Note to self: Never read another Stephen Fry book on the Kindle - he uses so many footnotes that it just gets annoying switching back and forth, especially since my Kindle is the old style without a touch screen.
This book should have taken up where the last one left off, but does in fact start with a precis of his first two books of memoirs, which is OK if you read them a long while ago, like I did, but I can see it would annoy someone who had come directly from the previous book.
He then proceeds to talk about his cocaine addiction, opening up about a subject he hasn't discussed before, and the last third of the book is extracts from a diary Stephen kept in 1993, while he was writing his novel, The Hippopotamus.
I came to the conclusion that you have to be a real Stephen Fry fan to enjoy this book, the confessional is a bit contrived and the diary entries eventually get repetitive. Luckily there were just enough celebrity anecdotes included to keep me reading to the end.
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