MY WICKED WICKED WAYS by Errol Flynn
This slog has taken about three months, bloody hell. It’s a weird one to comment on, cos I think my biggest actual problem is that it doesn’t focus on the bits that I’d hoped it would focus on. Mainly it’s about his travels and tall tale adventures, which are pretty unbelievably embellished [he admits he wants to write a memoir playing up to his rep as trouble] and his statutory rape case [yeah, fun, huh?].
Most of the book, apart from the trial part and some of Hollywood anecdotes that can be checked with the recounts of others, is at best apocryphal. Even the true bits are dubious, such as when he nicks other actors’ experiences and tells them as his own. [There’s at least one fencing anecdote which actually is Basil Rathbone’s on the set of Romeo And Juliet, a movie Flynn wasn’t in; and another which Christopher Lee did to Flynn, but Flynn here claims to have done to some generic unnamed actor]. But there are some good bits of trivia that have been corroborated by others too. Just not as many as I’d hoped for.
The most shocking things to a modern reader, though, are actually the things which seem to have been considered NORMAL in the 1920s, with slavery and underage relationships all over the place.
Flynn and his ghostwriter have given us a fair number of amusing bits, and some poetic bits mainly about the sea, so it isn’t actually badly written or anything, but… I really wanted more behind the scenes stuff about the making of his classic movies. And it felt like a long slog through the jungle itself.