Ben Elton’s book about the Big Brother franchise is as you’d expect choc full of his witty observations, and coupled with an outrageous plot, makes for an easy and entertaining read.

This is not high art. However his observations about reality TV and the generation that so willingly embraces it, are, IMHO, on-the-money.

That’s not to say that I completely agree with his hero, a curmudgeonly 55+ inspector who is in charge of the investigation when one of the housemates is murdered. Coleridge speaks for the baby boomers who cannot quite get into their heads why anyone would want to put themselves on display and at the mercy of a television company. He probably wouldn’t get blogs either, certainly not myspace or facebook.

Agatha Christie would have been proud of Ben for all the red herrings and the theatrical finish.
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I have a soft spot for Ben Elton. I love his TV work (Blackadder, The Thin Blue Line), his musicals (including We Will Rock You) and his other books (Gridlock, Popcorn etc). As he married a Jam Tart and spends quite a lot of his time in Western Australia – he counts (almost) as one of our own.

This book – probably isn’t his best – but is entertaining and a fun read none-the-less.

And now to Uncle Tom’s Cabin – which I’m finding depressing and hard-going at the moment – granted not as depressing or hard-going as the people whose lives it depicts in such graphic detail…