May Week Was In June - More Unreliable Memoirs

<p><b>It is the middle of the Swinging Sixties, and Clive James doesn't have much to show for it. <i>May Week Was In June</i> is the third hilarious, tender instalment of memoir from the iconic author, poet and broadcaster.<br><br>'Nobody writes like Clive James' &ndash; <i>Spectator</i></b><br><br>Arriving at Cambridge University in a cold October in 1964, the young Clive James has yet to find a footing in the literary world. His move from Sydney and three years of hand-to-mouth existence in London has produced nothing but a handful of unpublished poems. Pembroke College Cambridge offers a way out, if not up . . .<br><br>Ignoring the curriculum, he throws himself into writing songs, performing and film reviewing. &ldquo;If something was irrelevant, I could do it.&rdquo; He takes Footlights to the Edinburgh Fringe, writes for the New Stateman and works on <i>Expresso Drongo</i>, arguably the worst film ever screened at the NFT . He finds a lifelong passion in criticism, continues his poetry, falls in love with Italian art and eventually, in May Week, he marries. These are the years that formed the man Clive James &ndash; told with his trademark erudition and humour.<br><br><b><i>May Week Was In June</i> is the third book of memoir from Clive James. Continue his story with <i>North Face of Soho</i>.</b></p>