Although pottering around your country home, feeding the fish and descriptions of dogs' antics don't usually make riveting reading, in this witty memoir, Alec Guinness is as entertaining as in his previous auto "Blessings In Disguise". It's hard to imagine this man is the same one described in Garry O'Connors biography. O'Connor implies rough trade homosexuality, false modesty, a vicious tongue and unpleasantness to his wife, Guinness seems to me both a moral man and a devoted husband. Heartening to read that in his eighties he still made frequent London trips, to see the latest exhibition or play and keep up with friends. Guinness died three years ago aged 86, but obviously lived a wonderful and full life until the very end. One gripe though; he obviously hated the association with Star Wars, even though it must have kept him very comfortably for all those years. Surely science fiction is better than blacking up in Passage to India, eh Alec?!