I first read actor David Niven’s memoir, The Moon’s a Balloon, published in 1971, back in the mid-1970s. It was the first “adult” book that I read. It was adult, in the sense that parts of it were somewhat naughty. Other than that, it was a book of stories that were easy to read. It arguably provided a blueprint for others to follow.
I came across the book when I saw it on the bookshelf of a neighbour of mine, an elderly lady by the name of Violet. She had an extensive book collection, and would allow me to pick one occasionally to take home and read.
Having chosen a book, I would have to give it to her for approval.
“What have you chosen today?” She would ask.
On this day, I handed over The Moon’s a Balloon, a paperback with a somewhat ordinary cover showing David Niven, with four balloons above his head. Each one containing a word of the book title. As book covers go, it didn’t look like one that would sell millions of copies.
Violet put her reading glasses on. “Ah! David Niven, the old Hollywood charmer. It’s not written for children, but you are probably old enough to read it.” And she was right. Niven had a reputation for being a charmer, a true charming man.
Like a librarian, she passed the book to me. “Look after it, and use a bookmark; I don’t want to see any folded corners on the pages.”
I never folded corners anyway.
But back to the naughtiness.
