As a bibliophile (and book lover) I should welcome the appearance of a television programme to do with literature. It should be an educational and inspirational event. Why then, I hear you politely enquire, do I find the BBC’s Book Programme so utterly vomit inducing?
Well, let’s start off with the dull tart who presents it. Mariella Frostrup is her name, so I believe. A voice like a badly oiled bicycle and a manner that, if it were adopted by a male, could only be described as smarmy. A syrupy smile that is just asking to be smacked off. I suspect that she is related to Gyles Brandreth.
And, before I go on, what sort of a name is that? It certainly isn’t Yossarian’s name, sir.
Then we have the excruciating vista of authors taking themselves seriously. “You are wonderful aren’t you? Would you like to take the next five minutes to describe exactly how awesomely magnificent you are?” Oh, fuck off.
They had a section this week where some writer or other (definitely or other) described the room in which they do their writing. If any of you heathens out there still deny the existence of a Supreme Intelligence, then, pray tell, how do explain the invention of "fast forward"?
Next week, Dave from Norfolk will be discussing the influence of Turgenev on his narrative about greenhouse construction, Richard will describe his favourite keyboard, and Tom might say something or other about something, not sure what he writes about these days.
Donn! What do they have instead of literature in Canada?
I shall rely on The Burnley Advertiser for my book reviews from now on.
I trust that you all took my advice and began reading Middlemarch in sync with me. I am loving it, even more than the last time, making sure that I don’t speed through it. I wish that Ms Evans were still with us, and writing a blog. I expect that she would not stoop to kicking Frostrup’s tits off, but would probably call her a daft slag in a very clever way.
Now, Mrs Cadwallader, there’s a sexy minx. I would love to spend a few hours chatting (or more likely listening) to her.
15 comments:
Sounds smashing old chap!
Does Mariella have a decent rack like Nigella? The Beeb couldn't afford Jordan Knight eh?
Cheap bloody bastards!
Well in that case this program is doomed...doomed I tell you!
In answer to "What do they have instead of literature in Canada?"
OMG we are so over Literature! pfft Whatever?
Instead of Litter-ature we legalised ghey mariage, pot, baby seal whacking, and pay the Parliamentary salaries of 40f*cking9 separaf*ckingtists from Québec.
How cool is that?
Do make sure you never get arrested for your moderate views, won't you, old chap? After all, we know what is the fate of bibliophiles in prison.
Yes, but Mariella is rather shaggable in an older woman kind of way. Not a MILF I'll grant you, but definitely preferable to Anne Widdecombe.
Mariella writes a relationship advice column in the Observer - she is so predictable I can't read it anymore. I just wish she would for once just say, 'Listen, if you want to fuck your neighbour just go ahead and do it'. But oh no, it's always, think it bloody through!.
So her, combined with books - what a recipe for excitement. You won't be needing your wife if you keep watching that.
And sorry, I missed the invite to join you in reading Middlemarch - next time eh!
And I take it you won't be visiting the Hay-on-Wye festival next year.
Donn. I did not notice her rack. There was some very distracting moving display in the background, and in any case I am far too polite to stare. Please try to avoid my being googled for yet another pair of knockers.
Dave. I am obviously not as familiar with the inside of penitentiaries as you appear to be.
Garfer. See my comments to Donn above re googleable content. Please behave.
Tom. Why do you read advice columns? I am only a telephone call away.
Kaz. Why on hay would I want to?
I will own up, as a callow mid-twenties something a few decades back Ms Frostrup's voice used to "do it" for me. Certainly I can't imagine anything more off-putting than writers talking about their "work" in the presence of such a talent. Mind you, I'm not sure what "it" is anymore.
This is a very nice chunky Dell SK8135 with some nifty rotary controls on it. Feels like it could take a lot of punishment.
Christ almighty, I couldn't think of anything more boring except, perhaps, a music show presented by Billy Bragg.
They don't get the authors to read out their own works do they? That should be left to professionals like Arthur Mullard.
Beverley Callard's breasts.
There. That should take some of the pressure off Geoff's blog for awhile.
The Grauniad has a weekly feature in its review bit about the room various writers do their writing it. I find it strangely fascinating actually.
But I'm weird.
My Word
What on earth are you going on about?
rack n.
>framework or stand in or on which to hold, hang, or display various articles HELLO!
Let's see what else...
>triangular frame for arranging billiard balls
>receptacle for livestock feed
>frame for holding bombs in an aircraft
>bunk
>toothed bar that meshes with a gearwheel, pinion, or other toothed machine part
>state of intense anguish
>instrument of torture on which the victim's body was stretched
>pair of antlers or huge scrumptious mood-altering breasts...
Oh Boy!
OK now I see how my comment may have been misinterpreted. :)
Wasn't it Mrs. C. who advised against going mad because "you wouldn't like it."?
Sound advice when we can read your comments column!
changed your lead recently vicus?
Richard. That's enough keyboard smut.
Geoff. Nothing more boring? You should visit here more regularly.
MJ. Dirty tart.
Rol. There's only one room? That must be dull. And, yes you are.
Donn. We never misinterpret you, because no one has a clue what the meaning of your utterances is.
Dinah. We could fill a book with Mrs Cadwallader quotes. Or we could read Middlemarch and see them all anyway.
ILTV. I sense that you may be leaning towards the vulgar. Please desist.
moi!
some mistake, surely
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