It feels a bit early to be posting about Christmas, but since festive stock started arriving at the shop in early August, and the DFS Christmas advert - that hallowed benchmark of the holiday season - has taken over our televisions and 4OD screens, I don’t feel like I’m jumping the gun.
It’s a common misapprehension that the process of gift-giving during the festive season is an intuitive thing. Perusing last year’s crop of irritating brain worms (sorry, adverts), one would be forgiven for thinking that one trip to a larger branch of Curry’s would get the job done. But for those of us who feel unable to stretch our meagre budgets to cover the entirety of the white-goods aisle of a large electricals store, it can be, and often is, a very trying experience.
Yeah, Santa's low on ideas, too
Gifts for well-loved friends, lovers and family members pose their own set of problems. However, buying for the newest member of a social group, an odd uncle or terrifying colleague can reduce even the savviest shopper to a gibbering wreck, grabbing wildly at the humorous cravats in Tie-rack, then wondering in baffled self-loathing what possessed you as the recipient opens your carefully packaged otter-themed tie with polite disinterest.
Thanks, that'll go great with my otter slippers you got me last year...
Here’s what I suggest. In times of doubt, go with a book. Books are never offensive (unless you really lose it and plump for Mein Kampf). Here is my guide to book-buying for awkward people.
1: THE MISANTHROPE
"I hate everything. Apart from this hat. This hat is inheriting everything"
Actual quote: ‘Could you help me find a present for my mother, please? She hates everything and everyone. No, seriously, she’s a horrible person’
Suggested gift: We Need to Talk About Kevin
The blurb: Eva never really wanted to be a mother; certainly not the mother of the unlovable boy who murdered seven of his fellow high school students, a cafeteria worker and a teacher who tried to befriend him. Now, two years later, it is time for her to come to terms with marriage, career, family, parenthood and Kevin’s horrific rampage in a series of startlingly direct correspondences with her absent husband, Franklyn.
Why it’s perfect: Nothing good happens in this book. Seriously. Nothing. It’s an unrelentingly bleak description of motherhood, childhood, the works. It’s everything a romcom isn’t. Reading it is like wading through a treacle of unending depression. Its glory lies in the fact that in spite of everything, you continue to pick up the book, night after night, long after lesser written works would have been discarded to moulder with the dust-bunnies under your bed. However disturbing it might be to imagine the misanthrope experiencing a satisfying tingle of shadenfreud from the sheer human misery contained, at least you’re offering them the nearest approximation of a happy Christmas they’re likely to have barring natural disasters.
2) THE NO-FACE
You got me a present, right?
Actual quote: ‘I don’t know what to do. My brother’s invited his new girlfriend round on her birthday. I’ve never met her, and all he can tell me is that she’s scared of hamsters. Apparently that’s hilarious’
Suggested gift: A hardback edition of Rebecca
The blurb: “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again…” Working as a lady’s companion, for the heroine of Rebecca, life looks very bleak until, on a trip to the South of France, she meets Maxim de Winter, a handsom widower whose sudden proposal of marriage takes her by surprise. She accepts, but whisked from glamorous Monte Carlo to the ominous and brooding Manderley, the new Mrs de Winter finds Max a changed man. And the memory of his dead wife Rebecca is forever kept alive by the forbidding Mrs Danvers.
Why it’s perfect: Everyone loves Rebecca. Almost inarguably Daphne Du Maurier’s greatest novel, it’s a ghost story with no ghost, a love story where the heroine is never named but is, by the end, undoubtedly the plot’s strongest character. It’s a timeless classic, written in a wonderfully unpretentious style that doesn’t put off readers who might find older classics harder to digest. More importantly for the no-face, it’s almost completely inoffensive without being bland. Gorgeous hardback editions are available fairly inexpensively without looking cheap. (If all else fails, the no-face should appreciate the fact that they themselves could pass it on to their own difficult-to-buy-for friend). Bonus points awarded to those who include the URL for Mitchell and Webb’s parody in the accompanying card.
3) THE GAMER
No, no, anti-stereotyping league of Britain, thank you!
Actual quote: ‘My little brother is a nightmare. He only ever plays video-games, but if I buy him anything, he either hates it, already has it, or everyone else in the family has got it for him too’
Suggested gift: Ready Player One
The blurb: It's the year 2044, and the real world has become an ugly place. We're out of oil. We've wrecked the climate. Famine, poverty and disease are widespread. Like most of humanity, Wade Watts escapes this depressing reality by spending his waking hours jacked into the OASIS, a sprawling virtual utopia where you can be anything you want to be, where you can live and play and fall in love on any of ten thousand planets. And like most of humanity, Wade is obsessed by the ultimate lottery ticket that lies concealed within this alternate reality: OASIS founder James Halliday, who dies with no heir, has promised that control of the OASIS - and his massive fortune - will go to the person who can solve the riddles he has left scattered throughout his creation. For years, millions have struggled fruitlessly to attain this prize, knowing only that the riddles are based in the culture of the late twentieth century. And then Wade stumbles onto the key to the first puzzle. Suddenly, he finds himself pitted against thousands of competitors in a desperate race to claim the ultimate prize, a chase that soon takes on terrifying real-world dimensions - and that will leave both Wade and his world profoundly changed.
Why it’s perfect: Admittedly, if the intended recipient is someone who loves games to the exclusion of all else, getting them to even open the book will be the real challenge here. You can lead a gamer to sci-fi, but you can’t make him/her read. However, I am disregarding the massive proportion of self-styled gamers who don’t exist as a cultural stereotype and do love to read – if your target is one of those, so much the better. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline is an absolutely perfect gift for anyone who so much as picked up a console during the late 80s/early 90s and has a working knowledge of John Hughes films. Every page is a nostalgia trip, every sentence an homage to a culture that spawned the gaming industry. The fact that this is stitched perfectly into a futuristic and dangerous world makes it more than the novelisation of one of those irritating I Heart the 80s nostalgia docs, becoming instead a tense high-tech thriller with its roots firmly lodged in the recent past.
4) THE HISTORICAL ENTHUSIAST
Sigh, I know... but I defy you to find a better picture
Actual Quote: ‘I’d like to get my Dad a fiction book. He only really reads history and it drives mum mad. He keeps talking about battles to her when she’s trying to sleep’
Suggested gift: A few here, depending on the period of history concerned. My knowledge of (and interest in) battles is limited, so I’d recommend taking your chances with a Bernard Cornwell or two for that sort of thing. Here are a few more options.
First World War: Regeneration by Pat Barker (if you’re feeling super-generous, stretch to the rest of the series, The Eye in the Door and The Ghost Road)
Mini review: Regeneration charts the real life encounter between war poets Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen when they met whilst in treatment at Craiglockhart Mental Hospital in Scotland. Wilfred Owen was recovering from shell shock, whilst Sassoon had been committed for writing a letter condemning the prolongation of the war which was read out in Parliament. Barker’s book is incredibly well-researched but, above all, beautiful and sad.
The Thirties: Rules of Civility by Amor Towles
Mini-review: An absolute JOY to read. Meet Katy Kontent and Evie Ross and travel back to 1930s New York, where they roam around the city, being fabulous – at least, initially… What sets this book apart for me is that it never hits the shallow waters of ‘fabulous fiction’ such as Sex and the City and the like. Katy and Evie are fun but flawed and experience events that SATC wouldn’t touch with a well-manicured fingernail. But what’s incredible is period fiction where the woman comes out on top. Katy takes some stick, and doesn’t always win, but she always has a nice little comment to finish off the encounter – she always gets the last word. It’s difficult to write about this without making it seem like standard chick-lit, but believe me, it’s not. It’s just that explaining what makes it stand out would be revealing a major plot point. And we don’t believe in spoilers! Take it on trust, people, it’s a wonderful gift.
Second World War: Mr Chartwell by Rebecca Hunt
Mini Review: This isn’t actually set during the war, but it does feature one Winston Churchill. It’s perhaps an odd book to choose, seeing as it never mentions the battlefields, the holocaust or anything from the war itself. However, it’s an exploration of Churchill’s depression, through the personification of the Black Dog that he so often spoke about. On the one hand you see how depression can begin; encroaching slowly but surely into someone’s life and personal relationships. And, on the other, the long-term effects; explored via the Churchill character, on your life and career. As depressing as this may seem, it’s a wonderful and enlightening book.
5) THE CULTURE VULTURE
Oh Google images, you never disappoint...
Actual quote: ‘So, this guy only reads prize-winning fiction – or at least nominated. He’ll probably get more Hilary Mantel than you can shake a stick at.’
Suggested gift: The Teleportation Accident
The Blurb: When you haven't had sex in a long time, it feels like the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone. If you're living in Germany in the 1930s, it probably isn't. But that's no consolation to Egon Loeser, whose carnal misfortunes will push him from the experimental theatres of Berlin to the absinthe bars of Paris to the physics laboratories of Los Angeles, trying all the while to solve two mysteries: whether it was really a deal with Satan that claimed the life of his hero, the great Renaissance stage designer Adriano Lavicini; and why a handsome, clever, charming, modest guy like him can't, just once in a while, get himself laid.
Why it’s Perfect: I am now taking bets at odds of 90/1 that the Culture Vulture will NOT have read this book. Whilst it was longlisted for this year’s Booker Prize, it failed (incomprehensibly) to make the shortlist, and is not yet available in compact paperback format which usually boosts sales of such books. In other news: It is Perfect. In every sense. The story of a man trying so hard to get laid that, despite hailing from Berlin in the 1930s, he manages to miss the rise of the Nazis is always going to be an eccentric read. It combines history, satire, farce, raunch and brilliant prose in more or less equal measures. Oh yes, and did I mention it was longlisted for the Booker? It bears repeating as, when the Culture Vulture peels back the wrapping on this diamond of a book, you can nod sagely, quote that fact and instantly gain 10 bonus points (exchangeable for five mince pies and a second helping of brussel sprouts at the going rate). But before wrapping it up and saying goodbye, give it a quick read, careful not to bend the pages – or, indeed – rip them out whilst roaring with laughter. Yes. It’s that good.
That’s enough recommending for one post, I feel. However, if you’re still at a loose end, why not pop into your local bookshop and ask a member of staff for some advice? You’d be surprised how many people are shocked SHOCKED that we actually read the books we sell. And if I can come up with recommendations for elderly women who hate the world, I’m sure they can fix your problem too. In the mean-time, let’s sit back and watch the Christmas gifting machine ramp up. There are (unlit) Marmite Xmas lights on Oxford Street which seem to show an elf vomiting into his little elf-hat. Let’s pause and think about that for a while... Oh well, at least it’s not a fridge.
Smeg indeed...
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