I genuinely think this one of the funniest and best-written books I've ever read. She makes me laugh out loud, chattering nineteen to the dozen, scattering an amazing vocabulary, constantly switching personalities; presenting a heartfelt teenage poem and then subverting it with a sly wink. I read much of this book whilst convalescing one Sunday afternoon and felt worn out just by the enthusiasm of her wibbling. Her energy is exhausting, and the fact it's all based on diaries makes it feel like a continuous rollercoaster present. An early highlight is her description of herself as part of a gang of "hysterical squealing piglets" following the Beatles (and Paul McCartney in particular), clambering over walls and through bushes to camp out wherever they were staying; plotting grisly imaginary deaths for Jane Asher. And there's an odd naivety or innocence in her description of the early days of the Doors, Zappa, Hendrix, the Burritos; by the time Led Zep come on the scene it's all starting to get a bit darker. People are getting hurt and lost by the way. At this point hers was an utterly pre-feminist ideal of being a nurturing muse and domestic slave for her various boyfriends; at times this almost seems to work, but at many others you want to shake her, tell her `you're wasting your time on this one, love.'
Curiously, her deranged affair with Keith Moon actually comes across as one of the more equal, symbiotic ones. This edition (the book was first published in the 80s) has an epilogue rounding up what has happened to a lot of the characters since, but this begs as many questions as it answers. She says proudly that she remains friends with all her lovers, yet the end result of lengthy and tortuous affair with Jimmy Page appears to be being best friends with Robert Plant. And her statement that she would never touch a married man is directly contradicted by one or two anecdotes earlier in the book. But her enthusiasm and affection for both music and people is genuinely infectious and she's endlessly entertaining. "Boredom is a cop-out! A terrible excuse for not living every second and drinking God's air (now matter how polluted) into your lungs." Amen, sister.