In an age when social media reigns supreme and our celebrities are subjected to having their nude, private photographs gleefully circulated online without their permission, it is important to be reminded that, once upon a time, some public figures were beyond the public's grasp. This separation allowed space for stories to emerge and idols to be born.
Reviews of Autobiography confirmed my worst fears: he would spend far too long detailing a complicated court case against his former band-members and not enough time describing how it must have felt to press something so pure as Hatful of Hollow or Meat is Murder to vinyl. But then - what do critics know?
I can never hear about football tragedies without thinking of the Shankly saying. Hillsborough, Bradford City, Heysel, the Accra Sports Stadium deaths in Ghana in 2001, the dozens killed during Egypt's Port Said stadium clashes in 2012. The list goes on and on. Or indeed the recent depressing news of two more deaths during construction work on the stadium that will host the opening ceremony for next year's World Cup finals in Brazil.
His book is not going to be a classic (see above). Either Morrissey knows that - in which case the 'classic' label is a genuinely hilarious joke - or, horribile dictu, he believes it, in which case the book is likely to have all the humour and finesse of a statue produced by the Kim Jong-Il metallurgy factory for the glorification of the great leader.