Warren Lakin

Was it not Rene Magritte, the Belgian surrealist painter, who always appeared immaculately dressed in a business suit? His reasoning being that people expected an artist to wear a hooped jumper and beret but, his sartorial elegance enhanced the anarchic image surrounding himself.
I mention this because I have always felt much the same about Linda Smith: she was a favourite of Radio 4 and, when she spoke, one often felt that she could not possibly understand just how reactionary her utterings were but, of course, one secretly knew that she did. This was part of the fun: less witty people missed the searing that they were receiving from the delicate, but barbed tongue. Linda was a complex mixture of contradictions; an imancipated woman, very much at home in the late twentieth century but, at the same time, one who declined the dubious pleasure of owning a mobile telephone or a computer and insisted that tea be made in a pot from leaves.
This book, in a modest 320 pages manages to be a biography, a eulogy and a delightful read. The love that Warren Lakin felt for Linda drips off of every page and yet, he manages to walk the tightrope between love and a syrupy lyturgy.
For those who do not know the work of Linda Smith, shame on you. She was amongst the early group of British stand up commediennes who were genuinely funny. Before Linda, it was accepted that women just weren't able to do stand up as well as men. After Linda, it was no longer an issue. Unfortunately, she died too young and we are left to mourn, not just the passing of an intelligent commedienne, but also the tranche of great comedy and social comment that she would undoubtedly have produced: perhaps that is just being greedy, there may be little of her work remaing, but the quality makes up for a lack of quantity.… (más)