A book that is quintessentially David Mitchell. For those who haven’t had the fortune of seeing his sharp-wit on various BBC 4 shows, I’d highly recommend any of them. I wish I could go back to discovering his sensibilities once again to relive the joys of hearing his logic for naming children and his proclamations against the murder of grammar and apostrophes.
My recent crush on David Mitchell notwithstanding, this is still a solid book on the current affairs in Britain (where I do not live, but I also do not need to explain to you the reasons I picked this book up). The book itself is a collection of David Mitchell’s essays for The Observer (which, between him and Nick Hornby, has given hours of joyous content to dive into for someone who’s never set foot in England). So the essays themselves were once-upon-a-time topical, now brought to life only by Mitchell’s relentless pursuit of common-sense arguments and the broader scope of some debates.
Here’s an excerpt from the introduction:
Obviously, people have always lied – so we shouldn’t get too excited about our own society, as if it’s done something which, while admittedly bad, is devilishly inventive, like feeding Christians to lions or devising whiskey. Lying is as old as the hills. Older than ones made of landfill, which I suppose are lying about being hills.
Personally, I lie quite often, mainly about whether I am free to attend social events. It’s all because the phrase “I can come but I don’t want to” seems not to be permitted. There’s no way of dressing that sentiment up so that it’s socially acceptable. I’ll have a go, though:
“It’s so kind of you to invite me and I am sincerely grateful for the thought but, on that day, I know I will be tired and would prefer to stay at home, and I very much doubt that you’d really want me to come if I really don’t want to myself, so if it’s OK, I won’t”.
You see? Won’t do. At best you’d get some sort of diagnosis. And you’d hurt the inviter’s feelings. And the inviter would think less of you – that’s the real kicker.
So there’s nothing for it but “Thanks so much — I’d love to come, but sadly I’ve got to [insert lie here].” It’s the only way of availing yourself of your liberty not to attend without breaking social convention. If you believe in freedom and you don’t want people to think you’re a dick – and the vast majority of us fall into this category – you’ve got to lie, and lie well.
It’s a bit crazy really. As a consequence, we live in a world in which ostensibly everyone wants to go to everything they’re invited to. They always want to, but sometimes they just can’t. The notion of people not wanting to go to parties that they’re actually free to attend is not openly acknowledged by our society. It’s like prostitution in the Victorian age: it’s happening everywhere, but everyone pretends it isn’t.
David Mitchell in Dishonesty is the Second-Best Policy
You’d only find such gems if you’re willing to read his writings on Eton students’ visit to Russia, Theresa May’s thoughts on counter-terrorism, rude street names in England and being rich in London. If you’re a lover of David Mitchell’s wit or live in UK, I’d happily recommend this read. If not, perhaps start by watching QI, WILTY, or any of the other BBC 4 panel shows, until you’re in one of the two categories.
Perplexed Potatoes 