Iain Hollingshead - What Will They Think Of Next...?: Unpublished Letters to the Daily Telegraph

Unpublished Letters to

The Daily Telegraph

EDITED BY
IAIN HOLLINGSHEAD

First published in 2014

by Aurum Press Ltd, 7477 White Lion Street, London N1 9PF

www.aurumpress.co.uk

This eBook edition first published in 2014

Copyright 2014 Telegraph Media Group Limited

Introduction copyright 2014 Iain Hollingshead

The moral right of Iain Hollingshead to be identified as the Editor of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

eBook conversion by Quarto Publishing Group USA

Digital edition: 978-1-78131-321-3

SIR Forget the front page and all the pages in between, I always turn straight to the letters, where I know I will find enlightenment, amusement and teeth-grinding irritation.

Pity it is so short.

John Pearson
Hove, East Sussex

SIR Yesterday my hernia was repaired painlessly under general anaesthetic. This morning I started on your publication Imagine My Surprise I read just seven letters before the scintillating wit caused me to laugh so hard I imagined my stitches might burst. There was no alternative but to put down your hilarious compendium.

Now much looking forward, when stronger, to this and the other publications.

Crombie Glennie
Hawksworth, Nottinghamshire

SIR The letters books are a great source of amusement, but I had to remove them from my downstairs loo as guests were of the same opinion. I wondered why they remained in situ for so long, and I have now had to banish the books to the upstairs loo.

Margaret Wilson
Hungerford, Berkshire

SIR Ukraine is in turmoil, a plane inexplicably vanishes, many farms remain flooded, an asteroid comes close to earth, and you publish a letter about spilling grains from a sugar packet. Get a grip!

Barry McCartney
Sudbury, Suffolk

Is there a conspiracy on Fleet Street to keep women off the Letters pages? Im writing this just after discussing the topic on the Today programme with the charming John Humphrys (you might notice the lack of rude letters about him this year). It transpired that someone with far too much time on their hands had counted all the letters to the Financial Times over a three-week period and just three were written by women. Frankly, the more surprising revelation for me was that the pink paper had a Letters page. After all, wheres the fun in debating the FTSE compared to swapping tips on how best to swing bowl an unwanted snail round a tree and into a neighbours garden?

There is, of course, no conspiracy. The letters editors at The Daily Telegraph are gender blind, colour blind and even county blind, despite occasional accusations that we only print letters from Dorset. One of my favourite ever letters could only have been written by a woman: Fifty shades of grey succinctly describes my lingerie collection. It is true that men write some 75 per cent of our letters, a handful of them writing two or three times a day. Men are, perhaps, more prone to being gloriously and eccentrically alone in thinking the way they do. And they tend to write the more outlandish missives, such as the retired lieutenant colonel in these pages who likes to go naked, save for his regimental tie, or the chap who declined sexual favours from his wife so that he could win at Scrabble and then sat down to write a letter to a newspaper to tell everyone about it.

However, the criteria for publication are the same whether youre Lieutenant Commander Joe Bloggs (retd) from Blandford Forum, Dorset or Josephine Bloggs from Dobcross, West Yorkshire. Men appear to enjoy writing about the dishwasher just as much as women enjoy writing about the World Cup. And thankfully for the rest of us, both sexes seem equally prepared to share their spouses failings with the world at large. Have there ever been better glimpses into a marriage than the letters here which start: I often chastise my wife for mistakenly using the word bought instead of brought ; or I simply do not understand why my husband was not chosen for one of the teams competing in the World Cup ?

In the early hours of the morning I sometimes worry whether the papers wonderful legion of loyal letter writers, whether male, female or of indeterminate initialled gender, will be able to keep it up year after year. I am always put to shame. This year, the sixth in a row, is, I believe, a particularly bumper crop. There is no subject too weighty not to be punctured with their ready wit, no topic too trivial not to be treated with the ironic seriousness it deserves. How can we halt Russian aggression in Ukraine? Frustrate the President with a subscription to TalkTalk. How can Franois Hollande preserve his anonymity during his romantic trips around Paris? Borrow a Boris bike from the London Mayor. Where do all the beautiful women go when the sunshine vanishes? No one seems to know. This was the year of Putin and Paxman, Sharon and Suarez, Harris and Hollande and, thankfully, for the first time since these books began, not a single letter about Gordon Brown.

I am grateful, as ever, to Christopher Howse, the Letters Editor, for his unfailing support; Matt Pritchett, for another wonderful cover cartoon; Cerys Hughes, publishing manager at the Telegraph; and everyone at Aurum. I must make special mention of Sally Peck on the letters desk who has again taken on the enormous task of sifting through tens of thousands of offerings. The book would not have been possible without her expert eye.

My largest debt of gratitude is, of course, to all the letter writers for their wonderful company with perhaps a special mention for M, the correspondent who believes himself in charge of MI6, but actually writes from an internet cafe in Bristol. After a break from duty last year, he returns to form to share his thoughts on the Syrian crisis.

This year finds his competition on similarly fine form. Whether explaining UKIPs rise through the horrors of Eurovision, wondering how to insure the Lamborghini on which they might blow their pension pot or sharing their naughty mnemonics to remember the cranial nerves of a dogfish, one thing is certain: no one has any idea what they will think of next.

I cant wait to find out.

Iain Hollingshead

London SW11

August 2014

SIR For days now you have forecast dark clouds and lightning over Gloucestershire while the weather has been generally sunny and warm. Are you actually forecasting an unplanned visit by my mother-in-law? Please clarify.

Martyn Dymott
Gloucester