Angela tassoni
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AN EXTRAORDINARY AND HEARTFELT ACCOUNT OF GROWING UP IN A FAMOUS BUT DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY
This beautifully produced memoir, featuring more than twenty of Alexander’s own artworks, gives a clear-eyed, unsentimental insight into a legendary acting family and Hollywood’s golden age
Born with a famous name to an unhappy marriage, Alexander Newley is the son of the Hollywood stars Joan Collins and Anthony Newley. Their life was one of almost unparalleled privilege and glamour but under the glossy veneer there was trouble: infidelity, insecurity and emotional trauma.
This book, written with humour and compassion, tells the story of Alexander’s nomadic childhood; the disintegration of his parents’ marriage; and his battle to make sense of the past. It is also a meditation on art, identity and inheritance, and a portrait of London and Hollywood during the swinging sixties and the seventies. Complementing Alexander’s vivid and razor-sharp prose are more than twenty of his own artworks depicting the people who played a pivotal role in his early years.
Alexander Newley is a l
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Unaccompanied minor : a memoir
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Hollywood Hell: Unaccompanied Minor By Alexander Newley, reviewed by Roger Lewis
'Not for the first time, I reach the conclusion that artists should take vows of celibacy – they should only be allowed to wreck their own lives.'
Brought up in luxury in Beverly Hills, Mayfair and the South of France, Alexander ‘Sacha’ Newley, the son of the late Anthony Newley and Dame Joan Collins, remains limitlessly ungrateful.
Despite being given his own mini-garage ‘stocked with pedal cars and tricycles’, and growing up in mansions with blue pools where the neighbours, including James Caan and Steve McQueen, disported themselves, our author, born in 1965, is aggrieved. His father wasn’t genuinely generous; he only ‘showered us with gifts to fill the void in himself’. His mother, meanwhile, was ‘the alpha Jezebel... Conspicuous absence. Tense presence.’
If Sacha and Joan didn’t get along, that was entirely and continuously Joan’s fault. She was an ice queen who was always off to parties dressed in knee-high white boots and bangle earrings: ‘Although I longed for affection, I could only mi
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