Auto da Fay
Fay Weldon, one of the pre-eminent writers of our times, has crammed more than most into her years. From the 1930s to the 2000s, Weldon has seen and lived it all. As a child in New Zealand, as young and poor in London, as unmarried mother, as wife, lover, playwright, novelist, feminist, anit-feminist, spag-bol-cook, winer-and-diner, there are few waterfronts that she hasn’t covered, few battles she hasn’t fought.
Bought up by women – her intrepid mother, grandmother and sister – men were a mystery until 1960s London introduced her to the louche, the hopeless, and the golden-footed. A central figure among the Bohemian writers, artists, thinker and poets of the sixties, she has maintained this unique position through four turbulent decades. An icon to many, a thorn-in-the-flesh to others, she has never failed to excite, madden, or interest. Her life and times cover love, sex, babies, blokes, poverty, work, politics, and not a few Very Famous Names.
Moving from New Zealand to London to Scotland, from the UK to points east and west, Weldon has by turns relished, rejected, and often defined the way of life that makes us what we are today.