Time For Bed
2 journalers for this copy...
I'm developing a bad habit. And I mean bad. After I had been bookcrossing for a while, I started occasionally picking up copies of my favourite books for registration; given that I was hanging on to my all-time favourite books, I didn't feel my bookshelf accurately reflected my taste. Now I'm actually 'rescuing' my favourites...or as in this case, buying them because the copy sitting on the shelf in a charity shop is a bit shinier and more sharply-turned out than the well-loved, well-read and slightly dog-eared copy sitting in my non-BC PC at home. It has a more unfortunate side-effect than depletion of funds too...for a self-proclaimed avid reader, it would now appear to the casual observer that none of the books in my house have ever been read...
Here are my ramblings copied across from the journal for the first copy of this that I registered:
From the back cover:
Gabriel Jacoby can't get to sleep. In fact, he can't get anywhere at all, either in his Triumph Dolomite or his life. Everything around him, from his large collection of ccoffee-machines to his balding Bradford-born flatmate, is breaking down. Not that Gabriel is bothered; he's too busy being in love with his brother's wife. Which is why Gabriel chooses to waste all his time - because he knows that whatever else he might achieve, it won't be happiness. There's no way there, when you're in love with your brother's wife.
Unless you suddenly remember your brother's wife has a sister...'
Back in 1996, still in a bit of a lather over Newman and Baddiel's split, (Rob Newman had always been my favourite), I half-expected this was nothing more than a retaliatory strike by David Baddiel after Rob's 'Dependence Day' flew up the book charts.
Yes, some bits of 'Dependence Day' are still very funny. Yes, sometimes it's pretty poetic too. Yes, us mad fans in the throes of teen lust-frenzy probably did give it a bit (perhaps more than a bit) of a leg-up the charts. But I lost quite a bit of respect for Rob after he insisted on trotting out all the best bits of the book for his 'Dependence Day' tour, and quoting sections anecdotally on every chat-show he went on at the time...
Incidentally, after seeing Rob on the BBC series 'Scribbling', which followed three writers and their stories from conception to publication (or not) I regained a lot of that lost respect for him...he came across as less of a media-styled rock'n'roll comedian (remember that, when all the newspapers proclaimed 'Comedy is the new Rock 'n' Roll!'), more of a bloke trying to scrape a living at something he loves to do.
Which of course is all by-the-by. What I'm trying to get at is that in my hormonally-challenged state, I thought that 'Time for Bed' would be a poor runner-up, and it would be but a matter of time before David Bladdiblub disappeared into the realms of obscure pub-quiz answers.
The thing is, though, that Baddiel turned out to be a bloody good writer, and this is a bloody good book. There are some larger-than-life characters in here, but not too many...and Gabriel is very noticably based on Baddiel himself (insomniac, anal sex obsessed, owner of feral regurgitating cat, slightly unhinged and excessively 'Northern' flat-mate), but the story itself ticks along at a fair old pace, with enough moments of painful self-awareness to balance out the comedy side-lines. That said, though, the quote I'm going to use is pure, brilliant observational comedy...
'I even consider wearing my hat, this little pointy green thing with a black African band around it, but hats: you know, you just can't wear them nonchalantly, can you? It's not like: this is just something I've thrown on, a hat. It's really saying I'm wearing this; 'hat' it's saying, in a way that trousers never say 'trousers' - where trousers say 'trousers', a hat says HAAAAT - it's the nearest thing we have to a codpiece. And anyway, I can't find it.'
Here are my ramblings copied across from the journal for the first copy of this that I registered:
From the back cover:
Gabriel Jacoby can't get to sleep. In fact, he can't get anywhere at all, either in his Triumph Dolomite or his life. Everything around him, from his large collection of ccoffee-machines to his balding Bradford-born flatmate, is breaking down. Not that Gabriel is bothered; he's too busy being in love with his brother's wife. Which is why Gabriel chooses to waste all his time - because he knows that whatever else he might achieve, it won't be happiness. There's no way there, when you're in love with your brother's wife.
Unless you suddenly remember your brother's wife has a sister...'
Back in 1996, still in a bit of a lather over Newman and Baddiel's split, (Rob Newman had always been my favourite), I half-expected this was nothing more than a retaliatory strike by David Baddiel after Rob's 'Dependence Day' flew up the book charts.
Yes, some bits of 'Dependence Day' are still very funny. Yes, sometimes it's pretty poetic too. Yes, us mad fans in the throes of teen lust-frenzy probably did give it a bit (perhaps more than a bit) of a leg-up the charts. But I lost quite a bit of respect for Rob after he insisted on trotting out all the best bits of the book for his 'Dependence Day' tour, and quoting sections anecdotally on every chat-show he went on at the time...
Incidentally, after seeing Rob on the BBC series 'Scribbling', which followed three writers and their stories from conception to publication (or not) I regained a lot of that lost respect for him...he came across as less of a media-styled rock'n'roll comedian (remember that, when all the newspapers proclaimed 'Comedy is the new Rock 'n' Roll!'), more of a bloke trying to scrape a living at something he loves to do.
Which of course is all by-the-by. What I'm trying to get at is that in my hormonally-challenged state, I thought that 'Time for Bed' would be a poor runner-up, and it would be but a matter of time before David Bladdiblub disappeared into the realms of obscure pub-quiz answers.
The thing is, though, that Baddiel turned out to be a bloody good writer, and this is a bloody good book. There are some larger-than-life characters in here, but not too many...and Gabriel is very noticably based on Baddiel himself (insomniac, anal sex obsessed, owner of feral regurgitating cat, slightly unhinged and excessively 'Northern' flat-mate), but the story itself ticks along at a fair old pace, with enough moments of painful self-awareness to balance out the comedy side-lines. That said, though, the quote I'm going to use is pure, brilliant observational comedy...
'I even consider wearing my hat, this little pointy green thing with a black African band around it, but hats: you know, you just can't wear them nonchalantly, can you? It's not like: this is just something I've thrown on, a hat. It's really saying I'm wearing this; 'hat' it's saying, in a way that trousers never say 'trousers' - where trousers say 'trousers', a hat says HAAAAT - it's the nearest thing we have to a codpiece. And anyway, I can't find it.'
Release planned for Tuesday, June 08, 2004 at The Angel in Leeds, West Yorkshire, England United Kingdom.
Will be accompanying me to the Leeds meet tonight - see you there!
Will be accompanying me to the Leeds meet tonight - see you there!
Collected this on 9/6/2004 at the Leeds meet-up, which was a thoroughly pleasant affair. Not read yet, but David Baddiel is a FUNNY MAN so I'm sure it will give me endless delight.
