Book Review - Sunday Supplement

Greetings. I come to you today as I sit in my fine leather chair in the drawing room, puffing on a pipe in my smoking jacket and slippers, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the latest book for me to review. That’s right, I bet you never had me down as a literacy critic did you? I’ll have you know that I have given a professional critique of some of our most acclaimed classics, including Where’s Wally (‘a contemporary masterpiece of minimalist charm’) and The Very Hungry Caterpillar (‘a rip roaring ride in which a ravenous insect devours all in his path’).

Any moment now, I will hear the soft pat of my latest arrival hitting the hessian welcome mat, covered by The Sunday Times. I have been an avid reader of their Sunday supplement for many a moon now. I appreciate the numerous branches of narrative which stray into celebrity culture, a synopsis on the week’s television schedules, and how to avoid cankles. To collate this into one unique and intriguing package is utterly sublime, and I hope that this week’s instalment manages to wrap up the story arc involving Michael Parkinson’s life insurance.

Do you need a life first before you take out life insurance?

It’s here! After throwing away the actual newspaper (who wants to read about bikini models giving away free money in the local park?), I am greeted by a glossy article of wonder. They say the first mistake of being a book reviewer is to judge a book by its cover, but I reckon I’m in for a treat today!

The inside cover has a note from the editor, which is rather sweet. If only more authors took the time to acknowledge their fans. Then a contents table helpfully guides you through the meat and bones of the novel. I wish Lord Of The Rings had something like this so I could have skipped all those damn descriptions about travelling and gotten to the bit where that bald mental kid falls into a volcano (oops, spoiler alert).

On page 4 is a pull out supplement on Ian Beale’s relationships. For those not in the know, Ian Beale is a character on one of those gaudy, depressing prole-pits called soap operas. This is handy if you find Eastenders so confusing that you need a pictorial diagram in order to follow the current plot. Then, there’s a roundup of the latest reality TV, with many wonderful pictures of chiselled presenter, Phillip Schofield. His contributions to television are nothing short of fucking awful. Sorry no, what’s the word? Legendary.

Then there’s an article about love and relationships, where readers write in (oddly enough, in an identical style and form to each other) to discuss all the sexy sex they’ve been having. This is where things get a bit blue. Apparently, Clive in Berkshire is knocking off his girlfriend’s dog, but the dog doesn’t even know its happening! He wants to know whether he should buy the dog a valentine’s gift or not. Oh-ho Clive, you filthy beggar, you! After that, there’s a woman who has had a bad vajazzle, making her beef curtains taste like oxtail soup. The agony uncle reckons they should kill themselves, then each other.

On the next page, awww it’s a lovely picture of a porcelain dog! Apparently, the dog was engraved especially for Princess Diana’s birthday, and can be mine for nothing apart from 24 monthly payments of £17.99, plus postage, plus labour, plus tax, plus dog handling charges, plus sky plus subscription. Where’s the scissors? I need to cut this bad boy out right now!

I gotta have that bitch!

Right, now let’s get on with the rest of the review. Next we arrive at the fashion pages. No mention of those cankles promised from last week (which I why I won’t be awarding this week’s edition 5 stars), but there are some handy hints for dressing to your body shape. I tend to spend most of my time in a smoking jacket and thick gardening trousers, but apparently I should be wearing a slim, A line dress with horizontal stripes if I’m an apple shape. Court shoes are so out this season, so I’ll need to skin a cougar and make it into trendy boots. I’ll also need to grease my thighs with bacon juice for that “celebrity shimmer” when I’m going out with the girls. I wonder what my wife’s sisters, Marlene and Doris will think of my new look? I tell you, you don’t get useful advice like this from reading Dickens!

Then there are the TV listings. A brief synopsis of each programme is elegantly written giving you the facts, and leaving plenty to your imagination. My mind soars over the possibilities left to chance when I read that on Tuesday there’s a mysteriously intriguing programme named “Coppers”. What could it be about? Perhaps it’s about the fall of the Mayan empire. Maybe it is an insightful documentary on molecular physics. Who knows?

The back cover is another postal order for a commemorative plate for the Queen’s jubilee this year. I reckon that this week’s supplement is more than worthy of four star status, and I heartily recommend it to anyone who enjoys cutting out and sending off for things in the post. Now where did I put those bastard scissors?