As part of the London Word Festival, Lauren Romano sees books triumph over a range of strange competitors.
Last night in the slightly ramshackle chaos of the Dalston Boys' Club, a fags vs fiction battle was fought. Taking the 1946 George Orwell essay, Books vs Cigarettes, as a starting point (in which Orwell argues that reading is probably duller than “going to the dogs, the pictures or the pub”) the London Word Festival has decided to settle the ‘what’s better than reading’ score once and for all. They've pitted paperbacks against films, being a dick, Nandos and, um, frisbee tree golf.
Hosted by LWF regular Robin Ince, four comedians and a writer take to the stage to champion the most ridiculously spun arguments, leaving us the audience to decide whether reading really is a more pleasurable pursuit than eating Peri Peri chicken. Unsurprisingly, it turns out, it is. We’re a book-loving bunch and neither Richard Sandling’s exaltation of the VHS, nor Matthew Crosby’s alarming addiction to the aforementioned culinary zenith that is Nandos, can convince us to tear ourselves away from a good tome.
John-Luke Roberts rocks the boat somewhat with his suggestion that being a dick is the next best thing since sliced bread. In fact, it turns out Roberts is something of an authority on the subject, and to prove it, an audience member is plucked from the crowd and made to use the comic’s contempt-provoking cue cards to insult everyone in range. (It turns out the only reason anyone would invite me to a party would be if I had coat hooks all over my face). It’s a nice try but we all know which side our bread’s buttered on really.
The biggest threat to knocking books off the top spot comes from The Cumberland Lawn Frisbee Tree Golf Club founder Ben Moor. Established in 2002 frisbee tree golf basically involves throwing an Aerobie from trunk to trunk around a course of thirteen trees. (You really can’t make this stuff up: check out the Facebook group if you don’t believe me). Club members compete four times a year for the ultimate seasonal trophies: the winter pineapple, the autumn aubergine, the summer watermelon and the spring coconut. When it comes to voting this time, it’s a close call.
After precariously perching on a bandy legged stool for over three hours, by the time the evening draws to a slightly fizzled out finish (author Stuart Evers’ more serious Books vs Cigarettes debate would have worked better earlier on) I’ve had my fill of rhetoric and laughs and in my pleasantly sleepy state I really don’t feel like the long schlep back south. If only London Word Festival had a helicopter at their disposal to whizz me back to Brixton. One for next year’s suggestions box perhaps?
All in all, a nonsense-filled but totally riveting night’s entertainment complete with scrumptious morsels of treacle sponge to nibble on (made to Orwell’s own recipes – a very lovely touch I’m sure you’d agree).
www.londonwordfestival.com
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