Jo Brand: ‘I try not to think any deeper than the surface’

The comedian, 57, on exercising in lycra, having a depressive father and why she hates writing

Jo Brand
‘I am emotionally blunted. If I started thinking I wouldn’t stop and I’d have to go and live in an ashram’: Jo Brand. Photograph: Graeme Robertson

Patients say things to nurses they won’t say to doctors. This isn’t to diss doctors, but as an ex-nurse I know doctors can be alarming and intimidating. Even if you think you are ill, you still don’t ask the questions you want to.

My mother was a feminist before there were any: liked a protest, was quite left wing, a bit gobby. From my dad I get a slight grumpiness. Actually that’s an understatement. He had a terrible depressive illness through my late teens, and a terrible temper.

People are always surprised that I take exercise, but I love swimming and cycling. It can be hard for fat people to exercise in public because they’re worried about how they look in Lycra. But we’re only trying to improve ourselves. We should be supported.

Most comedians are introspective, or slightly emotionally disturbed. Those life-and-soul types, the guys in the pub who everyone says “he’s a right laugh” tend not to make good stand-ups. It helps to be an outsider in some way.

My father said he never thought I was funny as a child. But I always enjoyed mucking about and making jokes, so some of my friends suggested I should give stand-up a crack. I suppose they either thought there was something there, or they were willing me to fail.

I hate writing. I don’t know why I do so much of it. But if someone asks me to do something I always say yes. I enjoy the social side of collaboration, but I can’t stand taking notes and being asked to revise things.

It used to be easier for men to be fat. When I started [in stand-up], women were heckled for their appearance and men for their content. Now men are being called to step up to the grooming plate in a way they weren’t 30 years ago. I know fat male comedians who get just as sick as I do of the remarks.

You can’t let the point get in the way of the laugh. As long as they are still laughing you can make whatever political point you like. I used to have a joke about the film Boxing Helena, where a woman with no arms and no legs is kept in a box. I wondered what would happen if she had a bad period. Audiences would have no trouble with the armless, legless woman, but there was always a murmur at the mention of “period”.

I am a bit fascistic when it comes to spelling. It would be fine if we all decided that spelling didn’t matter, but as long as it’s a thing it’s important to make an effort.

Becoming a mother made me much tireder. Also, more careful not to be face-down in a pool of vomit like I used to. I’m very aware how lucky I was to be at a stage when I could take time off work.

I am hugely emotionally blunted. I try not to think any deeper than the surface, because if I started I wouldn’t stop and I’d have to go and live in an ashram.

Jo is supporting Macmillan Cancer Support’s World’s Biggest Coffee Morning on 26 September. Visit for more information