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Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me Paperback – May 27, 2008
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“A charming, lively and seductive book . . . The appeal of Wonderful Tonight is as self-evident as the seemingly simple but brash opening chord of ‘A Hard Day’s Night.’”—The New York Times Book Review
Pattie Boyd, former wife of both George Harrison and Eric Clapton, finally breaks a forty-year silence and tells the story of how she found herself bound to two of the most addictive, promiscuous musical geniuses of the twentieth century and became the most legendary muse in the history of rock and roll. The woman who inspired Harrison’s song “Something” and Clapton’s anthem “Layla,” Pattie Boyd has written a book that is rich and raw, funny and heartbreaking—and totally honest.
- Print length336 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherCrown
- Publication dateMay 27, 2008
- Dimensions5.16 x 0.72 x 7.94 inches
- ISBN-100307407837
- ISBN-13978-0307407832
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Editorial Reviews
Review
—New York Times Book Review
“A scrumptious memoir…There is exactly one big question for Ms. Boyd to answer here: What made her leave Mr. Harrison for Mr. Clapton, her husband’s close friend? To its credit the book answers that question plausibly and fully.”
—The New York Times
"They say if you can remember the '60s, you weren't really there. Well, Pattie Boyd was there, and she remembers it all." Wonderful Tonight "is a unique gospel of a turbulent time by someone who was in the very eye of the rock 'n' roll hurricane."
—Sydney Morning Herald
"Pattie Boyd married two Sixties legends and inspired three of the era's greatest love songs, but life was far from glamorous. The ex-wife of George Harrison and Eric Clapton speaks out in this compelling autobiography."
—The London Sunday Times
"There are so many wonderful stories in Pattie Boyd's life: Falling in love with a Beatle. Falling in love with another famous rock star, Eric Clapton, and being serenaded with 'Wonderful Tonight' . . . "But there is much that is excruciating in her life story." Boyd "was taught by her parents that she didn't deserve to be loved; she was told by her husbands that she wasn't worth very much, but here she is: not dead, not on drugs, not an alcoholic, but a survivor."
—London Daily Mail
“Will thrill classic-rock buffs with a taste for scandal.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“Boyd finally answers some of those questions [about George Harrison and Eric Clapton]–but on her own terms.”
—USA Today
“Sixties model Pattie Boyd opens up about her rocky relationships with two of music’s most famed performers.”
—Harper’s Bazaar
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
One
Childhood in Kenya
My earliest memory is of sitting in a high chair spitting out spinach—strange for someone who turned into such a passionate foodie. In my late teens I became determined to improve the experience, even enjoy it, and today spinach is one of my favorite vegetables—but it has to be right: steamed, chopped, and mixed with double cream, white pepper, and nutmeg. Delicious. Raw in a salad, it’s even better. But at the age of two I couldn’t get the repellent dark green mess out of my mouth fast enough.
I was living in Scotland, at a house in West Lothian my grandparents had bought when I was a year old in 1945. We lived with them at that time, and my mother remembers the move from Somerset: taking me on a train—in an ordinary carriage, as she puts it—with all our belongings, and the embarrassment of having to feed me during the journey amid a group of soldiers. I was her first child, of six, and she was a young, nervous mother. Shortly after we arrived in Scotland my brother Colin was born. He is almost exactly two years younger than I am and I remember examining him when he was a baby and noticing that there was a small difference between us. He was a huge baby, and as soon as he could walk he followed me everywhere.
Another early memory is of holding a stick in my hand and telling Colin to pick up a wasp I could see stuck in the crack between some paving stones and delighting in the howls that followed. I am told I also tried to feed him with a petrol capsule—the sort used to fill lighters. It looked like a miniature baby’s bottle, so I pushed it into his mouth and the poor little thing had burns all over his lips. I don’t remember that episode but I do remember trying to kill him by burying him in the sandpit in the garden. Luckily my mother noticed in the nick of time and rescued him.
My parents were living at Howleigh House, near Taunton in Somerset, when I was born. My mother and her twin brother, John, had spent most of their childhood there. They had been born in India but sent to boarding school in England at the age of eight, and in the holidays they stayed with an aunt at Howleigh House. Their father, Lieutenant Colonel Alexander E. Drysdale, DSO, MC, was in the Indian army, and Vivian, his wife, a rather exotic figure with a penchant for pink gin, visited England and the twins about twice a year. So sad, but Vivian had also been born in India and shipped home to be educated in England, so history was repeating itself.
I never knew my great-grandfather but he sounds splendid. His name was Alexander Stuart-Martin and he was also born near Lucknow, in India—in 1870. He fought in the Indian Mutiny and the British government rewarded him for his bravery with indigo and sugar plantations, which made him wealthy. He, too, was educated in England, as most colonials were, then became an engineer and built many of the bridges and railways in India. It was on a trip to England that he met and married the beautiful Elizabeth Sabin, who, unusually for those times, was a divorcée, having managed to escape from a terrifyingly brutal husband. They returned to India together, where she had two daughters, Vivian, my grandmother, and Frances, but there were complications with the second delivery and Elizabeth died soon after she had given birth. Alexander lived on—in some style. He drove around in a magnificent Bentley that he had had shipped out from England. For years it behaved beautifully in the heat and dust, but finally gave up the ghost. Undaunted, my great-grandfather hitched it up to a couple of oxen and continued to travel in the style to which he was accustomed.
The two daughters, Vivian and Frances, were sent to school in England, where they were looked after by relatives, returning to India once a year to visit their father. You could only travel by sea in those days and the journey took two weeks. On one of the voyages the young Vivian met Alexander Drysdale, my grandfather, on his way to join his regiment. Many years later they met again, at a tennis party in Lucknow, fell in love, married, and Vivian gave birth to twins: Diana Frances, my mother, and John, my uncle, who never married and has spent most of his life abroad.
The twins were well looked after at Howleigh, and there was no shortage of money. A cook, a scullery maid, and a pantry maid ran the domestic side of life, but the aunt was Scottish born and bred, so life was simple. She didn’t entertain much or lay on anything for the children, so Diana and John seldom saw other children during their stays. I can’t imagine how bereft they must have felt with their parents thousands of miles away, or how a mother could bear to see her children no more than two or three times a year, but I suppose in those days she would have had no choice. And, having suffered the same fate as a child, she probably thought there was nothing unusual about it.
I was born, weighing seven pounds, on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17, 1944; hence my name. My mother had been convinced she was having a boy and had thought of me as Michael for nine months, so as she had put no thought into girls’ names, I was called Patricia Anne. I don’t know whether it was the shock of discovering that I was not a Michael, or the inordinate length of time I took to be born, but she had a sort of breakdown afterward—I suppose you would call it postpartum depression today—and to begin with I was looked after by the now aged aunt, May, who had cared for Mummy, and by my grandmother, who was back from India. My grandfather had retired from the army, leaving India for good, and they planned to settle in Britain. They stayed initially in Somerset with Aunt May, but when she sold Howleigh House, they bought a house in Scotland and the whole family moved there.
Brigg House was beautiful, with extensive grounds and a walled vegetable garden, but the cold, damp West Lothian winters proved detrimental to my grandfather’s health, so in 1947 he sold it and moved to Kenya with my grandmother, leaving my parents, Colin, and me to fend for ourselves. We moved south and rented a house near Guildford, in Surrey, where my sister Jenny was born in November 1947, when I was three and a half. She wasn’t actually christened Jenny: my mother named her Helen Mary, to please a couple of aunts, but I had a favorite teddy at the time called Jenny and I insisted my new sister be called by the same name.
My parents married when they were young and inexperienced, and, like hundreds of other couples who married during the war, they knew next to nothing about each other when they walked up the aisle. My mother was seventeen when she met Jock Boyd at a dance in Somerset. He was twenty-three and, of course, dashing in his RAF uniform, with smart brass buttons and gold wings on the left shoulder. Also, he danced like a dream. He was tall and handsome with blond curly hair and cornflower-blue eyes; she was petite and beautiful, with luxuriant chestnut hair. They danced all night, and after just two more brief meetings Jock wrote to Diana and asked her to marry him. Her mother, my grandmother, who was a controlling sort of woman, encouraged her to say yes. I think she wanted to get my mother off her hands, and Jock, she had established, came from a good family. He had money, too, or so she had been told by his mother. All in all, he was the perfect catch. But once they were married it turned out that he had no money, and my mother, having been used to quite a grand lifestyle, found it difficult to manage.
Jock’s real name was Colin Ian Langdon Boyd. His parents had a farm in the Fowey Valley in Cornwall. His mother was a strange woman. By the time I knew her she and Jock’s father had separated and she was living with lots of dachshunds. According to my mother, she had never really liked children, so Jock and his younger brother and sister were brought up by aunts living in Bideford. Poor Jock had a miserable childhood but he spent a lot of it hunting and shooting, and horses were his passion. He was sent to Kelly College, a small public school in Tavistock, then went on to Sandhurst and into the Cheshire Regiment. But he never fought as a soldier. A car crash prevented him going out to the front with his regiment and he was seconded to the RAF, first flying Lysanders and later, when he joined Bomber Command, Wellingtons. When he met my mother his squadron was stationed at Weston Zoyland in Somerset and he and his friends went regularly to the Castle in Taunton for a drink or two in the evenings.
Soon after they were engaged, just weeks after that first meeting in early 1942, Jock was sent to Malta, where he had the most terrible accident. There was a strip of runway, with bombers taking off and landing from opposite directions, controlled by traffic lights. He was taking off in a plane fully laden with bombs and fuel with the green light in his favor, but there was a fault: the light at the other end of the runway was also green and the two planes collided head-on and burst into flames. My father jumped clear before the plane exploded but his face and right hand were very badly burned. He was lucky to be alive. Several of his crew and men from the other aircraft were killed—including two who got out of one plane but lost their bearings in the smoke and were decapitated by the propeller.
Jock was flown home and taken straight to East Grinstead, in Sussex, to the burn unit at Queen Victoria Hospital run by the famous pioneering plastic surgeon Archibald McIndoe, where he became one of McIndoe’s Guinea Pigs—so called because of the experimental reconstructive work McIndoe was doing on burn victims. Before him, people with burns as severe as my father’s would probably not have survived. My mother went to see him in hospital, fearing that she wouldn’t recognize him—the ward was full of heavily bandaged men with missing noses and ears. Jock’s head was covered with bandages but she could see two very blue eyes and knew at once it was him. I have the same color eyes and so does Colin—and it was the Boyd eyes, years later, that made me certain that someone who thought she might be my half sister, in America, really was.
As soon as my mother sat down beside Jock’s hospital bed he said, “I’ve got something for you.” He opened a drawer and out came a matchbox with lots of cotton wool inside which was a ruby and diamond engagement ring. It had belonged to his mother, but because she was such a horrible woman, my mother disliked the ring from the start.
It was not a good omen. Apart from the ring, though, Mummy was uncertain about the marriage. The accident seemed to have changed Jock. She went to see him in hospital several times and they would sit together not saying a word. She was very shy and didn’t know what to talk about, and he would sit staring vacantly ahead.
Physically, they patched him up as well as they could. He was left with a badly burned forehead and the tendons in his right hand had been irreparably damaged, so he never flew again. Emotionally, I don’t think he ever recovered. From that day on he was locked into himself. He would never talk about the accident; in fact, he would scarcely talk about anything. My mother had fallen in love with this handsome, spirited, brave young pilot, who had swept her off her feet on the dance floor, and he had gone, the spark had died. But having said she would marry Jock, and with the terrible thing that had happened to him, she didn’t have the heart or the courage to call it off.
Six months after the accident, on September 14, 1942, they married. It was a big wedding for the time, with two hundred guests and a reception at Howleigh House, but my mother says that even as she was walking out of the church she knew she’d made a big mistake. She didn’t feel comfortable with Jock: there seemed to be a barrier between them. They went on honeymoon to Scotland and, as my mother puts it, muddled along. Jock now says he felt the same way and that, anyway, they were far too young when they married.
My father went back repeatedly to East Grinstead for treatment over the following months and spent time in various other rehabilitation places to try to get his fingers moving, but without success. His right hand remained claw-like and both were discolored; as children, we found his injuries fascinating. Unable to fly, he ended up in the War Office, which was enough, according to him, to drive anyone mad, so when my grandparents suggested that he and Mummy join them in Kenya, he leaped at the idea.
When I was four, we moved to Africa, to the large, sprawling house that my grandfather had built in Langata, near Karen, about half an hour from Nairobi. I remember that flight—it took hours: there were no direct flights from England to Africa in those days because the planes needed to refuel at regular intervals. Flying BOAC from London, we stopped at Cairo, Khartoum, Addis Ababa, and finally Nairobi. I was horribly sick throughout the trip, into the sturdy brown bags that were routinely tucked into the back pockets of the seats in front.
My grandparents’ house stood at the bottom of a long, winding gravel drive—on which, some years later, I learned to ride a bicycle—with glorious views in every direction across the game reserve that surrounded it. It was a single-story house with a veranda that ran almost all the way around it. My grandparents had brought paintings, china, and cutlery from the house in Scotland but they had had the furniture made in Nairobi of mooli, the most beautiful honey-colored local wood. There was a huge garden, with lawns, standard roses, peach trees, and nasturtiums, that ran straight into the wilderness. It was quite common for giraffes, lions, or other wild animals to wander in and, because of the bushes, it wasn’t always easy to see them. The dogs, though, would bark incessantly until the interlopers left.
Product details
- Publisher : Crown; First Edition (May 27, 2008)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 336 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0307407837
- ISBN-13 : 978-0307407832
- Item Weight : 2.31 pounds
- Dimensions : 5.16 x 0.72 x 7.94 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #59,760 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #129 in Rock Music (Books)
- #136 in Rock Band Biographies
- #1,980 in Memoirs (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the authors
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Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonCustomers say
Customers find the book engaging and interesting, with an honest depiction of an interesting time. They describe the story as good, especially for music lovers. Readers praise the author's personality as sweet and classy. They appreciate the amazing imagery of the sixties and the Beatles inside track. However, some feel the pacing is too slow at times and jumps back and forth in time.
AI-generated from the text of customer reviews
Customers enjoy the book's readability. They find it interesting, enjoyable, and educational. The book is described as well-written and special.
"...This is a book worth reading if you’re interested in the life of the rich and famous, but don’t expect to read about joyful and wonderful things...." Read more
"...The most interesting, fun and complete part of the book is the first half dealing with Pattie's early life, her modeling career and her marriage to..." Read more
"...I found it interesting. But it left me wondering why she ever married Eric Clapton...." Read more
"...Cynthia's book on John was good, but that turned out to be about someone that John left behind in the early 60's and not the man he became with Yoko..." Read more
Customers find the book an interesting and sweet recount of Pattie Boyd's life. They appreciate the honest and forthright portrayal of the times. The book takes them back to those times and is a fascinating read for anyone interested in rock.
"...I found myself very sympathetic to her throughout the first half of the book. Boyd had a rough childhood...." Read more
"...It gave me a whole new perspective of him, as well as Pattie and Eric Clapton. She drops a lot of names, and sometimes I lost track of who was who...." Read more
"...A series of highs and lows but due to the fascinating people, the highs were much higher. Unfortunately, the lows were much lower...." Read more
"...Elevation as effacement. The sketch of the 1960s is understandable and some of the comments—e.g. that the effects of all the drugs were unclear then—..." Read more
Customers enjoy the story. They find it entertaining and well-written, especially for music lovers. The book provides insights into how the songs were written and the creative process.
"...from the book that says: “Being the muse of two such extraordinarily creative musicians, and having such beautiful and powerful love songs written..." Read more
"...The most interesting, fun and complete part of the book is the first half dealing with Pattie's early life, her modeling career and her marriage to..." Read more
"...Boyd had a rough childhood. It was enjoyable hearing about who she met George Harrison and their relationship...." Read more
"...This book however was totally without passion and short on insights one would have expected...." Read more
Customers enjoy the book's personality. They find it interesting and praise the author as a classy, pure-hearted woman. The book provides an insight into the author's life and experiences.
"Pattie Boyd was probably one of the most beautiful rock women during her 60s heyday...." Read more
"...Her wonderful British accent made her sound so distinguished and clever...." Read more
"So here is this lovely woman whom you'd think had it all. But her life isn't really so unusual except for the men to whom she was married...." Read more
"...I was just a kid, but loved hearing and reading about these fantastic girls and seeing thier pictures...." Read more
Customers enjoy the book's beauty. They find it fascinating and well-written, describing the author as beautiful inside and out, with a unique perspective that draws them in. The book paints a vivid picture of the 1960s and the Beatles' inner circle. Readers appreciate the author's style and appearance, describing her as well-dressed and having the perfect body style of the era.
"...I think she has painted a wonderful picture of the sixties and the Beatles' inside track...." Read more
"...It's amazing they were able to create music that is so, so appealing." Read more
"...She did have the perfect body style of the age: long skinny legs, long skinny arms, small narrow torso...." Read more
"...Anticipation heightened when it arrived from Amazon: An attractive hardcover, well-made, high-quality all around...Or so I thought until reading..." Read more
Customers have mixed opinions about the writing quality. Some find it well-written, easy to read, and understandable. Others feel it lacks detail and insight.
"...But Pattie's narrative is at one accessible and understandable, with just enough insight to make George more of a real person. Does she tell all? NO!..." Read more
"...It's hard to read this book along with Clapton's recent biography where he seems much less affected by the entire breakup and unremorseful for his..." Read more
"...I found it very detailed on certain superficial issues, but suspiciously flippant and vague on other more weighty topics...." Read more
"...Well written and fast paced, if you like stories about Rock n Roll, the 60's and the musical genuises that populated that era, I highly recommed..." Read more
Customers have different views on the book's emotional content. Some find it heartbreaking and sad, with a beautiful tragic tale. Others feel it lacks emotion and intimacy, leaving them depressed or unmoved after reading.
"...Eric seems not so much heartless as just not emotionally sensitive enough to have a decent relationship...." Read more
"...This book was both fascinating and sad, and I could see where the young woman was caught up in the world of rock ‘n’ roll and lost to it, and the..." Read more
"...The book is disturbing depressing. As she wrote, the musicians she was around all the time never grew up. They were never criticized...." Read more
"...happy", "I cried all the way to LA", there is almost no emotion in the writing...." Read more
Customers find the pacing of the book inconsistent and confusing. They mention it drags on too long, seems rushed, and jumps around from moment to moment. The constant jumping back and forth in time is also mentioned as a problem.
"...But the book begins to read very slowly once she is through with George and Eric. Great, she went everywhere and met many people...." Read more
"...No insight into anyone's motivations...." Read more
"...The first problem for me was the constant jumping back and forth in time. Often I had to read back a few pages to make sense of it...." Read more
"...Although the chronology is roughly in order, it does jump around a bit. I am glad she wrote the book...." Read more
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Pattie Boyd, George Harrison and Eric Clapton Lore
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- Reviewed in the United States on November 21, 2023My used copy came in excellent condition and I was happy to finally read it.
<b>Sad and Interesting Life</b>
Pattie Boyd by her own admission, led an interesting life. She was the muse for two very talented and famous musicians that ultimately took its toll on her.
In an excerpt from the book that says: “Being the muse of two such extraordinarily creative musicians, and having such beautiful and powerful love songs written about me, was enormously flattering, but it put the most tremendous pressure on me to be the amazing person they must have thought I was- and secretly knew I wasn’t. I felt I had to be flawless, serene, someone who understood every situation, who made no demands, but was there to fulfill every fantasy; and that someone with not much of a voice.”
This book was both fascinating and sad, and I could see where the young woman was caught up in the world of rock ‘n’ roll and lost to it, and the men who played it. I can see where she lost herself, and tolerated a great deal more than someone with what she had to offer should have. When George Harrison started to lose interest, and she was courted by Eric Clapton, she could see that Eric was an alcoholic. Yet she succumbed to his romantic advances, when instead, she should’ve simply left Harrison and decided whether or not her marriage should’ve continued.
This is a book worth reading if you’re interested in the life of the rich and famous, but don’t expect to read about joyful and wonderful things. The rich and famous suffer, sadness and setbacks, the same as everybody else, and in fact possibly more. This was a five star read, but not the romance I expected. Pattie was ultimately just another woman in the shadows of the men she lived with.
- Reviewed in the United States on March 5, 2010Pattie Boyd was probably one of the most beautiful rock women during her 60s heyday. She snagged a Beatle after only one meeting on a movie set, inspired Clapton to create the anthem "Layla" and was the avowed idol of many a young girl. Yet her book, in contrast to some of the other "rock wife" and "rock groupie" books out there, is noticeably devoid of ego, or bitterness towards the famous men who let her down. At times she comes off as almost self-effacing to the degree that you'd just like to tell her, "Pattie! Wake up and realize you're awesome!"
Even though I'd read many Beatles books in the past, I hadn't realized the degree to which Pattie was a cipher in those books. (By contrast, some of them contain Yoko Ono's entire life history pre-Lennon.) It turns out Pattie had a very interesting childhood, having been raised in a poor and somewhat dysfunctional family in Africa. Eventually, pre-teen Pattie moves to England and starts a modeling career just as the Beatles are hitting the big time. She meets George and has a fairy-tale romance ending in marriage. Unfortunately, George ends up cheating on her - with Ringo's wife Maureen of all people (I had also never heard this story before). When George isn't cheating he's distancing himself to concentrate on his meditation or inviting meditation groups to come live in his and Pattie's house. Living with this type of stress, it's easy to see why Pattie eventually succumbed to the repeated and persistent advances of George's friend Eric Clapton, who claimed that her initial rejection of him led him into years of heroin addiction.
After Pattie marries Eric, his addictions and erratic behaviors disturb any peace she might have hoped for. This section of the book seems choppy and less complete than Pattie's recounting of her life with George, and you sense something else may be lurking below the surface of Eric and Pattie's troubled relationship. (It is rumored that she left his worst excesses, such as physical abuse, out of the book.) Eric seems not so much heartless as just not emotionally sensitive enough to have a decent relationship. For example, he fathers children outside the marriage even though Pattie has desperately tried, and failed, to have a child of her own and she is devastated by it. By the time the book gets to the end of the Pattie and Eric story, Pattie, for all her money and her exciting life, truly seems beaten down and victimized, emotionally if not also physically. It's hard to read this book along with Clapton's recent biography where he seems much less affected by the entire breakup and unremorseful for his extramarital affairs.
The end of the book has Pattie getting her life together with the help of her friends, achieving some measure of inner peace, and dealing with the death of George, to whom she still feels a loving bond. By this point Pattie's life has become so rarified (jetting off to this and that exotic destination) that she seems removed from the mere mortals on earth, but her emotions still seem very human.
The most interesting, fun and complete part of the book is the first half dealing with Pattie's early life, her modeling career and her marriage to George. The Eric sections seem very sad by comparison (as well as choppy) and I found myself really wishing, as Pattie also seems to wish at times, that she and George had gotten back together, or never broken up. My one major complaint with the book and its subject is that Pattie does seem very passive and at times like she has no life or motivation of her own - she just exists to bask in whatever love these powerful men might choose to dole out to her. Perhaps this is due to her having an unhappy childhood and then marrying one of the biggest rock stars in the world at a very young age, but I do hope she's able to grow a little bit more of an assertive spine.
- Reviewed in the United States on September 3, 2007Pattie Boyd is the reader on the abrdiged audiobook. She has a pleasant reading voice. In fact, she is a better reader than some of the actors who reguarly read audiobooks.
I found myself very sympathetic to her throughout the first half of the book. Boyd had a rough childhood. It was enjoyable hearing about who she met George Harrison and their relationship. He treated her badly, having an affair with Maureen Starkey. In addition, once he started meditating, he retreated into the mediation, ignoring Boyd. By her account, Harrison treated Pattie better after he married Olivia Arias. He made a touching offer to take care of her at a point when her relationship to Eric Clapton had foundered.
As described in this book, Eric Clapton is just despicable. Boyd says nothing positive about him. In fact, I found it hard to figure out why she was attracted to him.
I lost all sympathy for Boyd when she decided to marry Clapton. By her own account, before she married Claption:
1) He told her he would take heroin if she didn't have an affair with him.
2) He had an affair with Boyd's sister and cheated on her.
3) He was a heroin addict.
4) He had cheated on Boyd already.
If some one who tells you he is going to take heroin if you don't have an affair with him, run screaming in the opposite direction. This is proof that he is mentally unbalanced, willing to use emotional blackmail, and either a heroin addict or some one well on the way to that unfortunate destination.
And once the man has cheated on you, marriage is not likely to change anything for the better.
By her own account it appears that Boyd married Clapton simply because some friends told her do it. And that Clapton only asked her to marry him because he was trying to win a bet.
After reading all of this, I had no interest in her whining about how Clapton broke her heart.
And I sincerely I hope I misheard something and she did not actually refer to a house purchase for more than 300,000 pounds as a "cottage".
If you have an interest in Pattie Boyd and her relationships with George Harrison and Eric Clapton, you'll probably enjoy the book. I found it interesting. But it left me wondering why she ever married Eric Clapton. Given her account of what happened before the marriage, this seems like a serious lapse of judgement.
Any one with more than a passing familiarity with the Beatles' story already knew that George and Maureen had an affair. The most shocking revelation in this book is that Pattie attended Bill Wyman's 70th birthday party. My God the Stones are old!!!!
Top reviews from other countries
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Beatriz SouzaReviewed in Brazil on February 25, 2024
5.0 out of 5 stars Incrível!
Adquiri o livro da Pattie Boyd sem grandes expectativas e, curiosamente, ele chegou hoje, no dia 25 de fevereiro, coincidindo com o aniversário de George Harrison. Em poucas horas, mergulhei na leitura, sentindo como se fosse um sinal do destino haha! A narrativa é envolvente, divertida e cativante, transportando o leitor para os cenários glamorosos e excitantes que Pattie descreve com maestria.
É fácil idealizar e reverenciar nossos ídolos como seres perfeitos, mas Pattie Boyd habilmente nos apresenta o lado humano, real e nem tão glamuroso de George e Eric Clapton, bem como o seu próprio. Para quem está na dúvida sobre adquirir o livro, eu diria: vá em frente! Cada capítulo é uma jornada fascinante por histórias e experiências verdadeiramente interessantes.
- delamotte beurrééReviewed in Spain on November 21, 2024
5.0 out of 5 stars TOP
TOP
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NataliaReviewed in Mexico on January 9, 2020
5.0 out of 5 stars Excelente artículo
Viene en perfecto estado, excelente compra
Natalia
Reviewed in Mexico on January 9, 2020
Images in this review - David McIntyreReviewed in the United Kingdom on July 13, 2019
5.0 out of 5 stars A Fairy Tale and Greek Tragedy Combined.
I well remember as a nine year old standing in a long line of people waiting to get into the Cinema to watch a Hard Days Night,i only liked John Wayne war films and in truth could not make head nor tail of the film,my parents took me to London,Swinging London on week long holidays throughout the mid sixties,i asked if i could have a red Palace Guard red uniform jacket,i thought i would look really cool in one of those,my dad said yes so of we went to Carnaby street,none would fit as my dad no doubt knew in advance so i never did get to dress as a Palace Guard,I remember London of that time as being just as it is in the now aging films,very sunny,very safe and very nice night or day.This era is of course sinking back into history,the first world war has gone out of living memory the second rapidly doing the same,so the age of the invention of the teenager beginning in the 1950s to the revolution of the 1960s is moving onto the history stage.The reaction to the war in Vietnam coupled to the music and movements of the era did create a true revolution one that changed the world and was perhaps overdue,enough has survived to the present day to make a difference and nothing since has had anything like the effect not even Punk Rock.Pattie Boyd is part of that history,her book begins with her childhood a mix of happy and unhappiness common to most children i suppose regardless of class or wealth,moving to her appearance in the Beatle film in school uniform with another Girl who it is hard to find anything about other than her name and catching the eye of George Harrison is amusing and well told.Accusations of gold digging do not hold water as both she and her sister were well known models of the day and part of the Swinging London set (swinging in the current age has a different meaning) her marriage to George Harrison lasted considering the stresses involved for a long time,it was a true love and George comes over as a fine man with a good heart but beset as all the Beatles were to differing levels by what had happened to them,a well known American actor has said everyone should be rich and famous for a time so they can know it is not the answer.Her story covers the love triangle between her ,George and Eric Clapton is also well covered,Eric has since said that he did not truly love her,to me a man who wrights songs about a woman as he did is most certainly in love with her,Pattie became the wife of two very creative people and this is the Fairy Tale and Greek Tragedy,Eric has told his own story very truthfully,a man who has had great success and suffered tragedy that no human being should ever have to suffer,many people see them as sort of Gods but they are just people,in reading her book i got the feeling she loved maybe still does George and Eric,perhaps having fonder memories of George,at no point does she demonise anyone nor does she put herself on a pedestal.Happily today she leads a happy life and is a renowned photographer,appearing to have no bitterness for some of the bad fortune and hurt she has endured,something she has had a fair share of and not all down to the men who chased her and chase her they did,no she looks back at her life and celebrates the times she lived through and the people she got to mix with,if the book has one fault it is not enough Photographs although the ones included are very good,i wonder if she is aware that five decades on lots of girls on line show you how to do your make up the Pattie Boyd way or just want to look like her,more than a good read it is a fascinating insight into the lives of some of the most famous people of the day and how it was a bit different to what people may have thought,a Fairy Tale,Greek Tragedy and i think told from the heart.
One person found this helpfulReport - Anna St JamesReviewed in Australia on April 3, 2024
5.0 out of 5 stars Fascinating Read
An interesting read. I always loved George but not so sure now.