Customer Reviews

Will This Do?

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

There's something almost irresistible about the memoirs of a child of Evelyn Waugh, and there's much pleasure to be had in the first half of the autobiography. Auberon Waugh's dealings with his splenetic, conservative father--among the posh country houses of his family and their relatives--makes the stuff of a fine story, and Waugh brings great ironic humor to the table. Unfortunately, Auberon's own literary career is much less interesting, and concerns mainly petty squabbles and encounters with figures who are only of passing interest today: it's hard to get very worked up one way or the other, for instance, about Claire Tomalin's libel suit against him.

Waugh's humor (like his father's) is not to everyone's tastes, but if you find his snobbish summaries and appreciations for the bizarre droll (as I do), you'll enjoy yourself very much. He is very much aware of his snobbism, as well as his father's, and his self-deprecating awareness of both men's failing is greatly appreciated, and makes the entire matter much easier to take.

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The death of Auberon Waugh in January 2001 marks the end of an era. Auberon and his father Evelyn were masters of the English language. Together they perfected the use of ironic wit.

"Will this Do?" is much more than an autobiography. It is an encapsulation of an era and a culture. His work covers that incredible period of British history (1960 - 1980) where the "old order" Establishment, with its upper class "born to rule" social structures were overthrown.

In that period political satire became part of popular culture. Witness the rise of "smart" young men like David Frost and the circle of comedians that arose from the Cambridge Footlights. The weekly newspaper "Private Eye" was one of the most influential outlets for Auberon Waugh where he wrote a column for many years. The "Eye" did more for exposing political and social scandal in Britain than any other forum.

Waugh's membership of both the "upper" class and influential, activist intellectual circles put he him in a unique position to observe and comment on the quirks and absurdities of his Britain.

Occasionally he was overtly a political activist. The most prominent example was his very public support of the Biafran cause in the Nigerian Civil War in the early 1970s. This put him at loggerheads with the British government.

In Waugh's biography his ironic tone is pervasive. Even those readers who know his work well, will at times struggle to figure out whether he is joking, serious or merely "going over the top".

Auberon's humour didn't travel too well across the Atlantic. He found American's far "too earnest", who take his words too literally. However the gulf in styles of humour between the Anglo and the American world must have been closed to some degree thanks to Waugh's writing.

Waugh's influence on the world of wine was huge. For many years he wrote a wine column in the English "Spectator". In the early 1980's he "discovered" New World (Australian and Californian) wine. Although the Spectator at that time had a subscription base of only 14,000, it was hugely influential. The cellars of the House of Lords were probably restocked on the advice of Waugh. When you look at the exponential growth of New World wine exports since that time we may have a perfect example of viral marketing, thanks to one man's words in an obscure journal.

Many people who are not familiar with the style and wit of Waugh may find his writing pompous and haughty. It is well worth persisting though. He was probably the first writer to do a demolition job on Political Correctness. His favourite targets were the self-righteous. If they happened to be humourless as well (a strong correlation?) they would get both barrels from Waugh.

The influence of both Evelyn and Auberon Waugh will be felt for many years. Any body who loves the English language should read Auberon's autobiography. His work is the ideal example of that old aphorism " The Pen is Mightier than the Sword".

The recollections of Waugh are particularly funny when he describes his childhood up through his service in the army in Cyprus. After that, you have to be a student the British literary establishment and a confirmed anglophile to follow and tolerate all his comings and goings and shameless name-dropping. The first half of the memoir, though, more than justifies the investment. Waugh is a very funny man. Droll is the best way to describe his humor. Or "withering."

I enjoyed the book a great deal. It is a series of interconnected vignettes, which almost encourages the reader to open the book on any page and start reading (certainly my preferred technique for reading this book). Funny, yet with a lingering sadness, written in a prose style that is precise while being still extraordinarily natural and carefree. I am not sure everyone will like the book, but those who do will tend to love it.

Auberon Waugh paints a tragicomic portrait of life as the scion of a literary giant who manages to do a thing or two of importance and artistic merit in spite of himself.

Perhaps if you grew up in England or knew something about many of the obscure people he mentions and the country houses (Mansions is more like it), I don't know any houses that look like these even of well off friends, you might find it interesting. Much of the material is included in a much better book by his son Alexander Waugh, Fathers and Sons: The Autobiography of a Family. Reading this book at least prepared me with some of the background that Auberon Waugh goes into. I would strongly suggest reading Alexander Waugh's book and skipping Auberon's. His snobbery is boring and after all his real claim to fame is being the son of Evelyn Waugh also snobbish but something that is part of his persona and also something that is not as extreme.

Waugh was not only the best journalist of his generation, but also the funniest to boot. This book is a glorious romp through a life which added greatly to the gaiety of a nation.

If you have ever lived amongst the literary or monied class of England, this book is a bittersweet retrospective, a tattle-tale, and an apology all in one. If you haven't, then it seems to be a pompous, overblown biography of a rather ordinary life of a rather unordinary aristocrat. Waugh tells tales of his youth, adolescence, and adult life as best as sees fits, which is to say he writes what he wants you to know, and HOW he wants you to know it. It is, at every turn, witty and funny, and worthy of reading for those reasons alone. For those of you who don't know, Waugh edits the Literary Review magazine, which is available in most English speaking countries, including better parts of the United States.

I have not received it yet, so my review is the vendor did a poor job in mailing it.

Mr. Waugh, has written a review of all of the people he knows, who we don't, and all of the country houses and villas that he has been to, that we haven't. The book has virtually no style or content of interest. (How we miss his father!) The book makes the blurbs on the dust jacket the funniest part of this investment, and of course they were written by others (seemingly) but probably by Mr. Waugh himself.