Falling Towards England [Unreliable Memoirs Continued.]

UK,slim 8vo HB+dw/dj,1st edn.NFINE/VG+.No owner inscrptn and price-clip to dw/dj.Bright,crisp,glossy laminated,subject/ author's b/w portrait photographic illustrated dw/dj panels,with red+black lettering; with negligible shelf-wear or creasing to edges and corners - no nicks or tears present.Water/fluid stain internally to both head+foot of spine/ backstrip of dw/dj bleeding through to exterior and therefore visible and both with minimal bumping and reciprocal creasing to same and whole lightly sunned/faded.Top edges slightly and lightly dust-soiled with minimal,faint and sporadic foxing/ spotting,fore-edges brighter and cleaner without foxing but some minimal thumbing/grubbing; contents bright,tight,clean,solid and sound - near pristine - no dog-ear reading creases to any pages' corners, appears unread - apart from my own collation.Bright,crisp,clean,generally sharp-cornered - top two corners minimally bumped,publisher's original plain black cloth boards with bright, crisp,stamped gilt letters to spine/backstrip and immaculate plain white endpapers.UK,8vo HB+dw/dj,1st edn,11-192pp [paginated] includes a preface and 18 chapters,plus [unpaginated] half-title+title pages,a dedication,2 epigrams and a contents list/ table.
When London began to swing in the early Sixties,Clive James was there. But he was flat broke.When we last met our hero in 'Unreliable Memoirs', he had set sail from Sydney Harbour on the 'Bretagne',bound for London,fame and fortune.Idealistic and uncompromising,if short of cash, he planned to engage himself in a low-paying menial job by day and to compose poetical masterpieces by night. 'When I got off the ship in Southampton in that allegedly mld January of 1962,' Mr James reports,'I had nothing to declare at customs except goose pimples under my white nylon drip-dry shirt.' Scarcely daunted,he moved purposefully beyond 'the Valley of the kangaroos' (otherwise known as Earls Court) into a bed and breakfast in Swiss Cottage where he thoughtfully practised the Twist in his room,anticipated the poetical masterpieces and worried a little about his wardrobe.There followed a succession of other digs which included a large paper bag in Tufnell Park and a coal barge in Twickenham.Having promised himself he would never succumb to such stop-gap occupations as publishing or advertising,he was happily unsuccessful in landing a job in either - at least initially.Positions with London Transport and as a wine expert were likewise denied him.But employment in various forms did materialise - from librarianship to light metal work - if only as a temporary submission to capitalist values,naturally,and this nearly kept him in Woodpecker cider.James had been offered a place at Pembroke College,Cambridge, but since he would not qualify for a grant until he had been resident in London for three more years (mercifully knocked down to two) this poignant and raucous phase of his life went on slightly longer than was beneficial to the social services.Benefits to the author (and the reader) prove many,however.Already movie mad,he goes opera mad and persists in his efforts to drive young women mad.No one else could have captured the absurdities and sublimities of the early Sixties or the rigours of being an alien in the motherland with such aplomb. Since April 2013,again in March 2015,and in this year too,the UK Post Office has altered it's Pricing in Proportion template,altering it's prices, weight allowances,dimensions and lowered it's qualifying compensation rates too!
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