Hugely flattered, I returned a resounding “Gimme.” Only rather more gracefully phrased. At least, I hope so.
And then the doubts set in. Had I implied I was qualified in any way to do this? I had never read/heard/listened to an audiobook. That’s ANY audiobook. The odd 15 minutes with Book at Bedtime on Radio 4 was the limit of my literary listening.
But this was a whole book. What if I didn’t care for the experience? AAAARGH!
When To Read an Audiobook
I mined my friends’ experience. Most of them laughed. One of them simply refused to believe that I had never listened to an audiobook. “You would have, if you had to do the school run,” she said darkly.
“It’s the only way I can read on the way to work,” said another.
True, I overshot Mansion House occasionally. But I only once had to walk back to Threadneedle Street from the wilds of Aldgate.
My interlocutor dismissed that with an airy wave. “The trains are more crowded now,” she said dismissively. “If you moved a hand to turn a page, someone would probably have you up on an assault charge.”
Whereas, she explained, she just opened the book on her smartphone, inserted her earphones, and there she was, away with the fairies. Or the society of her destination du jour, anyway. Not sure I’d have wanted to be alone with Hawksmoor in an underground train crowded with potential murderers, now I come to think of it.
Sociability and Statistics
I remembered them saying that their great treat of an evening, after seeing their children through the trauma of homework and teeth brushing, was to collapse onto the sofa and listen to a book together.
Well, OK. If civilised people like L& P enjoy it, there was at least a 50% chance that I would.
There is also a school of thought that the audiobook will save traditional publishing. Some of the statistics quoted at me looked a bit dodgy. (The “vast majority” of audiobook readers discovered to be under 45, turned out to be 54%). I dug around until my eyeballs bubbled but had to give up on the numbers. I found some interesting insights from industry participants, though.
What is clear, is that audiobooks are growing and, albeit from a low base, faster than other sectors of the industry. They may also be growing the market for books – research commissioned by the Audiobook Publishers Association last year claims that audiobook-readers listen to an average of 15 books a year. So audiobooks are definitely a Good Thing.
The Audiobook Reader is King
In fact, of course, I need not have worried. ( Well, Doh! I hear you say.)
For those who can’t connect title and content (and who should blame you: titles were NOT the Master’s strong point), it is the one where we are introduced to Madeline Bassett. And learn that, inexplicable as it may seem, she thinks the stars are God’s daisy chain. Even more inexplicably, Gussie Fink-Nottle, the well-known newt-fancier, believes he is in love with the woman.
I think I’m on my fourth copy, the first two having fallen to pieces. The penultimate copy I left with an interpreter/ translator in Vilnius, when she couldn’t stop laughing.
For he is THE Simon Jones. That’s right. Arthur Dent from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Star of TV (Brideshead, Blackadder), film, Broadway and the West End. Soon to be seen in the Big Screen Downton Abbey.
And he is wonderful. His Bertie is all that I could want and more. For this Bertie is not just a silly ass, as so often he is portrayed. There IS at least one silly ass among those present – and Mr Jones’s Fink-Nottle is a thing of wonder – but he is not Bertram Wooster.
Though sometimes he gets carried away with the exuberance of his own invention, Bertie is always there to support a friend in love or an aunt in need. He endures their peevish reproaches with dignity.
He is a man of action and decision. When he is wrong, he owns up, like a gent. And he never bears a grudge.
Astonishingly for a man who is not a lifelong Wodehousian, Mr Jones also has just the right tone of County Hunting Horn in Aunt Dahlia, of Brooklyn Franglais in Anatole, of weird specky-four-eyes in Gussie, and the rest of the dramatic personae are equally well-served. And his account of The Market Snodsbury Prize Giving is just about perfect. I wept with laughter.
Review of Audiobook Right Ho, Jeeves, read by Simon Jones
Together they make an explosion of pure delight.
The bonus short story, My Man, Jeeves is an amusing early effort, and new to me. And the conversation between Mr Jones and producer Alison Larkin at the end is a hoot – and really enlightening, about Wodehouse, reading, Douglas Adams, friendship and gossip.