Billy

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Billy Pub. Date: 11/25/2003 Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
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Billy (1ST) Pub. Date: 9/30/2002 Publisher: Overlook Press, The

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Billy (Large Type) Pub. Date: 1/28/2003 Publisher: Ulverscroft Large Print Books, Ltd.

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Billy Pub. Date: 1/1/2001 Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
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Audiobook

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Billy (MP3 - Abridged) Pub. Date: 3/23/2007 Publisher: HighBridge Company

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Billy (Cassette - Abridged) Pub. Date: 9/1/1902 Publisher: Penguin Group (USA)

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Billy (CD - Abridged, 3 CDs, 3.5 Hours) Pub. Date: 10/28/2002 Publisher: HighBridge Company

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Overview

Now a favorite of American audiences, Billy Connolly is the outrageous comedian whose unsurpassed comedy genius has won him countless fans. Billy, the revelatory, poignant, and wildly entertaining biography is written by the woman who knows him best-his wife. Billy is one of the biggest sellers of all time in British publishing-number one on UK bestseller lists and, so far, selling over 800,000(!) copies. Connolly is a one-of-a-kind legend: his effortlessly wicked whimsy has entranced and enthralled audiences around the world, and his manic humor needs no introduction. But who is the real Billy Connolly? Where did he come from and where does he get his material? What is it like to live with him?

With insight and objectivity, Pamela Stephenson, a psychologist and Billy's wife of ten years, takes us through the heartbreaking and hilarious life of a comic genius and what made him the man he is. The descriptions of Scottish life evoke the poignancy of the Ireland in Angela's Ashes as she tells of the troubled and desperately poor child in the docklands of Glasgow who became an accomplished banjo player and whose jokes soon took over his musical act. Billy Connolly became a household name. From live performances to appearances on television and in the movies, Billy has captivated audiences around the world with his notoriously bawdy humor and the remarkable range of performance that has made him not only a brilliant comic but a dramatic actor who played across from Dame Judi Dench in Mrs. Brown.

Filled with riotous anecdotes from Billy's shows and tales from his unhappy childhood, this is, undeniably, the real Billy Connolly: the Billy Connolly that an enormous and fanatic public is waiting for-and a moving, redemptive biography.

Editorial Reviews

Rochelle O'Gorman

Comedian and actor Billy Connolly (Mrs. Brown, White Oleander is the subject of this blandly written biography, a No. 1 bestseller in the U.K., penned by his wife. A clinical psychologist, Stephenson analyzes her contradictory husband and chronicles his impoverished childhood and rise to stardom. The author is a name-dropper who bores listeners with endless lists of famous people, including Mick Jagger and Frank Zappa, who admire her husband. Those not already enamored of Connolly probably won't enjoy the book.

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From The Critics

The most celebrated comedian in the U.K., Billy Connolly makes headlines and sells out arenas like a rock star. But he's barely cracked the recognition barrier here in the U.S.: the closest he's come to American fame is a one-year stint as the teacher in the 1980s sitcom Head of the Class. This book, written by the comedian's wife, tells the story of Connolly's life, beginning with an Angela's Ashes-esque childhood. Raised in Glasgow's slums, Connolly was abandoned by his mother, abused by his aunt and later by his father. His future fame as an outrageous, hard-drinking, banjo-playing, absurdly dressed hippie-comedian is constantly measured and contrasted against the poor sense of self that the author roots in his childhood. Former comedian Stephenson (she was a Saturday Night Live cast member in the mid-'80s) is now a psychologist and Connolly's most ardent fan. She fills the text with glowing anecdotes and humorous quotes, not to mention a large dollop of name-drops. The only real problem with this audiobook is Stephenson's gentle tone. Her soft voice tells Connolly's highly dramatic story in the quiet way that a mother may read a bedtime story, which is odd considering the wild and crazy behavior she describes. Based on the Overlook hardcover (Forecasts, July 1, 2002). (Oct.) Copyright 2003 Cahners Business Information.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780060537319
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date: 11/25/2003
Pages: 304
Product dimensions: 6.00 (w) x 9.00 (h) x 0.76 (d)

Meet the Author

Pamela Stephenson lives in Los Angeles but was born in New Zealand. Like her husband, Billy Connolly, Stephenson was originally a comedian, appearing in a variety of television shows including Saturday Night Live and had a starring role in Not the Nine O'Clock News.

First Chapter

Billy

Chapter One

'Jesus is Dead, And It's Your Fault!'

Billy Connolly, King of Comedy, Master of Mirth, Chancellor of Chortling, as his children have been instructed to address him, is quivering in the wings of the spectacularly cavernous Hammersmith Apollo theatre.

'Pamela, what the hell am I going to say to these people?'

Horrified, I turn to face him. Oh God, here we go ... he's not bluffing. Now there are two of us heading for a full-blown fight-or-flight fit. Is it possible that this time, the first in history, he might actually freeze, forget, stammer, storm off stage or batter someone? I do not fancy witnessing his death by four thousand excitable Londoners. They begin to roar as his name is announced, clapping in unison and stamping their feet. It's the start of tonight's war, the one he always declares then dreads.

'You'll be OK ... '

I watch him arm himself mentally with an opening shot. As usual, he'll take no prisoners. I'm a white-knuckled wimp when the enemy's battle cry reaches its pitch ... then suddenly he's off. A blinding circle of light assaults him and I see his face change to a fighting calm. 'Scot of the Anarchic' is stepping out fearlessly into the front line. He might be gone for quite some time.

The bastard's done it again. Frightened me to death, and he's going to win after all. I peer out into the centre of the fray and witness a beautiful armistice, achieved in the first few disarming sentences from his scowling, apologetic mouth. There is always such a peace for him out there in that spotlight, probably the only place he's truly happy. Each time, it seems he's given another chance, a chance he's driven endlessly to re-create; it's a chance to gain mastery, to triumph over -- he can almost see their faces out there in the audience -- Mamie, William, Mona, Rosie. I notice that tonight it is especially Rosie who must be slain as he launches into hilariously savage tales of algebra and abject humiliation.

He is strutting, striding, tilting at windmills. I'm thinking, how weird that he is so aroused, furious and vindictive, yet his face at times seems almost beatific. Swathed in disgustingly musty wing velvets, I peek out at the front row. As individuals, these are hardly soldiers: T-shirted people, they are settled in comfortably to be transported to places where petrol prices, the babysitter, the in-laws, are replaced by tyrants and tenement buildings, by little old ladies in fat, furry coats, and the ubiquitous, noisy farts. It will all end in tears and some very sore bellies. I can finally breathe. He is blessed; encircled most brightly not by forty thousand watts but by his own fiery, evangelical fuck-youness.

℘

Ironically, Billy's very earliest memory is one of being terrified by a circle of light. Until he was three years old, he and his beloved sister Florence slept in a curtained-off alcove in the kitchen. One evening she aimed a mirror reflection onto the wall, allowing it to pirouette and chase him until he screamed for mercy.

He had been born right next to that alcove on the kitchen floor, all eleven pounds of him plopping out onto freezing linoleum. The rage that followed this unceremonious introduction to the world has never left him, although it was a serendipitous launching for a future enemy of the bourgeoisie. For eight months he nestled in a wooden drawer with not one Fisher-Price contraption in sight.

His family's living arrangements were similar to those of thousands of other inhabitants of Glasgow, a city that had come to be defined by row upon row of late-nineteenth-century apartment buildings known as 'the tenements'. These fine architectural soldiers had originally been created by Glasgow's Improvement Trust, as model housing for working-class families. But by the time the Connollys moved into half of the third floor of 65 Dover Street in Anderston, many of them had deteriorated into rotting slums that would need more than a spot of paint to 'take the bad look off them', as Billy would say.

The classically derived elevations in red or yellow sandstone were usually pleasant enough, but the interiors were thoroughly depressing. A dingy central staircase, stinking of cabbage and cat piss, spiralled upwards to the flats. Two or more poky apartments were squeezed into each floor, usually with just two rooms apiece, and a communal lavatory out on the landing. Some families were lumbered with the 'coffin end', or corner apartment, which was even smaller than the rest.

The buildings themselves butted right onto the street and were usually entered via an interior alleyway known as a close. The 'Wally' closes, as some were called, were beautifully tiled halfway up the wall, with a leafy motif running along the top. Such finery, however, ended abruptly at the threshold of a darker, often treacherous, tunnel known as the 'dunny' (short for dungeon), that dead-ended in an enclosed rear courtyard, itself a veritable assault-course of broken bicycles, flapping knickers, and reeking middens.

Considering it now through a haze of nostalgia, Billy says the Glasgow tenement is a New York brownstone without a fire escape. Some of the buildings certainly had grandeur and, like their New York counterparts, are now sought after by the well-to-do. Billy's first home was not one of those. The Dover Street flat had only two rooms: a kitchen-living room, with a niche where the children slept, and another room for their parents. The entire family bathed in the kitchen sink and there was no hot water at all. As an enduring legacy of his early cramped existence, Billy is now quite uncomfortable in large living spaces. He sighs over the phone to me from fabulous hotels all over the world: 'They've gone and upgraded me again. Bloody Presidential Suite this time.'

I let him off lightly, because I know it's a genuine problem for him. Others who achieve renown cannot wait to sprawl sideways on a California King four-poster with a big-screen TV in every corner and a whirlpool on the deck, but not Billy. He has never really liked our Los Angeles house because of its unfamiliar spaciousness, and prefers to hide out in his tiny study for hours on end, drinking gallons of tea and plunking on his banjo.

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Anonymous

Posted February 2, 2003

Billy Connolly is a total genius

I had known about Billy Connolly from the TV show "Head Of The Class" and i also knew about his standup. What of course I didnt know was his triumph over early tragedies and his view of the world because of his early life. He is brilliant and one of a kind and the book is a wonderful read and makes you feel every bit of anguish, triumph, and eventually love for Billy. Read this book!!!!!!!!
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Billy

Overview

All Available Formats + Editions

Customers Who Bought This Also Bought

More About This Book

Overview

Related Subjects

Editorial Reviews

Rochelle O'Gorman

From The Critics

Product Details

Meet the Author

First Chapter

Chapter One

'Jesus is Dead, And It's Your Fault!'

Rating Distribution

Billy Connolly is a total genius