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It is the middle of the Swinging Sixties, and Clive James doesn't have much to show for it. May Week Was In June is the third hilarious, tender instalment of memoir from the iconic author, poet and broadcaster.
'Nobody writes like Clive James' – Spectator
Arriving at Cambridge University in a cold October in 1964, the young Clive James has yet to find a footing in the literary world. His move from Sydney and three years of hand-to-mouth existence in London has produced nothing but a handful of unpublished poems. Pembroke College Cambridge offers a way out, if not up . . .
Ignoring the curriculum, he throws himself into writing songs, performing and film reviewing. “If something was irrelevant, I could do it.” He takes Footlights to the Edinburgh Fringe, writes for the New Stateman and works on Expresso Drongo, arguably the worst film ever screened at the NFT . He finds a lifelong passion in criticism, continues his poetry, falls in love with Italian art and eventually, in May Week, he marries. These are the years that formed the man Clive James – told with his trademark erudition and humour.
May Week Was In June is the third book of memoir from Clive James. Continue his story with North Face of Soho.
