MORRISSEY : AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Autobiography is a book by the British singer-songwriter Morrissey, published in October 2013. It was published under the Penguin Classics imprint. It was a number one best-seller in the UK and received polarised reviews, with certain reviewers hailing it as brilliant writing and others decrying it as overwrought and self-indulgent. Morrissey mentioned that he had begun work on his autobiography in a radio interview in 2002. An extract from Autobiography titled "The Bleak Moor Lies" was published in 2009 as part of The Dark Monarch: Magic & Modernity in British Art, a compendium published by Tate St Ives art gallery. The extract tells the story of Morrissey and a few companions seeing what they believed to be a ghost near the Yorkshire village of Marsden in 1989. In 2011, Morrissey said in an interview that he had completed the book and was looking for a publisher. He expressed interest having the book published as a Penguin Classic. A few days before the book's apparently scheduled, but unannounced, release on 16 September 2013, Morrissey issued a statement explaining that a content dispute with Penguin Books meant that publication would be delayed and that he was seeking a new publisher. The book's subsequent European release, on 17 October 2013, caused controversy as it was published under the Penguin Classics imprint, normally reserved for highly esteemed deceased authors. On the day of the book's publication, Morrissey undertook a signing session in Gothenburg, with some fans queuing up to 30 hours in advance. The book was published in the United States on 3 December 2013 by G. P. Putnam's Sons. An audiobook, read by David Morrissey (no relation), was released on 5 December 2013.

Review (Uncut) : There are many revelations in Morrissey’s Autobiography, but perhaps the most unexpected arrives on page 194. “While in Denver,” writes Morrissey, “Johnny [Marr] and I attend a concert by A-ha, whom we have met previously and whom we quite like.” In the weeks leading up to the release – at last! – of Autobiography, we have been bracing ourselves for possibility that he would – or more depressingly, wouldn’t – divulge many truths. About his sexuality, his relationship with his former Smiths bandmates, what he thinks of Bowie… Nothing, however, appeared to prepare us for the comprehensive nature of Morrissey’s disclosures in Autobiography. Look – here he is, turning down parts in EastEnders and Friends, contemplating fatherhood, being detained by Special Branch, telling us that he represented his school in the 100 and 400 metres. And some stuff about a guy called Jake. As Dylan’s Chronicles or Neil Young’s Waging Heavy Peace have shown, it is possible for a musician writing an autobiography to successfully bypass niggly, pedantic details such as chronology, index and facts. Despite personally having little interest in great swathes of his solo career, the rock autobiography that’s given me most pleasure in the last few years has been Rod Stewart’s – simply because it satisfied the requirements of conventional storytelling. One concern was that Morrissey might also ‘do a Dylan’ and opt for a strategy of obfuscation: ignore The Smiths, write round some other quite important things, spend a lot of time going into forensic detail about the recording of, say, Southpaw Grammar. Instead, what we have here is a very traditionally structured book that moves at a satisfying pace through Morrissey’s life and times, from his birth in “forgotten Victorian knife-plunging Manchester” up to December, 2011, with our hero about to leave Chicago after a rapturously received gig at the Congress Theater. At 457 pages, that works out at just over 8½ pages for every one of Morrissey’s 52 years. Though, of course, some years are bigger than others. My overriding impression of Autobiography is the vividness of the detail. The bell that announces the end of the school day sounds at 3.40. With his Smiths advance from Rough Trade, he pays off a “lavish domestic phone bill of £80”. Ahead of their first Top Of The Pops appearance, the band are erroneously billed in The Sun as ‘Dismiss’. And so it goes. Such precise memories suggests Morrissey has been so profoundly affected by events that they have remained crystal-clear in his mind. Or perhaps he is a diligent archivist, with boxes full of clippings, cuttings and such ephemera. The book is littered with references and quotes from correspondence he’s received: among the most affecting are a letter from Johnny Marr after the Smiths split and a postcard from Kirsty MacColl that he receives weeks after her death. The opening pages offer a fairly typical scene-setting: “Birds abstain from song in post-war industrial Manchester,” he writes, “where the 1960s will not swing, and where the locals are the opposite of worldly.” I’m reminded of Keith Richards’ Life, with its “landscapes of rubble, half a street’s disappeared… I couldn’t buy a bag of sweets until 1954”, a default setting for this kind of book. But Morrissey describes his childhood with a poet’s eye: “we are finely tailored flesh – good looking Irish trawling the slums of Moss Side and Hulme.” His descriptions of Manchester’s working class districts are profound and poetic; the passages that cover the depravations suffered by his own family often heartbreaking. The relocation of Nannie, his maternal grandmother “from Queen’s Square to a condemned house at 10 Trafalgar Square” captures the monstrous treatment of the working classes during the slum clearances. “Our lives are flattened before our eyes – as if the local council couldn’t wait a minute longer for we pack rats to gather our trappings and transistors.” The opening sections of the book also detail his schooldays. His inquiry into the cruel discipline dished out by a headmaster (“What job did he think he was doing? And… for whom?”) or the sado-sexual behaviour of his PE teachers offers an insight into “the secret agony of a troubled child”. As he remarks, with a weight of sadness, “This is the Manchester school system of the 1960s, where sadness is habit forming.” This sadness dogs Morrissey for years to come. His first gig is T.Rex at the Belle Vue on June 16, 1972, then Bowie – “every inch the eighth dimension”– at the Stretford Hardrock in September, Roxy Music two months later, where Morrissey speaks to Andy MacKay who’s pinball in the venue’s lobby. New York Dolls, Mott The Hoople, Lou Reed all follow. His prose captures the thrill of these formative musical encounters – a defining time in the life of the 12 year-old author. Roxy Music are “Agatha Christie queer,” he writes. It’s brilliant stuff. Johnny Marr arrives on page 145. As Morrissey points out, they had met previously – “in the foyer of the Ardwick Apollo” at a Patti Smith gig. “I am shaken when I hear Johnny play guitar, because he is quite obviously gifted and almost unnaturally multi-talented.” In case you were wondering – and you probably are – Morrissey is extremely generous to Marr in the book – even after the Smiths’ split, when his emotional response to Marr veers from confusion to sadness. The Smiths section lasts 77 pages, from page 147 – 224; a good chunk – 16%, in fact – for what is essentially five years of his life. What, then, do we learn about the Smiths? That Mike Joyce drum kit was called “Elsie”, that Mick Jagger came to see them live in New York and left after four songs, that Craig Gannon was “a fascinating bungle”. While writing about their time together, Morrissey is positive about his bandmates – with the exception of Gannon, who is hilarious dismissed with a typical flourish: “nothing useful vibrates in Craig’s upper storey”. Morrissey writes fondly about “signature Smiths’ powerhouse full-tilt”, or pauses during describing The Queen Is Dead sessions to comment admiringly that “Johnny is in the full vigour of his greatness”. Morrissey’s ire is directed – during the passages on the Smiths, at least – towards Geoff Travis, head of Rough Trade, who describes “How Soon Is Now?” as “just noise”. In fact, Morrissey is at his funniest when rounding on a slight, real or perhaps imagined. His first TV appearance finds him in the Green Room with George Best, before he is (in his opinion) rather rudely interviewed by Henry Kelly, “a little, pinched Irish madam… wearing a suit that looked better on the hanger.” Meanwhile, “local newshound” Anthony Wilson is another frequent target, a man who “assumed the cocogniscenti cloak and found himself blessed with the need to assess, judge and grade – like a war general plastered with rows of ribbons but who had never actually seen battle”. He is spectacularly catty about Sandie Shaw, referred to here as “the Duchess of Cumberland Place” or “the Dagenhall Doll”. David Bowie “feeds on the blood of living mammals”. The Smiths’ early success sees Morrissey taking up residence in Hornton Court in Kensington, where he receives visitors, some more welcome than others. Vanessa Redgrave arrives, “then goes on about social injustice in Namibia, and how we must all build a raft by late afternoon – preferably out of coconut matting.” Ann West and Winifred Johnson, whose children Lesley Ann and Keith were among the children abducted and killed by Ian Brady and Myra Hindley also pay a visit, and Morrissey responds warmly and with understandable sympathy. Later, he tells us why he elected to be known professionally by his surname – “Only classical composers were known by their surnames, which suited by mudlark temperament quite nicely” – and that Marr gave him his most famous nickname, after the press started referring him as ‘miserable’: “Johnny putters with ‘misery’ and playfully arrives at ‘misery Mozzery’, which truncates to Moz, and I am classified ever after.” Such japes and camaraderie – and the closeness Morrissey conspicuously felt to his bandmates – are thrown into some kind of relief towards the end of the section on the Smiths. Looking back, he writes, “At the hour of the Smiths birth, I had felt at the physical and emotional end of life. I had lost the ability to communicate and had been claimed by emotional oblivion.” Hang on. And then: “I became too despondent for anyone to cope with, and only my mother would take to me in understanding tones. Yet their comes a point where the suicidalist must shut it down if only in order to save face, otherwise you become a nightclub act minus the nightclub.” It’s an astonishing revelation: is Morrissey saying the Smiths saved him from suicide? Elswhere, the first American tour finds a dejected Morrissey in pre-gentrified Times Square, in “a quagmire of midnight cowboys and sterile cuckoos” while he becomes convinced that “the other three Smiths are taking steps to oust me”. At one point, Morrissey writes that he and Travis became locked in litigation of Hatful Of Hollow, which delays the release of The Queen Is Dead by nine months. The end comes almost without fanfare, following the sessions for the Strangeways, Here We Come. “It happened as quickly and as unemotionally as this sentence took to describe it.” With the Smiths over, you could be forgiven for thinking that Morrissey’s solo career – and his domestic life – would perhaps take centre stage. Alas, no. The 1996 court case, in which Mike Joyce claimed his 25%, occupies 40 pages. It is inevitably the saddest, angriest and most bitter part of the book; a far cry from the withering put-downs and dismissals dished out to Travis, Wilson, the Manchester Evening News or whoever else has crossed him. Morrissey reserves particular venom for presiding judge Weeks, “a bent little man with big eyes in a small face, an unfortunate vision that even his personal wealth cannot save.” Morrissey’s 2013 has been an extraordinary year, but for entirely the wrong reasons. He should have spent it celebrating 25 years as a solo artist – perhaps with a new album and maybe a deluxe edition box set collecting together his many solo hits. Instead, he has been blighted by health scares and cancelled tours. The will it/won’t it fuss surrounding the publication of Autobiography only seemed to suggest that Morrissey’s career was heading further off the rails. But then comes this: the book we (mostly) wanted it to be. It may not quite scale the lofty heights of David Niven’s deathless The Moon’s A Balloon – surely the benchmark for any aspiring autobiographer. And yet… Is there an audiobook for this, and will Morrissey read it? I’d pay again for that. Autobiography is sharply written, rich, clever, rancorous, puffed-up, tender, catty, windy, poetic, and frequently very, very funny. Welcome back, Morrissey.

Review (Pop Dose) : So the enigmatic former frontman for The Smiths – and solo star for a quarter century – finally gave in and wrote his “tell all” autobiography. And in truth, to this reader, it was anti-climatic. Now, it has to be said that I have never been one of the devoted to either The Smiths or to Morrissey. I like both in very small doses, so I’m able to look at this with some objectivity. And I’m not a curiosity seeker, either. So I can sum it up easily and say “interesting but a little too Dickensian” for me. It’s prose-laden and filled with the same kind of lyrical hyperbole that many of his song lyrics are comprised of – and it should be pointed out that he does quote from himself a few times. The simplest description would be that this book is written in the manner of the notorious British “kitchen sink drama” – bleak and dark times; a pall of misery that hangs over everyone and everything and you can almost taste his bitterness and disdain for everyone and everything around him. Don’t get me wrong – it’s warmly funny in places and he’s especially complimentary towards ex-Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr. The low point of the book, however, is the unnecessarily long dissection of the lawsuit that found Morrissey and Marr pitted against The Smiths’ rhythm section, Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke. Too much time is spent in detailing Morrissey’s not-too-kind opinion of the judge and too many almost-adolescent swipes at Messrs. Joyce and Rourke. I did, however, appreciate his matter-of-factness concerning his (seemingly) two most serious relationships; I was beginning to feel like there was too much of a disconnect and not enough of the human being coming out. Until Morrissey became a bit more “personal”, this autobiography started to feel like a reporter’s work and not the author’s own story. In all, it’s an easy read, but it doesn’t give great insight into the man himself. However, for someone who has tried to remain so (famously) private, this does, at the least, offer a glimpse.

Review (Indiependent) : Steven Patrick Morrissey, otherwise known simply as Morrissey, has had a career lasting for almost 40 years. He has established himself as one of music’s greatest lyrical poets, both as part of ‘The Smiths’ and as a solo artist, and is quoted all over the world. Morrissey is accompanied by legions of fans consisting of pretty much every age group, and has been awarded such titles as ‘The Greatest Northern Male Ever,’ also coming in at a close second to David Attenborough in being named the Greatest British Living Icon. Morrissey has now tried his hand at writing his self-titled autobiography, published with the accolade of being a Penguin Classic – very much deservingly so. The memoir documents his life from being born in 1959 within the turbulence of Manchester to the dizzying heights of success he reached and maintained until the present day. Before reading this book I hadn’t really known much about Morrissey himself – being a fan of The Smiths and his solo music I had known the basics, such as his animal rights campaigning, his lyrics and his general nihilism towards people and the world – but his autobiography is definitely honest and reveals much more about the illusive character, giving a side to his story that perhaps has never been heard before. His poetic prose throughout unveils his writing talent and sets it apart from other autobiographies: let’s just say it is in no way comparable to any of Katie Price’s literal expeditions. “My childhood is streets upon streets upon streets upon streets. Streets to define you and streets to confine you, with no sign of motorway, freeway or highway.” The book begins with his recollection of his childhood in Manchester, which he makes no secret to hide his loathing of – particularly through his battering of the education system and its teachers, describing how his headmaster: “[rumbled] with grumpiness in a rambling stew of hate. He [was] martyred by his position and [was] ruled by his apparent loathing of children.” His hatred of education and the people who provided it along with his feelings of being stuck in Manchester were made better by his reverence of musicians at the time – the idolisation he had was soon replicated in the relationship of his own fans and himself. He speaks of influences by David Bowie, Patti Smith, The New York Dolls (cmtrading), Sex Pistols, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, the list goes on. The book also documents The Smith’s journey, from Morrissey and Marr initially to their added members and their eventual signing to Rough Trade – of which Morrissey very much likes to point out they should NEVER have signed to. Moments like meeting Mick Jagger, cracking America and at last their own free reign on their music are all touched upon, making The Smiths’ legal trial more than 10 years after their break up, which Morrissey bitterly recalls as even more tragic; the injustice and betrayal being made all too clear. Throughout he monotonously speaks of his tendency to dislike people as soon as he meets them and for people verging on misanthropy, his disdain his amusing, one of my favourite quotes being “ I have attempted a second joke, which must be like trying to strangle two people at once.” Although some have thought the autobiography is an attempt by Morrissey to justify himself and argue against accusations made over the years (his digs towards NME are practically revengeful), he does so in beautiful prose filled with memories of amazing people and incredible achievements all still with the signature Morrissey anarchy, but with a surprisingly happy outlook on how his life has turned out.

Title : Autobiography

Author : Morrissey

Language : English

Publisher : Penguin Books

Publication Date : October 17, 2013

Print Length : 480 pages