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January 14, 2008

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Henry Barth

Who will rid us of this tedious tosh?
AA Gill www.timesonline.co.uk

Is there no end to the classic serial? Will nobody rid the box of the wringing snobbery of all this literary kitsch? I say one nice thing about Cranford and they’re all over the living room like hawks in bonnets.

“Oh, Mama, may we please, please go? I could wear the Chinese taffeta.”

“Hester, put the peonies in a vase.

We’ll dine on the mutton.”

“Ma’am, by my troth, there is nothing that so snugly fits my prospect as your Fanny.”

These people, they’re like cultural lice. Last week’s offering was Sense and Sensibility (Tuesday, BBC1), written by one of those shrew women who have heritage-trail gingerbread and chintz named after them. It’s about – well, you know what it’s about. It’s what they’re all always about: selling teenage virginity for cash and crenellations. The most astute deconstruction of every plot nuance and character trait in the Austen or Brontë novel can be found in Noel Edmonds’s Deal or No Deal?.

(I THINK WE CATCH MR. GILL'S DRIFT. READERS MAY NOW RETURN TO SHOOTING , FORNICATION, OR THEIR DEVOTIONS - The Editor)

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