Truth is stranger than fiction! A cliche, I know, but applicable in this case.
I'm nosey! I like to know what makes people tick. This is probably one of the reasons - no, let's be honest, this is the reason - I bought Kenneth Williams' diaries. It certainly wasn't out of admiration for the man: I'd always found him annoying. Sure, I liked the 'Carry On' saga, of which Williams was an integral component but I ignored him and just enjoyed the others. That isn't to take anything away from his abilities as a comedy actor, I believe he did have superb timing and equisite delivery, which is why his memory is still cherished by millions around the world. It's just that he was always too nasal and vocally grating for me. I know, features of which are loved by others. But I couldn't resist the diaries. Did I feel any different after reading the 40+ years of journals? No, if anything I disliked him even more, but I did feel so very sorry for him. Such a lonely and emotionally barren man. I pitied him. I really did.
His upbringing was a typical working class affair, nothing out of the ordinary, well, apart from Williams himself. He started his first diary at around 15/16 years of age, recording:
"Christmas was as expected very quiet, without so many is seemed almost melancholy, and brushed over with false gaiety. . ."
. . .and so started a journal that would record Williams's innermost thoughts, both man and boy, up until his death in 1988.
Almost five decades of accelerating misery, loneliness, happiness and yet more misery are recorded. You see, KW was a dichotomy: an emotional extremist. He was either jubilant or morose - no in-between. One entry may record feeling of euphoria or joviality; the next oppressive doom and gloom, along with welcoming thoughts of suicide. This pattern becomes almost formulaic over the years and somewhat anticipated.
He affirms that a lot of this unhappiness was as a result of never finding love. A situation that unfortunately was never to change. The closest companion he had was his beloved mother, Louie. With her he demonstrates extreme kindness and dependency. Yet the thought of a permanent lover both excited and appalled him. Again demonstrating the duality of the man. A partner was what he most wanted, yet denied it to himself. There can be no doubt from reading his diaries that he was a homosexual yet even his own sexuality repulsed him.
This opposing philosophy continues in every aspect of his life: He both adored and loathed his fans. Cherished his mother, yet found her intrusive. Loved solitude, yet revelled in his celebrity. These characteristics remained constant throughout his life, perhaps even widening a little as he grew into middle age. The only things he appeared to find solace in was his love for literature and philosophy. His own writings in this vein do have some poignancy and talent, demonstrating depth that may not at first fit with his public persona. This affinity with the written word - and shown to full effect in the diaries - no doubt saved him from many a suicide attempt over the years, bringing him back from the brink of despair, perhaps more so than any friendships that he had cultivated over the years.
Even though he did have a huge circle of acquittances, the group of friends was not huge. If you intend to read the diaries for snippets of celebrity gossip, then you're going to be a little disappointed. Sure, there are entries besmirching some well-known faces but the threat of litigation has no doubt diluted the juicier snippets, if indeed they were there in the first place. Perhaps the alleged notoriety surrounding the contents of the diaries was souped-up a little in order to propel sales...
What the journals do contain though are the destructive thoughts of a man intent on dying, increasing with ferocity when he was diagnosed with a gastric ulcer that kept him in constant pain for the 2 years preceding his death. The 2 years where his beloved Louie was becoming increasingly frail and placing extra demands on him. But he just didn't have the strength or inclination to fight. His last entry in the diary of 14 April 1988 states:
"By 6.30 pain in the back was pulsating as it's never done before. . .so this, plus the stomach trouble combines to torture me - oh - what's the bloody point?"
He was found dead by his 87 year old mother the following day. His death was reported in the weekend broad sheets as due to natural causes (www.britishcomedy.org.uk/kwas/obit.htm).
Whatever the real cause of Kenneth Williams' death, it must surely have been a release to the self enforced torture that he found in simple day-to-day living. His diaries do not contain more than a touch of the rambunctious character that can be found in his screen presence and of which is still loved by his many fans, rather they detail an enveloping blackness of doom. His loneliness was overwhelming and all pervading and relays the life of a man that shone in public in such celebrated classics as 'Just a minute' and 'Round the Horne' - simply crackling with vitality - only to fade again as the cameras were switched off. A territorially private individual that hated his isolation but needed it just as much in order to nourish the despair it created - a gripping dichotomy that reflected the polar opposites that is and was the man Mr Kenneth Charlie Williams.
22 February 1926 - 15 April 1988.
No doubt this talented performer will continue to be mourned by many. . . ISBN 0-00-638090-5 (Harper Collins)
£12.99
Evaluate this review
How helpful would this review be to someone making a buying decision? Rating guidelines
