Ray Winstone’s cheekily monikered memoir, YOUNG WINSTONE, is a blinder.
A bang up autobiography that is structured more like a cartographer than a star spangled expose of a celebrity, YOUNG WINSTONE charts the first half of this man’s life – he’s 58 in February – in twenty-five chapters each bearing place names as their titles.
Winstone’s sense of place, his East End roots, and the streets and precincts he knocked around in his formative years, inform every sentence in this rollicking yarn of a geezer and his gaff.
Readers have a lot to be grateful for because the book was spurred on by a spurning.
The tossers at the BBC TV series Who Do You Think You Are? rejected Raymond’s family as being too boring. But the research done as a preliminary did enlighten– both branches of Ray’s family came from the East End, traced all the way back to the 1700s, mum’s side from East Ham and dad’s from Hoxton. Continue reading Young Winstone