Rupert Everett

Rupert Everett's first memoir - Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins - was an international bestseller and an instant classic on publication in 2006. Reviewers compared him to Evelyn Waugh, David Niven, Noel Coward and Lord Byron. But Rupert Everett is - of course - one of a kind. Mischievous, touching and nothing less than brilliant, this new memoir is filled with stories, from childhood to the present. Astonishing encounters; tragedy and comedy; vivid portraits of friends and rivals; razor-sharp observations of the celebrity circus from LA to London and beyond... there is something extraordinary on every page. A pilgrimage to Lourdes with his father is both hilarious and moving. A misguided step into reality TV goes horribly wrong. From New York to Moscow to Berlin to Phnom Penh, Vanished Years takes the reader on a wild and wonderful new journey with a charming (and rather disreputable) companion.

Vanished Years

A fascinating, witty, and endlessly entertaining memoir that tells the whole truth about show business Reviews of Rupert Everett's first memoir, Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins, compared him to Evelyn Waugh, David Niven, Noel Coward, and Lord Byron. But Rupert Everett is—of course—one of a kind. Mischievous, touching, and nothing less than brilliant, this new memoir is filled with brand-new stories, from childhood to the present. Astonishing encounters, tragedy and comedy, vivid portraits of friends and rivals, razor-sharp observations of the celebrity circus from Los Angeles to London and beyond, there is something extraordinary on every page. A pilgrimage to Lourdes with his father is both hilarious and moving. A misguided step into reality TV goes horribly wrong. From New York to Moscow to Berlin to Phnom Penh, this memoir takes the reader on a wild and wonderful new journey with a charming—and rather disreputable—companion.

Ed Kay

Sorry, Rupert. Your writing is indeed as beautiful as the cover reviewers implied, but the content of your narrative was not as awash with catty tales of celebrity and excess as I'd hoped. I was hoping for gossip and filth, insights and snark and dismissal of ego. Sure, you've clearly had an interesting life, but I don't like you enough to want to hear about it.