Y’all know how I feel about David Mitchell, don’t you? I love him. I luff him. I loave him. I was so keen to read this book that I almost bought the hardback in Smiths (I was put off by the fact that almost all the other hardbacks were 50% off and yet this one was full price), came home and bought the Kindle version only to be advised that I’d already pre-ordered it (on Kindle) and it had already been delivered. Thank goodness Amazon’s more on the ball than I am.
Once I started reading it I basically didn’t stop for the rest of the day. Harry and Joe nagged me for the iPad and I said, “I am reading a book!” in the manner of Waynetta Slob ‘avin a fag. In fact, I only put it down in order to follow Mitchell’s route – the book is structured around a walk from Mitchell’s Kilburn flat around London to TV Centre – on Google Maps (which my David thought was a bit stalkerish, but what does he know, eh?).
I don’t know why I found it so hard to stop reading – there’s very little (actually, possibly no) drama or shocking revelations – but his voice comes through so clearly and it’s just as wry, interesting and entertaining as you’d expect if you’ve ever seen him on a panel show (which you must have done, surely). Plus it made me laugh out loud quite a few times. But, for me, the very best thing about this book is the penultimate chapter about his relationship with – and love for – Victoria Coren. Mitchell’s always been cagey about his private life, so I didn’t expect the honesty and openness of this chapter. It’s beautifully written, incredibly romantic and it made me happy.