Stephen Fry in a Hurry

TITLE: Stephen Fry in America
AUTHOR: Stephen Fry
PUBLISHER: HarperCollins

RATING
5/5 "California Girls"; 4/5 "New York, New York"; 3/5 "Meet Me in St. Louis"; 2/5 "Mississippi Queen"; 1/5 "Waking up in Las Vegas"
SCORE: 2/5

I should have known better than to buy a TV series tie-in, but come on, I thought, it's Stephen "A Bit of Fry and Laurie, not to mention some bits of Blackadder" Fry. Surely, it will be worth a chuckle or two.

Alas, as Fry himself has said, "As private parts to the gods are we. They play with us for their sport."

The premise is simple enough: Englishman tours the 50 states, and discovers Americans are not all that bad. The book is structured as a travelogue, recording Stephen's adventures along his journeys. Each state gets its own chapter, preceeded by a list of "Key Facts" such as the State Capital, Motto and/or Neckwear (Arizona: Bolo tie). Very democratic and even-handed, but it does mean that when crammed into the space of 300 pages, each state gets an average of roughly six pages. Well, five, less the Key Facts.

Depth then is somewhat lacking. Each state is reduced to one or two encounters with assorted billionaires, entrepreneurs, hillbillies, indians, stoners, witches and zulus. Delware is passed through without stopping. Stephen gets no further than the state line of Idaho before zipping off to Wyoming. Of course, length is no guarantee of quality, but so much of Stephen's prose is filled with the banal, "I couldn't be happier" (Montana), "I enjoyed myself here as much as I have anywhere" (South Dakota), "I decide that I like the South" (South Carolina).

All this would be less disappointing if it was delivered with a bit more wit. Stephen, however, apparently had other ideas, and plays it straight (badda-bing) for most of the book. Stephen's prose is good, solid, readable stuff, but it rarely shines. There is the odd sally that raises a smile, but for the most part Stephen has decided it is more important to be earnest. Indeed, the book's simplicity of spirit is almost... well... American.

Not a bad book then, simply less than I had hoped for.