Making it So, by Patrick Stewart
Latent Book Club Review #2408
The Latent Book Club examines Patrick Stewart’s surprisingly honest, perspicacious memoir which charts his origins from Yorkshire lad, to Hollywood celebrity with refreshing humility.
Permit me, in a departure from the usual way in which The Latent Book Club is written, to slip into the first person here. Because - Sir Patrick Stewart has long been an icon of ours and, well, mine specifically. Stewart, like me, came from West Yorkshire.
His was a humble background, one he describes in his excellent memoir, Making it So, as a ‘Victorian childhood’. When he was a lad, the streets were still gas lit (he remembers the lamplighters coming around nightly) and the Police were as quick to threaten to knock ‘the fuck’ out of you as offer assistance. Times have changed, certainly, but traces of Stewart’s reflection of his humble origins can still be observed for oneself in towns like Mirfield, Batley and beyond. And for that reason, they are remarkably fresh on the page.
If you have tears, as Stewart no doubt would say in a rendition of Julius Caesar — prepare to shed them as his autobiography develops. He recounts a warm, loving childhood in the familial embrace of his mother and brother Trevor (the points during which these two individuals die in this memoir is very painful, on both Stewart and his audience) but overshadowed by an alcoholic tyrant of a father.
Unfortunately (not to mention accurately) the book does not present stalwart Yorkshire types very well. For all their endearing qualities, humble Yorkshire folk can be jealous of anyone who dares get above their station, are quick to tear down others, to promote ani-intellectualism, and and above all, eschew self-criticism. Indeed, a popular local rhyme is: Yorkshire born / Yorkshire bred / Strong in t’ arm / And thick in t’ head. Funny perhaps, but there is nonetheless a cultural trope on display here. And nowhere does this show more, with greater danger, than when they face humiliation.
Stewart’s father is a particular example - vain, arrogant, niggled by insecurity and prone to violence, he comes across poorly indeed in this treatment. Renown during the war, he returns to Yorkshire with little skills or trade. His bravery is no good anymore, and he takes this loss in station out on his wife and sons with a barbarity which is painful to read, or to listen to. As the Stewart children get older they regard it as their duty to intercede, to prevent ‘mam’ from another belting.
This sets Patrick up for a stifled, loveless, strange relationship with his father - a man who he still seeks to impress, despite his tyrannical qualities. Not for nothing does Stewart support the domestic violence charity, Refuge.
A further word about his relationship with his father. As age affects Patrick and his parents, a mellowing is noted in their relationship. The father is still, sadly, without many kindly words for his son, but Patrick’s desire to please his parents, and make his dad proud, remains a feature of his life.
His early ‘school of hard knocks’ was the first of many for Patrick, and in the long run may have even served to build the resilience he needed to establish himself as an actor. There is little doubt, reading his memoir, that his Yorkshire background may have been charming, but was a handicap in the arts; one of his many tasks being ridding himself of ‘that accent’, as well as the psychological parochial underminings he faced (‘what if I fail? What if I look stupid?) which were borne out of an anxiety inculcated by his Yorkshire peers.
Stewart’s passion for the theatre wasn’t immediately obvious, even to him. But his regular associations with amateur theatrics started a desire in him, not to merely obtain a ‘job’, but to commit himself to the stage. There was not a lot of opportunity on offer for budding thespians in Yorkshire, particularly not in the post-war era. But a rare combination of recognition of his talent and desire by his teachers, one or two serendipitous incidents, and good contacts (including with a young Brian Blessed) enabled him to escape Yorkshire through a combination of perseverance and luck. Stewart got his dream theatre education with a Scholarship at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School; something which would have been unaffordable to him were it not for this.
His time at the renown Old Vic established him successfully to audition and be welcomed into the world famous Royal Shakespeare Company, where he remained a member for sixteen years. His love for the Bard is is clear, and he channeled his Shakespearean chops into many of his future roles. Indeed, from the quotations and references in Making it So, the reader can be left in little doubt that Shakespeare truly changed his life, and even, to a certain extent, came to define his relationship with his parents. In fact this book is in many ways a homage to the Bard, one that was published contemporaneously with Dame Judi Dench’s memoir, in which Shakespeare is the subject, The Man who Pays the Rent - it is hard to see this synchronicity in publication as mere coincidence.
It was, of course, in his lead role as Star Trek the Next Generation’s Captain Jean Luc Picard that Stewart shot to world fame. In fact when he got the role in the late 80s, well into his 40s at this point, he thought his acting career might have already reached its peak. And he nearly didn’t: by his own telling, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry was no fan of Stewart, he missed the call to find out that he had got the role, and he only got the audition (to which they asked him to bring a hairpiece!) in the first place because he was touring America as a friend of an academic and putting on vignettes and talks about Shakespeare.
Star Trek itself doesn’t play as large a role in this autobiography as Trek fans may wish, and if you’re coming to it looking for significant insights into the series, you may well be disappointed. Indeed, for a book which borrows the title of Picard’s famous saying, there is surprisingly little Star Trek inside it. Instead, you get some idea of production, but more about the colleagues Stewart works with along away - for whom he is full of love, notably for actors Frakes, Spiner, Dorn, Burton, Sirtis and McFadden. These pranksters, and tormentors of his brought Stewart back down to earth, something he now admits he sorely needed, as he was too uptight in the first season of the show.
One surprising aspect regarding Star Trek was how much ‘old Hollywood’ still existed in the early seasons of the show, the stars repairing to a local watering hole regularly after shooting that had echoes of the golden age of Hollywood attached to it. Also surprising was Stewart’s insistence at prior to the concluding season of The Next Generation that he was done with his Star Trek persona, even though the series could have been renewed for several more seasons. Then, of course, he would pick up the character again in Star Trek Picard - this time insisting it wouldn’t be a mere The Next Generation reunion - an insistence that came to little as we know, particularly in the show’s third and final series. One does wonder if this is the last time we will see Picard on the screen, but a hinted at move within the book suggests otherwise.
Stewart still looks decidedly healthy in his early 80s. His passion for sport (he was once a promising young boxer) and keeping fit has no doubt helped him in that regard. He was not immune from streaks of self-destruction, turning to alcohol at times, but has always kept himself relatively fit, something he prided himself in in his various shirtless and skintight-costume clad roles. His commitment to his work came at significant personal cost - the more he put into his roles, the less time he had for family, and this came to significantly hurt his relationships.
Outside Star Trek there were some surprises on offer. Surprising was Stewart’s startling level of naïveté that seems to have been a constant feature of his life. Inquisitive, curious Patrick would no doubt have been set apart from his peers. He describes, for instance, taking his books to the communal toilets for the houses on his street as there was a light there, therefore he could read in the only place he could be assured of privacy. Later, he meets the already famous Sting, and asks him who he plays for. When he says he is a bassist for ‘The Police’, Stewart thinks he is talking about a band within the police force. When he gets his fateful role on Star Trek, he admits he was barely cognisant of the show. Cerebral, certainly (he loves his classical music, his literature, and Shakespeare, notably) Stewart remained startlingly unplugged from popular culture in a way that resonated with this particular reader at least.
Surprising too was Stewart’s acceptence of some things supernatural. Playing space captain, we often associate Stewart with sci-fi hyperrationalism. But this is not the case. He claims to have an affinity for the supernatural, from projecting an ‘aura’, to seeing mists around paintings, and perhaps most startlingly (although not, in his retelling, particularly disturbingly) hearing his beloved late mother speak to him.
Another surprise came in the form of the candor on offer. Stewart tells about his two failed marriages - failures that come across as sincere regrets. One gets the sense that his mea culpas regarding them, and other aspects of his life are heartfelt - somewhat honourable (despite his infidelities) and sincerely apologetic in tone. He still displays genuine curiosity about these relationships, dissecting them and their fallout with what appears to be genuine introspection and contrition, particularly in regards to how they have affected his relationships with his children.
As the book concludes, Stewart reflects on many of his relationships. A memorable moment was him rushing to see his dying and beloved brother Trevor one last time. He laments his relationships with his children, and the difficulty he has inflicted on others. Despite his success - and evident peace - his is not the unreflective life, but that of a man with feet of clay, who has admitted mistakes, and has learnt to a degree to live with them.
In Making it So, there is a lot of joy on offer - and in conclusion, permit me, for a moment, to again to the first person mode. My personal joy in this book came from hearing about the man that became a success in the places I grew up. I heard about places I too had visited, and learnt that even for a time, we even worked at the same newspaper. This was joyous. This book illustrates clearly that Stewart’s success really depended upon him forsaking a familiar but ultimately constraining home for something larger. On that journey, several painful lessons awaited, and one can learn much from Stewart’s report from the road.
But more largely, he - Stewart - is a reminder that one can transcend one’s parochial background should we choose. He is inspirational in that regard. This is a wonderful book.
Before you ‘Boldly Go….’
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Ann Tyler’s cosily familial Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant
Jane Austen’s incomparable Pride and Prejudice
Iris Murdoch’s triangular The Bell
Henry James’ Gothic Horror Classic, The Turn of The Screw
John Updike’s tale of selfishness, dissolution and frustration, Rabbit, Run
Joseph Heller’s masterwork novel Catch-22
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