Just Me

Sheila Hancock

Allen & Unwin

Otago Daily Times, January 21st 2009

Given the rise of individualism, celebrity watching and reality TV, it is not surprising that everybody from Charlotte Church to Cheeta has put out an autobiography in recent years.  The trouble is that two key components; an interesting life and an ability to write, are often missing.  If present, however, there is no single prescription for a successful memoir, as Barbara Anderson and Sheila Hancock demonstrate in two new autobiographies

In direct contrast to Barbara Anderson’s comprehensive memoir (reviewed elsewhere), Sheila Hancock’s Just Me, covers only the first few years after her husband, John (Inspector Morse) Thaw’s death.  Although a well-respected actor in her own right, she is used to thinking of herself in relation to him, and the only way to let him go is to discover how to be alone.  Travell and work seem to be the best way to do this, and chapters are headed with the various towns and cities she visits during this time. 

A trip to Budapest and the role of Fraulein Schneider in Cabaret adds an additional layer of self-exploration because her experiences as a child of WWII have left a reflexive antipathy against the German people.  Recognising this is a shock to this self-described “Guardian-reading liberal” and becomes a second, unexpected ghost she is determined to exorcise. 

Perhaps because of her acting background, Hancock is as extroverted as Anderson is reserved, and “Just Me” is as much a work of self-revelation as it is a record of events.   Whether complaining about the invisibility of the old, being arrested at Bangkok airport, or re-examining childhood memories of the Blitz, it feels just like you are sitting and talking to this delightful woman in real-time. Bright, exuberant, funny and self-reflective, she muses on war, love, art, age, and the shortcomings of guided tours.   I can’t think of a better travelling companion.