Once upon a time I thought dirrrttty words were best spoken in a plummy poshey-oshey voice but since discovering Me Cheeta, “the greatest celebrity autobiography of our time” I now know that filth comes best from an ape. Scurrilous, defamatory, racy and rude Cheeta’s tale spans a life lived in the fast lane during the golden age of Hollywood. From the barbarous jungle of Liberia to the barbarous jungle of Hollywood, Cheeta went on to scale the heady heights of fame as Tarzan’s trusty sidekick.

Cheeta dishes the dirt on all the famous names of the era, Rex Harrison is described as “an absolutely irredeemable [rude word!] ”, Maureen O’Sullivan (Tarzan’s Jane) is an “old trout” and Lupe Velez is an “adulterous canicidal bitch”. Chapter 8 has been completely excised “on legal advice’ what salacious and unfounded gossip have we missed?!

So apart from being a hilarious spoof what is the point of it all? It is beautifully written; the early chapters describing Cheeta’s life in the jungle and his separation from his family are positively eye-moistening. But most poignant of all is Cheeta’s love for the ultimate alpha male Johnny Weissmuller, Tarzan, a big-hearted, misguided but beautiful human-being. The real author behind Me Cheeta is editor James Lever who was commissioned to ghost-write the story by his publisher Nick Pearson at Fourth Estate who’d read a news report about Cheeta’s 75th birthday celebrations. In preparation Lever read a multitude of memoirs from the 1930’s and 1940’s the most affecting being Weissmuller Jnr’s memoir of his father who died in poverty and obscurity after six disastrous marriages. So this spoof autobiography is also about the dangers of fame and the futility of celebrity, I hope you are listening Paris Hilton. Read, guffaw and enjoy.