James' death was a blow: he epitomises the academic with an earthly touch. He is self-deprecating and, in retrospect only, self-aware.I laughed aloud at the first in this trilogy but the second was sobering. Here was a deluded man struggling to find his place in the world and in his craft. How did he emerge from this phase to be the brilliant man we know now?He recaptures England after the war and the move of Australian artists to what they thought was the centre of culture and ideas. We feel hi...

Clive James is a joy to read.

Thirty-something years ago I read Clive James' Unreliable Memoirs. It was one of the funniest books I had ever read, and also one of the most truthful about the universal experience of childhood and early adolescence. Quite why it has taken me so long to read the second book in the series is a mystery.Falling Towards England starts with James arriving at Southampton and covers the next couple of years drifting from job to job and room to bedsit to room in London while he waits to take up a place...

I read his hilarious prequel - Unreliable Memoirs, some years ago and loved it (especially the bit about the 'dunny man'). This picks up the story of Clive's emigration to England in search of a literary career, and all the trials and tribulations he encounters with acommodation, interviews and girls - not to mention the 'Singapore Suit'!

Second reading - the first being back in metaphorical 'short pants'. Enjoyed this a great deal more than the first. More of the development of the character we all know and love, although it does seem to get a little self-indulgent towards the end.Love the man... sorely missed. Hope he says hello to DNA for me.

I read this first about twenty years ago, about the time of the paperback release. The reason I’ve read it now is down to an overnight stay in hospital and, following advice and not wanting to risk any valuables being lost whilst I lay unconscious, I picked this book - yes, a real book - from the very front and middle of the shelf closest to eye-level, and stuffed it in the overnight bag. Of course, this wasn’t the only reason for selection: I simply thought it would be something I could dip int...

Like reading an early day, more erudite if more pompous and alcoholic, David Sedaris. The early 60's are James post university (Sydney) pre-graduate (Cambridge) years. He spends them in London mostly broke, mostly drunk, and mostly not getting much if looking a lot... Just as I began to tire of the whining a real humanity would shine through. I wanted to shout at him the read some science: geology, biology, engineering anything but this his muddle of music, poetry, art and politicks would have b...

The second in the Unreliable Memoirs set of books sees Clive James newly arrived in post-war England, a Sydney boy trying to make good in the bright lights, high(er) society and learned sets of English society. Don't read this, however, if you're expecting the really breezy, cleverly observant, self-deprecating ways of his childhood. Young adult Clive James is a different beast and he's out of place, out of step and seemingly somewhat out of clues in this world.Moving from self-deprecation clear...

I read this out of indulgence: I had ordered it, it had arrived, it beat not reading it. I read this out of sequence as this was the second book in the series but arrived second to the last one. It is second in my preference to the last one as well. It might be because I'm in a grumpy mood or it might be the subject matter: the first and third Unreliable Memoirs were more entertaining and written with more of James' signature flair. It could also be that the topic of being young, drunk, broke an...

It was a sad day when Clive James shuffled off his mortal coil last year. For those of us who appreciate his mighty wit and general good spirits we are lucky to have such a large body of work to treat ourselves to almost unending chuckles and outright laughter. This, his second volume of autobiography, begins with his arrival in England from Australia in the early 1960s and follows his desperate attempts to keep down a job, find somewhere to live and begin his immersion into a life to be mostly

Read this very quickly, as part of a sudden ambition to devour all 5 of CJ's memoirs in order. This second book is pleasingly short and breezy, and covers his time as a twentysomething living in rented rooms in London in the 1960s, drifting aimlessly between minimum wage jobs until he decides to Sort His Life Out and go to Cambridge for a second degree. 'For the lost soul, the university is the modern monastery' - I certainly related to that, having returned to education in my forties.I was slig...

hilarious and although i was not part of that scene in the swinging sixties ( just too young) i can remember talk of it well and looking in from the outside it seemed so glamorous byt as james now shows me i wasnt missing much after all. He just makes it all come to life with his inimitable way ot expressing himself. I can almost hear him telling it to me as i read it since i used to gravitate towards any show which had his name on it for obvious reasons, i found him incisive, insightful and hil...

I don't think Clive James made as much of a splash in the US as he did in the UK, where he had a show on the BBC and on various radio programs, but he's quite funny. I picked this book up when we lived in Cambridge, England after seeing him on the Beeb. For some reason I've always considered him to be the Australian equivalent of Calvin Trillin -- which is fair to neither Trillin or James, but they're both witty men of a certain age, prone to droll one-liners.

The Aussies call us whingeing Poms, but Clive James does enough whingeing of his own at the beginning of this, the second volume of his memoirs, as he disembarks at Southampton on his way to fame and fortune in London, like many of his fellow countrymen. Ohhh the weather's cold! Ohhhh, snow's wet! Ohhhh, what's this brown water? (Beer, in case you can't guess!) Ohhh, why won't the girls go to bed with me? Well, boo bloody hoo! He soon settles into his usual laconic writing style as he relates ge...

This is the first book I've read by Clive James. It was enough for me to decide it's really Clive James you read, not this particular book, and he's brilliant. He's also an awesome example of what brilliant really means: not somehow extremely technically intelligent, the way you might describe an Einstein or a Bohr, but rather dazzlingly clever, sparkling, and bright. His story in Falling Towards England is fun, but any couple of pages could be read on their own with enjoyment, and it's really h...

Very funny and particularly interesting read about life in London in the sixties.

Book 2 of Clive James's memoirs. I have recommended this to so many people in the past because, back then, I found it hilarious. Sadly, this time around (many years later) I found it difficult to accept the blatant sexism and egotism. Clive James is usually self-deprecating in the later telling but that doesn't negate the way he behaved at the time. As with Book 1, I wish I'd not re-read this as I loved it when I first read it. On another level though, I found it fascinating as a bit of English

Outrageously funny sequel of Unreliable Memoirs. It makes fun of the author, England in the 1960’s and the adventures of the Australian diaspora in London at the time.

Clive James' memoir about being a young, struggling writer who moves to London on a whim in search of literary greatness is everything that's wonderful about Clive James. Its recollection and attention to detail is worthy of awe, especially considering this took place in the late '60s. You know that saying, "If you can remember the 60s, you weren't really there?" Clive James remembers, which is impressive at he wasn't exactly tee-totalling. James' memoir isn't perfect, don't get me wrong. He adh...

I bought this volume, and I suspect I'm not alone here, on the strength of Unreliable Memoirs. That book I devoured with relish. The stories of growing up were finely observed and often hilarious. In this follow up they are haphazard and filled with so many ill-defined characters and changing locations it's difficult to keep up. More worryingly the stories are, for the most part, just not very interesting.James' tone of phrase is still good and if you imagine the book being read to you in his un...