Today I had intended to write a very erudite (!) piece about homage to literary classics in films. I’ve just watched ‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom’ for the first time. I’m so glad I did….
It’s such a truly terrible piece of cinematic nonsense (just my opinion, you understand) that I needed something else to occupy me while it wound its way to the inexorable conclusion. In between bouts of Sudoku I realised the film was a reworking of the Lost World literary genre.
This got me thinking about other literary works that had been referenced by the franchise. I came up with James Hilton’s ‘Lost Horizon, introducing us to the concept of Shangri-La, and H Ryder Haggard’s ‘She’, and Ayesha’s Spirit of Life, and incidentally, one of the best-selling books of all time. There are many more, but I’ll leave them for another day.
Today I have a more pressing problem. Having decided to convert our garage into extra living accommodation, I have to find somewhere to put the hundreds of books and vinyl records I’ve accumulated over the years. These days I buy a lot of my reading material from charity shops – read and return, so the shop can sell the books again. I’m over my acquisitive stage, so I don’t feel the need to keep any of these books once I’ve read them. The only ones I hang on to are those I’ve bought new – big treat – and may re-read in the future.
There’s no room in the house – I’ve already commandeered every available nook and cranny – and they’re gradually infiltrating the rest. I suspect they may even be multiplying. I start new piles all over the place: up the stairs, along the hallway, in the loft, in the bedroom, cunningly hidden by an exuberant pot plant. All those I displayed on shelves in the conservatory have long since lost the colour on their spines – I have a small library of white books. It’s like having a cupboard full of cans with no labels – every one a mystery until I open it up. So what to do with them?
Several ideas occur:
- Construct yet more living space out of the books.
- Burn them as fuel. Paper spontaneously combusts at 451˚F, but that’s never likely to be a problem in sunny England.
- Table tennis paddles. Downside: only need two – 467 still to go…..
- Air traffic control paddles.
Actually, I need look no further:
Now what about the 400+ vinyl records, most of which I do not own on CD, iPod or similar?
Answers on a postcard, please…