Dylan Jones: 'Seasonal Suicide Notes' is a funny, acute stocking filler that should appeal to any half-decent misanthropist

Talk Of The Town

Friday 04 December 2009 20:00 EST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

One of the enjoyable things about being an editor is being able to meet and commission those writers whose work you worship – especially if the interest is reciprocated. Of course there are many aspects to magazine editing, but I've always placed most importance on the production of seriously great writing, which you can only achieve with seriously great writers.

Like Roger Lewis, for instance. Known principally for his extraordinary biography The Life and Death of Peter Sellers (which was adapted into an award-winning film starring Geoffrey Rush), he has also written a lovely monograph of the former Carry On star Charles Hawtrey, as well as a biography of his hero (Lewis's, not Hawtrey's), Anthony Burgess.

Endearingly, Roger also lists his forthcoming books in his lists of achievements; they include The Kill Fees Trilogy, Mister Jesus (a gospel) and When I Was Young and Twenty and I Had a Dainty Quim (madrigals). Lewis is very, very good. And in print, very, very scary. Eviscerating. Savage. Downright rude.

I had lunch with Roger last year, and beforehand I was quite nervous, concerned that our meal might turn out to be some sort of semantic means test. Roger turned out to be charm personified, and has since written some extraordinary pieces for me, the most recent on the legacy of Jacques Tati.

For some years Roger has been "entertaining" his friends with a rather dour diary-style letter at Christmas, a sort of litany of professional and personal disasters (Lewis takes self-deprecation to almost Olympian levels).

A book-length version of these diatribes has been mooted for ages, and finally it has arrived: Seasonal Suicide Notes, a stupendously acute and funny stocking filler that should appeal to any half-decent misanthropist.

Lewis has some slightly predictable complaints about the expediency of the publishing industry – an industry he says is obsessed with the autobiographies and fiction of the recently famous – but that aside, it really is a wonderful piece of work.

Seasonal Suicide Notes comes with a cover illustration of a snowman playing Russian roulette with a hair dryer. Buy this book, or else I'm plugging it in.

Dylan Jones is the editor of 'GQ'

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in