Billy Connolly has, over the last six decades, unloaded an avalanche of intimate details about his private life. Such is our familiarity with the Big Yin’s saga, you’d be forgiven for thinking that he’s already written his memoir.
But no, that’s the Mandela Effect in action; Windswept & Interesting: My Autobiography is actually the first time he’s committed his entire life story to paper.
If you’re a Connolly fan, you’ll recognise many of the stories contained herein. Some of them are recounted verbatim from his stand-up routines.
However, and at the risk of sounding morbid, this is essentially Connolly’s final written testament: the ultimate account of his extraordinary life, recorded for posterity. The repetition is permissible.
And it’s not as if the book is entirely reheated. It’s peppered with anecdotes and details he’s never shared on stage or on chat shows before. His life is a seemingly infinite wellspring of incident, all of which he’s commendably frank and open about.
When discussing the abuse he suffered as a child, he’s matter of fact but never glib. Connolly writes movingly about the shame, anger and deep-seated sense of worthlessness he struggled with for years. That scared, vulnerable wee boy is still in there.
