Arrogant, fiercely intelligent, verbose practically to the point of self-parody - yes. But has Will Self ever really come across as likeable? I'm sceptical.
But that's just one reason why his interview with Gyles Brandreth on the Rosebud podcast is well worth watching. Whither the dour, acid man of letters and the former enfant terrible? Self is warm, relaxed, funny and the possessor of an unexpectedly manic laugh.
Even as recently as April, he was telling Observer journalist and friend Sean O'Hagan: "I am the Millwall of English literature - nobody likes me and I don't care". O'Hagan's article alerted me to the alarming extent of Self's serious and debilitating health issues, which began with blood cancer and now include myelofibrosis, which means he has a 20 per cent chance of dying in the next two years. However, O'Hagan reported Self being in surprisingly good spirits - and the conversation with Brandreth suggests that, confronted so brutally with his own mortality and in a marriage to a wife he clearly worships, Self has finally found contentment.
Self's comment about being as unlikeable as Millwall came as he was recounting the loss of long-term friends over his ex-wife Deborah Orr's accusations of "mental cruelty". O'Hagan didn't push him hard on those, indulging some self-pitying reflections instead, and it's fair to say that the Rosebud interview may well have painted him in a harsher light had Brandreth raised the subject.
As it is, though, Self is engaging and candid in talking about his extraordinary childhood and university days, and his parents in particular, but also about the lowest points of his addictions, the infamous drug-taking incident on Prime Minister John Major's plane, the impact of his illnesses and the nature of satire. For anyone like myself who wondered how Self ever ended up as a team captain on Shooting Stars, the answer is surprisingly simple: he and Jim Moir were Groucho drinking buddies, one evening a sozzled Moir issued an invitation to appear on the show, and an equally sozzled Self duly accepted.
I've always been more enamoured with Self's non-fiction than with his novels, but this conversation has convinced me to persist - starting with Umbrella, which is already sitting on the bookshelf unread.
A final word on Brandreth. For someone renowned as a knitwear-wearing buffoon drunk on the sound of his own voice (not always unentertainingly, admittedly), he remains commendably restrained throughout, gently nudging where necessary but never interrupting, giving his guest the time and space to speak openly and at length. Other episodes of Rosebud may well be worthy of investigation.
No comments:
Post a Comment