I just realised that I once shared the stage with Daniel Day-Lewis. It struck me as I was speed reading an article about the great actor in this week's Observer magazine. And it's true; I did.
As I was skimming its sister paper last weekend (I don't have the luxury of a full, indulgent digestion of the weekend papers now) I was struck by something else. But maybe that's the purpose of newspapers - to present something new. Anyway, The Weekly Charts that appear in the Review section of the Saturday Guardian and which show book sales in the UK, are an interesting read for those of us who, as I said before, have little leisure time on their hands. A list is a good thing to read. No long sentences or complicated concepts to grasp. But they can be truly enlightening.
On 12th January 2013 there were eight books competing for the attention of our stomachs - not our minds. Four were cookery books (nos. 1,5,7,and 10) in Hardback non-fiction and four were diet books (nos. 1,2,7 and 10) in the Paperback non-fiction.
The fact that THREE of those ratings match each other leads me to assume, quite rationally I think, that the fatties who bought 'The FAB Diet' (Rosemary Conley, Arrow £6.99) crumbled under exposure to the delights on display in 'Nigellissima:Instant Italian' (C&W £26). As with top notch chocolate, her much more plumptious price tag was no deterrent. Both are riding high at number seven in their respective charts.
From that example, it is easy to extrapolate that our love of food is equal to our desire to be thinner. But which of these tomes will last? Which are designed to stay in our kitchens? In my house, the hardback book is a purchase of love. It reflects a desire to keep said book for years, to be cherished and enjoyed by many others. My oldest book is a copy of 'Boris the Bearhunter'. Nothing about Mr Johnson, but a book of boyish escapades that was loved and handled by my Grandfather as a child. It celebrates its centenary this year.
I'd love to know if anyone who has, say, Paul McKenna's 'The Hypnotic Gastric Band' (Bantam £12.99) clutched close to their over-sized bosom, is simulataneously gorging on the recipes and visual feasts of Paul Hollywood's 'How to Bake' (Bloomsbury £20). Which makes someone feel most guilty? Being fat, or reading how to get fat?
I think the price of these books is an indication of their intended shelf-life. Diets come and go; some work and some fail. They are the post-Christmas self-inflicted punishment (often called a 'New Year's Resolution') for those who don't do Lent. But a good cook book is for ever. I often use my Grandmother's edition of 'The Radiation Cookbook' which was a huge publishing success in 1932 but for some reason somewhat fell out of favour at the end of the Second World War. I bet it's being read long after the diets books have stopped being flavour of the month.
And as for me and Daniel Day-Lewis? We were both very young and I was studying English A Level. He was performing with the travelling arm of the Royal Shakespeare Company and we were taking part in a study workshop in Wisbech, adjacent to the Fens of Cambridgeshire. He was the most handsome Romeo, displaying the naked, tortured soul for which he is now so famed, and I fell in love at first sight. He never even spoke to me but we did share the stage.
