PETER ACKROYD is the author of London: The Biography, Albion: The Origins of the English Imagination, Shakespeare: The Biography, and Thames: The Biography. He has written acclaimed biographies of T.S. Eliot, Dickens, Blake, and Sir Thomas More as well as several successful novels. He has won the Whitbread Book Award for Biography, the Royal Society of Literature's William Heinemann Award, the James Tait Black Memorial Prize, the Guardian Fiction Prize, the Somerset Maugham Award, and the South Bank Award for Literature.
"Quietly enthralling ... Ackroyd’s coolly perceptive literary style
and equally devastatingly effective observations suggest that he
doesn’t care a fig about pleasing geeks or fans or anyone
else."
—The New York Times Book Review
"[A] pungent, evocative biography ... Great artist, petty
tyrant—Ackroyd does justice to Chaplin in all his aspects, with a
biographer’s precision and a novelist’s detachment. His heart is
sympathetic, and his achievement is to stir our great wonder at the
once-upon-a-time existence and uncanny achievement of one unique,
damaged, brilliant soul."
—San Francisco Chronicle
"Ackroyd's writing is masterful—elegant, pitch-perfect, a pleasure
to read—and his timing is as impeccable as Bob Hope's ... Chaplin
[is a] small gem."
—The Plain Dealer (Cleveland)
"Ackroyd rewards his readers with a tale fit for a Chaplin film,
featuring humor, tragedy and a poignant fade-out."
—Associated Press
"A gem of book. If Ackroyd has an edge on the scores of authors who
have written about Chaplin, it’s that he probably knows more about
London than anyone alive. Ackroyd puts that knowledge of and feel
for London to good use in describing Chaplin’s difficult early
years—when he was fatherless, even motherless at times when she was
confined to an asylum. Those years were the source of Chaplin’s
artistic genius and of his unquenchable drive for wealth and power
... Ackroyd deftly defines the differences between the lovable
tramp that Chaplin portrayed on screen and the difficult-to-love
character he was in real life."
—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
"[Ackroyd] deftly navigates the myriad facets of his
subject."
—The Columbus Dispatch
"In his typically elegant and measured prose, prize-winning
biographer Ackroyd brilliantly brings Chaplin to life ...
Ackroyd’s book introduces the Little Tramp in such a charming and
candid fashion that it will drive movie buffs to watch Chaplin on
screen once again."
—Publishers Weekly, starred review
"Ackroyd exposes the hidden truths in Chaplin's life that help us
to understand the artist both personally and professionally. An
exceptional read."
—Library Journal
"Detailed yet breezy, full of sharp insights into Chaplin’s public
and private personas ... Expect plenty of interest in this fine
biography."
—Booklist, starred review
"The opening sentences alert readers to settle in and have a good
time ... There is plenty of color here."
—The Weekly Standard
"[Ackroyd's] account of Chaplin’s difficult early life in the slums
of London is evocative and moving, detailing the many deprivations
suffered by the young Charlie ... A comprehensive look at Chaplin
the man."
—Kirkus Reviews
“Chaplin's rise makes an enthralling story, and it’s one perfectly
suited to Peter Ackroyd’s prodigious and idiosyncratic talents ...
Ackroyd acknowledges Chaplin’s many human failings, while at the
same time giving us a vivid sense of what made the man a
genius.”
—The Telegraph
“[A] fine biography ... The luxury of a short book about a vast
life cannot be overestimated.”
—Financial Times
“Ackroyd has turned in the best account of Chaplin’s formation
beneath the teetering chimney stacks of Victorian London, fragrant
with the odours of dung, smoke and beer ... Ackroyd is just the man
to puncture the whoppers with which Chaplin embroidered his past,
without being too much of a scold.”
—New Statesman
“Ackroyd brings a novelist’s as well as a biographer’s eye to the
story of a man who ‘seemed to epitomise the human condition itself,
flawed and frail and funny.’”
—The Independent
“Compact, engrossing, intelligent.”
—The Sunday Times (London)
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