Postcards

A friend posted on Facebook just the other day, asking what our favourite ever TV shows were. That’s almost as hard as naming my favourite album, except that I have known for many years that Steely Dan’s Aja is the best album ever. That, in my opinion, is a simple fact. Clive James died today. And I was reminded that he made some of the best television shows of my life.

I first saw him in a satirical show on BBC Two called Up Sunday. I immediately fell in love with his voice, his accent and those wonderful words. As the years went by, I followed his television career avidly. I loved his Clive James on TV shows but I utterly adored his Postcards series, where he went to a city, usually a capital city, and explored as only James could. Stellar powers of observation, combined with a fierce wit and always a high level of self-deprecation. He was the best.

Today, I still watch his Postcards on You Tube and I laugh like I did when I watched the first time. Once I fell in love with Clive James, the TV presenter and host, I discovered Clive James the writer. I had, foolishly, not bought the Observer when he was the TV critic, but I remedied that by purchasing Clive James on Television, a compendium of three books, Visions Before Midnight, The Crystal Bucket and Glued to the Box. There, I recognised genius. If I could write like anyone, I would want to write like Clive James.

The beauty of his writing is that when you read it, you can hear him saying the words. No ghosts in the room, Clive James as it was written. And when I moved on to his memoirs, starting with Unreliable Memoirs, I was smitten.

Clive James died on Sunday 24 November and his funeral took place today, 27th November. Only the people who mattered, his family and close friends, I would imagine, got to hear about it; to the rest of us, who mourn from a distance, it barely mattered when we got to hear.

Great is a much overused word, but Clive James was a great. A great writer, a great TV presenter, a great critic and above all a great man.

In a world where mediocrity is king, James offered nothing but his talent and skills. I am so sad he has died, but I am grateful for his legacy of beautiful writing and, yes, clips on You Tube.