Pedigree Curmudgeon ; He Was the Maestro of Misery with a Genius for Making Us Happy. But Sir Clement's Family Was Riven by Feuds That Would Have Defied Freudian Analysis
Linked as:
Summary
OVER LUNCH at the Daylesford Cafe in London's Notting Hill, a month short of his 85th birthday, Sir Clement Freud was discussing his epitaph. He'd originally wanted 'I told you I was ill', but lamented, his features droopier than ever, that he'd been beaten to that by Spike Milligan.
He had now settled on 'Best before ...' followed by the date of his death. Highly appropriate, he thought, for a former chef as himself so associated with food. 'He was on such good form,' says a friend who was lunching with him. Crackling, curmudgeonly form, indeed, even sending back the pork belly, after tapping it judiciously with his fork, because its crackling wasn't crispy enough.See the full content of this document
Extract
Pedigree Curmudgeon ; He Was the Maestro of Misery with a Genius for Making Us Happy. But Sir Clement's Family Was Riven by Feuds That Would Have Defied Freudian Analysis
Clement Freud -- Clay to his friends -- was one of those people who seem to have been placed on earth to remind everyone that it's not all bad. His method was to insist that it was.
Take his introduction to an article he wrote in the Daily Mail in 2002, challenging a study that was in every series of the programme claimed optimism was vital for a longer and healthier life: 'One often comes across optimists -- demented folk who approve of everything, submit to anyone, believe the world is full of virtue and continue to...See the full content of this document
Sponsored links
