A new biography of Ken Dodd, the first to be published since his death, has just come out, and it's a good 'un: streets, if not whole counties, ahead of the book by Steven Griffin published in Dodd's lifetime, cheekily entitled Ken Dodd: the Biography.
Griffin's book passes the time agreeably enough but the author doesn't have a compelling enough individual style to compensate for the lack of direct access to his subject. There isn't the sparkle of a John Fisher (Funny Way to Be a Hero, which includes a portrait of Dodd) or the meticulous research of a Graham McCann (especially in his book on Frankie Howerd). There are some insights from sympathetic interviewees like Roy Hudd but also pointless soundbites from celebrities (Anne Widdecombe?!) which didn't offer much or were quoted too briefly to be of use; Bob Monkhouse - not, in my view, a natural comic but one who undoubtedly understood and appreciated those who were - is the notable exception.
Griffin does offer chapter and verse on the tax trial, which earlier books obviously couldn't do, but overall there is little sense of, or even speculation about, the comedian's inner life; in his introduction to the book, as though in acknowledgement of its limitations, he regrets the fact that Dodd hasn't shared his own insights and can only hope he may do so one day.
Happiness and Tears, the new book by Louis Barfe, was commissioned after Ken Dodd's death so he has no additional advantages over the earlier biographer, no personal interviews with the great man to draw on, but he does a far better job than Griffin for several reasons. One is in the choice of interviewees: Anne Widdecombe doesn't get a look in but "Diddy" David Hamilton does, as do several others who worked closely with the comic. Barfe recognises that Dodd had a stock series of responses employed in interviews, but he talks to the people behind the Arena programme, whose constant presence around the comic during filming led to some less guarded moments.
Another key reason the book works so well is the sense of balance: in a nutshell, Dodd comes over as a man prone to meanness in professional matters but enormously generous with his time, and more than willing to pass on all he has learnt, provided the aspirant comedian appreciates what he is being given. We are given the testimony of a drummer who rejects the offer of a job with a show because he learns Ken will be offering him thirty pounds less than the Musicians' Union rate, but that comes only after his fulsome praise for Dodd has been noted. Similarly, it's common knowledge that Eddie Braben split with Dodd over a disagreement about money but more details are provided here (Dodd was given a substantial increase for a show which he chose not to pass on to his writer) and Barfe makes the point that the two understood each other so well that this was a real error of judgement on the comedian's part. It's tempting to wonder whether his TV career might have fared a little better with Braben still in tow.
Additionally, the research on display here is painstaking. Dodd often referred in interviews to seeing an advert for a ventriloquial device in a comic - but who else would have bothered to find what may have been the very issue which steered him towards a life in showbiz?
Most of all, however, you simply feel that Louis Barfe gets it: understands this world and why, despite his personal failings, Ken Dodd is and will remain such an important figure - and that his death is, in a sense, the final death knell of variety.
The book isn't that long, and a fair proportion of it is devoted to a "Doddology": a listing of live shows up until 1960, and TV and radio shows until the end of his life. But that is understandable: the occasions when Dodd diversified into acting or other activities were rare, and the bulk of his stage act remained substantially the same over the years, so in a sense there isn't that much to report. When I worked with Freddie Davies on Funny Bones (to which Ken Dodd generously contributed an introduction) there were three or four careers (at least) to draw on, not to mention a potted biography of his comedian grandfather as a final flourish. But in Happiness and Tears the interest never flags, and Barfe is to be congratulated on writing as good a biography as one might reasonably expect of a subject who shied away from revealing his private self in public. It's written with warmth and understanding, and unless some gamechanging cache of confessional recordings or journals comes to light I suspect it may be prove to be the final word.
I did have my own personal post-show audience with Ken Dodd once, during which he said that he didn't want anything written about him "which might harm comedy". I don't know how he'd feel about Louis Barfe's book - especially as a recurrent theme is that he always liked to be in control - but for the rest of us I reckon it will do admirably. I referred earlier to a comment of Bob Monkhouse's in Steven Griffin's book. It is also reproduced towards the end of Barfe's volume - unsurprisingly, because it could stand as a justification for any biographer's approach to this particular subject. Monkhouse declared that for Dodd "everything offstage is an interval", and that Dodd the person is of less interest than the "clever, spinning Dervish of a madman that he has invested with life" when performing.
Find out more about Funny Bones, the book what I wrote with Freddie Davies, in a dedicated website here.
Not mentioned above, Eric Midwinter's 1979 book Make 'Em Laugh includes a substantial original interview with Dodd. Like the lately retired Michael Billington's How Tickled I Am it's out of print but fairly easy to obtain.
