A you may have surmised from this blog, I am not exactly someone who has their finger on the pulse of popular culture. In fact–and we need to have this discussion someday–if I’m sitting at a table with people discussing famous actors, pretty models who are married to sporting figures or the latest diet craze, I’m usually the guy in the corner rolling his eyes and wondering how 21st century civilization manages to survive if its citizens are concerned about those things.
A few exceptions exist, usually literary. I read The Da Vinci Code when everyone was reading it (I happen to like that kind of thing and turn a blind eye to the obvious shortcomings) and also read and watched the Harry Potter series in nearly real time (I began with the first movie).
That’s not normally the case. I usually sneer at popular culture as the modern equivalent of the prefrontal lobotomy.
But sometimes–not always, or even usually, but sometimes–popular culture ends up becoming part of the canon and it’s nice to be beaten over the head with it and discovering it twenty years later (twenty years seems to be the benchmark–if it dies before the 20 years are up, it wasn’t really worth much, was it?).
I frequent a few of those places where popular culture makes the transition to high culture and I discover things that I might have missed. One of those places, strangely enough, is the Folio Society website. Yes, the Folio Society is mainly known for its pretty editions of classics, but they also have a fine sense of when a book or author is making that transition between the popular and the canon. If your book becomes a Folio edition, you have, in a real sense not necessarily measured in dollars, arrived.
For readers like myself, who are often have no way of telling the popular culture wheat from the chaff, it’s a great place to find out what is making that transition and to discover authors that everyone but I have already heard of.
To that list, I have now added Bill Bryson, and specifically his amazing book Notes From a Small Island. For those who are as sadly clueless as I was, Bryson is an American journalist who lived in Britain for many years. Before returning to his homeland, he decided to take a sort of Grand Tour of the Isles and write it up. The result is a delightful, often laugh-out-loud-funny, and affectionate glimpse at Britain through the eyes of someone who can tell what is so funny about it and make us understand.
It’s one of those delightful books that definitely make life richer. If you haven’t read it, track down a copy–you won’t regret it.
In fact, finding things like this is almost enough to make one want to pay more attention to what is going on in popular media, or even to pay attention to what the people around you are discussing at lunch.
Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and insufferable elitist who expounds his unsustainable worldview in a number of novels and collections which he only wishes would become a part of popular culture and make him a millionaire. Branch is a novella about evolution in the next few years and, as a shorter work, is probably a good introduction to his oeuvre.