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Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins: The Autobiography ハードカバー – 2007/1/18
英語版
Rupert Everett
(著)
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購入オプションとあわせ買い
Revealing himself to be a consummate storyteller, stage and screen star Everett ("My Best Friend's Wedding") pens a delightfully witty memoir in which he reveals his life experiences as an up-and-coming actor, detailing everything from the eccentricities of the British upper class to the madness of Hollywood.
- 本の長さ416ページ
- 言語英語
- 出版社Grand Central Publishing
- 発売日2007/1/18
- 寸法15.88 x 3.49 x 23.5 cm
- ISBN-100446579637
- ISBN-13978-0446579636
登録情報
- 出版社 : Grand Central Publishing (2007/1/18)
- 発売日 : 2007/1/18
- 言語 : 英語
- ハードカバー : 416ページ
- ISBN-10 : 0446579637
- ISBN-13 : 978-0446579636
- 寸法 : 15.88 x 3.49 x 23.5 cm
- Amazon 売れ筋ランキング: - 1,058,821位洋書 (洋書の売れ筋ランキングを見る)
- - 51,611位Biographies & Memoirs (洋書)
- カスタマーレビュー:
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他の国からのトップレビュー
Susana
5つ星のうち3.0
Bien escrito
2023年3月26日にスペインでレビュー済みAmazonで購入
El libro está bien escrito. La historia es bastante interesante, a veces divertida, a veces triste. No le doy más estrellas porque no suelo inclinarme por las autobiografías y, al no ser mi género favorito, tampoco puedo decir que me haya entusiasmado.
John Prendiville
5つ星のうち5.0
Superlativo!
2022年4月14日にイタリアでレビュー済みAmazonで購入
Divertentissimo e scritto divinamente ( lo ho letto in lingua originale). Mi è piaciuto tanto.
Dodo
5つ星のうち5.0
Gekürzte Fassung als Hörbuch, gelesen vom Autor selbst
2015年5月31日にドイツでレビュー済みAmazonで購入
Und Rupert Everett hat echt eine tolle Stimme und eine glasklare Aussprache, alle Achtung. Außerdem finde ich ganz persönlich, dass die Kürzungen der Autobiographie gut taten, die sich im Original oft in Abschweifungen verliert, so dass ich manchmal schwer inhaltlich folgen konnte (der rote Faden ging mir verloren). Hier erzählt Everett weitgehend chronologisch seine Lebensgeschichte bis Ende der 1990er, orientiert sich dabei an gut gewählten Anekdoten und besonderen Ereignissen.
Besonders spannend fand ich, seinen Lebensweg mit dem Stephen Frys zu vergleichen, die beide grob in eine Generation gehören und beide kurz hintereinander ihre Autobiographien schrieben. Während Fry durch seine hohe Intelligenz und damit verbundene Neigung zum Hadern oft in depressive Phasen verfiel und sich selbst und andere ungewollt schädigte, umarmt Everett gelassen seine Duchschnittlichkeit und bleibt durch alle Schwierigkeiten seiner Jugend ein selbstzufriedener Mensch, der sich immer wieder durchzuschlängeln versteht, aber durchaus zielgerichtet vorgeht. So ist auch sein späteres gutes Aussehen durchaus das Ergebnis einer Arbeit an sich selbst (Fitnesstraining und Kosmetik).
Um noch einen Vergleich zu stellen: Everetts Stil ist weniger "blumig" als Frys, der Humor trockener und sarkastischer, statt kultureller Anspielungen liebt Everett amüsante Vergleiche und Beschreibungen.
Besonders spannend fand ich, seinen Lebensweg mit dem Stephen Frys zu vergleichen, die beide grob in eine Generation gehören und beide kurz hintereinander ihre Autobiographien schrieben. Während Fry durch seine hohe Intelligenz und damit verbundene Neigung zum Hadern oft in depressive Phasen verfiel und sich selbst und andere ungewollt schädigte, umarmt Everett gelassen seine Duchschnittlichkeit und bleibt durch alle Schwierigkeiten seiner Jugend ein selbstzufriedener Mensch, der sich immer wieder durchzuschlängeln versteht, aber durchaus zielgerichtet vorgeht. So ist auch sein späteres gutes Aussehen durchaus das Ergebnis einer Arbeit an sich selbst (Fitnesstraining und Kosmetik).
Um noch einen Vergleich zu stellen: Everetts Stil ist weniger "blumig" als Frys, der Humor trockener und sarkastischer, statt kultureller Anspielungen liebt Everett amüsante Vergleiche und Beschreibungen.
david price
5つ星のうち3.0
Three Stars
2015年5月24日にオーストラリアでレビュー済みAmazonで購入
Enjoyable and well written. Became a bit of a mere narrative some three quarters if the way through though.
The 4th Duke of Chandos
5つ星のうち5.0
Narcissism on the edge
2006年10月23日に英国でレビュー済みAmazonで購入
Being about the same age as the author, I started out on this depressed at the thought he had had the most remarkably exciting life and met all sorts of remarkable people. As I progressed I changed my views and decided I was overjoyed at the comparative ordinariness of my life - Everett comes over as a preening poppinjay on the cutting edge of narcissism, a merciless harpie who lands on people and places and drains them dry before scuttling off to drain some other reservoir of what passes for goodwill in the thespian world of greasepaint and footlights.
Everett doesn't come across as likeable. He's a melodramatic and posturing egotist with moments of absurd petulance coupled with occasional moments of sensitive and subtle insights. You won't be able to put this book down. His life seems to have been an endless cavalcade of Catholicism, cocaine, suicides, drama queens, fashion victims and creepy weirdoes all of who seem to inhabit a world made up only of the West End, Paris, the South of France and Los Angeles, with occasional forays into the wilderness beyond. Everett pursues his acting career by being pushy, selfish and fantastically insensitive.
The whole thing is conducted against the ghastly background of the 1980s and 90s and its sartorial horrors - a kind of utterly aimless and futile existence during which he moves from one 'inseparable' friend to another, leaving ruin behind him. Desperate, truly desperate.
Some of his pen portraits are brilliant, like the moment when he was knocked aside by a pack of photographers snapping away at the young Lady Diana Spencer just after the news of her liaison with Prince Charles had been made public. And then there's the picture he paints of Orson Welles in his last months, desperately clinging on to a doomed film project: a leviathan all washed up.
It's exceedingly well written and for those of us lucky enough to have more mundane existences it's an utterly compelling window on another way of life. Everett has produced a brilliant memoir of a world where over-bloated egoes collide and career around in a lonely vacuum floating in an endless void.
Everett doesn't come across as likeable. He's a melodramatic and posturing egotist with moments of absurd petulance coupled with occasional moments of sensitive and subtle insights. You won't be able to put this book down. His life seems to have been an endless cavalcade of Catholicism, cocaine, suicides, drama queens, fashion victims and creepy weirdoes all of who seem to inhabit a world made up only of the West End, Paris, the South of France and Los Angeles, with occasional forays into the wilderness beyond. Everett pursues his acting career by being pushy, selfish and fantastically insensitive.
The whole thing is conducted against the ghastly background of the 1980s and 90s and its sartorial horrors - a kind of utterly aimless and futile existence during which he moves from one 'inseparable' friend to another, leaving ruin behind him. Desperate, truly desperate.
Some of his pen portraits are brilliant, like the moment when he was knocked aside by a pack of photographers snapping away at the young Lady Diana Spencer just after the news of her liaison with Prince Charles had been made public. And then there's the picture he paints of Orson Welles in his last months, desperately clinging on to a doomed film project: a leviathan all washed up.
It's exceedingly well written and for those of us lucky enough to have more mundane existences it's an utterly compelling window on another way of life. Everett has produced a brilliant memoir of a world where over-bloated egoes collide and career around in a lonely vacuum floating in an endless void.