Micro review: 'Windswept & Interesting' by Billy Connolly

It is rare for lovers of live comedy to be unacquainted with Billy Connolly, better known as Sir William Connolly. Known for his idiosyncratic and often improvised observational comedy, Connolly has topped many UK polls as one of the greatest comedians of all time. However, three years ago, after nearly half a century on the stage, Connolly officially retired from live comedy.But for those missing the comedian's storytelling, his memoir titled 'Windswept & Interesting' is surely the next best thing.
In his memoir, Connolly narrates tales of unimaginable cruelty by the hands of his Scottish school teachers, whom he often referred to as "chalkdust-flecked monsters" in his live shows.
"The nuns were very violent," he writes. "Their punishment tool was a 12ins ruler they’d crash down on our knuckles, even in infants’ school." A teacher nicknamed "Big Rosie" placed pencils under hands to cause extra pain - "a psychopath". In music lessons - step we gaily, on we go - noses would be smashed into desks: "Come on, Connolly! SING IT!"
But this wasn't enough. What happened with Connolly at home in Glasgow at the hands of Auntie Mona is even worse.
"She’d smack me in the face so my nose bled. She whacked me with wet towels, kicked me, battered my head with her high-heeled shoes. But her speciality was humiliation - grabbing me and rubbing my dirty underwear in my face." Once, rather than return home after school, he trudged 12 miles the other way - to Hamilton. "I thought a lot about drowning myself in the Clyde."
However, there is also a lot of love in the book, especially for Connolly's sister Florence. While his father, William, was fighting in Burma, their mother, Mary, would leave the children alone in the house with the fire open and blazing, Florence once falling into burning ashes and permanently damaging an eye. But, just 18 months his senior, it was she who looked after Connolly.
"Florence bathed me, fed me, dressed me." When he was only four his mum ran off with another man. "I don’t remember her hugging me," he writes.
The book is humorous also as Connolly riffs on various likes and dislikes. It also mentions him contracting Parkinson's disease in 2013, which restricted his "banjo-playing" but not his "shouting at the TV"!
Finally, though he misses Scotland and football he says: "I’ve got no complaints. I’ve got shelter, food, my wifey and my girlies and my son and my grandchildren." He has always been determined to give his kids the love and support he didn’t get. He writes: "I feel happy just as I’m about to go to sleep … I’ve always imagined that would be the feeling you get before you die."