This book, an expansion on the darkly-satirical BBC political sitcom The Thick of It written by the same writers (chiefly Armando Iannucci) as the show, is just brilliant. If you're already a fan of the show, you can quit reading this post already - just acquire and devour a copy ASAFP ("F standing for...?" "Feasibly, I should imagine"). You'll laugh hard enough to burst, or at least considerably strain, several minor organs. If you haven't seen the show, you may as well quit reading this post already too and go and watch the show in its entirety* and then come back, having been nourished with some serious entertainment and better-equipped to make the most of the remainder of this post.
The continuation of the show's content and tone into book form is pitch-perfect, picking up the same cast and themes from the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship and its chronically-hazardous encounters with the press. Comprising the book is a vast assortment of all kinds of texts; formal, informal, printed, sent digitally, transcribed, scribbled angrily on post-its: the variety of these and how well the writers have adapted to each signifies ingenious authorship (imho) and makes reading the book a consistently-amusing but haphazard jigsaw-like experience. We get to see the correspondences of Glenn Cullen and Julius Nicholson as they spout endless needless whims, respectively those of a redundant grump and an air-headed careerist; Terri Coverley's appraisal forms testify a formidable blindness to her own ineptitude; Nicola Murray's attempts at drafting policies or 'coming across like a human' in interviews dazzle in all her gaffe-prone glory; Peter Mannion and his Opposition team's out-of-touch frustrations make whiteboard planning matrices and email chains a vindictive delight to read. At the heart of the book, as the show, is the terrifying spin doctor Malcolm Tucker, using brutal (if creative) verbal abuse and intricate manipulation and everything in-between (including anything he can make his quasi-compliant hand-puppet, Ollie Reeder, do) to maintain the government's image. And it's Tucker and his enormous twisted spiderweb that underpin the humourousness and interestingness of the book/show.
Ultimately, The Thick of It is fantastic satire because of how deeply it explores this nexus at the heart of modern politics and the media: the relationship between the free press and the democratic state. One side desperately trying to remain profitable by bringing audiences big surprising stories, the other desperately trying to remain electable by maintaining a basic veneer of respectability and competence. We end up with, in extreme form in The Thick of It but oh-so-recognisable in real life, the only-human fallibility of our ministerial class leading to a complex treacherous war over what journalists are liable to say. So political parties resign to unambitious low-risk centrism, the press resign to hyperbole and speculation, and the general public, with no power over either side, can do little but resign to sit and watch what they rightly perceive to be a government whose first priority is not social justice in any substantive sense but winning battles of spin. No wonder modern westerners are so apathetic - disillusionment and cynicism are probably the most natural responses to realising such a state of affairs. Armando Ianucci and the other writers of this brilliantly clever show/book have exposed this sad tangle incredibly well.
Like all truly excellent satire, it can be deeply thought-provoking; it's an insightful socio-political commentary, a lament for the decline of objectivity in the public sphere (both the state's commitment to ideology-reasoned leadership and the media's commitment to impartial truth) at the hands of populism. Also like all truly excellent satire, it's very very very fucking funny.
* It's on Netflix I think? This book came out in 2010 which was before the fourth season (which lampooned the Coalition government marvellously) so there are a few characters and elements who don't feature unfortunately, but hey, it's still hilarious. Note: those easily offended by swearing might not warm to the show.
The continuation of the show's content and tone into book form is pitch-perfect, picking up the same cast and themes from the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship and its chronically-hazardous encounters with the press. Comprising the book is a vast assortment of all kinds of texts; formal, informal, printed, sent digitally, transcribed, scribbled angrily on post-its: the variety of these and how well the writers have adapted to each signifies ingenious authorship (imho) and makes reading the book a consistently-amusing but haphazard jigsaw-like experience. We get to see the correspondences of Glenn Cullen and Julius Nicholson as they spout endless needless whims, respectively those of a redundant grump and an air-headed careerist; Terri Coverley's appraisal forms testify a formidable blindness to her own ineptitude; Nicola Murray's attempts at drafting policies or 'coming across like a human' in interviews dazzle in all her gaffe-prone glory; Peter Mannion and his Opposition team's out-of-touch frustrations make whiteboard planning matrices and email chains a vindictive delight to read. At the heart of the book, as the show, is the terrifying spin doctor Malcolm Tucker, using brutal (if creative) verbal abuse and intricate manipulation and everything in-between (including anything he can make his quasi-compliant hand-puppet, Ollie Reeder, do) to maintain the government's image. And it's Tucker and his enormous twisted spiderweb that underpin the humourousness and interestingness of the book/show.
Ultimately, The Thick of It is fantastic satire because of how deeply it explores this nexus at the heart of modern politics and the media: the relationship between the free press and the democratic state. One side desperately trying to remain profitable by bringing audiences big surprising stories, the other desperately trying to remain electable by maintaining a basic veneer of respectability and competence. We end up with, in extreme form in The Thick of It but oh-so-recognisable in real life, the only-human fallibility of our ministerial class leading to a complex treacherous war over what journalists are liable to say. So political parties resign to unambitious low-risk centrism, the press resign to hyperbole and speculation, and the general public, with no power over either side, can do little but resign to sit and watch what they rightly perceive to be a government whose first priority is not social justice in any substantive sense but winning battles of spin. No wonder modern westerners are so apathetic - disillusionment and cynicism are probably the most natural responses to realising such a state of affairs. Armando Ianucci and the other writers of this brilliantly clever show/book have exposed this sad tangle incredibly well.
Like all truly excellent satire, it can be deeply thought-provoking; it's an insightful socio-political commentary, a lament for the decline of objectivity in the public sphere (both the state's commitment to ideology-reasoned leadership and the media's commitment to impartial truth) at the hands of populism. Also like all truly excellent satire, it's very very very fucking funny.
* It's on Netflix I think? This book came out in 2010 which was before the fourth season (which lampooned the Coalition government marvellously) so there are a few characters and elements who don't feature unfortunately, but hey, it's still hilarious. Note: those easily offended by swearing might not warm to the show.
No comments:
Post a Comment