Summary of Making It So a Memoir by Patrick Stewart

By Willie M. Joseph

DISCLAIMER

 

This book does not in any capacity mean to replace the original book but to serve as a vast summary of the original book.

Summary of Making It So a Memoir by Patrick Stewart

IN THIS SUMMARIZED BOOK, YOU WILL GET:

• Chapter astute outline of the main contents.
• Fast & simple understanding of the content analysis.
• Exceptionally summarized content that you may skip in the original book

 

Sir Patrick Stewart's memoir, Making It So, offers a detailed account of his life from humble beginnings in Yorkshire to Hollywood success, showcasing his extraordinary talent and enduring legacy. His life is as exuberant and definitive as the author himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Willie M. Joseph
• Release date: Oct 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223803607

Willie M. Joseph

Willie M. Joseph summaries get straight to the point and provide essential tools to help you be an informed reader in a busy world, whether you’re browsing for new discoveries, managing your to-read list for work or school, or simply deepening your knowledge. Available for nonfiction titles, these are the book summaries that are worth your time.  

Book preview

Chapter One

In the working-class corner of Northern England, the author grew up in a small town called Mireld, which was known for its small and austere houses. The name Camm Lane and Towngate were a mystery to the community, as they were referred to as Habitational. The author's hometown, Mireld, was located in the West Riding of Yorkshire, the largest county in the United Kingdom. The North of England was similar to the industrial Rust Belt in the United States, with distinct cultures and attitudes.

During his childhood, Mireld had a population of around nine thousand, with several weaving sheds along the river. The local economy was agricultural, with farms growing corn, wheat, brussels sprouts, and kale. The author's refuge was in T'bottomeld, which was reserved for occasional use by grazing cattle and sheep. The grass in the area grew tall, and the author enjoyed lying on his back among the grass and watching clouds drift across the sky.

The author had many ying dreams, which he loved, but never went above the clouds in these dreams. His mother's midwife decided that he was not yet ready to appear and declared that she was going to a movie matinee at the Vale Cinema. The author's mother refused to let the midwife enjoy her movie until the end, and the author's mother patiently waited for her to return.

The author's mother and mother held onto their dreams, and the midwife arrived in time for him to be ready for his close-up role.

The author grew up with a father named Pat, who was a formidable man who served in India during the 1920s and 1930s. He was a founding member of the British Army's Parachute Regiment, and his age was used as a recruiting tool. The author's father explained that soldiers in the Airborne Divisions were outstanding fighters, and that they became fearless after jumping out of planes.

The author promised themselves to become a parachutist, but it hasn't happened. Recently, an 80-year-old grandmother jumped out of a plane while tethered to an experienced parachutist, and she landed safely on the ground. The author prefers to live in their dreams, as they would never have to worry about being shot at as they oated down.

The author's father did not live long enough to see him become Captain Jean-Luc Picard, but he was very much with the author. The author's wife loves to tell friends that they had a Victorian childhood, and one of their earliest memories is watching a lamplighter light gas lamps along their street. They spoke with heavy Northern accents, and the author would ask a friend to play if they wanted to.

The author describes their childhood home, 17 Camm Lane, which was arranged around an elevated yard set back from the street. The yard was a rectangle of crushed cinders and dirt bordered by large slabs of stone in front of each house. The author recalls playing a game with friends and playing with boot scrapers to clean the cinders off the soles of their shoes. The house had two air-raid shelters, Anderson shelters, and a stone cellar. The only function of the Andersons was as a private spot for a age-nine kiss and cuddle with a girl.

The cellar was bare stone or brick, with a stone table attached to it and a safe filled with food. The safe's door was covered in mesh to keep the cold air from penetrating the cellar. The cellar was divided in half by a brick wall and behind this wall was a coal chute coming down from the yard outside. The author grew up with no refrigeration and loved owning Mayfair and Park Lane, as well as the railway stations.

The author still has a Monopoly set, which has survived from their youth. Occasionally, when visiting friends' homes, they will see a Monopoly box sitting on a shelf, and the urge to play almost overwhelms them.

The author describes their home, which was a traditional family home with a fireplace, a grate for burning coal, a hot plate for boiling water, and an oven for cooking meat. The fireplace was the centerpiece of the house, and the author's mother cared for it like marble. The room had a small landing with a door into their parents' bedroom, and a shared double bed with their brother Trevor. The room was small, with a thin wall that separated the two bedrooms, and the sound of neighbors gossiping and passing the time made the author feel safe and protected.

The author also mentions the lack of facilities in their house, including no toilet or bathroom. They lived in a squat brick building with two toilets and dustbins, each assigned to a specific house. The toilets had rudimentary plumbing, but had no electric light, heat, or sinks for washing hands. A chamber pot called a gazunder was placed under the bed for peeing. The Stewart family toilet served as the author's reading room, and the radio was always on, making concentration difficult.

The author spent hours in the upstairs bedroom, wearing an overcoat and woolly hat, and taking a candle for illumination. The author read American literature at the local public library, which became his obsession. He read Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Steinbeck, and Philip Marlowe detective novels, spending part of every Saturday morning there. The narratives kept him going, and his love of storytelling began at the library.

The text describes the early home life of the author, who lived in a tightly scripted lavatory setup. The family bathed once a week on Fridays, with their father taking the first bath. The gas boiler was filled with water, and the author was responsible for shaving his father's neck. The author became skilled at this task, earning threepence ($6pence) for it.

The author's brother Trevor also took turns bathing, and they were sent upstairs to bathe in the same water as their father. Trevor was a fast bather, but the author had to empty the bath before leaving. The author followed his brother's custom of always cleaning his teeth afterward.

The author's mother bathed with music on the radio, and the author would bathe with her in a dressing gown. The author enjoyed helping her wash, but had to be careful not to touch the hot tub rim. The author's mother would ask the author to scrub her back with an annel, which did not make the author uncomfortable.

For the first five years of the author's life, her mother was the only parent, and she was a happier person. Life was mostly blissful for the author, with her mother always close to her. They would play the same game of snuggling and laughing in various places, such as armchairs or on the rug. When the rent collector came, the author would hide underneath the big table, laughing and hysterically opening the door.

The author's mother never let him feel the gravity of the situation, but it was fun and games to them. The author never knew what the rent collector was costing her psychologically, but it must have been a price.

The author's parents had a complicated relationship before their marriage. They had an older brother named Geo Rey, born out of wedlock to their unmarried mother in 1923. Geo Rey had a ribald sense of humor and derived pleasure from introducing himself to the author's girlfriends by saying Hello, I'm Geo Rey, and I'm a bastard. He also harbored a theory that his father was not his biological father.

Geo Rey was disinclined to like his father from the beginning of his life. When Alfred Stewart joined the army, his maternal grandfather went to the county court with the author's mother to seek a judgment compelling Dad to pay for child support. Gladys won her case, and Dad sent along the money, though it didn't amount to much.

The author's mother lived with her Barrowclough grandparents, who provided a cozy and secure home. Freedom Barrowclough was a remarkable Yorkshireman who served as an elected councilor for his district in Mir eld and was elected in a unanimous vote to be the Mir eld Town Council leader. He was generous of spirit and personally delivered pies and peas to struggling families without asking for payment.

In 1935, Alfred's service in India came to an end, and Gladys Barrowclough married him. The author cannot bring themselves to believe that Alfred joyfully reunited with Gladys or that she no longer desired to live with her parents.

The author's parents moved into a low decker bungalow near the pie-and-pea shop, which they never lived in. The author is skeptical on this count, as Geo Rey had the kind, loving Freedom Barrowclough to look up to.

Chapter Two

A young boy named Patrick witnessed a squirrel die in a tree, which left him shaken. He was surprised to see the creature, but an older boy pointed at it and pulled the trigger, causing the squirrel to slide down the tree's trunk. The boy's mother, who was home from the mill, comforted him and helped him through the trauma.

The incident triggered a more empathetic side of him, as he realized that the fear the poor creature felt induced terror in him. This empathy led him to want to act. His father, who had served in the army, was not happy to be at home with his family. He struggled to find a new job and was a painter at the Imperial Chemical Industries plant in Huddersfield. His health was weakened by malaria and he smelled vile when he returned home.

Patrick's father only struck him once, leaving a lasting impression on him. When they went on holiday to Blackpool, he saw a fruit-and-vegetable shop and asked him to pick up something. He opened his eyes and found a peach on