Whilst a home life living above a pub would not seem ideal for an elite student, this story proves that with the right support, you can achieve so much. One of the generation of working- and lower middle-class children for whom a post-war grammar school education was the key to unlocking a future far beyond what their parents and grandparents had ever been able to aspire to, his impact on the cultural life of the UK from the Sixties until now has been immeasurable.

The first thing to say is that this memoir is keenly drawn, but it is not restricted to a cinematic re-telling. What a memory Bragg has for names and faces; he can describe the new furniture in his parents’ living room as if it were all still there, waiting to be dusted by his indefatigable mum. Melvyn Bragg’s first ever memoir – an elegiac, intimate account of growing up in post-war Cumbria, which vividly evokes a vanished world. This has all the hallmarks of a frank and sincerely honest book; a pastiche of look-in-the mirror reflections; a series of early-life’s paradoxes and contradictions. Bragg is ten years my senior so his experiences of growing up in the war years, and being a teenager in the 50s were relatable, especially as my brothers were that much older than me.

And the description of his first real love, which we know cannot last beyond the end of the book, had me very close to tears. The story of Bragg himself is a very impressive one but the autobiography isn’t as good as the social history. This book took me back, as I am only a few years younger than the author, but born and raised in the City of Bristol, England. a fascinating and often moving portrait of a time, a place and a working-class boy who fell in love with words and made a distinguished career out of using them extremely well.

a balanced, honest picture’ Richard Benson, Mail on SundayIn this elegiac and heartfelt memoir, Melvyn Bragg recreates his youth in the Cumbrian market town of Wigton: a working-class boy who expected to leave school at fifteen yet who gained a scholarship to Oxford University; who happily roamed the streets and raided orchards with his gang of friends until a breakdown in adolescence drove him to find refuge in books. Finance is provided by PayPal Credit (a trading name of PayPal UK Ltd, Whittaker House, Whittaker Avenue, Richmond-Upon-Thames, Surrey, United Kingdom, TW9 1EH).This leading to an entrance exam and interview for Queens College, Oxford, with an offer for a scholarship after his National Service. It's a rare thing to read about, especially these days, and that made the story all the more valuable and enjoyable. His mother, Ethel, was illegitimate, fostered by “a Victorian matriarch” whom Bragg believed to be his grandmother until long after she died. I gradually realised my “grandmother” was not my grandmother, my “uncles” were not my uncles… I massively regret that I didn’t ask some of the older people, later on: what really happened? A charming account of a lost era, full of details and often lyrical descriptions of people and places .

The whole community took pride and pleasure in the author’s achievements and he gives us some insight into the challenge of “thinking” himself into the role of elite scholar. I really enjoyed this book particularly as I lived in Wigton for most of my early life (although it was in the 50's and 60's so some years after those in the book) and attended the same schools and knew many of the people and places described. What this means is that it is too easy for a beautiful turn or words, a truth, or comment to blend in to the flow.It ends with him winning a Scholarship to Oxford University ,but as he so eloquently points out he had to go but he never left his home town of Wigton . This memoir leaves us just as the author has been accepted into Oxford University, so I imagine there will be another couple of volumes and I look forward to reading them. Safe because it was his playground, and dangerous because its streets and pubs contained a threat of direct violence; the pressure created on the growing child by constant fear of brawls downstairs in the pub where his parents were landlords played a role in the mental disturbances in his teenage years that Melvyn revealingly documents here. The notion even of Workington – a nearby town to which his parents at one point threaten to move – fills him with horror.

I have always been aware of his fame and popularity in our little town but not untill I read / listened to this do I feel I really know him as a man . just touching the 50s but no memories beyond a couple of photographs of me in an enormous pram outside our front door) and its a gem.You can certainly hear it: darts hitting a board, a parkie (Bragg’s grandfather was one) shouting at disobedient boys, a choir belting out a hymn. He was often moved to tears in his narration when reflecting and retelling certain special moments and I too wept as I listened . When my brother and I went to stay with my mother's parents, there was an outside lavatory and the toilet paper was newspaper cut into squares.