Morrissey autobiography quotes
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Discovering and re-discovering Autobiography
| My bend in half copies notice Autobiography |
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| Monsieur Sartre |
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The 25 Most Morrissey-y Quotes in the Morrissey Autobiography
On the other side of the Atlantic, today saw the publication of the first memoir by one of the music world’s most beloved, reviled, iconic, and controversial figures of the past three decades, in the shape of Morrissey’s Autobiography. As both the front man of the Smiths and a still-thriving solo artist, Steven Patrick Morrissey has never shied away from speaking his mind, but the book provides the most unfiltered look inside the legendary musician’s head to date.
Originally due to be published last month, the release was briefly cancelled after a fallout between the singer and Penguin Books, only to get back on track (albeit with Morrissey’s insistence that it be published as a Penguin Classic, a label normally reserved for more traditionally canonical authors). There are currently no plans for the book to be published in the U.S., but Vulture’s overseas correspondent got his hands on a copy earlier today.
And it seems to be fair to say that the book is exactly what you’d hope for and expect from a memoir by Morrissey: witty, honest, navel-gazing, indulgent, erudite, beautifully observed, infuriating, catty, occasionally moving, and almost entirely lacking in self-awareness. But who would have wanted anything
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Autobiography Quotes
“The written word is an attempt at completeness when there is no one impatiently awaiting you in a dimly lit bedroom--awaiting your tales of the day, as the healing hands of someone who knew turn to you and touch you, and you lose yourself so completely in another that you are momentarily delivered from yourself. Whispering across the pillow comes a kind voice that might tell you how to get out of certain difficulties, from someone who might mercifully detach you from your complications. When there is no matching of lives, and we live on a strict diet of the self, the most intimate bond can be with the words that we write:
Oh often have I washed and dressed
And what's to show for all my pain?
Let me lie abed and rest:
Ten thousand times I've done my best
And all's to do again.
I ask myself if there is an irresponsible aspect in relaying thoughts of pain as inspiration, and I wonder whether Housman actually infected the sensitives further, and pulled them back into additional darkness. Surely it is true that everything in the imagination seems worse then it actually is--especially when one is alone and horizontal (in bed, as in the coffin). Housman was always alone--thinking himself to death, with no matronly wife to signal to the watching world