Maureen Lipman's Humour

At Christmas last year I had acquired approximately £80 of book tokens, and being the frugal (some would doubtless say stingy!) soul that I am, I resisted the urge to dash straight out and spend the lot. I waited until the New Year Sales, when bookshops like Waterstones vastly reduce the cost of the books they purchased for Christmas, and still have in stock. So early in the New Year I staggered home with an enormous pile of books. - The Guinness Book of Records at 75% off, Britain from Above (a tie in with the BBC TV series) also at 75% off, The Works, - a selection of Pam Ayres poems, various other tomes, and autobiographies of Katherine Jenkins, Julie Walters and Maureen Lipman.





I had already read some of Maureen Lipman's previous books (How Was it For You?, Something to Fall Back On, Thank You For Having Me, When's it coming Out? etc.) and thoroughly enjoyed her quirky sense of humour. Her latest book, (Past It Notes) which was written after the death of her much loved husband, Jack Rosenthal, continues the story of her somewhat chaotic and very funny family life, and includes many anecdotes of her life in the theatre. The chapter headings themselves are usually a play on well known words or phrases (Au Pairfect tells the story of her au pair, Pumping Irony tells the story of an exercise regime she tries to follow, and Dandy Lying and Murdoch [Dandelion & Burdock - get it?] - well why don't you get hold of the book and find out for yourself?

We meet Maureen's wonderful Jewish mother, Zelma, who is an expert at saying not quite the right thing at the right time - in a Greek restaurant she was heard to ask for the fellatio and chips. It is not recorded what the Greek waiter said!

Just to give you a taste of Maureen Lipman's humour, here is her version of the first time she took Jack Rosenthal home to meet her parents..........

At home of course I was placed in my own bedroom with the teddies, and Jack got the boxroom. Naturally enough I found it hard to sleep and was pacing about when my mother, as always, majoring in the rhetorical, called "Can't you sleep?" On hearing the negative reply she suggested I came in for a chat - which I did. My father grew more and more annoyed at this intrusion into his shut eye, and finally, after dark mutterings and much thrashing about of limbs, he got up and stalked into my room. I ultimately settled down with my mother and the night passed normally away.

Except for Jack. Unaware of this game of musical beds, he awoke at 5.30 and remembered where he was. Then he remembered were I was, crept out onto the landing, creaking his way past my parents room, silently negotiated the door into my room, and gratefully got into the single bed (with my father!) It was only after he'd kissed the short hair at the back of his neck, and my father had whirled around saying, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" that he realised his mistake.

"I - I - I wondered if you'd like a cup of tea....?" he stammered.

It took a long time for Maurice to totally trust the man who was to marry his daughter.

Happy reading!