My Booky Wook

Written by comedic actor and stand-up artist, Russell Brand, My Booky Wook tells of the early stages and misdemeanours of the star’s life and career. 

The flamboyant and stylishly eccentric dandy Russell Brand lived his life as though performing in a Victorian vaudeville. But his ascent to stardom has not been an easy or smooth journey. He has had to battle through a troubled childhood in Essex and addictions to drink, drugs, and sex that found him drying out in institutions and rehabilitation clinics all over the world. This flamboyant, frank, and brutally honest memoir charts the peaks and the troughs of Russell’s thorny rise to fame, introducing the audience to the man behind the hair. 

I suppose, in order to really like an autobiography, you have to really love the person you’re reading about. Don’t get me wrong, I do like Russell Brand, he has a presence and is the type of person who catches the eye because he is different (a noble and sadly disappearing trait in modern society). But to be brutally honest, I only bought his book to keep myself amused on a flight home from Melbourne (one on which I had forgotten to bring the book I was reading at the time). Of course, after starting the book, it would have killed me no to finish it sooner rather than later (I cannot stand starting something and than not finishing it) so, after finishing The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, Harry Potter 7, and A Christmas Carol, I endeavoured to sit down and finish reading My Booky Wook. 

What is nice about the book is the way that it is written. It uses casual language and is very frank and down to earth. It actually feels as though you are talking to the man and he is relaying all this information and these stories to you personally. 

The book also kept my attention because it mentioned, sampled and quoted other works, some cultural and some more tragic and modern. References to Star Wars, Spike Milligan, Black Adder, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and snippets of poetry sneak into the text, giving it a sense of realism and making you feel that you can relate. 

The book also harbours pictures and photocopies of documents that played a key role in Russell’s ascent to stardom, because, in this day and age, people respond more to photographic evidence and visual stimuli. It’s sad but true. 

A brutally frank memoir filled with sometimes graphic stories of prostitutes, homelessness, drink, drugs, abuse, self harm, and sexual escapades, My Booky Wook was an interesting read, though not one that I would really rave about. It’s very simple to read, using casual language with the occasional big word thrown it to add a dash of sophistication and culture, but it really isn’t anything spectacular. Only read it if you’re a big Brand fan.