While they’re the lifeblood of the publishing industry, not all celebrity memoirs are created equal. For every David Niven, sparkling and poignant, there is Alan Shearer’s famous confession that he celebrated a championship win by creosoting his fence. Sadly, not a euphemism.
Throwing his hat into the ring is comedian Rhys James. Not even close to his 40th birthday, James already has a stand-up career to envy. After sell-out international tours and regular TV appearances, a book deal was inevitable. For You’ll Like it When You Get There: A Life Lived Reluctantly, James taps not into his successes, but his failures. A self-proclaimed “introvert’s manifesto”, James examines his dread of doing things.
Social activities. Exotic holidays. Career-defining gigs only prevented by the comedy club in question going up in flames. James turns avoidance and evasion into an art form. If you’ve ever rejoiced in cancelled plans, You’ll Like It When You Get There will definitely resonate. Through his life story, James explores his regrets, and whether his Mum is actually right, and he will like it when he gets there.
The book’s central premise, however, rapidly becomes its central problem. While the press release states that You’ll Like It is part-memoir, part-essay collection, this lack of focus is what makes reading the book a frustrating experience. A decision needed to be made, at an editorial level, as to which way the book was going to lean. As the book moves between memoir and more essayistic passages, not fully committing to either, it undermines James’ gift for storytelling.
His pinpoint-precise observations on societal norms are thoroughly enjoyable, but the reader has to dig through bulky prose to get there, no pun intended. This is not James’ fault: when it comes to celebrity books, the bar on writing quality is set pretty low (we can’t all be Rupert Everett), but James’ unfussy style comfortably elevates him.
The parts of the book where he delves into his past are easily the most successful. Schoolboy pranks, noisy neighbours, an ill-advised excursion to Kavos: James’s ability to laugh at himself, at his own discomfort, is a refreshing antidote to every self-aggrandising memoir you may have had the misfortune to read. As any good publisher knows, if sex sells, humiliation is a close second.
The issues with this book lie squarely with its identity crisis: a fully-fledged memoir would have been the way forward, as James is clearly fine with letting us into the darkest, and funniest, recesses of his life. The flashes of lightning-quick humour are enough to propel you through, but You’ll Like It When You Get There doesn’t reward the reader. It’s not quite a guide to millennial dread, not a celebrity tell-all. Anyone wanting Mock The Week gossip will be disappointed.
You’ll Like It never quite hits its stride, which is a shame because a book stuffed with James’ comedic asides and undercuts would have been quite delicious.
Published by Wildfire and available from 14 August 2025
