The Daily Mail has an extract of the new Madonna book, written by her brother Christopher. The book titled Life with my Sister Madonna depicts their childhood together and ends early in her marriage with Guy Ritchie, as the siblings ceased to be close friends.

One of the most interesting extracts was the part where Chritsopher talks about Madonna’s arrival in New York, and the legend that she turned up with $35 and talent, not knowing anyone in the city.

After all, she is a middle-class girl who propagates the story that she landed in Times Square with just a pair of ballet shoes and $35 to her name. But that’s pure mythology and the further she progresses, the more mythological her life story becomes.

Although our father wasn’t really allowed to tell us about his job because it was top-secret, he worked in the defence industry in Detroit, designing firing systems and laser optics, first at Chrysler Defense and then at General Dynamics.

Far from being this lost and friendless little waif who didn’t even have a crust of dry bread to eat, when Madonna went to New York she had money in her pocket, plenty of contacts and a support system all in place. I often wonder whether her taste for self-invention explains her attraction to both Sean and Guy.

Throughout the extract Christopher tries to suggest that Guy hates him because he is homophobic, but when he describes their first meeting I think it might be because Christopher treated him dismissively, not expecting his relationship with Madonna to last.

On Millennium Eve we (Christopher and Guy) are both at Donatella Versace’s party at Casa Casuarina, her Miami mansion.

Guy is friendly to me and seems like a nice guy. He is conventionally dressed in a white shirt and dark-blue trousers and jacket, and I warm to him. He is personable and respectful and seems as if he might be fun to hang out with. Nonetheless, I tell myself that I doubt he’ll outlast Madonna’s usual two-year relationship cycle.

We have cocktails at Donatella’s table, along with Rupert Everett and Gwyneth Paltrow, and later move on to the VIP room of a new club.

It’s now four in the morning. I pull Gwyneth on to the dance floor. Madonna is dancing on the table. Gwyneth joins her and they dance together. In the middle of the dance, Madonna grabs Gwyneth and kisses her full on the mouth. It’s that sort of a night.

My friend Dan has brought a 19-year-old boy to the party with him. Madonna, in a knee-length pink chiffon Versace dress, is on the dance floor, dancing with a group of people. We all look good together, and we know it.

Suddenly the boy squeezes up to Madonna. He edges between us, puts his arms around her, and they dance a slow dance close together. Within an instant, Guy strides across the dance floor. He kicks the boy in the leg to get his attention and drags him away. Then he swings his fist at him. I push Guy back and yank the boy out of the room.

The moment passes. The dancing restarts. I’m on the dance floor with Gwyneth again. Suddenly I sense someone coming up behind me.

Guy grabs me from behind and starts bouncing me up and down like a rag doll.

‘Put me down!’ I demand. I extract myself from his grip, shove him up against the wall and grind my hips right into him.

‘If you want to dance with me, this is how we dance here,’ I say grimly. He flushes and pushes me off. I walk away. I don’t give Guy another thought.

Christopher also complains that Madonna blackmailed him into coming to her wedding by not paying him for interior design work.

In a note with my wedding invitation, she says she is inviting ‘my close friends and family members that are not insane to the wedding at Skibo Castle’ in the Scottish Highlands, adding: ‘We will be married by a vicar in the Church of England because Catholics are a pain and GR doesn’t want to convert and besides I’m a divorcee.’

I am not keen to attend the wedding because I really can’t afford it. Moreover, I no longer have any affinity for Guy.

But Madonna owes me the final payment for the interior design work I did on one of her houses and when I call to make my apologies, her assistant tells me the debt will be paid in the form of a ticket to Scotland, with the rest of the money sent separately.

I spend a few days mulling over the situation. I feel I don’t know this person who is attempting to blackmail me into attending her wedding. So I capitulate. I’m told I will fly to London a week before the wedding, be fitted for a tuxedo and the following morning fly to Inverness, a 45-minute drive from Skibo Castle.

I don’t think it is unreasonable for Madonna to ask him to come to her wedding, particularly since he is her brother. I’m a bit surprised if he was short on cash she didn’t pay for the ticket, but you don’t get super-rich doing stuff like that now, do you?

When he gets to Scotland he tries on the rented tuxedo, and gets the staff to dump the fee on Guy’s bill. He then gets driven at Madonna’s expense to the venue for her wedding, where he refuses to give over his credit card for incidental costs like room service and tells the receptionist to put it on Madonna’s bill, saying he can’t forgive her for her ‘bullying’ attitude.

He also complains about the accommodation (oh, I had to stay in a turret in a castle? Boo hoo!) and points out that Madonna’s Maid of Honor Stella McCartney designed her dress and gave it to her for free.

He then doesn’t eat the food and demands something else besides traditional Scottish food, and gives a nasty wedding toast at the rehearsal dinner, after one of Guy Ritchie’s friends uses the word ‘poofter’ in his toast.

Madonna stands up at the top of the table and issues the instruction: ‘Christopher, tonight it’s your turn to give the toast.’

I lean down the baronial table and, with great emphasis, reply: ‘Madonna, you really don’t want me to do that.’ It’s a statement, not a question.

‘No, Christopher, it’s your turn!’ she barks in a tone identical to the one she always used as a kid when she and my siblings all played Monopoly together.

If she didn’t get Park Place [Mayfair in the English version] she invariably stamped her feet and said: ‘But it’s mine.’ In those days, in the face of her strong will, I always capitulated and rescinded my purchase of Park Place.

Nothing seems to have changed. I stand up. My fellow guests fall silent out of respect – the brother of the bride is about to make a speech. I raise my glass: ‘I’d like to toast this happy moment that comes only twice in a person’s lifetime.’

Then, without skipping a beat, I go on: ‘And if anybody wants to **** Guy, he’ll be in my room later.’
Everyone erupts in laughter. Everyone, of course, except Madonna, who keeps saying: ‘What did he mean?’

You can read the whole extract in the Daily Mail.

Finally, we also find out what caused the siblings to end their close relationship. Christopher overcharged Madonna for a lamp he bought for a home he was decorating for her, calling it a standard designer’s mark-up, and when she finds out she gets angry and says he is trying to rip her off.

While Madonna might be a control freak, and this does seem to be the general opinion of her, Christopher seems to feel that she has given up her own personality and family to be guy’s wife. And with a brother who says that ‘Every ounce of talent you have, you have sucked dry from me and the people around you’ why wouldn’t you cleave to your husband?

Madonna is shown out getting coffee on Saturday and outside the Kabbalah centre. Credit: Michael Carpenter / WENN. Guy Ritchie is shown out in NY, also on Saturday 7/12. Credit: Anthony Dixon / WENN. Christopher Ciccone is shown in an image circa May, 2007 from blogs.planetout.com