England Is Mine: the making of Morrissey, or a portrait of the artist as a young wimp? -Tracey Thorn

England Is Mine: the making of Morrissey, or a portrait of the artist as a young wimp? - New Statesman
By Tracey Thorn.
(of Everything But The Girl fame).

Excerpt:

"It is with some trepidation that I write about the new Morrissey biopic, England Is Mine, knowing that it’s not hard to say the wrong thing about Morrissey and fall foul either of his lawyers or his legions of still-adoring fans. Journalists have come a cropper and even I, after a throwaway remark* made donkey’s years ago, found myself added to the list of scores that had to be settled in his recent Autobiography, a book that reminded me of nothing so much as Father Ted’s Golden Cleric acceptance speech: “And now we move on to liars…”

Regards,
FWD.

* = Tracey is referring to:
"I am criticized by singer Tracey Thorn for ‘singing about people in wheelchairs’, and John Peel opens his radio show by playing the song in full, and once it dies away he breaks the silence with: ‘Well, what do you think of that, then?’ as if a roasting on an open fire is all that will cure me." - from Autobiography.

 

[Anonymous]

"For what will be the second time, I floor Leslie, he all bluff and little-man threats, yet soft to the touch in the heel of the hammerlock. I do not know where my uppercuts come from, but there they are, an orbit of finishing blows rising from somewhere deep within, overtaking the final push that panics the body into do-or-die strength. It is a vigorous high, but it is not my sphere, and nor do I want it."

"I catch sight of Margaret, who is in my class at St Wilfrid’s and who has a red birth mark on her right cheek, and I wave a wave that she returns, but the brimstoned boy that she is with rockets towards me and lands me an upper-cut so fierce that I am unable to see for a full minute. When my senses return, I am voluntarily rescued by Billy O’Shea, who is also from my class and who whomps the boy with a swing that I am assumed unable to deliver. Smiling Billy returns this duty some weeks later at school when I find myself singled out for a ferocious whack in the yard. As a blow lands, I fall, and from nowhere Billy O’Shea shazzams and rips the head off the ass-backwards assailant. And the world turns."

"The knowing grin was a bolt of lightning in ancient walks through pulpy words, or amid the annoying white noise of Los Angeles, where one night we are confronted by an aggressor. Jake's fists move too quickly for the eye to follow, and the mugger drops."

???
'pulpy words' 'brimstoned boy who rockets towards me' (likely a fantasy) ' i am voluntarily rescued by
Billy O'Shea' (probably an imaginary boyfriend) 'singled out for a ferocious WHACK IN THE YARD'
"WE are confronted by an aggressor".
Wimpy?????? This shit is fing gay. Super gay.