Miriam Margolyes brings classic literature, and swearing, to the Fringe

Miriam wants cake, before we start our chat. She is a woman of appetites – for cake, for literature, for justice and decency, and for life. She is the kind of woman who restores your faith in humanity.

In an appalling oversight by the Royal Family, she has never been awarded a Damehood. “I don't think I have done remarkable enough work to be a dame,” she says. “Mind you, there's a few others in the same category.” But she has just had an ice cream created in her honour, about which she is thrilled. It is a delicious combo of coffee and chocolate with fudge, she tells me. “Almost like having a rose named after you, but more immediately delicious.”

A portrait of her father – a GP in the Gorbals - hangs behind her as we speak in a room piled with papers and lined with books and myriad impressive awards – none of which she seems to remember receiving. It is a literate room. A working room.

Miriam herself wanted to be a doctor when she was very young, “but I couldn't do maths; I couldn't do science. I was hopeless at chemistry.”

So she went to Cambridge, studied English, specialised in oral sex, she says, “because Jewish girls don't get f***ed … you do oral sex'', joined the Footlights, made Newnham College's mark on University Challenge in 1963 by being the first person to swear on the BBC, and generally had a jolly good time.

Miriam's fans of the flatter shoe (as Zoe Lyons so beautifully put it) should be reassured – re the above - that “because being gay wasn't the norm when I was growing up, you didn't know that it was an option. So the way to behave was with men and it was only later, when I realised there was something else, that I went full steam ahead into dykedom.'” But how admirable, and how Margolyes, to leave no sensory stone unturned.

Miriam comes, she reveals, “from a long line of ne'er do wells. Especially on my mother's side”. From where I am sitting, she has done extremely well.

Her abiding love – other than her longtime partner – is Dickens. “From my earliest days, reading was my passion,” she says “and at Cambridge, where I studied English literature, my intellectual life deepened and grew.”

It is quite extraordinary, listening to her speak. Even the way she enunciates the word “literature” makes you want to pick up a copy of Bleak House. I confess to her that I always thought Dickens read as though he were being paid by the word (he was not). She is marvellously forbearing.

“He was able to be terse,” she says, “just not that often. I think one of the things I might include in the show is the opening of Bleak House.” She creates a moment, just by shifting her position forward in her chair, and begins ... “London. Michalmous Term lately over …” and then sits bolt upright. “And we're in! I love Dickens because he is able to tackle the whole of life – the pain of life, the joy of life and he does it in the best prose that was ever written. He could create a world richer and more interesting, more sinister than you had expected.”

Miriam says the key to understanding Dickens is that he was a Georgian, not a Victorian. And that difference is fundamental. “He would have hated me,” she says. “He hated fat women and hated noisy women. But I think we might have bonded over our shared ability to deal with excess.” Is she a fan of excess? “I am,” says Miriam, and smiles.

She has not performed at the Fringe since 2012, she says. “I want to be in front of a live audience again.” Having said which, she is not thrilled with the prospect of the 1200 seater Pentland Suite. “That was a management decision.” she says. “I wanted to be in a smaller space. Is it 1200 seats? God almighty, that's a bit of a worry. They will just have to close down the side bits and we will make it fun for people.”

Fun or no … be aware that cell phones infuriate Miriam. “If I see someone texting during the show, I walk off stage.” You have been warned. “Bringing the walls in – that is the task.” she enthuses. “And Dickens can do that – because he is fun.”

Of course the whole space might well be needed. Miriam's fame – albeit for Harry Potter and her glorious appearances on the Graham Norton Show rather than anything more literary – will ensure tickets fly like a Nimbus 2000.

“Graham Norton is an absolutely lovely man,” she says. “He has changed my life. Before I went on his show I was not well know and now I am.” She is not remotely bothered that she is forever linked with deeply personal revelations and liberal use of terms such as 'wet' and 'moist', where they might be least expected. As well as the expletive dear Miriam has made her own.

“I am very confident that I am a good person, so I think it is allowed for me to say c*** every now and again.” she says. “I don't know why it has become such a thing but I know that people expect me to say it when I am on stage – and it will occur. I am just grateful that people want to see me – that they will pay money to come and hear me talk.”

Margolyes & Dickens: The Best Bits, Pleasance @ The EICC – Pentland, 7-15 August. Tickets: https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/margolyes-dickens-the-best-bits