I'm about half way through, and I think it is a cracking read. Morrissey can write and is hilariously funny too. There have been a number of times where I have laughed at the way he has told a story or phrased something in a way only Morrissey would. You know most sprinters can't run a long distance race effectively, but Morrissey more than holds his own in being able to write a book. I try to avoid reading anything that doesn't interest me, but you know most books are shit. This is not a shit book, it's a genuinely well written book. Morrissey's depiction of his childhood is particularly strong. If anything it's much more Dickens than Wilde. Though I do love how he will use certain words which might well go over the heads of many modern readers. Using the term 'psychological' as a reason for avoiding the cane is an obvious reference to homosexuality in the Victorian usage of the term and it is noticing arch little things like that you yourself raise an eyebrow. Morrissey is too literate for this pop-star autobiography business. It's good, though I hear the court case at the end lowers it all slightly with 50 pages of moaning. I will be the judge of that. I mean the judge of the 50 pages, not the actual court case, which is long in the past in the minds of all but Morrissey himself.