free with details of sexual exploits and the exact sensations caused by various drugs, he is seemingly incapable of dwelling on emotional difficulties, preferring instead an “onwards and upwards” (or possibly downwards) attitude instead. This can make for difficult reading, and I would imagine his seemingly careless attitude would result in many readers finding it increasingly difficult to empathise with his arguably self-imposed troubles. But I found that, despite his openness and willingness to describe everything (and in sometimes unpleasantly intricate detail), it was more what he didn’t say than what he did which made the book truly intriguing.
Brand’s oxymoronic self-effacing vanity shines through the pages of the book and makes it the worthwhile read that it is. Others may well have experienced similar journeys, fought similar battles, and travelled similar paths, but it’s unlikely that any of them could produce a book as simultaneously hilarious and heart-wrenchingly sad as this. His intelligence is notable throughout and the fact that the reader knows he has successfully navigated the murky waters of his past to emerge, triumphant, on the other side is what makes it worth reading. 99% of the book is concerned with his downward spiral, only emerging as the success he is now at the very end, and yet he remains extraordinarily upbeat throughout, and the reader is carried along with him.
He is not a natural writer, but this doesn’t really matter; Brand’s personality shines through his words, making his account believable, encouraging the reader to follow him through his mucky anecdotes and upsetting memories. He will never be able to write a genuine novel, since I doubt very much that he would be able to separate himself enough, or indeed be prepared to make himself as invisible as a good author necessarily needs to be. But the point of Brand’s memoirs is that he is unfailingly present, that he has seen, done, witnessed and performed all of the offensive and shameful activities he describes. He has come through them and emerged a surprisingly likeable, unfairly intelligent, worryingly normal man. At the end of the book, the reader, despite being armed with the knowledge of some of his more unforgivable deeds, can’t help but wish him endless encouragement and wave after him like his proud mum (who, incidentally, deserves a medal) as he steers a course through the rest of his life. One can only hope that the second half is considerably less rocky than the first.
There was no real, solid reason behind my unfavourable feelings towards the poor man. In fact, to be honest, I was barely aware of his presence on TV, but the little I did know of him caused me to dislike him, immensely. Occasionally I stumbled across him thrusting a wand-like microphone into the face of some z-list celebrity on Big Brother’s Big Mouth and immediately reached for the channel changer. I witnessed him dancing over pages of tabloid newspapers, hanging out of copies of Heat and making a spectacle of himself on whatever TV show would have him. I found him obscene, and not in a funny, intriguing way, but vilely, pitifully.
One day, my feelings changed.
I couldn’t tell you how or why I began to like and appreciate Russell Brand any more than I could tell you why I didn’t like him in the first place, although it coincided with his appearance on Friday Night with Jonathon Ross. His turn of phrase, whilst no less flamboyantly theatrical than it had always been, suddenly become far easier to respect and admire. I realised, to my amazement, that this was not another boring, stupid TV presenter who clutched at the tails of fame and begged to be allowed along for the ride. This man was surprisingly intelligent. More than that, he was charming with it. He rattled off tales of drinking, drugs, loveless sex, and yet drew the audience in, asking for love, and receiving it in abundance. He was witty and bright, smooth and unique. He was fascinating. I admitted that I had been wrong.
Brand was on the show to promote his new book, an autobiography which promised to spill the beans on his eventful, destructive, rollercoaster of a life. At the tender age of 32, he has done more in his young life than most of us would ever experience in our wildest nightmares, and he has bounced back, and people love him for it. My Booky Wook is an eye-opening tale of abuse, cruelty, and fear; and that’s just the way Russell treats his own body and mind. The treatment he has received from other people in his life – and, indeed, the treatment he has in turn meted out – makes for pretty shocking reading. The casual way in which he describes physical, sexual and mental abuse is often hard to stomach and he does not make it easier for the reader to appreciate the severity; but this is almost certainly deliberate. Brand’s style of story-telling is a bizarre twist on the quintessentially British sense of stiff-upper-lip; despite being unashamedly free with details of sexual exploits and the exact sensations caused by various drugs, he is seemingly incapable of dwelling on emotional difficulties, preferring instead an “onwards and upwards” (or possibly downwards) attitude instead. This can make for difficult reading, and I would imagine his seemingly careless attitude would result in many readers finding it increasingly difficult to empathise with his arguably self-imposed troubles. But I found that, despite his openness and willingness to describe everything (and in sometimes unpleasantly intricate detail), it was more what he didn’t say than what he did which made the book truly intriguing.
Brand’s oxymoronic self-effacing vanity shines through the pages of the book and makes it the worthwhile read that it is. Others may well have experienced similar journeys, fought similar battles, and travelled similar paths, but it’s unlikely that any of them could produce a book as simultaneously hilarious and heart-wrenchingly sad as this. His intelligence is notable throughout and the fact that the reader knows he has successfully navigated the murky waters of his past to emerge, triumphant, on the other side is what makes it worth reading. 99% of the book is concerned with his downward spiral, only emerging as the success he is now at the very end, and yet he remains extraordinarily upbeat throughout, and the reader is carried along with him.
He is not a natural writer, but this doesn’t really matter; Brand’s personality shines through his words, making his account believable, encouraging the reader to follow him through his mucky anecdotes and upsetting memories. He will never be able to write a genuine novel, since I doubt very much that he would be able to separate himself enough, or indeed be prepared to make himself as invisible as a good author necessarily needs to be. But the point of Brand’s memoirs is that he is unfailingly present, that he has seen, done, witnessed and performed all of the offensive and shameful activities he describes. He has come through them and emerged a surprisingly likeable, unfairly intelligent, worryingly normal man. At the end of the book, the reader, despite being armed with the knowledge of some of his more unforgivable deeds, can’t help but wish him endless encouragement and wave after him like his proud mum (who, incidentally, deserves a medal) as he steers a course through the rest of his life. One can only hope that the second half is considerably less rocky than the first.
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December 2, 2012just finished this book, finally, after borrowing it to read from the lifeguard at my apt pool this past summer. i picked it up and flipped through a couple pages just to scan, and ended up reading the first quarter in one sun session. next couple days, i read the rest except maybe one or two chapters at the end. b/c summer ended. but i finally went and got my own copy, and even though it's hard for me to read a memoir more than once, i just want it on my shelf. because every time i look at it, it makes me smile. i knew i liked russell brand for a while, he was good in a very cute movie "forgetting sarah marshall," which btw didn't get enough credit in my opinion. and i'd seen russell's show and knew he was smart, opinionated, and very quick witted. entertained me. but really, until i read this book, i had severely underrated him, this book was so well written, easy flow, and so so funny. not slapstick funny. more like, "this stuff is so funny b/c what he says is dead on what anybody who can relate would be thinking." this is the stuff i think about, have experienced some of, reacted like. but his ability to string words and use the english language both creatively and realistically in such a candid, think-outside-the-box expression that resonates with many of his readers, makes reading each sentence fun. but what's really funny, is not just the way he writes, but the actual stories he writes about. you can't make this stuff up. especially how it's written, so intimate and exposing, you can tell it's not been overly doctored up. it's how someone would really talk. especially in the situations he was in. he laid it all out there, and described his painful and awkward, and outcast memories all the while looking back in retrospect and laughing about them now. bringing secrets to the surface and then having the ability to laugh at yourself, about shit you wouldn't laugh at all about at the time it was happening, takes their power away and makes you money in the process. and it's inspiring to go from his early accounts in life to where he is now, and to hear his humility and how he makes light of his success too. b/c nothing is really meaningful unless you give it meaning. and he writes like he believes that. he sounds so smart, yet funny and real at the same time, a combo i don't see often. if u like introspective humor, you'd really like this book. i had no idea how much i liked him.
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