Holm - Fawlty Towers: a worshippers companion

FAWLTY TOWERS

A WORSHIPPERS COMPANION

Leo Publishing

Heleneborgsgatan 44

117 32 Stockholm

Sweden

Telephone/fax: +46 86 69 46 16

E-mail: leopublish@comhem.se

www.leo.infosite.tc

ISBN 91-973661-8-8

Illustrations by the author

Copyright: Lars Holger Holm, 2004

Cover and graphic design: John Eyre

Printed by Preses Nams Corporation

Jana seta printing, Riga 2004

All rights reserved. This publication may not be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a

retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Thank you Clive, Gilles and Alma for support and inspiration!

I t was toward the end of 2002 that the author of this book began to close in on me in a pincer-like movement. Persistently he had been bombing my agency with ominous epistles by that time well aware that I do not wish to receive any material related to either Monty Pythons Flying Circus or Fawlty Towers and eventually managed to coerce my manager into such submission that he felt compelled to forward the manuscript. My immediate reaction to it, after having ignored its existence for weeks, was one of genuine indifference. As if that were not enough, I soon also had my long time friend and partner, Bill Morton, on the line, saying he had been contacted by a man who wanted to make sure that I had in fact received his opus with its accompanying letter. I sullenly replied this was the case, but also that I had no idea when, if ever, I would get a chance to read it and to be sure, I didnt have the slightest intention of doing so. I then buried my head in the sand, hoping the menace would disappear by itself. It did not. Some weeks later the author had Bill forwarding me a fax with the following wording:

I am well aware that you are a busy man and that written material of various quality and interest relentlessly keeps adding to the piles in your study. However, beware that Sybil has been dead for quite some time now, so the entire manuscript wrapping her remains is likely to surface quite soon, giving you a last chance to rid yourself of her dead weight and the consequences of your terrible deed ... Let me add on a personal note that Fawlty Towers A Worshippers Companion involves a very interesting deal for you. Several editors have shown interest in publishing the script, especially after I told them that you would happily contribute with a merry preface to it. I can promise you a handsome percentage of the sales figures if you were to accept this invitation. After all, it is a potential bestseller. Invested with the aura of your fame, your wit and my analytical as well as literary prowess, Dragonfly simply must make it this time! Please, take a look at it. You won't regret it. Then, tell me that you will be more than happy to put your signature under an illustrious preface to this incomparable opus. So take the script now to the comfi-chair, open page one and let enjoyment be yours!

Realising that the aim of his manouevre was to convince me of writing a preface to a book on a subject that has long since ceased to hold any fascination for me, I felt obliged to tell him the truth: I apologise that what I am going to say will disappoint you. But I have neither the time nor the motivation to read your book. I have been talking for twenty-five years about Fawlty Towers now, and I would not be at all disappointed if it went away and I could forget about it forever. I am sorry that I cant be more helpful, but I have four projects of my own at present, all of which take up practically every moment that I have. Besides, there are many things that I want to read before I die, which are of higher importance to me than a book, no matter how good, about something I did twenty-five years ago. In essence this was the message I finally faxed to the writer, adding that I was of course delighted that people (such as the author himself) continue to enjoy it, but also that my interest in it beyond that was long gone. I concluded by committing to the uncommittal. Forgive my being so direct, but Id rather be quite honest with you. I wish you every success in your endeavours to get a deal.

Still, the peremptory nature of his nonetheless funny, cheerful and, as it eventually turned out, strangely premonitory letter kept haunting me. Then one night I actually dreamt that Sybil (not Prunella Scales!) was dead. But that wasnt all. I had murdered her and I was trying to make money off her in an insurance scam. As I woke up bathing in sweat, scratching my head I turned around to my terrified wife with the words: Sybil, Sybil what a terrible dream! Coming to my senses again, it began to dawn on me that whatever crimes we have committed in the past, there is no way we will ever escape them, and the surest way to become the unwilling prey of that same past, is to deny it its rightful place in our present lives. For me, Fawlty Towers belongs to a painful, confused, not to say disturbed, period of my life. It involved such an effort that I almost ended up in a mental asylum, and I dare say that if it hadnt been for the vast quantities of Prozac I was prescribed during my convalescence, I dont think I would ever had got over and beyond it. Today, I feel happy and relieved that the problems dealt with in the series are no longer of my concern, but when I finally, in a sense of obligation toward myself, actually started to read Mr. Holms manuscript, I fortunately realised that the subject of his writing was no longer of my doing; it was a creation which, like Frankensteins monster, had taken an appearance of its own in order to continue its work of destruction in the world.

Lars Holger Holms book on Fawlty Towers is in my opinion pretty close to a nightmare come true. It pleases me to be able to add, though, that it is also, simultaneously, an incredibly well written and witty book, which, in its delightful blend of farce and profundity, will above all please anyone sufficiently neurotic and tormented to see a role model in that most twisted of human characters named Basil Fawlty. I shall consequently not hesitate to recommend the book to anyone interested in making a thwarted thing even more thwarted. I will likewise and in order to forestall all unwanted attention seize the opportunity to assure the reader that the facts stated in his book are all correct. There are, of course, a few things that the writer doesnt and cant know anything about, but I think that is only proper. Then, so far as it remains to be seen if the handsome percentage offered to the writer of this preface will in any significant way materialise. If it does, I might even consider releasing on DVD the ruthlessly revealed thirteenth episode, of which I unfortunately still have the original copy. This much I promise. But dont call me, or Bill, and dont send any letters or e-mails. It will only make Sybil suspicious in her grave and my present wife jealous. You see, in spite of my efforts to the contrary, she has never been quite able to convince herself that I actually managed to leave 16, Elmwood Avenue behind for good. Lars Holger Holm, obviously, is of the same opinion. Thus, I have all good reason to fear the spectre of sibylline revenge.

J.C.

This guide book addresses itself to those ardent admirers of Fawlty Towers who have long since left the innocent stage behind when Manuel seemed merely funny, Polly only benevolent, Sybil just acrimonious and Basil plain crazy. It proposes to probe deep, deeper and still deeper into the texture of this work; to reveal intricate codes, hidden staircases and secret chambers; to interpret runes and unravel psychological mysteries. It is a spiritual adventure into the black hole in the centre of a speculative universe in constant expansion; a Gnostic, hermetic, alchemical experiment of rare complexity and eerie fascination. Last but not least, the book seeks to finally put an end to the ludicrous assumptions that there were only twelve episodes in all, that the only Jesus that ever lived died on the cross, and that Hitler committed suicide in the bunker.